Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prologue

She entered the closet, shutting the door quietly and leaning against it as she smiled slyly at him. She could be just as sneaky as him if she wanted, a rebel….a criminal. 

He looked back at her, the glimmer of surprise swiftly hidden behind that same cocky attitude as he asked with soft amusement, “You lost?” 

His eyes are intense and focused, the same look he’s been giving her all day. Her smile falters a little, fading as she bites her bottom lip and realizes she is finally alone with him. Allison had told her she’d only go out and face Andy if Claire went and faced John. Two warrior women facing their desires head on. And while she hated the fact John Bender had gotten to her, he had, deeply. Her heart was fluttering and excitement was swirling in her stomach. She had to play it cool and indifferent or he'd know.

She slowly walks over, keeping calm, staying relaxed, because showing any type of fear or nervousness would only reinforce his misconception of her. He saw the innocent virgin princess, and while she was those things, she had hoped after everything they had been through today, he might be willing or wanting to see more. 

She walked to a desk lodged in the corner, slowly turning before sliding onto it, her hands on either side of her thighs as she looked at him, her curiosity so hungry to learn more and experience more of him. He was her antithesis, a sharp contrast to her pristine exterior, a grungy and raw look at the cold reality of life. 

It was cliche, the princess falling for the criminal, but there was something in the way he looked at her. Her friends would say it was creepy, like a predator, Claire however, was reminded only of herself, he acted out the way Claire wished she could. She wasn’t scared of him because the way he looked at her was how she felt about him. Some people were just better at hiding it than others. 

To her surprise John slowly shifted as well, moving from his spot on the table he was resting on to the side, legs dangling like hers as he reached up a hand and grabbed one of the hanger stubs from the roll out coat rack that was next to them. 

After another moment of silence Claire decided to take a chance saying with a nervous laugh, “This is pretty outrageous isn't it?”

John looked at his hand then back at her as he asked, “Cause you're sitting in a closet with a freak?” 

“That too.” Claire teased as she studied his face, noticing how handsome he was not for the first time. His long hair is so compelling in its form that she has a hard time resisting the urge to run her fingers through it. 

“Does it bother you?” he asks, not meeting her eyes and Claire grows a little annoyed. 

“Obviously not.” she offers, realizing her hope of him seeing more than just her snobbiness was forlorn. After everything he was still asking her if being near him bothered her and while she knew she was stuck up John also knew she could be different too, just like the rest of them. She turned it around on him and asked, “What about you?”

“What?”

“Is there somebody else you'd rather be sitting with?” It was a purposeful question and one she desperately wanted the answer to. Could he ever see her as desirable, and if so, would he act upon it. It did border on pathetic, the way she was fishing for his acknowledgement. But for some reason, his opinion of her mattered more than anyone else’s had all day. 

“I'd rather not be sitting here at all?” and his hard eyes glanced at her, waiting to see her response to the obvious sexual innuendo. 

Claire stared at him, the image of him spreading her legs as he took a stance between her thighs and kissed at her neck flashed like lightning in her mind's eye. She felt moisture suddenly and her stomach did a flip. He could do that to her, she’d found that out quite early on. That’s one of the things that intrigued her about him, she’d never gotten hot from another guy's appearance let alone their words. He could do that to her, and she wanted to know why. 

But she blushed and looked away, “Now who's the tease.” 

John let out a half chuckle half scoff as he swished his tongue across his upper lip, “Fucking cherries.” he murmured softly and she gave a glance that was heated, mad at his quick dismissal. It was always a battle with him, getting John to drop his sarcasm and arrogant cocky tone was near impossible unless you really dug and pushed at him. The problem was, when you did get him to forgo the sarcasm, rage was usually what you found. 

She needed to do something that would really get his attention, enough to drop the sarcasm without causing his anger to flare. It was forward, but he had been forward with her all day, making it very clear without ever actually saying it, that he wanted to do it with her. She’d had it with his bullshit, she wanted to know what he thought of her, what he really thought and so, despite knowing better she took a little risk. 

Standing up, John glanced at her only to look away, his leg swinging quickly as he chewed on his inner cheek. She approached and his leg stopped, his eyes once again glancing at her before looking back to his hand which fondled the stub of the coat rack anxiously. 

She stepped into his space, something that would usually trigger his attack response, and leaned in, pressing her lips to his throat and giving a soft dry kiss to the tan patch of skin. She inhaled his scent quietly, cigarettes, weed and aftershave swirling in her nose before she pulled back, giving him space without actually leaving it. 

He looked at her in surprise, voice still soft and calm, but all pretense and sarcasm gone, “Why’d you do that?”

Claire smiled when she realized she had surprised him and said in a rather knowing tone, “Cause I knew you wouldn't.” 

There was a beat as his brow furrowed and he asked quickly, “How'd you know that?” 

Claire decided to sling his words back at him, still keeping a soft if not slightly superior smirk on her face as she eyed him, “You're even more stuck up than I am.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

His eyes relaxed, confusion mellowing as a hint of his playful and sardonic nature returned, “So why'd you kiss somebody so stuck up then?” 

Claire moved a little closer, holding his gaze as she said in a little daze of her own, “Do you get off on being stupid?” 

John stumbled for a moment, nothing really noticeable, but his voice caught in his throat at her comment and it took him a moment to regain his thoughts. 

“What would your parents do if you took me home with you?” 

“Call the police.” she deadpanned honestly, not needing or wanting to lie about the fact that John would not in any way be welcomed by Claire’s parents. 

“You know how you said your parents used you to get back at each other? Wouldn’t I be outstanding in that capacity?” and he leaned forward a little, the busy and anxious motions of his body towards other things in the room halting as he focused solely on her. 

“Were you really disgusted by what I did with my lipstick?” 

“Truth?” he asked and she nodded, waiting to see what he would say because for some reason, whether or not he was really disgusted mattered to her. Just like everything else he did. 

John nodded as he said “No, but I think Brian was.” and they both chuckled lightly, Claire raising her fingers to her lips to stifle her smile. 

His thoughts on Claire were summed up in that one moment. Nodding yes while saying no. It finally told her how he felt about her and Claire realized she felt the same about him. Everything inside her was screaming yes and telling her to go for it, but everything on the outside, her environment, the people and even herself screamed no. 

She didn’t know right now which one was more important to listen to but at this moment the honesty between them, no matter how hidden it was behind double talk, sarcasm and derision was easy and so she looked down and finally admitted, “I want to walk down the halls with you.” She wrapped her arms around herself in a protective manner as she studied the floor. 

That had been a leap right out of her comfort zone, swallowing her pride and admitting she liked him without saying it. They were both really good at that, maybe that was where the tension between them came from. It was so thick and charged she wasn’t sure how to handle it. As it turned out, despite how differently they were raised and how they lived, their difference in class and social structure, they were very similar and it was something she could feel in her gut. If they could get past whatever this was, there was enough desire to catch a house on fire.

She could feel him studying her, but she refused to meet his eyes, as while she knew he wanted her too, they both had reputations and who knew if either of them would really have the balls to act on what they wanted. 

“Slummin’ it?” he asked, his tone condescending again even as his voice remained low and he looked away from her. He was getting defensive again and Claire finally looked back at him, he was not meeting her eyes as she saw his jaw clench. 

“No...that’s the problem.” and she frowned softly and he looked back again, eyes wide and surprised before Claire slowly raised her hand, fingers coming to gently run down his cheek as she looked all over his face, John’s dark eyes jumping from her fingers back to her face as he licked his lips and swallowed. 

“Hm.” he managed, Claire noticing his body was suddenly wound tight, she wasn’t sure what she had done to upset him, but it seemed he was resisting some unseen urge. She dropped her hand from his face and once again found her shoes, “Forget I said anything.” she whispered. Her arms once again returned to hugging her as her face flared with red.

She felt stupid, because she knew he was interested but unlike her John wasn’t taking the chances she was. A reversal she wasn’t prepared for. He’d been pushing her all day to come out of her self-absorbed little world and now that she finally had he wasn’t giving her anything back. Tears welled up for some unknown reason, perhaps this was what rejection felt like. 

All the more reason to never put your true self out there. If this was what rejection truly felt like she’d rather live in her fake world of muted feelings and remain above it all. This left her feeling hollow and empty, something she usually felt on a daily basis, just not to this degree. 

“Give me a week.” he suddenly murmured and she waited, frozen in the intimate moment they were sharing. The anticipation stung like a dagger in her chest and for a moment she thought these feelings couldn't possibly be real. 

“A week for what?” she asked, looking away. John ran a knuckle down her cheek and she tried to ignore it. She’d cried in front of him before and he showed no empathy whatsoever. She hadn’t been looking for his empathy, but his inability back then showed she’d get none now. 

A finger suddenly traced faintly down her neck and despite her resolve to not look at him her head turned and their eyes met. No doubt he could see the sparkling glaze of tears that had yet to fall and she sniffed automatically, kicking herself mentally as she did. 

His fingers continued to move up and down on her neck for a moment, John’s gaze, always so intense and focused when studying her, was potent. 

His fingers then moved down, shifting to follow the neckline of her blouse until it moved right along her collarbone and a breath caught in her throat. He bent his finger, the knuckle now running up the front and under the bottom side of her chin, his eyes now following his own movements, another thick swallow on his part before his hand stopped where it was and he met her gaze. 

“A week to drive your parents crazy, a week to prove it’d be worth it.” and he continued to watch her, waiting for some inclination as to her response. 

She debated, not speaking for a moment as she tried to process his offer. A week to fuck with her parents and give Claire just a small taste of satisfaction and revenge. A week to prove to her that walking down the hall with him would be worth the risk. Their eyes hadn’t let go of each other and she asked, “And...after? What then?” 

John chewed the inside of cheek, hand tightening on the coat rack as he said in a rather annoyed but resolute manner, “I guess if you aren’t satisfied...you go left and I go right. After all, one week wouldn’t be enough to tarnish your perfect reputation. You’re clever, right?” and the sarcasm was back in full as his leg started swinging again, this time quickly, his body softly jerking with each movement, “So why not take a test drive. Money back guarantee.” John offered with a smirk. 

“Okay.” she suddenly said, much too eager, much too ready to concede to him, taking a step closer, her hands coming to his thighs as she leaned in but caught herself. 

Their eyes were focused, Claire biting her bottom lip to keep herself from saying anything more, because she wanted to say a lot, but she was already pushing her time in here with him and as she felt his breath wash across her face, his hand finally released its hold on the rack and came to brush the back of her neck and she leaned even closer, still refraining from kissing him, the wetness between her thighs increasing as they continued to stare. 

“Your old man pickin’ you up, Cherry?” he whispered. 

She nodded once, slow and steady, trying to control her body's reaction to their proximity, “I guess we'll start today then, you’re gonna have to kiss me though.” and his voice was so soft and quiet Claire hung off every subtle word, “I’ve never kissed a boy on the mouth.” she offered, finally answering his question from many hours before, no longer feeling the sting of humility that came with admitting her innocents. 

"Yeah? Me neither.” before he smiled at her and Claire looked at him a moment before she bit her bottom lip but laughed despite it, “You are such a freak.” but her tone was affectionate as she said it. Her hand coming to rest on his chest, running up to glide over his neck and she felt him shudder a little. 

Her attention was caught however when she saw his hand raise, slow and hesitant before fingertips grazed up her neck and traced her jaw. 

Wet eyes met his and she realized John actually looked nervous, maybe even unsure. His hand gently grabbed her jaw, a thumb on one side and fingers on the other, holding her face in a tender grip of uncertainty, a grip that Claire could easily remove if she wanted. 

He glanced between her lips and eyes, indecision evident as he leaned closer, "John." She whispered softly and his dark eyes met hers, the trepidation on whether she'd let him kiss her becoming clear.

Their lips met with a gentle touch, Claire giving a faint gasp at the feeling which was so foreign to her. John went slow, not rushing or pressuring for more but as he opened his mouth she mimicked him, and when their breaths met she realized she could taste him. Cigarettes, weed and soda, that hint of sweet so indicative of who he might be underneath and her heart calmed, her hands squeezing his thighs a little more as she found there was an ardent need to not stop for anything. 

The faintest moan escaped her and the fingers on her jaw eased, seeming to caress her skin faintly as John inhaled sharply through his nose. 

A knock came to the door then and Claire pulled away, not so much in fear but in curiosity and the door opened and Andy poked his head in through the crack, studying them for only a second before he smiled, “Hey, times up, detentions over. Vernon’s not around, what do you say we walk?” 

Claire looked to John who gave her a slow but mischievous smirk, "What say you, me lady?" and she smiled back looking at Andy and nodding, “Yeah, let’s walk.” and John jumped off the table, grabbing up his stuff as they all left, closing the door behind them. 

Brian left the essay on the desk for Mr. Vernon to find whenever he showed up and they all plodded down the hall towards the front door. Claire felt John’s hand on her lower back, only removing itself when he slowed to give an amused goodbye to Carl, “See you next Saturday.” 

As they all went outside the cold air blasted them in the face, reminding them that spring was still a few months away and each of them pulled their coats closer as Claire murmured to John as they descended, “The BMW.” nodding her head to her dad’s car.

“Who’d have guessed.” John said and Claire rolled her eyes, “You ready?” he asked as they hit the sidewalk and crossed into the main parkway in front of the school. 

“As I’ll ever be.” she murmured nervously. 

As they approached the car she turned and leaned against the hood and watched as John leaned down to look in the passenger side window, apparently wanting her father to get a good look at him. It was intentional and Claire turned to glance at her father, waving at him to allow her a moment. 

She turned back and John walked up to her, her red scarf folded over her arms between them, looking down a moment as her heart sped up and she finally glanced at him, meeting John’s eyes, his face rather serious, as if he was performing an important job. 

“Get rid of that.” he said, motioning to the red fabric and Claire did as she was told, setting it aside on the hood of her dad’s car. She was nervous and she kept looking down or away as John moved in close, the barrier no longer between them and his knees touched hers.  

Her anxiety and nerves spiked as he entered deep into her space and she spoke suddenly, “I don't suppose you want a ride do you?” 

The way he stared at her showed her it was a stupid question and that this moment was all business, “What do you think?” He waited a moment before he leaned in to kiss her and Claire looked down, once again avoiding it, her heart now in her throat, “No, I didn't think so…” 

She started to fidget and stopped only when John raised his hands and pulled up the collar of her coat, pulling her closer yet as he tilted his head to kiss her again. 

“Wait-” she whispered. 

John halted and looked at her, “You really going to back out now, I can practically smell your old man’s dread from here.” he teased, eyes still intense but watching her for signs of refusal. 

“I have an idea-” she murmured and her hands came up, gently taking his hands and pulling them away from her collar, she then reached up and removed a single diamond earring, popping the back on before grabbing his hand and placing it in the palm. A striking conflict of glimmering white against black leather, and she folded his fingers around it as she squeezed his hand in both of hers. 

She then dropped her hands from his and brought them before her, only to meet John’s gaze and finally as he leaned in she felt more calm and when their lips met her body clenched softly. It was short, nothing special, not like it had been in the closet, but it would do for their purposes. 

She broke it, the feelings inside of her sharp as she realized that while this had been planned she wasn’t going to make out in front of her father and so ended it, noticing how John leaned in as if to nestle his forehead against hers. Whether this was part of the ruse or him getting caught in the moment she didn’t know, but she turned away, grabbing her scarf and leaving his space to get into the car, ready to receive the backlash of her actions with such a dubious young man that she knew was coming. 

As her father drove away, nervously asking questions and making careful comments she glanced in the side view mirror, seeing John push the earring into his ear, his eyes watching their car drive slowly down the parkway towards the main street. She resisted the urge to wave because she knew he wouldn’t see it and leaned back in her seat. Her father was still trying to play the good guy and gently feel out who that was but her mind was caught up in how she wished she could have kissed him longer and let him nestle close. 

His scent still encompassing her and the promise of a week of his undivided attention looming before her. John was right, if she spent a week pretending to “slum it” and it turned out they weren’t really as compatible as she hoped she could easily tell enough lies and half truths to explain it away and retain her seat as the prom queen princess. 

The real goal was to give Claire some ammunition to get back at her parents, a week of hanging around John Bender and dealing with the questions and comments of her friends would be worth that. And besides, John seemed just as content with their agreement as she was. 

But something burned hot in her stomach, and as her father drove them home and she grew further and further away from John, an ache appeared and a longing she’d never felt before bloomed in her chest. 

She’d wanted things before in her life, and she usually got them, her dad was pretty consistent in his desire to deliver unto her whatever kept her happy. But wanting something simply because and longing for something was different and in that moment she understood why. 

She wanted to go to Paris...but...she longed for John to be close to her. And when she realized she’d choose being close to John over going to Paris she knew she was in trouble. 

Still, they’d decided on one week, so all she could do was wait and see if knowing John Bender truly was worth the headache that was sure to follow. 

Chapter One

Sunday, March 26th, 8:15 p.m. 

Claire slunk down into the hot water of her bath, bubbles around her as she grabbed up her wine glass and took a sip. She always kept a bottle of wine tucked away in her room for nights such as this. 

After leaving detention Saturday and putting on a show for her father she couldn’t get it out of her mind. She kept going back over everything that happened, not just between her and John, but all of them. 

She’d gotten home and went to her room, ignoring her father’s continued vitriol about John and what the heck she was doing kissing a boy like that. As she had dropped her purse onto her bed and removed her coat and gloves she caught a look at herself in the full length mirror near her closet and stared. 

She saw herself, her clothes, her hair and makeup, her whole demeanor and she spoke softly to herself, “You kissed someone today.” but the silence that came after was deafening. She had moved closer, really looking at herself, seeing herself from outside herself as Brian had said he’d done. 

It was then she realized she didn’t like what she saw. It wasn’t the clothes, makeup and hair she didn’t like, that was her style whether she was popular or not, this was the fashion she liked. But, there was something so harsh about the contradiction she saw. 

She wanted friends like Brian and Allison, she wanted friends like John and Andy. Friends who liked her for who she was, her arrogance aside, they’d found the girl underneath, and spent most of the day trying to pull her out from her safe little self-indulgent and self-obsessed bubble. 

Her outside matched her interests, she liked makeup and designer clothes and her red hair, what she didn’t like however, was the fact that her insides were all messed up. 

She wanted to be friends with them, she wanted to be a member of the Breakfast Club, but her fear of losing admiration and popularity, of losing her place among the A-Listers scared her for so many reasons. She’d seen what they do to people who even put a toe out of line, she had seen how cruel they could be to anyone who tried to break out of the mold they were born into. 

They didn’t actually like her for her, and they didn’t want to know the real her, they wanted to live in their shallow artificial bubble where it was safe and they were elevated above the rest. Claire however, found in that moment of staring at herself, the desire to escape from it all was growing, ardent and bright. 

She thought of the hug Allison and her had shared after Claire had finished giving her a makeover, and she had never known a hug could feel so real and warm. She’d hugged her other girl friends, but they had always felt so forced and expected. It hadn’t been real, their hearts and souls had never touched. 

But when she hugged Allison, the girl putting such force into it, a real bond had formed and it had felt like the best hug in the world. She felt like she could tell Allison anything, like the girl would really help her if she had a problem or needed advice and it wouldn’t be some offhand bullshit meant to simply shut her up. 

As Claire lounged in her personal bath and recalled how long she had stared at herself in the mirror, really thinking over how she felt about herself and what she really wanted, the need to talk it out became urgent. 

Claire set her wine aside and picked up the slip of paper that rested on the small table next to the tub, her eyes going over the number and the gentle hand writing before she let out a heavy sigh and grabbed up the phone, calling out of the house on her private line as she waited. 

A man’s voice answered, “Hello, Reynolds residence.” 

“Hello, is Allison home please?” Claire asked. 

“Who?” the man asked and for a moment Claire wondered if the girl had given her the wrong number, or if she had maybe dialed it incorrectly. 

“Allison?” she tried again, saying the name slowly and there was a pause before the man cleared his throat, “Right, Allison, the girl-” the man said and Claire felt her heckles raise just a little, “Yeah, Allison Reynolds. About sixteen, dark eyes and hair that has great potential?” and her tone was clipped, feeling the need to defend the girl against how indifferent the man seemed to be to her existence.

“Uh, right, uh...Allison… hey Allison, phone!” The call to his daughter had sounded awkward, as if he never really addressed her and Claire rolled her eyes. Feeling bad she even made a fuss about her own parents' lack of interest or care for her. 

