He knew he probably shouldn't. It would be just like before. Bender would hang out with his gang as usual, intimidating freshmen, while Brian dove into some goofy science project with other nerds, and Andy and Claire would be surrounded by their exclusive circle – being doted on, which Bender couldn't help but sneer at. But what about Allison?
"I don't have any friends," Allison's words echoed in Bender's head as he swallowed hard and made his way to the mall on that cold Sunday evening.
What the Breakfast Club didn't know was that John Bender and Allison Reynolds already knew each other. A month ago, during a clearance sale at the store, Allison found herself overwhelmed by demanding customers and sought solace in the back alley. There, she almost collided with him. John, venting his frustrations by kicking at metal trash cans until his foot hurt, was hiding his tears of frustration, the only son of a father who didn't care enough to buy him a warmer coat.
"Sometimes it gets so I can't breathe," Allison confessed, her voice scratchy as if she'd been coughing. John turned to look at her, his eyes wide and full of unspoken pain.
Their interaction was tense, with John growling and Allison flinching at his anger. Yet beneath the surface, something shifted. They found themselves in detention together the next Saturday, and soon, they were surrounded by classmates who ignored them otherwise. They pretended to have "emotional breakthroughs" just to make out with others from different social circles. It was a perfect scam, with Bender expected to get in trouble and Allison was seen as just showing up.
"So, was that your last detention, Ally-cat?" Bender leaned in, his dark stare piercing. He was already irritated. The thing about someone who blended into the background was that you noticed when they were gone.
Alison rolled her eyes, "This time was different..." she began, moving around the counter, "for both of us, you can't deny it."
There was a beat of silence...
"Nothing is different, another Saturday, another chick," Bender scoffed, walking away towards the open space, "and don't come running back to detention when you get snubbed by those dorks tomorrow."
But Allison wasn't giving up, "If you can't feel it in your heart, there's no hope for you."
Bender grumbled, wishing for a happy ending as he browsed through cassettes. Yet, he couldn't deny Allison's resilience, her belief that true friendship was possible, even in their unlikely circumstances.
Meanwhile, Angela caught his attention. The one and only Angela Williams. She and Claire were best friends and top-notch popular girls. Bender found himself mesmerized by Angela's presence, her laughter like music to his ears. He couldn't tear his gaze away as she walked by, leaving him feeling oddly unsettled.
"Hi John," Angela greeted him casually, but her words stirred something inside him, something he couldn't quite explain.
Bender nodded slightly, shoving his hands in his pockets, trying to appear nonchalant. But Angela's scent, her laughter, and her stunning appearance lingered in his mind as he watched her walk away.
Meanwhile, Allison and Claire's reunion was a joyous one. Allison, eager to help, guided Claire to the music section, while Angela and Bender shared a flirtatious exchange nearby. And amidst the chaos of the mall, friendships were forming, and a sense of hope lingered in the air.
Brian tossed his apron onto the counter, fed up with his shift. He made up an excuse to his father about working late to cover for Saturday's detention, a lie he never thought he'd tell his parents. But for Claire, it was worth it. He had plans, and he wasn't going to let being grounded stop him. With his driver's license almost a year old, the freedom of driving was within reach, especially with the money he'd saved up for his uncle's sweet red Chevrolet Cavalier.
His mind drifted back to the moment Claire and Angela surprised him at his counter before heading to the music store. Brian insisted they order whatever they wanted from the Orange Julius on him.
"Meet us at Sam Goody after your shift," Claire whispered, planting a kiss on Brian's cheek.
Her kiss left him breathless, a rush of emotion coursing through him. It was a moment of pure passion, surpassing the verses of even the greatest poets. As he smiled back at Claire, his braces gleamed. Both girls seemed impressed by his sweetness and generosity, boosting Brian's confidence as he pursued the beautiful prom queen.
"I'll be there," Brian replied, his electric blue eyes sparkling. With his wild, curly blond hair and newfound confidence, he felt like a different person in Claire's presence.
