I don't own The Breakfast Club

Enjoy!

Going home was the last thing that John Bender wanted to do. Even though school was not one of his favorite places to be, it was better than being in a dysfunctional household. Once the bell had rung and the rest of his classmates cheered about going out with their friends or heading home to their families, John mentally cursed. While his classmates had a decent place to go to, he may as well be homeless. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a matchbox. In his other pocket, he took out a packet of cigarettes and pulled one out. His father would probably be questioning about where his packet went, but John didn't care. He needed this for his nerves, let alone the lecture that he got from the vice principal that he got later in the afternoon about being late. He scoffed at the thought of that. Being on time when the bell rang was just another way of living up to society's standards. John moved at the beat of his own drum and he wasn't going to let anyone take that away from him. He inhaled the cigarette and allowed the smoke to blow out of his nostrils. The courtyard around the school was quiet for once and he liked it better that way.

The afternoon was slightly chilly but his trench coat was more than enough to take of that. He didn't know how long he had this trench coat but at least it was kind enough of one of his friends to lend it over to him when he had been shivering like a dog that time. Not even his own mother was decent enough to go and buy a coat for him with the money that she made. He found it hilarious that she worked at the local bar and then would come home to an alcoholic husband. John didn't know, nor did he care, the amount of money that she bought home. It would all be spent on alcohol anyway but that didn't stop John from taking a portion of it to get some food for himself. Speaking of, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of bills. It was just enough to get him a decent meal at the diner. Taking the last drag of his cigarette, John threw it on the ground and stepped on it with his foot. As he was about to make his way down the stairs, he stopped when he noticed a girl dressed in black waiting at the other side of the stairs.

She was a strange one and John couldn't remember if he had ever interacted with her, though he knew who she was. Allison Reynolds. From it seemed, it was as if she was waiting for someone which John found surprising. He had always seen this girl with her head down and avoiding anyone that passed by her. If only he could be as invisible as she was with these figures of authority. She seemed to have it all figured out, so what was her secret? He then turned his head when he saw the school doors open and out come the vice principal with a blond girl that was his classmate in history class. He looked over at Allison straightening up when she saw the blond.

"We'll discuss this later, Susan," Richard Vernon said to her, "now go on home. I don't want you dilly-dallying."

John scoffed when he heard Richard say something like that. Wow. Even when school was over, he could still control their lives. "Your six hours are up, Dick," John said, "why don't you head on home yourself?"

However, it seemed as if his words fell on deaf ears. Either Richard had not heard him, or he just pretended not to. It would have been a great debacle between them and one where John knew he would win in the end. He then turned his attention over to the two girls who had gone in a deep conversation with one another.

"What happened?" he heard Allison whisper over to the other.

"Wow," John spoke up and interrupted the two girls, "for one who keeps to herself this is the first time I've heard you talk."

Allison's eyes moved from Susan and over to Bender. Wow, who would have guessed that the rebel of the whole school would have the nerve to talk to someone like her? Just then, the blond turned around and looked at the rebel. She clung tightly on her bag as if she wanted to protect her artwork from him. One of her pieces had already been assaulted and she wasn't going to let anyone else close, especially someone who was twice her size. As for Allison, she didn't respond to John's remark. The only thing that she could think of was to make the confrontation awkward around them.

"What's the matter girls?" John asked, "cat got your tongues?"

"What's your problem?" Susan turned around and looked at him, "we weren't talking to you."

John's eyes looked at the blond up and down before finally situating on her face. The clothes that she wore and the paint on her hands was evident enough to him that she was one of those girls that would be in her own artistic world. A world that only she thought she could manipulate but when others reared their ugly heads in that world, then her whole world would be crumbling down. "And that's my problem because...?" John rose and eyebrow and looked at her. "It's a free country Picasso," he said as he jumped off the staircase railing. "I can say what I want to whom I want, just like how you draw whatever you want."

Susan turned her head and looked over at Allison, who only stared at the rebel before them. There was no sense of expression on her face towards this boy. In fact, from what Allison could tell was that half of the school feared him and the other half hated him. As for her, she was neutral to him. As long as she didn't interfere with him, she didn't care what he was. As for Susan, she was always hesitant around him but being with Allison, it made it a bit easier for her to find the courage to speak to this...criminal. Please don't continue to speak to me she mentally begged. The last thing she needed was to be in trouble again.

John could sense that he was making her uncomfortable and she was very bad at hiding it. He watched as her eyes looked elsewhere but to him as if that would stop him from doing what he wished, she clutched tightly onto her bag as if he was going to get up and steal it, and she kept a good distance away from them. Guess the real world was morbid to her, but then again wasn't that what artists thought of the world and released it in their drawings? John then motioned to her bag with his head, "what have you got in there? Another one of your drawings?"

Susan clung tightly on her bag as he approached her. "Please don't touch my work," she said as she swung to the side a little too quickly. At that moment, her sketchpad fell out of her bag and onto the floor.

Allison was quicker than John as she picked up the sketchpad. However, a drawing fluttered out of the book and fell onto the floor in front of John's eyes. The drawing consisted of, what it seemed to Bender, himself and a girl, that oddly looked like Jennifer, and he was given her a punch. He picked up the drawing and looked at it closely.

Susan shut her eyes and awaited for the moment for him to take a swing at her. If it had been Jennifer, she would probably be verbally chastised but with Bender, she knew she was going to be pulverized. Allison sensed Susan's discomfort and handed her the sketchpad with an apologetic smile. If anything was to happen, at least she could try and protect Susan, even though she didn't know how she would do that.

As for John, the more the looked at the drawing the more his lips curled into a smile. "Ha," a small laugh came out of his lips which caught Allison and Susan by surprise. He had a rather handsome smile, but it remained hidden with the turmoil that he faced from home. "You have no idea how much I wanted to do this to her." He folded the paper and placed it inside his pocket.

"Wait," Susan stepped forward, "I need that back."

"Why?" he asked as he shrugged his shoulders, "finders, keepers."

"You didn't find it if we were here," Susan said to him, "I'm not going to let you have that to blackmail me just to benefit your needs."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," John said, "who said about blackmail? It's a great drawing, Picasso. You let out your anger and I'm gonna let out mine, just without getting suspended."

Susan folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. "And how can I trust you with it?"

"You can't," John said as he made his way down the stairs, "you don't even know me."

Well that drawing was a loss. With him walking away from them, Susan couldn't chase after him. If she was to do that, how was she going to get the drawing back without having to wrestle it out of him? She turned over to Allison and let out a sigh. "Great," she said, "I get Saturday detention and now I have to fear for my life everyday coming to school."

Allison titled her head to the side. "You got Saturday detention? Why?"

Susan rolled her eyes. "Jennifer and her group. They decided to wreck my painting so I decided to give them a makeover. Guess they hated the style so much that they had to whine their way over to the principal. Though Mr. Vernon caught me before I made a break for it."

What a stuck up bastard Allison thought as she shook her head.

"I hate this place," Susan whispered and adjusted the strap of her bag.

You and me both Allison looked at Susan and nodded her head. "You'll be okay, right?" she asked.

"I guess," Susan said to her. "We'll see what tomorrow brings...and Saturday too."