At least my dad acknowledges me and knows who I am. 

There was a long pause and some shuffling and as Claire waited, the phone between her shoulder and ear, she looked at her nails, trying to decide what the best color would be. She liked this tone but maybe something a little more pink next time would- 

“Hello?” came Allison’s sharp tone and Claire smiled, “Hey Al.” and her voice was so fond she surprised herself and the girl on the other end let off a squeak, “Claire?” she asked softly, almost timidly. 

“Yeah. I still have your number. Wondered if you wanted to talk.” Claire said, still gazing at her nails as Allison paused and Claire focused back on the phone call as she asked, “Is now a bad time?” 

Another pause before Allison stammered out a quick, “N-No.” 

Claire sighed through her nose as she said matter-of-factly, “You know, if this makes you uncomfortable I can hang up. I don’t want to cause you any problems or anything.” Claire felt her heart wilt a little, her desire to talk to a girl and have an actual meaningful conversation for once apparently meaning much more to her than she thought it did. 

“No. It’s fine. What do you want to talk about?” Allison asked, her voice growing a little more brave. 

“Oh...I don’t know...I just...it’s silly...I guess...I just wanted to hear your voice...see if you’d still talk to me...if you were going to wear your hair up or down tomorrow...how you were going to do your makeup.” She’d said it all so calmly, being honest and giving that honesty to Allison and wondering what she would do with it. 

“Girl talk?” Allison asked, the hint of shock and excitement more obvious then she probably wanted it to be. 

Claire smiled softly, the girl’s reactions a tad endearing, “Yeah. If you want. If that’s something...you’d enjoy. I don’t want to force you...I just...really needed someone to talk to...someone...real.” Claire finished, that little bit of honesty slipping past her lips before she could stop it. Perhaps it was the glass and a half of wine she’d had mixed with the hot water of her bath. 

“I’m real.” Allison whispered, both in question and as a statement and Claire nodded even though the girl couldn’t see her, “I know.” 

“Okay.” Allison said, the last of her fight or flight leaving her as her real voice, soft and calm came forward. 

Claire bit at her thumb in excitement as she asked, “So, tomorrow, up or down? Black shit or light and airy?” 

Another pause before a snort came over the line, “I don’t know. Black shit...with hair up.” 

“What about light and airy, with hair partially down?” Claire offered, not wanting Allison to revert to her old makeup as she was incredibly pretty. 

“What are you going to do?” Allison asked quickly and Claire thought about it, “Same as yesterday, but with red lip gloss, maybe pink nails.” 

There was a pause, “Are you going to see John?” and the knowing tone made Claire freeze, she bit at her thumb nail harder, debating on that herself before she finally asked, “Truth?” 

“Truth.” Allison challenged. 

“I don’t know. Are you going to meet Andy?” 

Allison let out a gush of a laugh, “Yeah. By the steps. He called me. He promised.” 

Claire smiled happily, “That’s great. I’m so happy for you.” and for the first time when she said that she meant it and it felt good to be happy for someone else, so good, she didn’t understand why it was suddenly such a bad thing to hope for someone else's happiness. Her friends seemed to think it was stupid to do so and often gave platatudes of false sincerity when any one of them was doing well in their life only to turn around and slash them down when their back was turned. 

“I hope he does.” Allison said, trepidation in her voice, a longing that Claire suddenly knew all too well and she debated a moment before she offered an idea that was a bit surprising. 

“How bout this...how ‘bout...you meet me at school early, before you plan to meet Andy...I’ll do your makeup, and you can style your hair however you want then we won’t be-” but she trailed off as she realized what she was going to say and her knees came up out of the water before her as she hesitated. 

She heard the smile in Allison’s voice as she said, “Alone?” 

Claire nodded slowly only to remember this was a phone call, “Yeah. Alone.” and the worry in her voice was evident. 

“You like him.” Allison said. 

Claire didn’t need the girl to specify and she didn’t want to pontificate some bullshit lies about it, “Between you and me?” she asked softly into the phone. 

“Yeah, between you and me.” 

“I think so. We made a plan. But I don't know if I can follow through with it...I mean it's kind of screwed.” Claire offered as she stared off, gazing at the tiles of the wall in front of her as she mused on her and John's conversation in the closet. 

The way he touched her, kissed her...so gentle and soft, a sharp contrast to the harsh, hard and rough young man he presented himself as. Her cheeks flushed. 

“What plan?” Allison asked. 

Claire cleared her throat, pushing the memories a way for the moment, “A week. One week...to get under my parents skin...using him as a way to get back at my parents for being such total drags.” 

“But?” Allison asked. 

“If I want more I’m a slut right?” she asked. 

“Depends on the type of more you want.” Allison said honestly. 

“His arms around me...forever.” Claire admitted and her hand shook as she grabbed at her wine glass and took a swig. 

There was a long pause, Claire comfortable with letting it be, not feeling the need to fill the empty space as she often did with her other friends, constant prattle and nonsense to fill the void of how disinterested they truly were with each other. 

“That doesn’t make you a slut.” Allison offered softly. 

“What does it make me?” Claire asked fearfully. 

“Human.” Allison admitted and Claire found herself relaxing before she whispered out, “Thank you.” 

“Sure.” Allison whispered back, seeming to understand. Claire said nothing for a moment and Allison spoke next, “Claire? You still there?” 

Claire set her wine aside, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m still here. Just thinking.” 

“About what?” 

Claire hesitated but realized she’d come this far so why not continue, “Having a meaningful conversation feels...really nice. You’re...really nice. I actually feel...better. That’s never happened before.” 

Another long pause, and Claire waited, pressing the phone next to her ear and worried she’d crossed some line she didn’t know about. Maybe real friends didn’t share this much about how they were feeling. 

“For me either.” Allison added, “I like it too.” she confirmed. 

Claire relaxed again, “You’re the best. So...are you and Andy like together together? Or you guys have to come up with some lame excuse like I did with John?” 

Allison laughed, “That’s fucked.” 

“So fucked.” Claire agreed, knowing her and John’s situation was, in fact, ridiculous. But it seemed to her for now, it was what both of them were comfortable with. 

“Andy asked me to be his girlfriend.” Allison said slowly, almost as if she was savoring it and Claire smiled, “Good. Do your parents know?” 

A sharp snort met her ears and Allison sighed, “Even if they did they wouldn’t care. But their ignorance is my bliss. I can have him over whenever.” and the tone of her voice let Claire know what Allison had on her mind. 

Claire brought fingers back to her lips, “Are you going to do it with him?” 

Allison was quick to respond, “I don’t know. It’s only okay if you love someone, and I don’t know if I love him yet...or if he loves me.” 

“Yeah.” Claire offered softly, trying to imagine what it would be like to love someone so much you’d be okay giving your whole body to them. 

“Would you do it with John?” 

“What?” Claire asked. 

“Well, you said you only have a week. If you guys go your separate ways, you'll lose your chance. So I suppose the question is, are you curious enough to do it, even if you don’t love him?” 

“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think about that. But honestly, if I’m going to do it with someone, I’d want to be in love. And I’d want them to love me back...so I guess...no...not unless you can fall in love in a week.” 

“Anything’s possible.” Allison assured. 

“Right, like John Bender, Mr. burnout-bad-attitude-asshole would want to fall in love, let alone fall in love with a girl like me. He probably only agreed to help me thinking he might get lucky. Another picture in his wallet, and me, a girl he just considers.” 

Allison seemed to think a moment before she said, “Do you really think that's all he is Claire? That he would never want more? Like you do?" And Allison's voice wasn't admonishing or mean, in fact, it was so soft and held within it a question because Allison herself still didn't know. You wouldn't think so, but John Bender was complex and just like the rest of them, you couldn't judge him based on his appearance alone.

Claire hesitated, once again remembering the kiss they had shared in the closet. So timid and tender, so filled with a longing for something more than what either of them had.

"I don't know." And her voice was so soft, a whisper of a thing that showed her own confusion on the matter. 

Allison took the lead and said quickly, "Well, if you want him that way, you’re going to have to win his affections. Fight for it.” 

“Fight for what?” 

“His love. Ya think you could?” 

“I wouldn’t even know how. And anyway, that’d take longer than a week. Nobody is that good.” 

Allison gave a throaty laugh, “You forgot something though.” 

“What’s that?” 

“I saw the way he looked at you...all day long. Like he was thirsty...and you were a glass of water.” and her tone was both wicked and playful leaving Claire to bite her bottom lip. 

Claire swallowed, looking at the bubbles as she drew a lazy hand through them, “Lust isn’t love.” she whispered. 

“But love can be full of lust.” Allison countered. 

“What does that even mean?” Claire asked, her voice stressed. 

“I don’t know, I haven’t felt it yet.” the dark girl admitted and Claire glanced to the ceiling, “Me either.” 

“Maybe we have, but it takes time. Maybe you’ll know by Friday.” 

“Yeah. Maybe.” 

"So...at school...can I talk to you?" Allison asked. 

Claire hesitated, her mind jumping through it all. John and her hadn't really talked about whether or not they were going to pretend to be together at school, only whenever her parents were around. 

"Is that a no?" Allison asked and Claire sighed, "I want to see you at school...all of you. I want to sit with you guys and talk in the halls. I want out of...nevermind. I don't think you should. Even if I'm somehow brave enough to let down my guard if my friends see us talking you could become a target. I don't want that to happen. They can be...really mean." 

Suddenly her phone gave a beeping sound and she realized she had another call. She didn’t want to get off the phone with Allsion and so said quickly, “Hey, don’t hang up, I have a call waiting, don’t hang up and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay.” 

“Okay, hold on a sec.” 

She switched lines, “Hello?” 

“Hey Cherry.” Claire froze as she recognized the voice, swallowing as she asked, “John?” 

“Who else? Unless someone else calls you Cherry.” and the sly tone of his voice was thick with innuendo and her eyes jumped back and forth, “How’d you get this number?” 

“I'm just that good.” he teased and Claire looked around her, feeling like she was suddenly being watched only to stammer out, “Uh, hold on a minute, Allison is on the other….just wait a second.” 

She switched back to the other line, “It’s John.” she said, her voice worried, “What do I do?” 

Allison sounded confused when she offered up, “Talk to him?” 

“But...I’m naked in a bathtub!” 

“You’re naked right now?” Allison asked in surprise and Claire realized what she just admitted and pressed her hand to her face, “Sorry. Too much info. I’ll let you go. What time do you want to meet tomorrow?” 

“I’m meeting Andy at seven-thirty.” 

“So, seven o’clock? On the steps?” 

“Sure.” 

“Okay. See you then.” 

“Claire!” Allison suddenly snapped and the red head put the phone back to her ear, “If he asks what you're wearing...tell him.” Allsion ordered. 

“What? Are you crazy?” 

“Lust versus love, you want to learn to tell the difference...see how he responds.” 

Claire thought about that a moment and she nodded before she let out a breath, “Have a good night.” 

“You too and good luck.” 

Claire held the phone a moment, hesitating for a second longer before she pushed the button for the other line and slowly sat back, forcing calm into her voice as she started with, “Sorry about that, I was talking to Allison when you called. We’re meeting before school tomorrow...she’s going to walk in with Andy.” Claire admitted softly, her fingers playing with the phone cord as she waited. 

“Ah, a little girl time before boy time.” John teased over the phone and Claire nodded with a smile, “Yeah. I really like her...she’s...real.” Claire admitted again. 

“Interesting how that works isn’t it?” John asked casually, and Claire scoffed, “What do you want?” her tone wasn’t mean or snarky, in fact, it was soft and curious and she waited, wondering not only how he got her private number but why he was really calling. 

“I wanted to see if you were still on board with our little plan.” and his voice was matter-of-fact, teasing and holding a doubtful tone, but still straight forward. 

“I...I guess I don’t know. What did you have in mind?” 

“Nothing too scandalous, just something to get a rise out of the brain dead masses and get the gossip mill running. Your so-called friends will most likely tell their parents right?” 

“Yeah. Of course. Assholes.” she muttered, referring to how annoying the gossip mill at school was.  

“Their parents ever talk to your parents?” John asked. 

Claire realized where he was going with this, “You want to play telephone.” 

“I want to play a lot of things, but that’s a good start, Cherry.” and his voice was once again dripping with innuendo and Claire found herself reaching for her wine glass, water moving and sloshing as she did and John said softly, “Are you in a bathtub, Claire?” he asked in a rather amused tone and she froze, glass halfway up to her mouth. 

“Aaah, you are...with bubbles? What'd you pick? Lavander? Coco…nut. Maybe Rose hips?” and Claire set her glass back down, not even taking a drink. She sank lower in the water, the telephone cord only an inch from touching it, “What do you plan to do at school tomorrow?” changing the conversation quickly as her face bloomed with red. 

“Hmm...Cherry in the bathtub, that’s something I’d like to see. Your skin all wet. Would you let me dry you off? Use my hands? I'm good with my hands. Put my mouth on your-” 

“John-” Claire whispered and he didn’t say anything else for a moment, a poignant silence between them as he cleared his throat and scoffed, “Yeah, whatever. Fucking Cherries.” but the normal scathing heat wasn't in it and she noticed.

“The plan.” Claire stressed as she pressed the phone closer to her ear and closed her eyes, listening to his voice and trying to commit it to memory. She tried to ignore the small trickle of heat in her lower abdomen but just like in detention, his words got to her.

“Not much. We walk in tomorrow, my arm over your shoulder, I take you to your locker, I make a few obscene gestures at the people watching and then…” and he trailed off. 

“Then?” she asked as she swallowed. 

“I kiss you...maybe on the lips...maybe the neck...depends what you wear...but I kiss you...right in front of everyone.” 

Claire felt excitement swell, only for her to bite her lip a moment, trying to control it, trying to find a way to streamline the excitement into something that wouldn’t consume her, “And then?” 

“Then we go our separate ways. Don’t have to see each other the rest of the day. I meet you at your locker after school...we walk out together-” 

“And another kiss?” she asked suddenly only to nearly smack her own face, her eyes rolling at her own stupidity and she heard the amusement in John’s voice as he said slowly, “Is that what you want?” and his voice was lower now, silky, the hint of gravel from his smoking sending a shiver up her spine. 

"Do you like me Cherry? And here I thought it was just business." He teased with mirth. 

"Hardly." Claire scoffed, “It’d be more believable.” She was trying to play off her enthusiasm as logical but she had a feeling he knew better. 

There was a heavy pause, “Sure, Cherry. Sure.” John conceded and Claire nodded, “I don't know John. I don't know if I'm ready to....Allison asked if she could talk to me at school. I told her she shouldn't cause my friends...my other friends...could make her a target. I don't want you guys to have to deal with it...it's just drama ya know?" 

"Why do you care what those assholes think?" John barked, the question asked again as she never really truly answered on Saturday.

Claire's mouth opened without thought, the wine really doing a number in regards to getting her to over share, "I hate that I care. I hate that I care what they think of me...I hate myself for being this way. It's like...like I can't turn it off. Like I'm-" 

"Brainwashed?" John offered, and his tone was very knowing.

Claire swallowed, "Yeah. Something like that. I...hate it but that's how it is. I'm...scared. I don't think I can change that." 

"You won't know unless you try, Sweets." And the tone of John's voice was so sincere, a sort of hint at support maybe? Was he trying to sound supportive? Maybe he didn't know he was doing it? It wasn't very John. He was normally more blunt with her. 

"Don't be a chicken shit Claire. Grow a pair. You think this shit will matter when you graduate? Do you think any of this is worth the bullshit, their bullshit? You tell those assholes you're gonna like who you want to like! Stop letting them beat you into submission and for once in your life, fight back!" 

That was more the John she knew, the one she had fought with so much on Saturday. But, the way he had said that indicated to her that John wasn't just talking to Claire about standing up to her friends but maybe a bit to himself about a situation he'd only hinted at in detention. 

If John could go through that type of abuse at home, surely she could handle what her friends threw at her, "Where do you want to meet?” she managed. 

“After you finish your little girly meet-cute, come back outside with Smiles, I’ll be with Jockstrap.” 

“Alright.” and she closed her eyes again, wishing she had an excuse to stay on the phone longer with him, “John?” she asked quietly, sweetly.

Another pause because no doubt her tone had surprised him, “Yeah, Sweets?” he asked softly back, a little less mockery and hubris. A hint of affection and curiosity that put Claire at ease.

She wanted to ask him several things, she wanted to feel secure in her decision to do this, she wanted to hear his soft voice whispering about how everything was going to be okay. But that wasn't John and asking him to do so would put him in a position where he would have to lie. 

So, unlike with Allison, she chickened out and sighed as sadness swelled in her chest, the desire to be close to him hurting her insides when she denied them as she tried to control the tears in her voice, “Never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The silence was deafening, “Sure, Cherry. See you tomorrow...oh...and if you touch yourself tonight, think of me, won’t you?” 

Claire scoffed, “Pig.” and she hung up the phone, her anger flaring at his gull only for it to settle a moment later as she curled in on herself, wrapping arms around her legs as she smiled ruefully at his arrogance. 

Chapter Text

Chapter Two 

Monday, March 27th, 7:00 A.m. 

Claire was relieved when her father dropped her off early, after his never-ending but soft-spoken rant the night before she was worried he'd be reluctant to let her out of his sight. Allison stood by the stone steps of the school’s entrance just like they’d promised and Claire was excited to see her.  

“Whose that?” her father asked, not recognizing the dour girl near the school, “Allison,” Claire said with a smile as she grabbed up her bag and reached for the door handle.  

“Who?” 

“Nothing, never mind Daddy. I’ll see you later-” 

“Love you sweetie, and remember what I said about that boy. We all like to take a little risk and have fun. But you just tell him you think he’s nice but you can’t see him anymore. You can blame your old man, eh? I’ll take the heat.” 

Claire looked at him with a blank expression, not actually remembering the particulars of his long-winded rant about John. She’d been too far away, thinking about the very boy her father had spent his night reasoning was not a good match for her. 

“Uh-huh, sure daddy-" 

"Oh, princess, your mother left for the clinic and won't be back until Saturday. I'll be out of town until Wednesday. If you need anything you have my card. Be a good girl while I'm gone, okay?" 

Claire nodded, "Uh-huh. Love you, bye.” and she got out of the car and waved as she turned and headed quickly towards Allison, the girl smiling at her approach. 

As Claire came to stand before her she asked, “You have a good night?” 

“As if.” and Claire laughed, “Yeah, mine was a drag too.” 

Claire slid her arm through Allison's, the pair walking together up the stairs and into the school as they chattered quickly, “What did burnout say?” Allison asked. 

“Oh, he just wanted to go over the plans for today,” Claire said, her stomach twisting with excitement again as it had been doing all night and all morning. 

“And? What’s your plan ?” Allison teased and Claire rolled her eyes, “We’re going to walk in together too. He’s going to come to my locker and then kiss me and leave, it’s this whole deal-” 

“That’s it?” Allison asked with doubt. 

“Uh-huh. That’s all John says we need to do. I mean, it won’t take much to get the A-Listers talking... and it will eventually get back to my parents. Maybe it will make them wake up for a change, not try to use me to get back at each other so much” 

Allison nodded, following the strange logic Claire was delivering but more aware than Claire how much all of it was just an excuse for both her and John. She wouldn’t say so however, it wasn’t her place, “So you’re really going to go through with it?” 

The halls were empty, the girls having entered before anyone dared step foot inside, the nerds included. Their voices echoed in the silent halls as the halogen lights hummed and Claire sighed, “I guess. I mean, John had a point. Even if everyone thinks I’m slumming it for a week, once it’s over I can say it was just a way to get back at my parents. That’s enough to shut anyone up. They’ve all done it before, so it won’t look weird if I do, even if I’m using John to do it.” 

“Claire-” Allison said, her tone clearly doubtful as the red head looked at her as they stopped outside the bathroom. “Hm?” she asked and Allison opened her mouth only to close it, roll her eyes and sigh, “Nothing.” and Allison pushed the bathroom door open and Claire followed her in. 

It took about ten minutes to remove the black eyeliner the girl had caked on, a sign she didn’t quite trust Claire enough to be positive that she would show up. Claire said nothing about it though, and as she finished Allison’s new palette she asked, “So, hair, what do you want to do?” 