Andy made his way to the food court, thoughts swirling about the chance encounter on his way to the hardware store that Sunday morning. Was it a miracle or fate? It was hard to ignore her presence, drifting through the hallways and cafeteria like a dark, edgy cloud. A passing girl shot him a strange look, hurrying off before he could speak. Yet, Andy found himself unable to look away, drawn to her like a dark moon in his orbit. Despite her all-black attire, meant to fade into the background, she stood out in stark relief from the sea of pastels and brights.
Spotted alone at the bus stop, Andy made an impulsive U-turn, heedless of traffic.
"Get in," he urged, his warm expression belying his monotone voice. His smile, a beacon of sunshine amidst her gloomy day, lit up as he noticed her hair styled just the way he liked it, the black ribbon a subtle enhancement.
"You don't know where I'm going," Alison's shock was palpable, emotions shifting within her.
"Doesn't matter, I'll take you anywhere you want."
Nodding, she settled into the seat, dropping her oversized satchel on the floor mat.
"I kinda need to know where I'm taking you," Andy broke the silence after a few blocks.
"I work at Sam Goody's, at Shermer Mall," Alison's deep, dark eyes met his gaze.
Her shy demeanor concealed a smile waiting to be coaxed out, hinting at a happiness that exceeded her expectations.
He nodded, a warm glow spreading within him, her happiness proving infectious in all the right ways.
"You were going in another direction. Where were you headed?" Her voice cut through the revving engine of his truck.
"I'm on my way to the hardware store for my dad, then I have a bunch of other crap to do today as punishment," Andy's voice was hoarse as if he'd been yelling.
Pulling over at the front of the mall's main entrance, he ventured, "Can I see you later?" Wondering how he'd manage between practices and being grounded, Andy couldn't shake the feeling that their meeting was providence, the first time he'd felt he could be someone more.
"I work until seven," Alison observed, noting the pleased look in his eyes. Leaning in, she gasped against his mouth, head tilting in a silent invitation.
"Mm." He murmured savoring the sweetness of her lips. She tasted like cherry cola. And it wasn't enough, he wanted to take more from her. He wanted her gasping, breathing only him.
"Mmm." She was breathless, so she pulled away. She silently scooped up her bag and darted into the mall.
Alison's joy overflowed as Andrew strolled into the store just before closing. He greeted Allison first, then everyone else, before handing her an Orange Julius. Her squeal of delight echoed through the store at the unexpected gift. Rushing to the counter, she retrieved her bag, pulling out a pack of orange Pop-Rocks to add to her drink.
"Want some?" Ally offered.
Andy accepted the odd, yet sincere offering. He opened the lid of his container, allowing her to dump a generous amount of candy into his drink. Taking a sip, he was surprised to find he liked it.
When Brian entered Sam Goody for the first time, he was momentarily stunned. "That explains the two drinks," he muttered, realizing Allison worked at the place Claire had suggested they meet.
And there, amidst the excitement, was John Bender!
Nerves buzzing, Brian gave the guys a nod of acknowledgment, elated when they reciprocated. As he approached Claire, he swallowed the lump in his throat, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. It was now or never, he thought, determined to follow through on what he promised himself the next time he saw her.
"I can be an Alpha too," Brian declared, wrapping his arm around Claire's waist, pulling her close, and kissing her as if they'd been together for a lifetime.
"Brian," Claire whispered breathlessly, all smiles and blushing, while Brian was ecstatic.
The song "Rock This Town" by the Stray Cats started to play, and Angela was the first to start dancing, setting off a chain reaction as everyone danced like nobody was watching.
Meanwhile, before Allison closed out the register for the night, Andy bought two copies of the new Bruce Springsteen, one for himself and the other for Ally. She thanked him, recognizing that music holds meaning and profoundly connects people.
In addition to her purchases, Claire bought records from Janet Jackson, Siouxie Sioux, Sex Pistols, and Joy Division. Brian found humor in her eclectic taste and ended up buying Aerosmith after paying for Claire's items.
"John, do you want me to add your purchase and Angela's to your account?" Allison teased, placing Billy Idol and Whitney Houston's cassettes in the same bag with a mischievous smirk.
It's by chance that Andy was parked next to Claire. The girls gathered by her vehicle while the boys hung closely by the truck, all feeling a new sense of bliss, making it hard for them to part for the night.
"It's been fun," Bender said, handing Angela the bag with her cassettes and shoving his Billy Idol tape in his pocket while licking his lips suggestively.