Allison turned to look in the mirror as Claire went about putting her makeup back in the case and the dark-haired girl once again stared at herself in wonder, a hand coming up to touch her lightly shaded cheek before she smiled wickedly, “Cyndi Lauper or Joan Jett?” 

Claire giggled, “Madonna.” 

Allison snorted, “Hardly.” pressing her sweater tight over her breasts and waving her chest around. Claire laughed harder at the girl who was doing several poses as she made a fish face via sucking in her cheeks and wiggling her lips and as Claire settled she said, “What about half up half down?” 

“All up, no flower band,” Allison said, looking at herself and pressing the mop of black hair back. Claire leaned in and smiled, “pretty.” 

As they walked out of the bathroom, Allison forgoing the white hair band with the flower in favor of Claire pulling the top half of her hair back into a short ponytail and allowing a few thicker strands to dust her forehead, they headed towards the front doors and Claire felt her stomach clench again. 

She suddenly stopped and Allison turned back to her, smiles fading as Claire pressed a hand over her stomach and swallowed. 

“What’s wrong?” Allison asked quickly. 

Claire looked up at her, red locks falling into her face as she was hunched forward a little, “I uh...I don’t think I’ve ever felt this nervous before. I think I’m going to be sick.” 

“Don’t get sick.” Allison ordered and Claire looked at her with a bit of a hopeless expression, “If you puke you won’t be able to kiss him.” 

Claire winced and after a moment trudged forward, once again locking arms with the girl as she said, “They’ll be there right? It’s 7:30...they will be out there.” 

“Uh-huh,” Allison said softly, nodding even though she sounded just as nervous as Claire. 

They opened the doors and descended the steps, looking around but not seeing the boys and when they reached the bottom they scanned right and then left, both of them relieved as John and Andy stood at the corner of the building, John smoking and Andy nodding, the pair talking amicably for a change. 

“Thank god.” Claire breathed and Allison let out a throaty laugh, “God has nothing to do with it. We're hot.” Allison moved like a magnet, yanking Claire along behind her, their hands together as she beelined for Andy, excitement in every step. Claire followed but kept her eyes down. 

They boys had noticed them and though Andy stood quickly, his excitement to see her obvious, John continued to stand, a hand in one pocket of his long coat while the other pulled a smoke from his mouth as he exhaled the smoke slowly. 

Allison finally let her go and ran to Andy who gave her a hug before pressing a kiss to his lips. As they pulled apart Allison leaned into his chest, “Hey.” he said softly. 

“Hey,” she whispered as she looked up into his happy face and let out a content sigh. Claire stood a foot or so away, watching them, smiling happily for the girl only to realize John was staring at her calmly. 

Slowly she approached, footsteps measured before she came to stand beside him and glance up, “Hey.” 

“Sup.” John said in return before pressing his hair back, the soft layers feathering down around his face, “Don’t I get a kiss, Cherry?” and the sardonic smile on his face spoke volumes of his mood. 

She glanced at Andy and Allison, the pair looking from each other to her, Andy in surprise and Allison with curiosity. 

She looked back to John and Claire noticed that right below his jaw on his neck there was a relatively large bruise, one that hadn’t been there Saturday and it occurred to her that she had been correct in her assumption that last night John's dad had upset him and most likely gone at him. Thus he'd turned around and yelled at her to do the very thing he hadn't been able to do.

Stop letting them beat you into submission and for once in your life, fight back!

She wasn’t sure why she did it but she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his jaw, right above the mark, “Sorry.” she said softly into his ear and as she pulled back John studied her, his face showing he knew she’d noticed and he wasn’t sure if her apology was for the lack of gusto upon seeing him or for the fact that he’d been hurt. There was a resentment in his face she noticed and she looked away, realizing that might not have been the right thing to do. 

The kids started to show up, both buses and parental cars arriving, the masses of hormonal and chittering teenagers who went to Shermer High moving in their groups or on their own into the building. 

The four stood there silently, Allison snuggled up on Andy’s arm and Bender smoking as they waited, people noticing the odd group and passing by with glances of interest or confusion.

"So-" Andy started, looking at Claire as he gave a rather curious look, "You really going to do this?" 

Part of her hated how doubtful he sounded and she knew it was her own fault. It wasn't too late to turn back but Claire felt her heart ache at the idea of abandoning them. She may act it, but she wasn't as shallow or heartless as she appeared and after everything that had happened she found a small fire had started inside of her. 

"I don't know. I feel...like I have no choice. I don't want to not hang out with you guys but if I blow you guys off I'm fucked." 

"You're fucked either way." Andy said, "you bail on us and all you have left is them-" referring to Claire's regular crowd of friends, "You really want to spend the next two years caring what other people think of you? I sure as hell don't." 

Claire gave a soft nod before she felt the cold morning air rush past her legs and she shivered, stepping closer to John. When an arm came over her shoulder she looked up to see him take a drag off his smoke, eyes scanning the passers-by with a bored expression.

"It's worth it-" Claire started and John glanced at her, "But you know what happened to Sarah." 

Andy's eyes darted between John and Allison quickly as he gave a subtle shake of his head, "We'd never let that happen. But beyond that, you don't ever let that happen to yourself." 

Claire sighed and Allison gave a confused look, "Whose Sarah." 

"Nothing. No one." Andy said as he wiped a hand over his mouth, eyes still meeting Claire's who looked away in shame. 

"This is just high school. I mean, it's not forever. I want happiness now, I don't want to wait for it-" and he looked to Allison who was still curled up under his arm, "I'm not going to wait for it." And his voice sounded so sure. 

"Gee Sporto, why don't you hump her leg while you're at it." John suddenly teased and Allison smiled ruefully, "Kinky." 

Claire started laughing and Andy rolled his eyes and tried to hide his smirk. She felt her body relax a little and she leaned into him, his arm bringing a much needed warmth to her neck and soon enough the four were chatting softly amongst themselves. 

They were pulled from their conversation by a voice, “Hey guys!” and they all looked to see Brian striding up, “I didn’t know we were meeting this morning.” he said in confusion, “It just sort of happened.” Andy admitted, “I planned to meet Allison and I guess Claire was meeting John, we didn’t mean to leave you out, man.” and he looked at the kid sheepishly and Brian nodded, “The pains of being the fifth wheel.” he joked and the group's tension eased a little as Brian turned and gave a wave to another kid who had called his name. 

When he turned back he smirked, “So, who has lunch in the second period?” 

“Me.” they all said at once and it occurred to them that this entire year they had all had lunch together and had not once noticed each other. There was a stunned silence and then they started to laugh, “You gotta be kidding me.” Claire said, “Where do you sit?” she asked Allison, “In the corner by the vending machines. I people-watch.” 

She looked to Brian, “with the Nerds by the activities board.” 

When she looked at Andy he rolled his eyes, “Where do you think, by the doors leading to the gym with the rest of the sports.” 

Her eyes finally turned to John who said, “I don’t eat lunch.” and Claire nodded, “Right...you go to the parking lot and get high.” and she said it as a matter-of-fact not in a way meant to insult him and shook her head, “We were so oblivious.” she said looking at Andy whose face lost it’s smile and he gave her a rather pensive stare. 

“Wait...does this mean we can sit together at lunch?” Brian asked, his eyes jumping between them all cautiously, feeling out their response to the idea. 

"I don't know-" Claire said, sounding dubious about it, her eyes meeting Andy's whose jaw clenched a little as he too knew the implication of him and Claire abandoning their usual spots to sit apart from their groups.

"Why not?" Brian asked her directly and Claire went to answer only for John to cut her off, “You gonna buy me lunch, squirt?” 

Brian met his gaze, face still expressionless as he said, “sure.” almost challenging John to accept. 

“Then I’m fucking in. Smoking just gives me the munchies anyway and I didn’t get breakfast.” Suddenly Allison reached into the pocket of her parka and pulled out a granola bar which she held out to John, “It’s chocolate.” 

John stared at it a moment before he rolled his eyes, “Like I need your fuckin’ charity.” 

Allison smirked, “It has Almonds, I wanted peanut butter.” and she chucked it at him, John catching it before it smacked him in the face and he smirked, “Thanks Smiles.” Allison nodded. 

The bell rang and all five of them started walking, a summons beckoning them to act without even realizing as they continued to chat.

None of them really thought about it, the group was so caught up in talking about lunch and their classes they didn't think about the fact they were walking in together.

This had not been the plan, but as does often happen with teenagers, they were so focused on their conversation that they were oblivious to what was going on around them.

Claire was tucked under John's arm and Allison under Andy's, the two girls next to each other with Brian in between, interjecting here and there as the girls giggled. John and Andy were also talking, but given it was over the top of three heads they had to talk a little louder which pulled the other three in and soon enough they were a regular group, all talking to each other without thought.. 

They were a group that was unaware of the attention they stole. Eyes and ears of other students staring and trying to eavesdrop. 

At one point John snatched Brian's knit hat off his head and tossed it to Andy who pressed it down onto Allison's head and Brian met Allison's eyes as the girl smiled wickedly, "I'm smart now." 

Most of them laughed, John giving an amused smirk and keeping quiet. This got Claire's attention and she ignored the others' antics as she glanced up at him.

"You okay?" 

He seemed confused by her question and looked away, "Fine. Why?" 

"Well...you're just...so quiet. That's not normal-" 

"Like you know my normal. Drop it Cherry. It's nothing for you to worry your pretty red head about." 

"You think I'm pretty?" Claire asked with a mischievous smirk. 

"Fuck off." He muttered as his hand slid from her shoulders to around her waist and pulled her closer. 

"Bye guys, see you at lunch." Brian suddenly said and they all waved except John who saluted. 

Andy and Allison headed off together towards her locker and Brian headed to his, leaving John with Claire, the girl smiling after them. 

"Wasn't as bad as you thought being seen with us freaks, huh?" John suddenly asked and Claire turned to him. 

That's when she realized they were standing near her locker in the hall and her eyes bulged, "Shit." Claire gasped as she turned and wished she could bury her head in her locker, “You did that on purpose!” she whined softly. 

“Sure as hell fucking did, and look, the Earth is still spinning.”  

Claire gave a frustrated scoff, “Sometimes you make things so difficult.” she started opening her lock, hands trembling. 

“It’s a hobby,” John said as he used a finger to push some hair across the back of her neck. 

She turned to look at him, the touch delicate and drawing her attention, “What is it when you make it easy?” and he looked at her, Claire biting her bottom lip and her cheeks tinged pink, “A pleasure.” he stated in a voice filled with promises. 

She opened her locker only for John to push it shut sharply, “You ready?” he asked.

She studied his eyes, body filled to the brim with nerves, dread and excitement, “No half-ass shit like last time when we were by daddy's car, you don’t stop until I do. Got it?” and he didn’t sound annoyed so much as a person giving her instructions on how to ride a bike or fix a broken chair. 

"Maybe we should wait. Give it a day or two. We already walked in together." And she turned to face him, her back pressing against the locker as she crossed her arms. 

"Doesn't count." John challenged. 

"How doesn't it count? I did it, didn't I?" 

"Wasn't a conscious decision. You were distracted. This will be a conscious decision." John offered by way of explanation.

Claire stared at him and realized his point but she still felt like she'd been tricked and this was unnecessary no matter how much she actually wanted to do it anyway. 

John suddenly pressed close, leaning in as his hair fell down to hide his face. 

"John-" Claire whispered as her hand pressed at his chest. He simply took hold of her wrist and gently pulled it away, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was relaxed at first but after a moment John opened his mouth and Claire gasped a little as his tongue grazed across her lips, “Easy.” he warned calmly against her mouth before returning, a knuckle running down the side of her throat and Claire ended up frenching him in the hall. 

Her entire body was vibrating, her heart pounding, the area between her legs once again growing wet as her hand raised and cupped at his jaw, the girl slowly sliding her tongue forward and washing across his. 

John gave a soft hum, smiling a little before he pulled back and pressed his forehead to hers, “Naughty naughty, Cherry.” 

“I was following your lead.” she admitted and he just chuckled, “Better be careful, you keep kissing like that and a week won’t be long enough.” 

“Long enough for what?” she asked softly, meeting his gaze which was suddenly rather soft, a gentle fondness in his eyes that she found breathtaking. 

“Now, Sweets, that would ruin the surprise,” and he leaned in again, giving her one more slow kiss before pulling away, “See you at lunch, Cherry.” and there was an amusement in his voice she’d never heard before. She watched him walk away for a moment, licking her lips lightly without even realizing it. 

She then turned back to her locker, glancing down the other end of the hall to see people watching her intently before she turned back to her locker and stared at it a moment, dread filling her stomach. 

Page Break 

John sank into his desk in the back of the class, his eyes heavy and head aching, it hurt when he swallowed and he felt a little light-headed. 

Sunday had been a good day until his old man came home. God, he hated when his old man came home. Always something to bitch about, always something to be angry about. Never just happy to be alive. 

John mused on the fact Claire had just kissed him in the hall and the pains in his body dulled a little. Something about her soothed him. Yet his back gave a sharp spasm and he grit his teeth. 

He’d dicked around with his buddies on Sunday, playing poker and smoking before spending a few hours in his buddy Jake’s garage, making a few extra bucks that he could stash away in his dresser at home. 

Upon arrival he’d found his mother in the kitchen skulking around and making some semblance of dinner, grumbling about how he should get the garage cleaned up before his father came home and to keep out of his father's way when he did.

 His mother, ever the survivalist, was always quick to take her husband's side, but when the man was gone, she at least gave him fair warning of what was expected of him before his father’s return. 

John had gone to his room, planning to smoke a little before he went and cleaned up the garage like his mother had warned and take a shower before it was too late. Once his dad was home, there would be no chance as the man liked to keep the water bill as low as possible. 

Upon emptying his pockets he’d found a crumpled piece of paper he hadn't put there and opened it to see a handwritten note. Claire’s private phone line, she likes you. Make a move burnout. -A

He’d stared at it a moment, trying to think of when Allison would have been close enough to him to shove the note in his pocket but whatever the case he didn’t really care. He stared at the note for several minutes. 

He imagined himself calling only for Claire to hang up or tell him off or even worse, laugh at him. Yet as he spied the digits the reclusive girl had scribbled his heart pounded and he felt stupid for it. He forgot about the garage, forgot about dinner and forgot about his shower. His mind burned brightly with the idea of hearing her voice, of talking to her when they weren’t around other people. One on one, just like in the closet. 

She’d given him signals, too many for him to not notice, and while he’d never normally give a girl like her the time of day, something about her had been like an addiction. He had been unable to not look at her, unable to not think about her. Eyes finding her all day... him finding her all day like a bloodhound on a scent....like a fucking puppy crawling blindly in search if it’s mothers tit. 

He’d sat on his bed for nearly two hours smoking and thinking about her and Saturday, the time slipping by and his mother not warning him at all about how late it was getting. When the lights flashed across his bedroom announcing someone had pulled into the driveway he panicked and had literally ran to the garage. 

It was no use of course, there was never enough time, and he’d gotten his ass handed to him like always. As his dad had kicked at him and vomited his old school ideologies of how a son should behave his mind had wandered back to Claire and a moment they had in the library. 

He pulled out the two books right in front of her, sliding them back and to the right on his shelf as he rested his chin on an arm and smiled at her playfully, “Hi.” he said softly, meeting her eyes as he smirked. 

“Can’t you please leave me alone?” she asked softly, her voice stressed but not as bitchy as he expected. 

“I’d leave you alone if you weren’t giving me all these signals not to leave you alone.” he offers matter-of-factly. Bringing his hand to rest before his face on the shelf. 

“What signals?” and the confusion and snark in her voice is evident. 

“Well, every time I say something, you say something back. You must want me to continue.” 

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “No, I don’t think so.” and it’s her turn to sound sure, but it’s not there.  A half-hearted denial he finds enticing. 

Knowing that Brian is on her right he asks without breaking eye contact, “Brian, do you think she’s interested?” 

The books suddenly slide, three shifting over to give John a clear view of his face and the nerd looks unimpressed as he gives a resounding but sleepy, “No.” 

John calmly shoved the books back, blocking the scrawny boy’s face, his voice remaining soft as he said, “That’s the last time I call you Brian, Smegma Toast.” 

He glances back at her, gives a faint nod that he’s leaving her alone and slides the books back into place, the smile on her lips trying to hide behind a bite of her teeth as her eyes sparkle at him. 

When his father had tired himself out and grown bored with John’s fetal position on the floor he’d walked off and John had slowly pulled himself together and cleaned up the garage. His mother bringing him a half-melted ice pack and an I-told-you-so, her own black eye freshly iced, and a smack upside the head had been her goodnight kiss.  

Upon making his way back to his room without disturbing his father John had called her, didn’t even hesitate, only to find that the line was busy, so he’d let it go for a few extra seconds, realizing he wanted to hear her voice more than anything in the world. He smiled roguishly when there was a louder beep and she answered. 

The conversation was thrilling, far more thrilling than it should have been given he was in extreme pain and exhausted. But her lips had been on his mind all day, and the desire to kiss them again had been boiling in his blood. 

He had been on cloud nine, pretty pleased with himself for how things had gone. He’d gone to bed without dinner, without showering and in a large amount of pain but somehow his lot in life felt a little less dark than it did before. 

He’d been sore when he went to bed but he was down right aching when he woke up. The only thing that got his ass out of bed and to school so fucking early was the fact that he was going to get a kiss from her, and this time he was going to get a good one, like the one in the closet, the one that left him with dreams that made him sweat. He’d smoked a bowl in hopes it would dull the pain his body was under and crawled out through his window. 

John sighed contentedly and slumped further into his desk, hands in his pockets and sunglasses over his eyes. Clark still had the other pair he’d given him on Saturday, these were the ones he’d bought for when his bike was finished. Which wouldn’t be for a long fucking time if his bank account had any say. 

Still, he cared little about the fact that these sunglasses blocked less of the overhead lights and more about the fact that he’d given some tongue to Claire Standish. And that she’d been brave enough to kiss him back. 

She tasted like coffee and lip gloss, cherry flavored, and she smelled like flowers and sweet cream. Goosebumps ran across his skin slowly, his eyes closing as he thought of it. The teacher started class but John tuned it out, wanting to think about that kiss. Her tongue was like fucking velvet and her skin was so soft. 

She’d let him touch her in the closet, run his fingers all over her neck, shoulder and chest, kiss her, taste her...she’d cried...like his rejection might actually mean something to her. She’d acted like she cared about what he thought of her. There was desire in her eyes and John had found it so tempting he’d braved her dismissal and had been rewarded.  

John’s stomach tightened a little and a small pulse ran through his body. He hated that he liked her, wanted so badly to lump her in with the rest of the A-List activities assholes, but no matter how hard he’d tried, both to wake her up and melt the cold exterior she presented or yelled at her in order to keep her from getting too familiar (he had mixed priorities he could admit) his eyes continually found her. 

There had been a desire, perhaps a longing that was foreign to him. He’d wanted other girls, had desires to get them in bed and on their backs...quickies here, a raw hook up there….once behind a dumpster (not his proudest moment) but something about her didn’t make him want to hump and run. 

Something about her...made him want to stay...even if only a little longer...and while she was an exceptional tease...there was also something so...visceral about her. A hidden freak...a girl who was so innocent but teetered on the edge of wanting to push her boundaries. 

She was a girl inside a mold that others had made for her and John had gotten the distinct impression she wanted out of it. Fear kept her put, it steadied her hand from doing anything rash...but he had wondered if lust would be enough to tip her over. 

He’d attacked her sexuality on Saturday, pushing just a little with questions she didn’t want to answer. 

Have you ever kissed a guy on the mouth? 

Are you a virgin? 

Have you ever been felt up, over the bra, under the blouse, shoes off, hoping to God your parents don’t walk in? 

He could tell by looking at her that she hadn’t, aside from being attractive and popular no rumours had ever circulated about the red head with any guy in the school and she didn’t tend to engage in talk about sex either. Often commenting on anything sexual, jokes or otherwise, as gross. 

Yet while she had seemed visibly distressed by his gentle prodding about her sex life she’d also hung off every word, hardly blinking and he’d noticed her hands clench on the desk. He knew he got her attention, locked her in by presenting something to her she’d never experienced. He still wondered if they had been alone and Andy hadn’t stopped him, what would have happened next. 

He imagined that moment under the desk, seeing her white panties between smooth milky legs and he hadn’t been able to stop himself. Part of him had simply wanted to see if they were cotton or silk but another part wanted to press her thighs apart and taste her. 

She’d ended that quickly, smashing his head between her knees, to say it was an accident however was only partially true. His dick sent him in before his brain could tell him to stop. 

Afterwards, when he’d grabbed his bag of bud from Brian he’d glanced at her and saw how utterly dejected she had felt about it. Objectified and molested, she sat staring uncomfortably forward, and while he’d felt bad, it had come and gone so quickly it couldn’t be helped. 

However, that didn’t stop her from being the first to follow him to the back, sitting down near him and watching him quietly as he rolled four small joints. 

He’d glanced at her, sitting there with her hands on her knees, legs firmly closed and not making eye contact. 

He’d wanted to tell her that the panties were cute, but his dick wasn’t in charge at that moment, and knew to keep his mouth shut. He wasn’t completely without a filter, after all. 

And god, was she cute as hell when she was high. Saying things and smiling at him, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling back at her, watching her, adoring the shit out of how her lungs spasmed and she coughed and how she held the joint like a cigarette, all prim and proper even when she was doing drugs. Claire once again let her guard down enough to simply exist with all of them. It had been more compelling than anything else so far that day.

God, what’d he give to see her for real. He clenched his teeth, his hands fisted tightly in his pockets. 

You got her for one whole week, kisses, and maybe more if you play your cards right. Probably won’t do it...but you might get damn close...see her smile at you...looking at you like you aren’t the shit under her boots. It’s going to be a fan-fucking-tastic week. 

When the bell rang he dutifully stood like everyone else and moved on. He’d planned to skip his second class only to remember Allison was in it and so he marched on, not bothering to get anything from his locker as he didn't have shit on him today. 

“She was kissing him, I saw it!” 

“Bender? Standish was kissing Bender?” 

“I know...it was kind of hot...in a weird way.” 

"Ew, you're gross."

Bender smirked as he passed the two girls, underlings to the top dogs and the ones that were thrown around the jocks like fucking second hand news. They weren’t necessarily bitches, and weren’t often afraid to talk to people outside of their cliche, but they stayed resolutely resting in the shadows of the A-Listers hoping to be noticed and given a chance, and would eventually be the ones to take the place of those who graduated. 

A fucking circle of carnage and waste... Bender mused as he turned, entering class. As he moved passed Allison who was already sitting off to the side he gave a subtle hand gesture for her to follow, she did without hesitation. 

They settled in the back, the teacher rambling on about group projects, “You got a partner?” Bender asked. 

Allison shook her head and smiled at him hopefully, “Congrats, you got the laziest guy in class.” 

“Just cause you want to know what Claire and I talked about last night, right?” and her smile was knowing and John sighed and looked away, debating for only a second, “You got me. But also cause you're weird too. I like the weird. It looks good on you. Not a lot of people can break the mold so thoroughly and actually enjoy the outcome.” and his eyes rolled across the class before him with a quasi-sympathetic gaze, “Fucking clones.” he murmured, “Oh yeah, and to tip my hat for the number you dropped in my pocket. Didn't find it until Sunday, but still appreciated it.”

“No problem, sailor. I like you too. You’re rough...but funny. And people follow you, I do too.” 

John looked at her sideways, propping a lazy arm up on the back of his seat as he scoffed, “Oh yeah, I see so many people lining up to get a piece of this wisdom.” 

“The Breakfast Club. We follow you.” Allison said quickly. 

“Bullshit, don’t paint a picture that ain’t worth the paint you slop on the canvas, Smiles. You want a leader, look to Jockstrap, he-” 

“He challenged you...and he lost. Sure, he got you on the floor...but he didn’t win...you got Claire...and the others looked to you...I look to you.” 

John’s face gave the impression of being utterly confused, his eyes narrowing as he asked in a motherly tone, tapping her hand lightly with his, “Sweetheart, did we do drugs this morning?” and Allison laughed, “We follow you because you represent what all of us want.” 

Bender smirked, “Enlighten me, Smiles. What could I have that any of you could possibly want?” 

Allison gave a Cheshire grin before she said softly, “Freedom.” 

John stared at her for a long moment, the rest of the class in their groups of two and working studiously, John and Allison just staring at each other in the back. 

“Claire does like you by the way,” Allison said as she finally broke his gaze and started to pull two notebooks and two pencils from her overburdened bag. 

John took the pencil and notebook reluctantly, watching her as she opened hers to the first page and he started to tap his pencil thoughtfully, “I can tell. She wants a walk on the wild side, I have no problem giving her a taste.” Lord knew after this week she’d wash her hands of him pretty fucking quick. Then again, she’d been surprisingly agreeable this morning. 

“No.” Allison said quickly, looking up at him and meeting his eyes, her mirth was gone and so was her smile, she was serious and John waited, “She likes you. Don’t treat it like a game. She might even love you someday. I can tell by how she talks about you. If you can’t treat her right...drop her now.” 

John’s inside had gone cold at Allison’s comment, the thought that Claire might want more than a week of slumming it making his heart flutter. It was romantic bullshit but he felt it and it annoyed him. Having longer than a week meant more possibilities, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to wrap her up in bed next to him and never let her leave. 

“If you call it off now, she’ll recover, Claire’s resilient. Her mask is still on. She still has a place here that she can fall back to, even if it’s with the riches.” 

“So.” John snapped lightly, glaring at the girl as his hackles raised but Allison wasn’t scared of him and so she said with some snark of her own, “If you make her feel safe only to bail-” 

John waited, giving her a sour look, “She’ll break.” Allison said finally. 

“Boo-hoo. The princess gets a lesson in pain. Big deal, isn't like she doesn't need it.” John mused and Allison started to write something down, “You like her too. I don’t know if you want to love someone...but I bet if you did-” and she looked up again, his eyes meeting hers and his jaw clenching, “you’d be great at it.” and she went back to writing, John staring at her for a moment only to smile and shake his head. 

The basket case strikes again. 

Allison had assured him she would take care of the project, it was easy and wouldn’t take her long to compile the resources and information she needed. It suited John fine, he didn’t have time for that bullshit anyway. 

His next class was crapshoot civics and so he decided to skip the first half for a smoke break. It was uneventful and by the time he walked in with the excuse of explosive diarrhea, the teacher not appreciating his excuse in the slightest and the class laughing hysterically, he settled down at his desk and tuned out the movie they were watching on the Constitution. 

He continued to daydream, thinking about what Allison said, his mind a blaze of thoughts and stunted feelings he couldn’t quite break apart. Allison seemed to be under the impression that Claire actually liked him. John had assumed that she was attracted to him but for reasons other than actual interest.

The princess chased the Criminal because he was forbidden and a “bad boy” to use a term John hated with a passion. She’d get bored with him just like most girls did or use him for whatever it was she wanted and then move on. That’s how it usually happened and John found it easier to simply let it happen then figure out why. He was never the type to grovel and chasing after girls who obviously lost interest wasn’t his style. 

He thought back to the morning and how she had given him a soft kiss right above the bruise his father had left on him last night, giving a soft apology that created a bag of mixed feelings in his chest.  He’d wanted to tell her to fuck off, that he didn’t need her pity or anyone else’s. He also wanted to scoop her up and carry her off to some private area where she could do it again. 

Because her kisses felt like they could make the bruises not matter, make them not hurt so damn much. She’d put it together, realized he’d had a bad night while at home. She’d tried to comfort him...he’d been unable to respond. His defense was always angry because that seemed to be what chased most people off and protected him. 

He didn't want to be anybody's fucking sympathy case. So his father was a bit rough, John was still alive and fine. He wasn't a pushover or a pussy. He proved that Saturday.

The Breakfast Club were the only ones who hadn’t run. He’d shown them the very worst, and still, they had continued to spend time with him, talk to him and even share his weed. They hadn’t been put off by his crazy because they were all a little crazy. 

There had been something so exciting about pushing them out of their comfort zones, seeing them step out of the boxes they had all been put into. They were more like Bender than they were like the people they hung out with, which is what irked him. 

They could hide it, he couldn’t. Allison chose not to, but sometimes Bender did wish for just a moment, he could hide the fact that he was a bomb ready to explode. Most of the time he savored the fact he wasn’t pinned down to some conformist bullshit, becoming just another peon for the system to spit out and send on their way. 

Claire, Andy, and Brian had gotten a taste of freedom, and Allison had been able to express herself. John just wanted someone to talk to that wasn’t high all the god damned time. They all completed a perfect circle meant to break the hypocrisy and stereotypes the world around them created. 

So when Claire had kissed his bruise and apologized while part of him really hated the pity, part of him loved the empathy and care. Because God, did he want someone that cared. He acted like he didn’t, acted like he was strong and could take care of himself, but what he would give for someone to care about him for longer than a one-night stand. 

This one-week-long ruse he had somehow managed to eke out of the prom queen was going to be the longest time spent with one single girl. Any others he had been with tended to get what they wanted and move on. Be it weed, sex, or attention they were quick to snatch it up and find someone else to bed down with. But Claire, for one week he had her all to himself. He wouldn’t allow himself to pretend it meant more, because chances were it didn’t. But for a moment, he was going to pretend she wanted him, and for a little while at least, care about him.  

Civics ended with a lackluster homework assignment he probably wouldn’t do and he was beelining towards the front doors to get in a smoke before lunch when he heard a familiar voice, “Leave it alone, Becca.” 

If he had been a dog his ears would have perked and his tail would have wagged. Just the sound of her voice cut through all the din caused by the other students bustling between class or the lunchroom and his head turned and eyes locked onto a pale pink sweater that had just disappeared around the corner. 

He moved quickly, ignoring the dull ache hunching over his back created as he slipped around the corner. 

“Claire, you can tell me. I’m your best friend, are you just wanting to slum it for a few weeks? I mean, that’s cool, I’ve done that...hell, Leighanne’s done it. It’s nothing to be shamed about. It isn’t like the sports guys are top tier. Ashley has a flavor of the month! But Bender? I mean, the guy's not just a burnout, he’s a loser. He doesn’t have any prospects. Or friends. Or...anything! What could he possibly have to offer besides drugs and sex!?” 

“Will you please just leave it alone? I don’t want to talk about it.” John ducked into a doorway, wanting to hear the supposed "peer pressure" Claire said was so hard to ignore. It would let him know what he was up against and possibly give him inside knowledge on how to break her mold. 

“Look, as your friend I recommend you give him a week, then drop him hard. He’s not going to care anyway, and if you put out use protection...lord knows what diseases he might-” 

“Stop!” Claire bit, “Just stop it. You don’t know him. It isn’t like-” 

“And you do? You’ve never said two words to the guy, I heard-”

“I don’t care what you heard, okay? Damn, just leave it alone. What I do with John is my business. It’s between us. Can we please go, I really don’t want to miss lunch.” Claire turned but the ratty blonde called after her, “Does this have to do with Brant Hill?” 

Claire stopped, her eyes jumping back and forth quickly before she turned around, “What about Brant Hill?” 

John could see the way the girl smiled at her, Becca had caught her attention. Brant hill was not a familiar name to him, the people Claire hung out with were nothing to him, meant nothing to him, their names least of all. 

“Brant told Liam who told Jamie who told me that he’s been admiring you for a long time. You know how his dad works for yours right?” and Claire nodded nervously. 

“Well I heard from a… reliable source… he was going to talk to his dad about you...about his dad talking to your dad...about stuff.” 

Claire spun around, “Over my dead body!” 

Becca ignored her little outburst and continued, “My thought is if you get with Bender...Brant will lose interest...suddenly your problems are solved. Screw Bender to get Brant off your scent. He doesn’t do sloppy seconds.” 

“That's not… don't be gross. And I don't need my parents to find me a boyfriend. I can find my own thanks.” Claire’s face was red, eyes glossy, hands holding her books tightly to her chest, “this is the fucking 80s, I have a choice in who I date. I don’t need them to find me a boyfriend like some virgin princess. And I sure as hell wouldn't want it to be Brant Hill if they did.” 

Becca moved to stand before her, arms holding her book in a mimic of Claire and studying her face, “Look, I get it's lame, but Brant is rich and good looking. A really stellar background, from an old-money family like yours.” 

“So?” Claire asked defensively. 

“Well, I mean, appearances are important. So, he’d probably treat you okay...you’d be in a position to find someone else. He probably would too. It’s how it works.” 

“God Becca, do you hear yourself!? And anyway, just because my parents agree to it doesn't mean I have to. I saw what it did to them, what it did to my mom. I’m not going to turn into that. I can find my own hus- boyfriend. I can find my own boyfriend.” and Claire started to walk again only for Becca to catch up with her, “Claire! You know what happened to the last girl that refused Brant. You tell your dad no, he tells Brant’s dad no and Brant’s dad tells Brant who gets pissed. Don't put yourself in that position.” 

Claire groaned, “Please stop talking. I’m not scared of Brant Hill or his dad or anything.” 

“Earth to Claire, she ended up having to change schools, remember? Something about falling asleep at a party and waking up needing to take nine months off.” Claire stopped again. 

“That...what happened to Sarah at Zach’s party...that was-” 

“Yup, Brant Hill. Do you really want to get on his bad side? Besides, he's got excellent prospects, a future, you guys would look cute together, that’s a plus. Have you seen how awkward and ugly Blain and Piper look?” 

Claire leaned against a locker, “I thought they looked cute together.” 

“Pfft, as if. You need someone with a pedigree, not a mongrel.” 

“JOHN’S NOT A MONGREL!” and she stopped herself, looking down and biting her lip harshly as Becca cocked a hip, “Whatever, I’m not going to argue with you about breeding. We know Brant’s background and we know Bender’s.” 

“You don’t know anything about John’s...nevermind...just...nevermind.” 

“Why are you defending him? God and why are you suddenly so uptight, it’s like you’ve been brainwashed!” Becca whined. 

More like unbrainwashed. John mused angrily, his eyes reading Claire’s body language and guilt-ridden face as she brought fingers to her mouth, “God, Sarah-” she whispered regretfully. 

Becca seemed to move past Clarie’s obvious melancholy and kept talking, “It was her own fault. She should have been more willing to hear him out.” 

“Why would you encourage me to date someone like that?” Claire asked and Becca looked confused, “Why wouldn’t you want to? He’s a super creep but his family is super wealthy and even if the marriage doesn’t work out you’ll be loaded. He pisses you off or hurts you, you can just fly to Paris. Spend a few months in Europe. I mean, marriage is just like a contract. You know?” 

Claire hung her head, “What about love?” 

Becca finally seemed to be at a loss for words, musing on that comment for a long moment before she said softly, “What about it?” 

“Don’t you want it? At all?” Claire asked. 

Becca looked around awkwardly before she let out a huff, “It doesn’t exist. We both know that. Love your parents, love your siblings and grandparents...maybe some cousin or something, but anything else, well comfort should come first. And Brant could do that for you.” 

“We are in high school, Becca! We are only Sophomores! This shouldn’t even be a conversation we are having! I’m not going to dump John just because Brant Hill wants to play house! I mean, what about college, what about getting a job! What about anything other than pairing off and being miserable all for the sake of financial security?” 

Becca stared at her a moment before she asked, “What else is there?” 

Claire looked lost at the question before she looked down, “I don’t...I don’t know. But this can’t be all we have to look forward to. It can’t be.” 

“Seems like a good future to me. Financial security is really important.” 

Claire nodded, “Then you can marry Brant Hill and I'll take my chances with John! I got to go.” 

Becca looked stunned but chased after her quickly, “Claire...wait...Claire, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...sweetie come here!” Becca caught up with her and continued to yammer in her ear. 

You’re not friends with the same type of people Andy and I are, you don’t understand the pressures they can put on you. John was beginning to understand. The pressure Claire was under wasn’t just from people at school, but from her family as well. 

Suddenly Claire crying in detention about pressures the rest of them couldn’t understand seemed less self-indulgent. John didn’t even realize arranged boyfriends were even a thing and he sure as hell hadn’t expected Claire to have to face the possibility of one. 

It didn’t seem realistic, but what did he know? He wasn’t exactly from a high-class family. This was above his pay grade and while he finally was beginning to understand the pressures Claire had been talking about he wasn’t exactly sure what he could do about them. 

John schooled his features and stepped out of the doorway he’d been loitering in, walking towards the cafeteria slowly, trailing behind Claire and Becca, his new public enemy number one. The girl was still talking non-stop and Claire looked utterly burnt out. 

“So that’s it, right? Dating John for a few weeks will put Brant off, he’ll go bark up another tree.” 

“Sure, Becca, that’s it. You got it.” but Claire’s voice was morose, totally disconnected, and utterly ashamed. 

“Well, that explains it. I’ll let the girls know. We were worried for a second that you’d lost your mind. I hope you have some fun with him. Not too much mind you, but just enough. I’ll see you after school, I have to get to class.” 

Becca left Claire outside of the cafeteria, moving down the hall as if her life was the most perfect thing in the world. Claire looked utterly destroyed, an arm falling limp at her side, “Fucking Brant Hill ? Really? I haven’t even tried to get his attention. How did he even notice me? It doesn’t matter, once you turn eighteen they can’t tell you what to do...no one can. Finish High School and worry about Brant Hill later….god...I can’t believe this is happening to me.” she heaved a sigh and cleared her throat. 

“It’s not going to happen. I won’t let that happen,” she assured herself before she straightened up and continued on. John was only a few feet behind her, taking a quick step and sliding his arm around her waist, “Hey Cherry, what’s cookin’ good lookin’.” 

Claire had jumped at the sudden contact but had calmed the instant she heard his voice. She looked up at him and John watched as the happiest smile slid across her face, the traces of tears gone and the worry ebbing away from her brow. She swore something inside of him purred at such a look from her. 

“Hey, John.” and she instantly leaned her head against his side as they walked, sighing softly in a sort of contented way, her arm actually coming up to wrap around his waist. 

A wash of warm heat rolled through him from head to toe as she held onto him, returning his gesture with warmth. 

I got you, Sweets. I’ll keep the monsters at bay. 

They stood for a moment, scoping out the tables and Claire pointed towards Allison who sat alone by the vending machine, “You sure?” John asked in a voice that mimicked a concerned parent and Claire swatted at his side playfully before she nodded, “Yeah, I definitely want to see Allison. Right now.” 

As soon as Claire sat down next to the girl she wrapped her arm through Allison’s and laid her head on her shoulder, “Hey Al.” 

Allison looked at her for a moment, “What are you doing?” 

Claire glanced up, “I’m...leaning on you. That okay?” 

Allison waited a moment longer before she smiled and nodded, Claire then sighed, “Cool. Thanks.” 

Allison looked to John who sat next to Claire and she nodded her head towards the girl in confusion and John shook his head no once. He couldn’t even begin to explain the bizarre asshattery he has just witnessed. And telling the dark-haired girl with Claire at the table would only clue Claire into the fact he had been listening in. Allison shrugged as she went back to eating. 

“Where’s your lunch?” and the three looked up to see Andy sitting down with a tray piled with extra food. He sat next to Allison though he was speaking to Claire.

“Not hungry.” Claire said softly and Andy looked between the three who offered nothing and he shrugged, “Okay.” 

“Where’s Ahab, he owes me lunch, I could be in the parking lot getting stoned instead of sitting here with you jagoffs.” 

Allison gave a throaty laugh as she popped a piece of bread into her mouth, Andy just smirked, “He’s carrying two trays douchebag, never occurred to you he might need help?” 

John smirked, “This should be amusing.” 

Brian did make his way over, carefully balancing two trays, making it all the way without falling, when he arrived the table clapped, “I thought I was going to lose it when I passed by the sports table. I guess they had better things to do than trip me again.” 

“It gets boring, take it from a douchebag that knows.” Andy offered and Brian nodded, “Right, you tripped Willy Bergestock.” 

“I didn’t trip him, I was just there when Brad tripped him.” 

“Right. Of course.” Brian said, hiding a smirk behind his hand, “Here you go, Bender.” and Brian slid him the second tray, loaded with two of everything. 

Bender eyed him, “You think I’m too skinny or something?” 

“Well, I didn’t know what you liked and I didn’t want to pay for something you might not eat. Plus, you might have allergies. So I gave you some options.

Peanut Butter and Jelly or Tuna fish. Applesauce or cottage cheese, regular bread or corn bread, an apple or banana. Oh, and white milk or chocolate.” 

Everyone was chuckling softly and John stood and rounded the table, delivering a massive kiss to the top of Brian’s head, “Ain’t this guy a peach?” 