"Your nastiness doesn't scare me, John," she retorted, hugging him and kissing his cheek before jumping into the back seat of Claire's Benz for warmth, while John closed the door for her.
"You should be scared," Bender replied, a smile hidden behind a cigarette in his mouth as he walked off into the night, eager to rock out to his favorite artist on his treasured Sony WM-D6C.
"Would you like to hang out with us at our Friday night sleepover?" Claire asked Allison.
"It's totally fun, we eat tons of popcorn, and junk, and watch scary movies. I just bought Friday the 13th!" Angela chimed in. While Allison liked horror, she wasn't a fan of slasher movies due to their violence and exploitation of women. Still, who doesn't enjoy junk food and a good scare?
"I'll bring the cola and pixie sticks," Allison replied, giving her skirt a slight tug, feeling apprehensive about whether the other girls would be kind to her.
As the group parted ways, they all felt more certain that Monday would go well—or perhaps tonight was simply the calm before the storm.
"That's your house—rad!" Brian exclaimed as Claire pulled up to a mansion that would make Robin Leach croon. The architectural masterpiece blended classic and contemporary design seamlessly, eliciting giggles from Claire at Brian's honest and genuine reaction.
"My house is a shack compared to Claire's," Angela quipped, skipping comically up the long cobblestone driveway, "A shack, I tell ya!"
Brian's house wasn't far from the school, making it easy to find. Claire admired his well-lit, Cape Cod-style house with a central chimney and a pitched, side-gabled roof, giving it an elegant yet cozy charm. The two of them talked and made out for a while until Brian's little sister noticed Claire's Benz in the driveway, and Brian's mother came out to investigate.
"Brian Ralph Johnson!" she exclaimed, leaving Brian beet-faced and startled. His mother gave him a look of disappointment before coldly reentering the house. Claire waved at Mrs. Johnson, unfazed—she knew how to win suburban housewives over with gifts.
Pulling into Allison's driveway, Andrew took note of the old Victorian two-story house with a wraparound porch, board-and-batten siding, and Corinthian columns. The streetlights illuminated the house, revealing its dark interior.
"Is anyone home?" Andy asked, concerned. He warily smiled at her, wondering if she always returned to an empty, dark house.
"They get home late most nights," she replied, before yanking him by his collar, bringing him close, and kissing him fervently.
Angela wondered, why in the hell do they call it The Breakfast Club?
But above all, she wondered if Claire would remain true to herself and stand up to their critical friends. Angela preferred the Breakfast Club to the snobby yuppies Claire associated with. She didn't speak up because, although they were snobbish and spoiled, they weren't prejudiced like some of the kids at Shermer. Still, she disliked how they looked down on and mistreated people who weren't like them. She hoped Claire would break away from them, providing her with an out and making it much easier for her to get involved with John.
Bender, the sex offender…
She smiled and her entire body became warm, hot. That devilish smirk, he gives her every time her eyes meet his. John has those big dark and stormy eyes that seem to bore down into her soul. And the way he says and does what he wants regardless of what others think, this is his polarizing mindset that engages guys and gals enough to draw them in. Bender is blessed with that trait knowing what he is and what he is not.
Oh, Lord have mercy, I'm having a she-bop moment, thinking of the cute, smokey-smelling John Bender.
The house was warm tonight, sparing John the need to sleep in his clothes for warmth in his drafty room. He undressed and lay on his lumpy old twin mattress, placing his only Christmas gift—a Walkman his cousin had brought him—on his chest. Popping in his new cassette, his first gift from a friend that wasn't smokes or booze, he was surprised to feel a sensation long lost to him... serenity.
The sensual, yet rocking beat of the song 'White Wedding' started to play, all the horny, teen could think about was the way Angela's ass looked when she danced. He promised next time, he would show some restraint. When the opportunity arose, he vowed to tease the dark-skinned beauty, igniting her desire for him as much as his for her. Their body chemistry was undeniable, mere thoughts sparking intense physical reactions, leaving him incapacitated and aroused.
'Hey little sister, what have you done? Hey little sister, who's the only one?'