“Knock it off,” Brian said, waving Bender off and he returned to his spot by Claire, the girl now sitting up and staring at the table. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her next to him, her chair sliding as she went, “Don’t be sulky, your friends are all here. It’s rude.” Bender ordered. 

Claire looked at him before looking back at the group, and they all smiled. 

"So...I saw you talking to Becca. She ream you?" 

Claire shook her head softly, "No. But now she thinks I'm only hanging out with John to get Brant Hill off my back." 

Andy stopped chewing, looking at her with a rather dark expression, "You made his list?" 

Claire looked away, "I guess." 

"What list? Whose Brant Hill?" Brian asked. 

Andy hunched down a little lower, "He's a Junior and a real skuzzbag. Keeps a list of girls he wants to screw. If they aren't good in bed or willing to bend over backward for him he ditches 'em and moves on to the next. He's a real piece of work. He's the type you'd love to fuck with, Bender." And the tone in which Andy said that implied Bender would, in fact, want to kill him. 

"Yeah, sounds like a real good guy." Bender offered as he glanced at Claire who looked pale, the hand in his pocket fisting painfully tight. Something in his chest was growling, his eyes suddenly scanning the cafeteria for a face he didn’t know, already wanting to find the fucker and rip his little list...and face...in half. 

"It's not going to happen. I'd rather die." She murmured. 

"Want me to murder him?" Allison asked. 

Claire smiled softly and shook her head, "Maybe next time." 

"You're dad picking you up tonight?" Andy asked. 

"No. I was going to get a ride home with Becca but-" 

"I’ll give you a ride, you too Bender. Practice got canceled because the coach has Shingles.” 

“Thanks,” Claire said with a nod. 

"Brian?" Andy asked and the blonde boy sighed, "Wish I could, I got physics club." 

Andy nodded and added as he looked back to Claire, “Just be careful. I’ve heard some things. Brant gets you alone, he can be pretty persistent." And Andy's eyes flicked to John who met his gaze with a hard stare, his jaw clenching, and eyes narrow. 

"What about you? Have you been reamed?" She asked, decidedly ready to change the subject.  

"Not yet. But it's coming. Stubby's been giving me the eye all day. Probably during gym." 

"Good luck," Claire whispered. 

"Thanks but I don't need it. This is a choice, let 'em talk. I'd rather be with your guys." Andy admitted. 

"Well look who grew some balls. A regular Superman." And John gave Andy an approving smile and the kid smiled back, "Yeah, well, it just occurred to me I don't have time for their shit." 

"If only we were all so lucky." And John glanced at Claire, watching her steadily, the girl gazing at Andy with a hint of envy. 

At the end of the day, John still felt relatively light-headed. He’d actually gone to every class, something that killed his messed up leg due to all the sitting but something that was nearly unheard of. Allison, Brian, and Andy were in three of his classes and it almost made it worth it to go. 

He’d eaten lunch today and felt full for the first time in days. He had skipped the beginning of his last class to have a smoke and then partnered with Brian (who looked a little scared, shocked, and anxious at his sudden approach) for the whole science project thing they were doing. Bender seriously doubted Brian would be as accommodating as Allison in regards to doing all the work.

He was on his way to Claire’s locker for their planned rendezvous when he stopped suddenly at the sight of a guy talking to her. His eyes scanned her quickly, she was tense, her combination lock dangling from her fingers as if ready to swing. The guy was talking quickly and moved a little closer in an attempt to pin Claire between himself and the locker, mimicking John’s earlier stance and placing a hand next to her head as he leered down at her. 

He said something and Claire shook her head, “No thanks.” she mouthed and John felt annoyance bloom in his chest. Apparently, his chest was full of emotions today. 

He strode over, his demeanor casual as he shoved the guy aside, “Hey moron, don’t you know, the ladies' room is at the other end of the hall.” He placed his arm over Claire’s shoulder and winked at her. 

Claire smiled, letting out an uneasy breath before looking at the guy. John eyed him, with fancy black hair, cold eyes, posh clothes, and a watch worth more than John’s life. He had a very predatory air about him, though John finally recognized him. 

John should have been in this kid's class as a Junior. While Andy, Claire, Brian, and Allison were all sixteen John and this kid were seventeen. John started High School a year behind due to attendance issues in Junior High. Mostly due to the fact he was usually black and blue and his dad didn't want him going to school where people might notice. Neither of them had ever talked before but John did recognize him.

“So you're John Bender, a little big for a Sophomore.” the kid said calmly, straightening his clothes and glancing between the two, "Held back? Couldn't make the grades?" 

“Easier to be lazy. What the fuck do you want?” John asked in a rather sharp tone.  

“I was speaking with Claire, or can she no longer speak for herself? ” and the guy popped a brow as he looked at her. John’s fists curled and his stomach churned with anger. This guy reminded him of his dad, having a calm before the storm demeanor that sent red flags blazing in his mind. He gave off the aura of being entitled to everyone and everything, he didn’t seem the type to take no for an answer either. Big surprise, another spoiled brat some rich assholes spawned into the world.  

Claire sighed and stepped out from under John’s arm, “Thanks for the invite to the party. But I have plans next Saturday. Wish I could go.” 

The guy visibly relaxed and shrugged, “Sure, whatever, just figured I’d invite you. Word of advice, drop the burnout, he’s only going to hold you back.” 

John moved forward instantly, “Keep talking fuck head-” but a pair of small hands on his chest stopped him and he looked down, Claire’s face giving a sharp warning, “Please….please-” she whispered quickly. John stared at her a moment longer before his fist dropped and she turned back to Brant. The pair made eye contact and he scoffed, “I’ll see you later.” 

As soon as he turned the corner Claire swore, “I’m sorry I stopped you. But if you had hit him he would have sued you...maybe even got you kicked out of school...and I...I don’t want you to be that far away from me…” she trailed off, John’s anger fading considerably at her words, realizing that while John could give two farts to the wind if the guy sued him (He had no money anyway and nothing of merit that he owned) if he got kicked out of school they would be separated and Claire would suddenly become available to every guy in there, Brant Hill included. 

“It’s...fine.” John managed out, shocked to realize it actually was. He had expected to be mad at her for stopping him but suddenly it seemed like the better of the two options. 

John leaned against the locker and crossed his arms, “So...that was Brant Hill? Old Branty boy. Fuck face is more like it. The guy smelled like an entitled dipshit.” 

Claire nodded and John’s stomach twisted but he played it off, finally putting a face to the name, “What did he want?” 

“Just what he said, to invite me to his party this weekend. No way in hell I’d go.” Claire was busy exchanging books and pulling out her purse, not looking at him as she grabbed her coat and gloves. 

“Why not?” he asked, very glad she wasn’t going but curious to find out more about fuck face. 

Claire shrugged, “Cause.” 

John did not like that sluff off. She was avoiding answering him, something that annoyed him and worried him as well, “Because why?” 

“Because I don’t want to go, alright?” and her voice raised a little as she finally looked at him and closed her locker. John felt anger jump in his brain but calmed a split second later when Claire continued without him having to prompt her, “You heard what Andy said about him at lunch. He’s a creep and he...he hurt my friend. A friend. A girl I knew. Needless to say, I don’t want to go to any party he and his creepo friends throw...they...they have issues with respecting women.” 

She locked her locker, her hands playing with it for a moment before she turned and put her forehead into his chest. She was seeking comfort and John found he enjoyed the idea of being comforting to someone. His arms came up to wrap around her as he continued to lean against the locker, taking some secret joy in her feeling comforted by his destructive hands.  

“I can’t believe this is happening to me.” she whispered and John pressed his lips to the top of her head as he murmured, “Ya know if you don’t want those bozos trying to control you, don’t let them.” 

Claire shook her head and instantly pulled away, John subtly reaching for her though he stopped himself as she turned, “It’s not that easy. Everyone has expectations...and...you can’t just ignore them. And you can’t step out of your box because if you do they attack...and you end up like Sarah…god I hate this...” Claire trailed off and John studied her back, realizing at this moment so much more about Clarie’s fears. 

It wasn’t so hard to put two and two together. Brant Hill had drugged this Sarah girl at a party when she wouldn’t sleep with him and took advantage of her. He knocked her up and Sarah had to transfer schools. It was a horrible scenario to think about, and the fact that none of the kids had reported what actually happened was really messed up. But that was apparently the type of thing Claire feared happening to her. In her mind, she needed to stay above it all and she had to do it very carefully. There was a lot more going on inside of Claire’s head than he thought. 

Not to say John thought she was dumb, she was damn smart from what he could tell. But it was the idea that he doubted she ever really stopped to look outside of herself until now, to see the world she was in, to look inside and explore her soul prior to Saturday. Finally seeing past the haze of her own petty existence was most likely a shock and a bit overwhelming. Not to mention, playing blind to what happened to her friend was probably pretty hard to live with. The guilt had to be absolutely crushing. 

The mini monologue she just delivered gave him a taste of her true feelings on the matter. It wasn’t just peer pressure she was facing but the repercussions of turning on a system that had a rather dark and wicked side to it. John could tell you the horrors of the world he came from, the life he lived, and comparatively, if you really thought about it, Claire’s was just as bad. Both of their worlds seemed to lack true empathy or safety. John knew very clearly how unsafe he was in his home and on the streets he roamed at night as well as some of the older people he hung out with outside of school. But Claire’s world, while wrapped in luxury and wealth, was just as dangerous, and the worst part about her life was it was designed to make you feel safe right up until you weren’t and it was too late to jump ship. 

Eventually, John mused, when Claire was older, she would be expected to marry someone of equal status and the people in her life assumed it wouldn’t matter whether Claire loved them or not because, in the end, the money would be enough to buy herself happiness. 

“God it’s like you broke my brain.” Claire suddenly said, looking up at him and John was pulled from his thoughts to stare at her. 

“I didn’t do anything,” he said defensively, not liking being blamed for something he didn’t do.

She finally turned back to him, slowly walking back over to lean on the locker neck to him, John slowly rolling to rest on a shoulder as he crossed his arms and looked at her sharply, “You know, before Saturday I was happy with my life...well...not happy...but...I could ignore the dissatisfaction. I could ignore a lot of things.” 

“And now?” John asked, watching her intensely, trying to understand how any of this could be blamed on him. He’d done nothing but be himself, letting his words speak the truth and while he didn’t always go about it in the nicest way, he didn’t lie and he didn’t try to hide the truths he saw. 

“I just want it all to stop. And I want to live for myself...not like I did before...I want purpose. And...I don’t… I don’t want to be an object anymore, I don’t want to be the person things happen to, I want control over what happens to me.” 

John scoffed and glanced away, running his tongue over his teeth in thought before he said softly, “Then take control. And if they don't like it, knock 'em the fuck out.” 

He felt her fingers on his cheek, however, John was determined not to meet her gaze, he didn’t like being blamed for her problems. Yet, a thumb slid across his bottom lip and his face turned back to her quickly, the pad of her thumb so compelling he couldn’t stop himself. His hard eyes met hers only to see the upset fading from her face as she slowly nodded and after a moment leaned in, giving John a slow kiss before pressing into him and wrapping her arms around him. 

There was something inside of him that moved a little, a small shift of something he didn't recognize. Claire had made it through the day, seeing that the world wouldn't end if she tried to refuse the role people had given her. 

Maybe it was pride, maybe it was some twisted sense of satisfaction, but twice now she had initiated hugs with him, no shame or embarrassment for doing so. She had looked happy to see him and had tried to defend him to her friend. Despite how tired John was and how not in the mood he was to be his usual vibrant self he couldn't help giving a groan into her mouth. 

He suddenly moved, his hands coming to her lower back to pull her against him as he pressed her to the lockers and kissed her back. His brain was shooting electrical currents through him, desire pumping and a need building. He loved when she touched him and he loved how she wasn’t trying to pull away. Claire was more badass than he thought because he had expected today to be like pulling teeth from a mule, but Claire had bent so easily and now she seemed so willing to kiss him John thought the rest of the week was going to be a breeze. 

He gave a cocky smile but he pulled back just enough for them to catch their breath, "Don't spoil me all at once, I want something to look forward to later this week." 

Claire rolled her eyes but smiled, “You pig.” she whispered affectionately and John’s hands tightened on her, his jaw clenching.

 “You tease.” he parroted and Claire gave an amused hum before she kissed him softly, their bodies flooding with the hormones of youthfulness.  

He pulled back to nestle his face into the side of her head, “Wanna bend you over a desk, Cherry-” he murmured into her ear softly and Claire gave a soft gasp before she whispered, “Don’t be gross-” but John could hear a hesitant lust in her voice and he wondered what other dirty things he could say to get her hot. 

However, a cold bucket of water was tossed on them both when someone called her name, "Oh god. Freaking Becca." Claire sighed, the blonde girl heading straight for her with two of Claire's other friends in tow. 

John growled with annoyance before he decided that being on Becca’s black list would be worth it and so, despite his fatigue and the ever-present pain he pulled out his best snark, "Back ye small-breasted sirens of hell!" John suddenly barked, making a grandiose gesture with his middle finger as if it was a sword.

"John, what the-" Claire started only for him to announce boldly in a quasi-Shakespearean voice, “Thou shall not have this fair maiden, her virtue is mine to steal you Harpies!” and he grabbed her hand and took off, yanking Claire past loitering students, Claire trying to keep up as she giggled and laughed. 

Becca called after her in shock but didn't pursue and as they busted through the front doors and descended the steps they were looking for Andy, the kid having offered them a ride home that John was determined to take. 

Anything to keep them away from you, Sweets. I got you for a week, which means I don’t have to share. Becca will just have to spew venom at someone else for a change. 

As they headed to the parking lot John slowed to a walk, Claire still laughing as she watched him light a cigarette, the girl seeming far too interested in his actions. 

John noticed her rather amused gaze and asked, "What's up, Sweets? Looking for another kiss?" and Claire smiled, "As if. You just got one. I don’t have to kiss you anymore for the rest of the day if I don’t want to.” 

John stopped, giving Claire’s arm a soft jerk of a pull which brought her in front of him, "Yeah? Says who?” he asked with annoyance. 

“The agreement was one before school and one after school. We never agreed on more than that.” he could see the mischievous look in her eye, she was baiting him to see what he would do and John found a rather perverse pleasure in her being so coy and cocky about it. 

His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush to him as he said, “And if I want another one? You gonna stop me?” 

“Would you listen if I told you no?” and her eyes jumped from his own down to his lips and back, her teeth biting her bottom lip as she placed a hand to his chest and waited. 

He leaned down slowly, Claire's breath catching in her throat as John nodded his head yes but whispered a soft, “No.” and her eyes closed in anticipation as he pressed a kiss to her mouth. It was a little more chaste than the hallway and John grunted in annoyance, his cigarette-free hand coming to cup the back of her head as he stepped closed and opened his mouth. 

She reciprocated and he felt his stomach drop as arousal flared. He tossed his half-smoked cigarette and quickly wrapped his arms around her, pulling Claire more tightly against him as he hungrily lapped into her mouth. 

A giggle and pleased hum came from their left and the pair stopped and slowly turned their heads, Allison and Andy standing there watching with looks of awkwardness and amusement. 

"Why don't you buy some fucking tickets, Sporto. Jesus, you stupid or something?" John barked and Andy rolled his eyes, "You're in a parking lot, dickhead, hardly the place or time to cop a feel." 

"Says you." John sneered and Claire stepped away from him as she looked down and smiled, blushing innocently as she glanced at Allison who heaved a sigh and stomped over to her, tucking her arm into Claire's as they both started to giggle and head towards Andy's truck. 

The boys watched them go and John asked, "You think we could ever get them to make out in front of us?" 

Andy considered that for only a second before he smacked his hand against John's chest, "Fuck off, Bender." 

"No joke, with a few glasses of wine-" 

"I said fuck off." Andy said, "There is too much of that type of bullshit going around for me to find it funny, even as a joke." 

John and Andy started walking, following the girls at a distance and John pulled out another cigarette, "Hey, Jockstrap, you ever heard the term 'Old money'?" 

Andy glanced at him, "Yeah. What about it?" 

"I heard the princess talking to bitch face Becca. She called Branty boy old money, like Claire. Is that a class thing or whatever the fuck?" 

Andy nodded, "Yeah. It usually means their family had money back when people were still riding horses, I mean, a long line of good business decisions and smart family marriages." 

John scoffed, "Fucking figures." 

"Why, what's up?" 

"Brant Hill is what's up. Bitch face Becca told the princess that fuck head Brant wants his old man to talk to her old man about Claire. Sounded like a sort of twisted arranged marriage or some shit. Just needed some clarification on what it might mean for her if her old man agrees." 

Andy thought about that as they neared his truck, the athlete stopping as he grabbed Bender's shoulder, "Hey, uhm, look, man...I know you don't like people prying into your business. But, I know you like her. At least more than just a fuck." 

"Hardly." John scoffed but Andy called his bullshit quickly and said, "Sure, right. So you care enough to question what's going on with her is just for show, right? Well, even so, a friendly word of advice, keep Brant Hill away from her, and don't let Claire get bogged down by this shit. Her pressures are different from ours, but she's obviously not immune to them. If her old man decides he wants her to consider Brant Hill, he can make sure she does." 

John rolled his eyes, "Fuck man-" John breathed out as smoke furled around his head, "What's he gonna do? Take her money away? She already said she'd rather die. And anyway, once she's eighteen she'd be gone before he could do anything." 

"Yeah, but that's two years between now and then. I wouldn't put it past the bastard to think it'd be a good idea to give Brant the opportunity to win her over. Claire can refuse him, and her dad might eventually cave, but...between then and now...Brant will have a lot of opportunities to get what he wants...even if it's just a fuck and run. It's a shit show, man. And you don't have the best track record, you're the enemy, and Claire is his daughter." 

"So?" John bit angrily, his annoyance and dread rising at Andy both called him out and gave warning. 

"So what would you do if you had a daughter and she brought a guy like you home?" 

John stared at him, flicking the ash off his cigarette as he felt a sort of twisted anger claw at his chest. He wasn't mad at Andy, the guy had a fucking point, but John had never forced himself on a girl, had never even hit a girl. He wasn't as abusive and abrasive as he seemed and honestly he'd rather be kissing a girl than knocking her around. 

But his appearance and demeanor were hardly conducive to getting any approval from Claire’s old man, rich or poor. Not that he cared, it was just another stereotype stacked against him that he didn't care to fight. 

"Whatever man. It doesn't matter. I only got one week with her. Just enough to make daddy nervous. After that, she'll run back to her perfect little world and I'll fall back into mine. It's not my problem." And he said it rather coldly because it was easier to stay detached than it was to hope. 

He could want Claire more than any other woman on the fucking planet and bend over backward to prove his worth, but in the end, it wouldn't make a fucking difference and he was tired of getting his hopes up. 

"Allison told me what you and Claire have going on. Sounds a bit fucked if you ask me." 

"Yeah? Well, what the fuck do you know? It isn't like Smiles is hard up for offers. She's a fucking peach and you're the first guy to show her any affection. She's easy." 

"Don't be a dick, Bender. You know damn well Allison wouldn't go with the first guy that smiles at her." 

"Do I know that?" John mused, "and anyway, even if it is fucked it isn't like I'm gonna get more than a few kisses. Fuckin' cherries don't lay down that easy and unlike Branty boy I'm not in the habit of making them." 

"That's good. Cause if you did I'd beat the shit out of you." Andy snapped. 

John looked at him and smirked, "I'd expect you to, Sporto." 

The boys chuckled a little before they were pulled from their conversation by a call, "Come on guys! It's cold!" 

They spied Allison and Claire huddled together outside Andy's truck and they started walking, "You gonna do it?" John asked and Andy grunted, "Fuck off, seriously, man." 

They all climbed into the truck, Andy and Allison in front and John and Claire in back. As Andy pulled out of the school John saw out the window a group of guys talking, Becca and the other two girls were with them, Brant Hall leaning against the car as he listened to the blonde girl talk, her face looking apologetic. His head turned as Andy's truck backfired and glared at him when their eyes met.

Figures. Becca wasn’t gonna give Claire a ride, you were, right fuck face? Over my dead body skeez. 

They passed close by and John delivered a middle finger to Brant who didn’t really react and then John settled down and told Andy to put on some music, lord knew if he didn’t have something else to focus on he’d stew about Brant for the next few hours. 

It was Claire who slipped her hand into John's as Andy asked for directions to her house. John glanced at her and Claire gave him a cheeky wink which made him smirk. The anger and frustration died a little and John continued to look out the window, feeling her soft warm hand in his and ignoring how it made his heart flutter. 

Chapter Text

The ride was about fifteen minutes, the four chatting about school and homework, John keeping mostly silent because he never did his homework anyway. He looked out the window and as they left middle-class suburbia behind and entered into the saturated wealth of the upper-class neighborhoods, he watched how the houses shifted and changed from medium and modest to massive and gaudy. 

"Jesus, this place is the ritz." Andy mused as he looked around at the houses, wide apart and gleaming in the hazy afternoon light. 

"Take a left." Claire said and Andy turned onto Werner court, swaths of trees wrapping around and intermingling with the neighborhood and the yards. 

Each house had sprawling perfectly trimmed yards, manicured to such a degree it looked like a staged set. Every house was painted in whites and beiges, with decorative lights and clean driveways, and a gleaming white mailbox at the edge of each yard. 

"Welcome to the Twilight Zone," Allison said as she looked around lazily. 

"More like snob hill." Bender scoffed and he felt Claire's hand tighten in his and he glanced at her, the girl meeting his eye and sticking her tongue out at him. John smirked. 

"The house at the end of the street, with the three garages." 

"Seriously, this is surreal. I feel like I'm going to be arrested just for driving on the road." Andy quipped. 

“Hardly. It’s just like any other neighborhood. Besides, just because it looks nice doesn’t mean it is.” Claire said as she looked at her nails in disinterest.  

"Oh come on Claire, like this is fucking normal to any of us.” Andy admitted, “My dad owns his own business and we could never afford anything like this.” 

“My dad sells real estate, and we live in a one-story ranch house.” Allison offered, never wanting to be left out of the conversation. 

“What does your dad do?” Claire asked and John scoffed, “He owns a business too. Wouldn’t know it from the look of the house though. Spends most of his money on booze and girls younger than my mom. Not that she cares. Less he’s around the better for her and me.”

“What’s his business?” Allison asked and John leaned back and looked out the window, a sort of detached gaze in his eyes, “Who cares.” 

Andy pulled up the long driveway and stopped near the garages, “My dad owns the fish and game store in town. Clark's Fish and Game, and you don't have to tell me how obvious the name is, I already know, Bender."

Allison looked at him for a moment, “Really?” 

“Yeah. Why? Have you been inside?” 

Allison nodded, “Yeah, I stole something.” 

Andy looked at her, the stunned silence of the car obvious as he stared, a rueful smile spreading across John’s mouth as he waited to see Jockstrap’s reply. 

“You shoplifted at my dad’s store?” Allison gave a slow nod as Andy frowned, “Better be careful, my old man ever catches you, you're toast.” 

Allison giggled, “I already got rid of the evidence.” 

“Where is it?” Andy asked. 

“In John’s stomach.” and Allison’s dark eyes flicked to John who looked confused before Allison said, “I wanted peanut butter, but accidentally grabbed almond.” 

Claire’s hand jumped to her mouth to hide her smile as Andy looked at Bender before he started to laugh, “Fuckin’ A, Smiles.” Bender snorted and the four laughed lightly as Claire grabbed up her bag and purse.

Claire opened her door, "Thanks for the ride, Andy. See you tomorrow." And there was silence as she glanced at John who stared back, "You want to come in for a bit. Maybe hang out...watch a movie?" And her voice was so timid, a shyness that was new and John debated for a moment. 

She was asking him to come in but he really didn't want to deal with her parents' condescension, "I don't think daddy would appreciate the visit." John said sarcastically, every bit of him wanting to follow her in but his ass staying planted in the seat.  

"Oh...well-" and Claire glanced at Allison who gave a subtle nod of her head, "Uhm...moms...moms gone for a week at the spa….and dad...is in New York until Wednesday." 

John's head snapped to look at her, eyes wide as he realized that she was inviting him in while her parents weren't home. That was a level of trust he wasn't sure she should bestow on him and definitely not a level of trust he had earned.

The silence stretched as he looked at her, trying to discern her intentions, "I have frozen pizza...chicken fingers, a crap ton of movies. We could watch one, maybe talk?" 

John made his decision then and reached for the door handle, patting Andy's shoulder resolutely, "If I don't see you tomorrow it's 'cause I died and went to heaven." 

"Whatever man, don't be a douche- '' and as John slammed the door Andy said out the window, "Respect her boundaries, shit head. Or I'll make you eat my fist." 

John leaned forward and honked Andy's nose, "Tough guy, so sexy. See ya later Smiles." And Allison waved. 

"See ya later, Sporto." John called and Andy backed out of the driveway slowly, John giving him a playful middle finger which Andy returned as Claire took his other hand and guided him towards the house. 

She entered a number in the keypad by the garage door and they stepped in as it opened. John whistled at the sight of a brand new red convertible Mustang and a Bently. 

"Whose rides. Let me guess, mommy dearest drives the 'Stang and daddy parades around in the Bently." 

Claire blushed and rubbed at her arm, "The mustang is mine. A sweet sixteen gift from my dad." And she kept walking, not stopping to give him a chance to comment. 

John followed, biting back his sudden desire to ask her to let him drive it. He wouldn't beg, but if she offered…

"Aren't we special, brand new car for your birthday!" John teased and Claire groaned, "Enough, I know, I'm a spoiled rich brat who has everything! You don't have to rub it in my face." Claire bit as she hit the button to lower the garage door and then opened the door leading inside. 

"Why not, it's fun to see you squirm, and anyway, I was just going to offer some advice. When you take her out make sure to open her up and ride her hard." And John made an obscene gesture with his fingers and tongue and Claire rolled her eyes. 

" Yuck ." She said as John followed her into the kitchen. He stopped as he was greeted by the trappings of wealth, his mind trying to take in how clean and spotless everything was, how there was an overabundance of everything. 

The house smelled clean too, with not a crumb on the floor or a chair out of place. The island in the center was bigger than his bed and the cabinets were a soft cream which seemed to flow perfectly with the darker wood throughout. 

“You hungry? I’m starving. I didn’t eat lunch, want a frozen pizza or something?” Claire had plopped her bags down on the counter, removing her coat and gloves and laying them nearby and John realized her voice echoed a little in the space. 

The kitchen was big, not cut off from the rest of the house either as through a large arched doorway he saw a casual eating area and beyond that a massive living room. And while the entire space was filled with anything a person might need, he couldn’t help but notice how cold and unlived in it all felt. 

His insides squirmed a little, feeling like his presence in the house might somehow make it start to wilt and decay. Images of his own house, worn and tired, too lived in, too broken and then slapped back together, danced before his mind's eye. 

He was woefully out of his comfort zone and while he felt incredibly insignificant he also felt a little bit of jealousy and envy swirl in his chest. 

“No,” John said in a rather annoyed tone, his hands shoving into the pockets of his coat as he really didn’t want to touch anything and risk breaking it. 

She glanced at him, noticing his derision but moving past it anyway, “Okay, well I’m going to make something. I’m starving.” and she opened the freezer, pulling out a pizza before shutting the door and heading to the stove. 

"Mom would have a cow if she saw me eating this many carbs, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her," Claire said with a smile as she removed the plastic and set the oven to preheat. 

"Your mom is a real weight watcher, huh?" John asked, continuing to look around, popping his head through a doorway leading off towards what looked to be the foyer. 

“Yeah, drives me nuts. Seriously, it's like eating a candy bar will cause brain damage. She's such a spaz." 

"Your mom fat?" John asked casually and Claire scoffed, "As if. I swear she lives off salads and Ambian." 

John looked at her as Claire turned and leaned against the counter, arms crossed and John nodded, "Yeah. Mine too. Well...the Ambian part anyway." 

There was an understanding that passed between them then, a realization that neither of their moms would be a candidate for mother of the year.

"Yeah." Claire mused softly, looking away. 

"You got a butler? Any of them sexy french maid types?" John asked as he pulled open a drawer nearby and noticed it was what most people labeled a "junk drawer." 

Apparently, even rich people need one. Guess they are human after all. 

"Not really. Mom has a cleaning company come twice a month to do most of the regular stuff. Change sheets, dust, and vacuum. I usually do the rest. Dad will hire a wait staff if they have one of their stupid business parties and hire people to clean up after but...it's mostly just...us." 

"So you do clean then. Not totally pampered." John offered as he slid the junk drawer shut and turned to look at her. 

Claire rolled her eyes, "Yeah, I do my own laundry and everything." And her tone was annoyed, as her arms tightened across her chest. 

"I'm not a total wash, ya know. I can do stuff, look, I'm making a pizza without anyone helping me. Oh God, I touched the greasy button on the stove, I'll have to cut my finger off and get a transplant." And Claire smiled wickedly at him and John smiled back. 

"You can take your coat off if you want.” Claire offered softly, turning back to wipe the pieces of frozen cheese that had come off with the plastic into her hand before crossing to the garbage. 

John debated, he wanted to get comfortable but he really wasn't. He felt like at any moment he might have to bolt. Claire said her parents were gone, but the last thing he wanted was to get caught here and have to leave his shit behind in a mad dash for the exit.

“Don’t think so Sweets. Wouldn’t want to dirty up the place.” John teased and Claire turned to look at him with suspicious eyes.

"You know..the other day...when we were in the closet at school-" and John's heart seized a little. The closet had been something else entirely. Something with enough heat and tension to pop the top off a champagne bottle. 

He'd played it over many times in his mind, but figured they'd never mention it again. They had exposed themselves at that moment, tentatively feeling out desires and possibilities they both had but were hard-pressed to admit.

Nothing since that moment in the closet had been as sharp or tense. The closet would forever ring in his mind as the moment he saw a real honest-to-god part of who she actually was. Since then, she hadn't really opened back up to him and so neither had he to her, something that irked him profusely. 

"When I said my parents would call the cops...they wouldn't actually do it. Probably just ask you to leave. Give me an earful. Have to maintain appearances after all. But usually if they are gonna come home early they call me so...you don’t need to feel-” 

“Don’t tell me how to feel, Claire.” and he snapped it out at her, his eyes closing and jaw clenching as he looked away. 

Shit shit shit, why are you suddenly angry? What the hell is wrong with you? She hasn’t done anything wrong! Don’t be a dick! 

A small bout of panic ignited in his chest as he realized he was too on edge now to calm down. Since he had walked in he had felt out of place and his envy had been simmering slowly in his belly. 

The house was so big and empty, filled with everything but having no heart or soul inside. It reminded him of Claire, when he had first started talking to her on Saturday. A presentation of wealth and the good life, without any depth or meaning to it. He knew her now, knew she really wasn’t like that. But it was suddenly very hard to believe this week he was about to spend with her was anything more than what they had planned. A way to get back at her parents, the people who leave her alone in a massive house where it echoes and feels so loveless. 

He’d told himself he was going to stay grounded, that he didn’t care that she was using him if it meant he could spend a week so close to her, but suddenly the ends didn’t justify the means and his stomach started to hurt, “I shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have asked me in.” 

He needed to leave now because if he didn't his panic would make him lash out. It always did. He'd say something mean, cruel or stupid. He'd make her feel as small as he felt, as worthless and pathetic just so he alone didn't have to feel as bad. 

“What? What do you mean?” Claire asked as a confused laugh tumbled from her nervous mouth. 

If he left now, he might be able to stop from shooting himself in the foot. They could still spend the week together. 

“I think I should head home.” and John turned, leaving the kitchen and heading back towards the garage door. 

“John, wait, where are you going?” as his hand grabbed the knob, arms wrapped around him from behind and he froze, “Please don’t leave! I know...I know you’re uncomfortable but-” 

“I don’t belong here, Cherry. This place reeks of corporate wealth and I don’t much care for the smell." He had to go now or else the next thing out of his mouth would be something wicked. 

The arms around him dropped away and he closed his eyes as realized he wished they hadn’t, “How is that my fault? I didn’t choose to live here!” 

She had a good point, and John’s anger deflated a little. She didn’t choose to live here just like John hadn’t chosen to live in the broken matchbox his dad called a house. They were both born into the lives they had with no say at all about what they received. 

Yet, even if her life was just as fucked as his, at least she could sleep at night without having to lock her bedroom door. At least her heart didn't feel like it might give out at any moment if she didn't watch what she said or keep her head down. 

He turned to look at her, her face angry and red, his mouth opened before he could stop himself, “Bet you’re really upset about that too, huh? Being born into such lavish comforts . Everything you could possibly want with no fucking effort at all. Fucking new car for your birthday, a fridge full of food, a god damn tiara on your head!” 

“Just because your life sucks doesn’t give you the right to dig at mine!” 

“Yeah? Well, fuck you!” John yelled and he watched as Claire let out an angry blast of air and turned away from him, walking back into the kitchen, “Asshole!” she yelled. 

John sneered, “What the fuck ever.” he grabbed the handle one more time, set on walking out and getting as far away from here as humanly possible only to stop when he heard a soft sniffle. 

His forehead pressed to the door and his anger lessened a little more as he heard Claire softly crying, a slow swallow followed as something in his chest twisted. 

Flashes came to his mind, yelling he wishes he could drown out. Memories he didn't want to relieve but that played in the back of his mind daily.

Miles, please…stop!

Shut up bitch! I'll do what I fucking want and you'll stay the hell out of it!  Why don't you just go take your fuckin' pills and leave me the fuck alone! Johnny! Get your ass out here now! 

Miles, calm down- 

I said, fuck off bitch! Johnny, you got five seconds or I'm coming in after you, ya little shit!

“Fucking hell,” he whispered. Normally he wouldn’t have an issue cutting someone down and walking away. It was what he was best at, a defense he had honed and streamlined over his seventeen years of life. He'd picked it up from his parents, they were the masters of cutting people down like God damn shrubs. 

He had tried to leave before the damage could be done, tried to leave before he exploded on Claire like his dad did to his mom, but it was too late. He still didn't feel like he should be here, but given he's just ripped into her again what was the point of running now? 

If he did he might lose the rest of the week. As he heard Claire continue to cry his hand dropped from the doorknob and he turned back towards the kitchen, moving down the short hall to find Claire at the sink, leaning over it and wiping at her eyes. 

Another memory popped into his mind, his mother sobbing on the kitchen floor, hands shaking as she wiped at her eyes and tried to stay quiet. 

Fuck me, I have to fix this, I don't want to be like that ass hole and Claire didn't deserve any of that…god…

He debated, watching as she continued to give light shakes and swear softly. He should apologize, and try to explain why he was such an asshole. 

But his damage couldn't be summed up in just the explanation that his old man was a douchebag. Slowly, John crossed the space, coming to stand behind her as his mouth came near her shoulder, “If you’re hungry, just make the fucking pizza, you don’t have to cry about it.” she’d jumped a little when he spoke, not realizing he was still in the house. 

She gave a soft laugh before she wiped at her eyes and said softly, “I didn’t ask for the car, daddy just gave it to me. Half the time I never ask for any of the stuff they give me. I was excited, I won’t lie, but then I realized he only gave it to me because mom wanted to give me a Porsche.” 

“Poor baby.” John said, his tone more playful and less resentful and Claire gave a soft huff, “You don’t get it, do you? If she hadn’t wanted to get me a car dad wouldn’t have either. And what good is a gift if the only meaning behind it is to hurt someone else? I’ve had that car for two months, and I’ve never driven it once, just to spite them, both of them. I’d rather get a box of rocks given with love, than a stupid car because they are trying to one-up each other.” 

John mused on that a moment, considering her words as she stood between him and the sink, her face looking out the window as she let out a soft sigh, “You see me with everything, but you and I both know I have less than any of you. What good is a house this big if it’s always empty and what good is all this stuff if it means nothing to me? I have things, John. But they don’t have meaning.” 

He tentatively wrapped his arms around her and pressed his mouth into her neck, inhaling her scent as the last of his anger settled, “I’m...sorry.” he whispered and he felt Claire stiffen, a sort of shocked surprise from his sudden apology, "Did you just...apologize?” 

“Don’t be stupid. You know I need to.” John offered, placing a soft kiss on her silky skin and she leaned backward, pressing into his front and whispering, “Do that again.” 

John complied, kissing longer before sucking gently and he felt her shiver, a pool of arousal glowing gently in his stomach.

All alone with her, and I nearly walked out, fuck my stupid pride, this is an oppertunity...no way in hell I should be so god damned stupid…

“Want me to lick it and make it better.” John teased. 

“Pig.” Claire said with a saturated smile in her voice. 

John finally turned her around, pressing her to the counter as he gave a soft kiss on her jaw and whispered in her ear, "I'm only a pig if what I said didn't get you hot." 

Claire met his gaze, "Then you're definitely a pig." And John gave an amused chuckled, "Oh really, princess, so nothing I do gets you hot? Not even a kiss on that dainty little neck of yours." And he brushed his lips along her neck, inhaling sharply as he did and giving her a gentle squeeze as he pressed his front more firmly to her. 

"John…" She breathed nervously as her hands came to his chest, "Mmm, you taste good princess." And he couldn't stop himself from running a tongue along her shoulder. 

She moaned softly, her head shifting a little to expose more of her neck and John sucked gently on the exposed skin. 

A hand dragged down her back to grope her ass and Claire jerked, "Easy Cherry. I haven't even done anything yet." 

"I need to make the pizza.” she breathed out and John chuckled, “Sure, but what do you want to do while we wait for it to finish?” 

Claire hesitated, not so much in fear but in thought, “I honestly don’t know...I've never had a guy over before when mom and dad aren't home.” and the nervous laugh that came told John she had never done anything like this before, “I have some ideas.” John said as he squeezed her ass again and looked at her with a rather obvious smirk. 

“I...I don’t know if I’m ready for-” John kissed her, cutting her off as her lips were just a shade too tempting at the moment, his teenage brain wanting to press into deeper waters despite his knowing very fucking well Claire wasn’t about to lay down for him. 

“I wasn’t thinking bout that, Princess...but I’d sure like to see that pretty sweater on the floor...see if your bra matches your panties.” and his hands slid up from her ass to her hips before gliding just under the edge of her sweater, fingers ghosting over soft warm skin and he felt his dick twitch sharply. 

“Mmm...maybe...the shirt stays on and your hands can just-” 

John sank back down, his mouth kissing at her neck again as he whispered, “Under the shirt, over the bra...lips swollen and such pretty little moans coming from between those pouty lips of yours-” 

“Mmhmm.” Claire managed, her hands pressing up over John’s shoulders before running up through his hair and John shuddered, “Don’t tempt me princess. It’s rare I’m such a gentleman-” she ran her nails gently across his scalp and John felt electricity run from his toes all the way up to his head, leaving goosebumps in its wake and his hips gave a sharp thrust against her. 

Claire gasped, officially aware John had a boner but he was less than concerned about that, “Did I do that?” Claire asked as her cheeks grew red and John snorted, “No, I was thinking of Jockstrap.” Claire smiled up at his sarcasm. 

Their eyes met, John’s sharp as he studied her and waited to see what she would say about his now blatant attraction to her. After a moment Claire met his gaze, a cool and calm look that John found so compelling, “How about, I put the pizza in...we can go sit on the couch and watch a movie..and...just see what happens?” and her eyes searched for a willingness to slow down but John wasn’t sure he had the discipline to do so. 

However, her hands left his hair to cup his face as she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him gently, pressing hair out of his eyes with one hand and something in John settled again. The burning urgency to move straight into sex cooling as his heartbeat a little faster and she whispered, “I want to slow down...just a little. Please? Just...I don’t want to rush...and we have all week...there’s time.” 

“Is there?” John asked softly, his focus on her soft eyes and warm hands that continued to touch him so gently and an unknown feeling swirled in his chest and stomach as he looked at her and leaned in. 

It was such a simple kiss, no tongue, all lips, but it felt so wonderful and he inhaled through his nose to catch her scent as his hands kneaded gently at her waist, “You know I’m not ready for more. Why ask for it?” Claire offered softly. 

John leaned close, pressing his forehead to hers as he closed his eyes and took her hands in his, “I didn't. But you know I’d love you so good you’d never be able to be with another guy again...cause you’d only be able to think of me...and I like the idea of you thinking of me...only me...because no one else is good enough, sounds pretty great.” This was also something that had come out of his mouth before he could stop it. 