There are no thoughts, no focus, only desire and the pain of wanting. John's hands became idle and lowered to his chest, belly and finally settling on his throbbing cock which he firmly grasped. With the image of Angela beautifully engraved in his mind, along with the recollection of the feel of her taut body. It took only a few strokes and he was there.
I'm fucked…Bender thought while drifting into a deep sleep.
Claire couldn't sleep. It wasn't that she was a stranger to losing sleep. Sometimes she did it intentionally, watching a movie on cable late into the night at the lowest volume. Sometimes the thought of a test the next day churned her stomach just badly enough not to allow sleep. Sometimes, the memory of a fight with her girlfriends kept her awake, even though she knew it would be quickly forgotten.
Tonight, something was different, and that something was Brian Johnson. She couldn't believe that in one day – just a few hours – she had gone from not even considering giving him the time of day to spending a Sunday with him, her best friend, and the Breakfast Club. Try as she might, she couldn't figure out what had come over her. She thought about everything from the hideous green shirt he'd worn, to the braces in his mouth, to the infuriating way he had been pretty right about everyone there.
By the time she finally fell asleep, still curled up in a tight ball facing the pink wall of her bedroom, she had yet to find any answers.
Brian was terrified, his parents wanted to know everything when they saw a pretty girl in a Mercedes dropping him off and not Mr. Potts, the manager of the Orange Julius. He was determined. otherwise, how can he follow his passions, how can he make the kinds of choices that develop his brain as we wish to?
"Young man, that was not Harold and was her tongue in your mouth!"
"Do you care who she is or why we kissed goodnight?" His reply shocked his parents into a moment of tense silence.
Brian had never talked back to his parents but would not let them come between him and Claire.
"This is not acceptable - go to your room!" They yell at him instead of trying to figure out why he's changed.
"I know you don't accept the decisions I make for myself," He stood tall and when he did, he noticed that he was almost as tall as his dad. They ordered him to his room denying him the chicken tetrazzini dinner.
"Goodnight to you too," he said sarcastically. In the quietness of his room, his mind slid into a realization.
It's alright to feel awkward; I'd rather embrace authenticity than anything else. The real me loves deeply, laughs often, and feels deeply for others' sorrows. I form emotional bonds easily and wear my heart on my sleeve like an open book... but hey, that's just who I am, wearing "awkward" like it's my trademark... that's what being a true Alpha is all about.
In the deafening silence of the empty house, she enters her room. She plays the Bruce Springsteen tape in her boom box and instantly feels the warmth that is missing in her home. She thinks of Andrew and the way he danced tonight and in detention the day before. That handsome blonde-haired athlete seems to be striving to be his better self, making it appear effortless. Allison wonders if she can sustain the facade for long, at least until the end of the school year. She recognizes that she is both shy and adventurous, each emotion holding its significance.
Will they accept me if I put the black shit on my eyes and cover most of my face with my hair? Or become invisible again…
She had hidden herself in that cocoon for so long that it became comfortable. Now that she's being seen, she's uncertain if she wants it. Despite owning a sleek new coat, boots, and other nice things from her wealthy grandmother, her old ratty coat and Converse felt like a comfort blanket. Allison is wise; she knows that only when you see yourself as you truly are can the lessons begin.
I'm the spark in the night because I use bravery to overcome shyness, yet that shyness remains because it's an important part of me.
When Andrew arrived home well after curfew, sporting a big red hickey on his neck, he faced the scolding of his life. Silently, he sat through his cold, overcooked steak dinner, enduring the verbal lashing.
"Your performance is going to be as worthless as the last at this rate. Get your act together or you can kiss the Loyola scholarship goodbye."
Despite his family's dysfunction, there's a semblance of function as the generations pass. Andrew remembered how hard his grandpa was on his dad back then, and still is to this day. He'd witnessed the verbal abuse at family gatherings and heard of the unrealistic goals set on his father's back by his mother. It seemed ironic that his father would now do the same. Poor Adam, he thought of his younger brother.
I'll be out of here soon, but he's got several more years of this. If he's like Dad, he'll endure it for life...not me...
He was certain his dad would disown him soon.
I have to stay loyal to The Breakfast Club, and most of all, to Allison, even if it means being a defector athlete and son. If only there was a way to do both.