But unlike his anger, this monster of sentences was strung together by desperation he didn’t want to admit he had. There was an urge within himself to be too truthful, and he found it left him feeling humiliated and embarrassed. Two emotions that usually left him angry, but in this moment more than anything he just felt pathetic. 

“I already think about you that way. Ever since Saturday...you’re all I’ve been able to think about.” her soft voice brought him back from his thoughts, her words making his eyes open and they looked at each other, “There’s...something about you...like a bottle of wine that I drank too fast...I just want more...every time I look at you...it feels…” 

“Like you're drunk?” John asked suddenly and Claire nodded, “Like my body is awake for the first time.” she bit her lip, “Like your skin is on fire.” John offered and Claire nodded slowly, the intensity of their gaze a poignant reminder that aside from the lust and desire that kept bubbling between them, there had been something else as well, a latent attraction and curiosity between both of them from the start on Saturday. 

“Do you think it’s weird?” Claire asked softly and John smirked, “Truth?” 

“Truth.” Claire agreed and John shook his head no as he said softly, “Yes.” 

Claire smiled at him before she wrapped her arms around his neck and delivered a warm kiss, “Pizza, movie, and more kisses.” she whispered and John hummed in agreement, “I want to touch your tits.” 

Claire scoffed, “Gross.” and she pulled away from him, not in disgust but so she could put the pizza in the oven which had just beeped after preheating. John came up behind her as she bent over and gently grabbed her hips, Claire jolting up and John wrapping a quick arm around her stomach, “It won’t be gross, it’ll feel good. Let me show you, huh? Just one...you’ll love it.” 

“We’ll see.” Claire whispered, her face now bright red and John kissed her shoulder, “Maybe is better than no. I’ll go check out the living room.” and he let her go, his own body needing to calm down a little as he finally removed his coat and tossed it onto the island next to hers. He put his hands in his pockets and walked through the arched doorway, passing the casual dining area, no doubt this house had a formal dining room somewhere, and he moved into the massive living room. 

He found himself relaxing as he eyed the movies that were in a floor to ceiling bookcase and around the massive tv. Underneath was a VHS player, stereo, and speakers and he imagined this was going to be an epic movie night. 

He threw himself lazily onto the couch stretching out and realizing that for the next few hours he didn't have a care in the world. No fear of his old man coming home, no school or Vernon, no Brant Hill. It was just him and Claire in a massive and empty house. 

He brought his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, savoring the quiet and a feeling of ease that he hadn't felt in a long time. 

Suddenly fatigue ran upon him and he hadn't realized how tired he was. In the silence of the house, on a soft and massive couch that he sank into, his mind fell silent and his body eased out of its tense and anxious cage and shifted into a groggy snooze within minutes. 

His eyes only opened when he heard shuffling and turned his head slightly to see Claire pushing a VHS into the player and grabbing the remote to turn on the TV and entertainment system. 

The movie began to play but he didn't pay much attention, Claire leaving the volume low and walking over to dim the lights. 

"Mm, mood light, huh? Really trying to romance me." John murmured softly. 

"Is it working?" Claire asked and John nodded, "Oh yeah. Actually, I could fall asleep, Sweets. It's silent as the grave in this place." 

"I know." Claire said as she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, "I usually just leave the TV on or play the radio. Otherwise, I'd go insane being stuck here by myself in the quiet." 

John studied her a moment and for once he wondered what would actually be worse, having to listen to his parents constantly fighting and throwing things or being in a house this size with no one around and the silence creeping in constantly. Both seemed equally horrible. It was true that upon entering Claire's house he had acted like a jealous, immature prick but now, while he was beginning to see the perks of hanging out here, he also realized Claire might have simply asked him in for the company. 

"Relaxed?" Claire asked with a giggle. 

"Mmhmm. My old man would belt the fuck out of me if he saw me now. But the fucker has no clue where I am. It's fucking heaven, Cherry." 

A soft smile came to his lips and only faded when he felt Claire grow closer, his eyes cracking open to see her looking down at him with a cute smile, hands cupped before her and he smirked, "You gonna join me, or what?" 

She nodded and though John expected her to take a seat by his head or feet she instead reached out hands and tentatively removed his boots, John watching curiously. 

When she set them aside she glanced at his face before licking her lips slowly and moving to straddle him, her pale pink leggings leaving little to the imagination and John's eyes opened a little wider. 

Claire shifted down a little before coming to press her front to his and rest her head on his chest. She had tucked her arms on either side of him and turned her head to watch the movie. 

John wasn't interested in the movie, and now he was too tired and relaxed to be horny, at least at the moment anyway, so he closed his eyes and stroked his hands gently down her back. 

Minutes ticked by before he slowly pressed his hand up under her sweater, gently stroking fingers lazily along her smooth skin. 

He didn't try to do anything else and Claire eventually relaxed against him fully, a thing which made John feel exceptionally good. Her body was so warm but relatively light, and as she lay flush against him he thought life couldn’t possibly get better than this. 

He wasn’t sure how long the movie lasted, but he did remember dozing off and on through it, waking only when Claire laughed or shifted. It never occurred to him how tired he might be, he was usually so on edge that eight hours of continual sleep was hard to come by. 

She got up at one point to get the pizza out of the oven, bringing in two plates with several pieces on each. She sat next to him and ate hers but John dismissed his share in lew of sleeping some more. She eventually laid back down with him and his arms came to wrap around her. 

He found his half-conscious mind wandering in and out of fantasies that were both less than gentlemanly as well as some that were completely benign. The one he kept coming back to was him and Claire hanging out at his secret spot. 

There was a place he would go just on the outside of town, underneath an old bridge that wasn’t used anymore. He’d set up a temporary camp there and would go whenever home got a little too dangerous. A large stream passed underneath the bridge and John imagined them sitting on the jutting rocks and talking, smoking, and kissing. 

He’d never taken anyone to his secret spot, for a long time it was his only real refuge from his dad. Once he hit high school he’d met a few people, friends he would smoke with that, for a small bag of weed, would let him crash on a couch in their basement or out in their garage. He didn’t go to his secret spot to sleep that often now, but he did check in from time to time to make sure all his stuff was in good condition and no one else had found it and taken it. 

It was important to make sure he had a place he could go when things got really bad, and you couldn’t count on other people to take care of you or help you out. For some reason, his mind kept wandering back to him and Claire under the bridge, as if it would be okay to show her, to share that part of his life with her. 

It was a fantasy, as showing his princess that on occasion he lived under a bridge, would only reinforce how pathetic and poor he was. But there was something so nice about the idea of being able to tell her, to show her his special secret spot. 

When the movie ended Claire went to get up, raising her body away from him and shifting to get up but his hands grabbed her hips and he murmured out a soft, “Stay.” 

His eyes cracked open and he looked up at her, seeing her face in real time after an hour of imagining it and a hand slid up from her hip, coming to gently fist the front of her sweater, he pulled and Claire came, and when her lips met his he gave a soft moan. 

His hand on her hip tightened and his hips gave a very soft thrust against her. The kiss was sweet and tasted like cherry lip gloss and pizza. When she sat back up he followed, his hands holding her hips and trying to get them to move. 

“John-” Claire whispered out against his mouth, “Move ‘em, just like this, babe.” and he showed her how, guiding her and helping her to grind gently against him in a soft rhythmic motion that made John groan. 

His hands pressed up, raising her sweater, and when Claire didn’t tell him to wait or stop he pulled her arms out of the sleeves and pressed the sweater behind her shoulders. He leaned back enough to spy her bra, a pale pink that matched her leggings with lace that screamed princess and he hummed. 

He pressed his face to her chest, sucking and licking at the soft flesh right between her breasts as Claire gasped, her hands coming to the back of his head to thread through his hair and press him closer. 

“Keep moving those hips baby.” John whispered, a finger coming up to hook on the edge of one of the cups and he pulled, her supple breast popping free to expose a hard nipple and small areola, “Fucking perfect-” he whispered, arousal and want flowing through him as Claire continued to slowly move her hips and he looked up, meeting her eyes which were glazed with heat, “I want to taste it-” John said, the closest he’d get to ask her permission and Claire gave a shaky nod. That was all he needed and so pressed his tongue to run around the nipple before he latched on, sucking and nipping at it. 

Claire jerked, her hip movement becoming less unsure and more urgent. His hands splayed across her back, holding her close to him so he could continue his ministrations. He wanted to do more, so much more, but he knew he was already pressing his luck, going any further than this would probably freak her out, but this was enough for now. 

It occurred to him she’d stopped moving and John’s dick was all the poorer for it. He shifted out of desire, swinging Claire around and plopping her onto her back. Hands gently pulled her sweater off over her head. She gasped as John moved to lay on her but still didn’t say anything, moaning softly when he went back to work on her single exposed breast, her sweater now on the floor. 

He could spend all afternoon latched onto it, licking and sucking, pinching, messaging it with a hand and as his hips pressed between her thighs, both still fully clothed in that area, he wished he could press into her. It was a fleeting thought and one he wouldn’t dare try this early in their relationship, not with a girl like her, but he was seventeen and Claire was beautiful and so the thought did inevitably cross his mind. 

He found her lips again, his hand coming to replace his mouth as his thumb flicked over the hard nipple and his palm caressed it softly. It was when he moved to kiss and nibble at her neck that his hips gave a soft thrust, his obvious boner pressing against her heat, and despite them being dressed she let out a loud gasp. 

“Alright? Too much?” John asked into her neck, trying to rationalize how he needed to slow down and cool off and most likely go into the bathroom and rub one out. 

“Fine...it just felt...weird.” Claire breathed, her hands were resting on either side of her head, John’s face buried in her neck as he smiled, “This?” and he gently rolled his hips again and Claire gave a breathy, “Uh-huh-” 

"Feel good or bad? Wanna stop?" He asked in a rather intoxicated manner. 

"No...and it felt good...I think...I don't...I'm not sure." And her voice betrayed her delight as it was airy and light, telling him exactly how good it felt.

"Well then, let's be sure." And he moved against her again, making sure to rub and grind against her sweet spot and Claire whined, "Oh god-" 

She didn’t have to say anything else, John's hips started moving in earnest, pressing himself hard against her and creating hot friction that made him grunt. He’d never found dry humping particularly arousing, especially considering he’d had actual sex before. 

But given Claire wasn’t about to have sex with him and he never imagined he’d get this far with her, the heat that flared as he pressed himself between her thighs was sharp and bright. 

“God, Princess, I'd give anything to be buried in your-” 

“John!” Claire suddenly cried as she arched against him. John cursed as he realized what just happened, her arms wrapping around his neck tightly and his hand gripping at her hip to hold her still so he could slow his thrusts in time with her fade. 

Fucking Cherry, tipping over just from some dry humping, so fucking cute...fucking hot...fucking...perfect. Such a fucking tease...damn!

And he focused in on her, feeling her tremble, feeling the way her hips gave those instinctive little thrusts after an orgasm and he kissed her mercilessly. Swallowing her soft moans and shallow breaths as his mind raced with how he’d just given Shermer's high school prom queen her first orgasm. He felt fucking high like he was on top of the world because he'd made himself useful and had proven his worth. 

Now she clung to him, kissing him back, nestling into his neck, whispering his name, sighing so sweetly and John soaked it up like a dried-out sponge. His hips eventually stopped, his boner still evident against her but he wasn’t so concerned with himself as he was with what she thought of the experience. 

“That wasn’t part of the plan, Princess. I wasn’t trying to-” 

“Mmm, I liked it." And she sounded sleepy and John chuckled. 

"Yeah? Not as terrifying as you thought?" 

She shook her head no before her face flushed red and she started to giggle. 

"Good old afterglow, leaves you feeling goofy, doesn't it," John said. 

Claire pressed a hand to her face, "I can't believe that just happened." 

"Yeah? Me either. Not many girls get off from dry humping like a twelve-year-old." 

Claire playfully pushed his face away but John only laughed. 

"It's embarrassing. I didn't plan that anymore then you did." 

"But you make the sexiest sounds, Sweets. Just like Erica Boyers." And his head slung down, his mouth lazily sucking at her nipple and Claire jerked, her hands gripping into his hair and pulling his head up.

"Whose Erica Boyers?" Claire asked with a hint of concern. 

"She's just the best Porn star in the industry. But nothing compared to you." 

Claire's eyes went wide, "You sleaze." 

"Well excuse me for giving a compliment." John huffed as he buried his face back into her neck and kissed her skin sharply. 

Claire tried to stop her giggle but she couldn't and her rather forced annoyance as the porn star comparison faded before she asked softly, "W-what about you?” Both of them had finally cooled down and as they looked at each other John smirked, "Concerned for my well-being, are we?" Claire flushed.

"Next time, Princess. I wasn’t exactly expecting to go this far, and I don’t think you would be particularly fond of putting my dick in your mouth….unless of course, you prefer to watch." 

It was blunt of him to say it, but he figured at this point skirting around the truth was pretty dumb, “Ew.” Claire said as her face scrunched up, “But what a sight that would be. You look up at me while you-” 

“Stop!” Claire said as she laughed and smacked his shoulder lightly. John leaned in and kissed her neck, “Next time.” He heard her say softly in his ear and he pulled his head back, a look of surprise etched on his face and Claire met his eye as her cheeks turned red, “Maybe.” she added nervously and John gave a subtle nod before he leaned down and returned to her sweet pouty lips. 

They spend about a half-hour, lazily making out, John’s hands not missing the opportunity to gently squeeze and fondle that lone breast and nipple as he lay with her on the couch. Despite his ache for release he knew he’d wait until he got home, he wasn’t about to try for more when he had successfully gotten this far without her really refusing him or getting upset. 

This is trust-building or some shit right? Respectin' boundaries and listening to her? Maybe I pushed too far, she did say she didn't wanna take her shirt off.. but she didn't say no…maybe she was too scared to say no? Nah, not Claire. She'd slap me first. She'd tell me….right? My ma doesn't tell my dad no…but…he hurts her when she does so…but I've never hurt Claire like that…I wouldn't hurt her like that…she… knows that…right?

He spoke suddenly, the slight concern in his voice evident as he asked, "You'd tell me right?" 

Claire hummed softly, "Hm? Tell you what?" 

"To stop…if…if I tried to do somethin' you didn't want. You'd say somethin' right?" 

He met her eyes and Claire looked confused for a moment before she nodded subtly, "Yeah. Of course, I would." 

"Right. So…all this-" and he pointed at her breast, "It was okay…or you would have said something right? You're not scared to say no?" 

Claire looked surprised and her soft sleepy voice inquired, "No. I trust you…why would you ask me something like-" 

John laid his head back down on her chest, "My ma doesn't when my dad-" and he felt her stiffen below him considerably and John bit his tongue, "Forget it, Sweets. I just…wanted to make sure you knew ….you can say no. I won't hurt you if you do. I won't make you do anything you don't want to, Cherry." 

She didn't say anything to that, simply running her fingers through his hair in pensive thought as he sighed contentedly, feeling better now that he had clarified her thoughts on the matter. 

Eventually, he came to lay his head on her bare chest, hand still softly palming her breast or running a finger around her nipple which he refused to let alone. After a while, Claire asked if he needed to go home and John reluctantly said he probably should. 

Surprisingly it was Claire who broached the topic as she ran her perfectly cut nails through his hair softly, John letting out a heavenly groan as she did, “Do you…uh maybe…want to stay here tonight?” 

John’s eyes opened, staring off towards the entertainment system as he mused in his head how bad of an idea that was. Did he want to stay, yes, more than anything. But, could he stay and still retain his so far patient and semi-gentlemanly ways? Probably not. The truth of the matter was, if she took him to her bed, he’d want to lay her down and spend the night pressed between her thighs. Even knowing he needed to play this entire week cool and accept the fact that sex wasn’t going to happen, he’d still try even though he knew the answer was no. 

He was seventeen and horny, and honestly, he wasn’t above trying to get some when the opportunity presented itself. And the fact that it was Claire in all her soft and tender glory, would only make him try harder. He wanted to wrap up in her gentleness, bury his face in her throat and suck on her skin until it was purple, disappear in her and never reemerge. Unlike the other girls he’d been with before, nothing was quick and she wasn’t saying thanks for the good time and see you later. She was asking him to stay and John just knew he’d not be able to avoid trying. 

“What? Stay here at Casa de Standish? Thanks for the offer, Cherry. But nah, I should get home.” 

“Why?” She asks softly, her arms coming to wrap around his neck gently as she gives a genuine pout, “Cause my daddy will miss me. What do you think?” He teased and she sighed softly, “I don’t….” and she paused, her bottom lip being bitten between her teeth as she debated and John waited, wanting to see how brave she could be, wanting to know how honest she could be, “I…” 

“Yes, princess? No need to be shy, I have had your tit in my mouth for the last two hours, ya know.” Claire shook her head softly, as a small smile came to her face and her eyes closed, whether to mentally recall the images of him sucking on her breast or to try and keep herself from laughing he wasn’t sure but after a moment her eyes opened again and her smile faded as she swallowed and pulled him closer, “I don’t like that he hurts you. If you stay here…tonight at least…he can’t hurt you. And…we could just…be together. Just us, no parents, no pain and…kissing…all night long.” 

John studies her face, sees how much she desires him to stay before she presses closer, her eyes fluttering closed and her forehead comes to his shoulder and she resolutely admits, “Whenever you’re gone…I feel…hollow.” 

“Don’t.” John suddenly whispers and he feels her stiffening, her arms loosening as she leans back and meets his gaze, he sees the tears, just barely glazing her view as she wipes at them quickly, “Sorry.” she whispers. 

“You say shit like that to me…it’ll make me wanna stay….and if I stay…if I stay-” and he wants to bite his tongue, knows what will happen if he admits it to her, doesn’t want her to see him that way, but she’s been honest and he knows he needs to reward that honesty with the same kindness. It might ruin this moment but he presses their foreheads together as he says softly, “If I stay I’ll want to fuck you. I’m not gonna put either of us in that position. No matter…no matter how bad I wanna…I want my week with you…and sex will just screw it the fuck up. So…no Cherry…I gotta go.” and he kisses her gently, Claire’s eyes wide as she realizes he isn’t bullshitting and so she reluctantly nods, John swearing under his breath as he pulls away from her and picks up her top, passing it to her before he asks, “Where’s the toilet?” 

Claire points as she slowly adjusts her bra to sit right and then pulls on her sweater. John turns without a word and heads straight for it. He’s not sure how she feels now, they’d had a good night, a few slips here and there, both of them having tempers that could be poisonous yet when they had exploded somehow…they had worked through it. 

He’d never been able to do that before. Usually, his temper left him stewing in rage for hours after, but somehow he had put it aside for her, and she had in turn ignored her pride and they had turned what could have been a horrible moment into something much better. 

Never been able to do that before, what the hell has she done to me? I feel…like…it’s worth being exposed if it means she’ll stay close to me. Fucking shit, she’s getting in my head, but…she smells so good, tastes so good…she so fucking soft…so damn gentle…and I just want to…I’ve never had anything beautiful before…everything I touch crumbles…but she…she just…fuck, man. I’m so screwed. 

He already knows what is happening, but at the moment can’t bring himself to face the reality of his own weakness. All he wants is to take a piss and come back to find her still open and waiting for him. His sudden admittance of how badly he wanted to lay her down could make her think or feel several different things…but he’d tried to make it clear, it wasn’t just about sex. He wanted his week with her, wanted to keep seeing her, wanted to keep seeing her smile at him and willingly touch him and- 

He shut the door to the bathroom, walked to the sink, and turned on the water, splashing his face with the icy liquid before drying it with a towel and then turning towards the toilet so he could take a piss. He shook off the last lingering ounces of his sex drive and tried to clear his head, needing to be on his a-game when he went back to face her and prepared for whatever she might say. 

He hesitated when he was done, hand on the doorknob as he felt fear swirl in his stomach but he swallowed and opened it. Finding Claire was no longer in the living room and he looked through to the kitchen to see Claire messing around with a plastic bag. 

Approaching cautiously he came up behind her, his tongue sliding across his teeth behind thin lips as he wrapped arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder, “Okay, Cherry?” 

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m just making you a care package. I can’t eat all this and I don’t care much for leftovers.” 

John felt relief wash through him, she wasn’t rejecting him despite his honesty with her earlier and so glanced down at the counter, seeing her put two small bags of chips, four slices of plastic-wrapped pizza, and two cans of soda in a grocery bag. 

“I’d appreciate it if you’d take this without yelling at me about pity or sympathy. It’s not that, I just won’t eat it. So just…please just take it and don’t yell at me for offering, okay?” she quickly tied the top of the grocery bag, before grabbing it up and turning in his arms, “Okay?” she asked again and John’s eyes locked onto her face, studying her so very carefully, every inch of her, reading her eyes which didn’t, in fact, hold any pity but instead held worry and John knew there was a difference between the two. 

“Yeah…okay-” he manages, keeping his tone neutral, not angry but not offended either, slowly reaching up and taking the bag from her so he could press closer, raising his other hand to cup the back of her head as he pulled her in for another kiss. Deep and slow, he lapped hungrily into her mouth, feeling how Claire’s hands fisted at his flannel.

When they broke the kiss John’s lips dragged up her face to her forehead where he placed another kiss, eyes closing as he savored this soft moment, a moment he’d wanted since before he ever met Claire or the Breakfast Club, something gentle and soft and quiet and tender and…

Fuck me, I’m so fucking screwed- 

“I wish you could stay,” she whispers. 

“Me too. But my gentlemanly behavior only goes so far before I become another mindless dickhead looking to get lucky. I want you Cherry, I want to dig deep, take root and never let you go. But with only one week…it’s a risk we can’t take. I ain’t willing to-” 

“I know.” she whispers, her voice suddenly coated with lust and John smirks, “You like that?” 

“Mmm.” she hums as she kisses his neck and John hisses, “Cherry, damn it, I gotta go. You keep this up and I’ll put you on your back you fucking tease.” he bites hard though he manages to keep his volume soft, the annoyance in his voice evident but his anger not burning to life at how stubborn and unfair she is being. 

“Sorry.” she whispers, her hands pressing across his stomach and John pulls away from her, “You’re a bitch, ya know that.” he shivers out as he tries to keep himself in check and Claire smiles, “I know…and I’m sorry…but…I have a way to make it up to you.” she says and John finally looks at her, “What, you wanna suck my-” but he stops when Claire holds out a hand and from it a set of keys dangle, a lucky rabbit's foot swaying softly and John’s eyes go wide, his back straightening considerably as Claire slowly moves to the island to grab up her goat and purse, a massive smile on her face as her chocolate eyes shine knowingly. 

“You…you really gonna let me-” John starts and Claire giggles before she moved quickly around the island towards the garage, “Oh man, don’t fuck with me Claire-” he warns and she lets out a laugh as she jogs towards the garage. 

He grabs up his coat and gloves quickly as he pursues, “Fuck man, you better not be fucking me with, Cherry!” and he chases after her, shooting through the door leading to the garage and managing to catch the keys she tosses at him as she opens the passenger side and gets in. 

John looks at the ceiling, closing his eyes and mouthing a silent thank you to whatever God had granted him his wish as he quickly moves to the driver's side door and gets in. 

“Wrap up princess, we’re going for a fuckin’ drive.” Claire smiles wickedly as she puts on her coat and wraps her scarf around her neck as she puts on her seatbelt, “You can drive stick, right?” she asks, and John scoffs, “What kind of stupid question is….wait…can you?” and he looks at her, hand frozen on the key as it’s about to turn and Claire’s curious face slides into a mischievous smile before she nods, “Obviously.” 

John hisses in a breath before he says roughly, “You’re making it really hard for me to not bone the shit out of you, Claire.” 

“Pig.” She scoffs as she looks away and John just smiles at her as he starts the car, hits the garage opener, and shifts into reverse, nearly gunning it backward out of the drive and Claire gasps as her arms braced against the window and dash. 

“Please don’t wreck my car, as much as I hate this thing, it’s the only one I have and dad’s not going to buy me another one.” Claire winces and John rolls his eyes, “Poor baby, don’t worry Cherry, just pay attention-” he starts as he hits the button to close the garage and Claire glances at him with annoyance, “Why? I know how to drive a stick.” 

“Uh-huh, sure, but ya see…I’m about to open this baby up and show you what she can really do…and if you pay attention…you’ll also get a little preview of what I could do for you.” he winked at her as Claire’s lips parted and her brow wrinkled in confusion, "What do you mean?" 

John scoffs as he clicks his tongue in protest, “A car is just like a woman, hit all the right spots and shift her gears just right…she’ll moan like a whore you wanna fuck twice-” 

“JOHN!” Claire gasps in shock and he only licks his lips, “So pay attention-” and he shifts and hits the gas, Claire jerking back in her seat as he speeds out of the neighborhood. 

At first, she’s terrified, she thinks John’s going to get pulled over. She’d get in trouble letting him drive the car, John would most likely get arrested for smelling like dope and driving recklessly and her car would be impounded until her father got it out if he did at all. 

But John was quick to shift away from the suburbs, speeding out towards farmland and “taking a route that doesn’t have cops” which left Claire doubtful. Yet, as she watched him drive she realized that despite the fact he most likely didn’t have a car of his own, he shifted like he’d been doing it since the day he was born. 

While Claire could drive stick, on occasion she did grind the gears and she wasn’t near as comfortable as he was. It was like watching a machine, so fluid and perfectly timed, no grinding gears, no jerky stops, or hesitant clutches, he was a pro and she admired him for it. 

"Where did you learn to drive stick?" She asked as they sped along smoothly. 

John's jaw clenched as he glanced at her, debating if he should make something up or tell the truth. 

He waited too long to respond, however, as Claire asked again, this time softer, "John?" 

He glanced at her reluctantly, "Where-" he cut her off but kept his voice soft though even he could hear the bitterness in his own voice, "My old man owns a towing business. And…there was a time when things at home weren't so bad. He used to…take me with him…on the job. He taught me how so I could help, ya know, load the cars…drive the truck and shit…didn't have to pay me anything cause I was his kid and at the time…he still liked me."  

Claire hesitated but then asked softly, "And…now?" 

John didn't look at her, his eyes venomous as he watched the road before them, "Now he doesn't." 

It was dark as they sped much too fast on back roads and gravel drives, John turned up the music and opened the windows. 

It was freezing, but Claire felt utterly free. They came across a stop sign, and John shifted down to a stop, the car idling as he waited and put it in park, no cars coming from any direction as the farmland spread out before them. 

She eyed him in confusion before he hit the button to drop the top and as they waited for it to retract Claire saw the way he stared at the distant roads ahead of him, the light from the dash barely illuminating his face as he pulled out a cigarette and said softly, “Smoke 'em, if ya got 'em." 

John noticed she didn't really respond with anything but a soft smile as her head rolled lazily against the headrest before looking up into the sky. 

“So many stars.” She mused softly to herself. While it was still bitterly cold at night and spring was a month or two away, the sky was crystal clear, and out here, far away from the light pollution of the city, you could see them all. 

"Yeah, ain’t it so romantic? A billion stars and planets and I had to be born on this one.” John scoffed sardonically. 

“Really? That’s all you have to say?” Claire asks with annoyance. 

“Well, what else is there to say, princess? My life’s shit, their life is shit-” 

“Whose?” 

“Everyone’s! This planet of ours isn’t exactly full of compassion and understanding. I mean, hell, I thought you had a good life, turns out it’s just as shit as everyone else’s. So really, what’s the point?” 

John noticed that Claire was actually thinking about what he had said, taking a long moment to digest his words and consider her response and John found it so very odd that someone was actually considering what he had said and thinking of a legitimate answer. 

“Well, I suppose….when you look at it that way…the only point to living would be to try and make a life for yourself that isn’t shit.” 

 He gave an unimpressed grunt, “Mmm, very enlightening sentiment from Claire the wise-” and she rolled her eyes at his rebuff but John continued anyway, “Do tell, exactly how do you make a life that isn’t shit if the world judges you on sight, assumes the worst and moves on without even giving you a chance? Eh? Answer me that one, oh wise woman of the stars.” 

Claire gave a hard glare but thought for a moment longer before she shook her head, “I don’t know, I guess…if that’s the case…the only thing you can do is-” 

“Iiiiiissss?” John pressed and Claire finally met his eyes and gave a wicked smile, “Make the choice to prove them wrong, and if that doesn’t work….knock ‘em the fuck out.” 

John stared a moment, eyes wide before he started to chuckle and then began to outright laugh, Claire, joining him. 

They settled down after a moment and John looked at her, Claire not noticing at first but eventually glancing his way and John swallowed as he asked softly, “Hey, you, lady with the red hair-”  

“Yes?” and her smile was so damn affectionate he nearly thought he wouldn’t be able to speak, but he cleared his throat and asked softly, eyes suddenly looking down and locking onto the shifter, “You ever… think about… leaving?” 

He bent forward as he lit his smoke, before tossing the lighter into the cup holder and placing his hand on the stick shift, eyes once again looking at the dark distant horizon and Claire felt her heart flutter and her nerves sizzle. 

“Sometimes.” she whispers, the exposure to the dark night and cold air making her pull her coat tighter around her, “Where would you go?” he asked softly, his hand tightening on the shifter as he took a drag of his smoke and continued to gaze forward, face filled with longing for a life where he never had to look back. 

“My brother’s place. But you knew that.” 

“Where does he live?” John asks. 

And Claire hesitates, feeling a strange shift in the young man next to her and she sees his head turn, eyes finally breaking away from his imagined escape route as he asks again, “Where does he live, Sweets?” 

Claire swallows before she says, “California.” 

“San Diego?” 

She shakes her head as he eyes her and she murmured, “L.A.”  

“Wanna go?” he asks, his face returning to the road, eyes fixed on some distant place, “I’ve never had wheels before, this is the first time in my life I’ve ever had that I could really go…faster than my feet could carry me….faster than any cop could catch…I’d just…be gone… we could be…gone.” he looks at her, his face for the first time since she’s really met him completely neutral.  

“John…I…we can’t-” and she is getting a little more nervous, fighting the impulse to grab at the door handle or undo her belt. She's not scared of him, Claire has this feeling that he'd never really hurt her…but she wouldn’t put it past him to allow this sudden compulsion to run win out over his common sense. 

“This summer.” he clarifies gently. 

Clarie smiles, “Yeah right, like my parents would let me drive to L.A.” 

“Say you wanna go to a girly camp, they have that, right? Say you wanna go and let me have the car and I’ll come to get you and we can-” 

“John.” Claire whispers as she places her hand over his, he looks at her, cigarette burning slowly as the smoke rises into the star-filled sky, “I know you want to leave…I do too…and leaving with you…it’d be…like living some insane dream…but…I’m not ready yet. I…want to finish High School and-” 

“Why?” he asks sharply, not angrily, but with a petulant frustration and Claire realizes it’s the calm before the storm, she’s going to need to choose her words carefully and she can’t let her own frustration get the better of her. 

“I…don’t know. I guess I just want to see it through. If I wait until after High school…I mean..it would be easier to go to college later if I want…but…if I left now…I might never come back…and…I just…getting your G.E.D just doesn’t look as good-” 

“Screw ‘em. Who cares?” he deadpans as he looks at her sharply, “I care, people who might want to hire me care…and despite what you think of me…I want to be able to support myself. I don’t want to have to rely on my mom and dad…that reliance comes with conditions and if I’m going to ever get out of their shadow and be able to tell them no…I have to be able to support myself…I can’t do that with a G.E.D and a shit education at some community college.” 

John scoffs, looking away from her before he shakes his head, “Fuckin’ rich people. You think you gotta graduate from some shit high school and then go to some five-star college if you want to make a life for yourself. You don’t understand, the only reason people do that shit is to maintain. You wanna maintain the life you're living now without the money coming straight from Daddy’s wallet. Fine, I get it, it’s nice to have shit and never be hungry and have a roof over your head, but you can still do all that shit with a regular shitty ass job. It won’t be as fancy, and sometimes you’ll struggle but you don’t need to be a fucking CEO of some major corporation to-” 

“What if I want to be a fashion designer?” and John looks at her in surprise, “I get what you're saying, John, I really do. But I can’t just take off, bail on high school, and not go to college and walk into a fashion mogul and hand them a drawing with zero education or experience and expect them to give me my own fashion line. I have to work for something like that. I have to earn it. You, of all people, should understand that.” 

He’s silent for a moment, digesting her words as she had done for him. It seemed easier, somehow, to return someone’s consideration when they are considerate to you. He finds himself less defensive, because she had listened to him, she had considered his words, and had given a legitimate response. Something about that made him want to do the same. And fuck him if he understood why. 

He flicks his smoke away and smirks, shaking his head as he sighs, “Fuck…I do…more than I want to admit.” and they sit in silence, both of them leaning back to look up at the stars as he whispers out softly, “Fashion design, huh? Not a surprise…but…not what I expected.” 

“Oh yeah? What did you expect? I’d want some rich man who feeds me up with booze to keep me quiet and gives me money to keep me happy?” 

“No,” he says sharply, noting how she can be even more defensive than him and he likes that. 

“Good. Cause like I said Saturday, I’m never going to become my mother. I’ll never turn into them. I’ll never let my heart die.” 

John smirks, glancing at her and he gives a wicked grin as he says, “My ma used to be a teacher before she met my old man. But for you…I don’t know…I was thinking, stripper .” 

Claire looks at him and bursts out laughing as she smacks his shoulder, “Asshole. Just wait, you’ll end up being a drug dealer ya burnout.” 

John laughed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a joint, “Fuck no…well….maybe on the side.” she looks at him with stunned eyes before he lit the joint and takes a long slow drag 

"Well?" She suddenly asks. 

"Well, what?" He parrots back. 

She rolls her eyes and gives a heavy sigh to show her frustration, "What do you want to do?" 

John stares at her for a long moment, before he looks away and shakes his head, "Nothing." 

Claire leaned back in her seat petulantly though her voice remained calm, "Lie. You gotta want to do something, right? I mean, if you could have any job, anything in the whole world and there was nothing stopping you-" 

"What, like no money or school or assholes?" He asks as he glances at her. 

"No money or school or assholes, what would you wanna be?" She asks with a nod. 

John debates, he's never really told anyone what he actually wants to do. He did have an idea, something he'd thought about since he was a kid and his dad would take him to the car shows with him. 

For some reason, as he looks down at the dash his heart speeds up and his mind begins to stress as he swallows and his hands tighten on the steering wheel, "You won't tell anybody?" John asks without looking at her. 

There is a pause before Claire nods and holds up a hand, "Swear to God." 

 “Mm, don't have much faith in him," John said with a faint scoff as he continued to stare at the dimly lit dashboard before him. 

"Then…I'll swear to this…" Claire leans over and gives a gentle kiss to John's cheek, tucking some loose strands of hair behind his ear as she waits. 

John grits his teeth and closes his eyes as he hunches his shoulders a little and admits begrudgingly, "If I could choose…I’d want to restore old cars. Have a shop where I can just work on them all day. Sell ‘em when they are all pretty again…hear them purr like they used to…take something broken and unloved and make it so beautiful it hurts to look at ‘em.” 

Claire studies the side of his face, John’s clever eyes glancing at her as he slowly hands her the joint and she notices the faint tremor of his hand, waiting a moment before she takes a tiny drag, not wanting to get as blazed up as she had last time but definitely wanting to feel the high. 

“I think…you’d be really good at that.” she manages, once again returning her eyes to the stars as her lungs spasm and she coughs softly. 

She sees him relax out of the corner of her eye before he chuckles at her light coughing, she hands the joint back and he takes a bigger hit, “Yeah, me too. I’d have this really nice shop, it’d be attached to my house and…I’d have this cool track where I could test them out, maybe rebuild some old-school racing cars…but some of the old American-made cars would be cool too. And I-” 

They talk for another hour, Claire listening and sharing in John’s ideas for a shop, adding small ideas and suggestions of her own, and in their minds and words, they build John’s dream shop, with a house by a lake, where it’s quiet but he can blare his music so loud the trees shake. He’d finish building his motorcycle and he’d take her on rides in the country, they’d go swimming in the lake when it’s hot, nude of course, a strict policy John would enforce with a large sign that dictated such. 

Claire had honestly never been so excited for something that didn’t even exist, she smiled and laughed and John seemed like he hadn’t been angry a day in his life. 

After a particularly fatiguing belly laugh, Claire sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder, “It’s nice to dream, isn’t it? Detach for a little bit and go someplace else? Think of the life that might wait for you after all of this high school bullshit?” 

John’s smile faded and sighed, not having much left to say and after a moment of silence he gently shook his head, the enchantment was broken, “Alright, princess, let’s get you home.” He shifts slowly, pulling a u-turn and heading back the way they had come. 

It takes them forty minutes to reach an area close to his house, and Claire notices he makes no attempt to show her where he actually lives. He gets out and so does she, rounding the car to take the driver's seat as John leans through the window, the top of the car back up for her drive home. 

“You sure you don’t want me to just drop you-” 

“Yeah. Trust me, princess. This car wouldn’t last two seconds on my street. It’s only ten minutes from here. I’ll see you tomorrow. Drive safe…I’m gonna call your house in thirty if you don’t pick up-” 

“I’ll be there. Relax. Just…get home safe. Are you coming to school tomorrow?” 

John nods his head, “Oh yeah, those virgin lips of yours ain’t chapped enough yet, gonna have to keep kissing them. Besides, I can’t fuck with Sporto if I don’t show up.” 

“John-” Claire sighs and he wiggles his eyebrows, “Don’t be late.” 

She debates a moment before she asks, “Hey, want me to pick you up? I’ll bring breakfast.” 

John studies her face, Claire blushing as she looks down at her lap, “Right…sorry, I-” 

“As much as I’d love a ride in my Cherry’s ‘stang, I ain’t getting my ass up that early. I’ll see you at school, 7:30. Don’t be late or I’ll have to bend ya over my knee and spank your pretty little-” she presses her lips to his, a soft kiss that halts his rather lude joke and as she leans back she whispers, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Hmph, I’ll call you in thirty. Now get your ass home, Sweets. It’s past your bedtime.” She rolls her eyes and gives him the finger as she smiles and pulls away, shifting carefully as she aims for the main road. 

In her rear view mirror, she sees him fade away into the darkness, and her heart clenches. Her drive home is uneventful but she can’t help thinking about the way he had gazed out into the darkness of the backroads, an urge to keep driving and never look back written all over his blank face. 

She wished they could, but Claire wasn’t one for whimsy and she wasn’t about to walk away from all the opportunities she had to make a life for herself where she truly could be self-sufficient. It was a foreign concept to her but between the possibility of her dad trying to pair her off with Brant Hill and how utterly screwed she would be if he were to take his financial support away, she knew she had to start applying herself. 

Another part of her seemed to shift, not just looking outside of herself and seeing all her inner flaws but realizing that if she wanted any hopes of actually becoming her own person she couldn’t rely on her parents anymore. It was a hard pill to swallow, for in her mind she’d always humored the idea of floating through High School, only to get out and go study abroad in Paris or England. It had never occurred to her that her father’s money could take her wherever she wanted to go but that it might come with a price. 

It would be much too easy for Claire to find herself in a position where her parents could threaten to stop giving her money if she didn’t comply with whatever whims or ideas they had for her. Sure, they’d denied her allowance on occasion and they had grounded her, though, given her parents differing opinions on how to raise her and who was the better parent, none of it ever lasted. 

But…if they were to ever actually agree on one specific thing being best for her, say, marrying Brant Hill, for example, a united front could destroy all of Claire’s hopes and dreams. They could take everything away from her in order to get her to comply with what they thought was best. 

Her parents would never force her to marry someone, it wouldn't actually be an arranged marriage. But Brant’s dad could make suggestions, her own father seeing the benefit and trying to talk Claire into it for the sake of whatever deals Brant’s dad offered. 

If Claire said no, well, her dad could suddenly decide she needed to spend the next year or two at some all-girls boarding school. It made her sick to think of it, but everything was a transaction and Claire was no better than an object. Surely they loved her in their own way, but a suggested marriage had been done for them so how could they possibly see it as wrong to do it to her? 

When she pulled into the garage she shut the door and went inside, hanging up her coat, purse and keys before heading to her room. The house was deathly silent and as soon as she reached her bedroom she clicked on her radio and went about getting ready for bed. 

Supposedly John would call in the next fifteen minutes so she settled onto her bed with the last of her math homework and waited. The phone rang three minutes later and she picked it up in a hurry, “Hello?” 

“Did ja do it?” came Allison’s curious voice and Claire scoffed and rolled her eyes, “No.” 

“What did you do?” she asked and Claire could hear the smile in her voice. 

“Who says we did anything?” Claire asked. 

“You’re voice. You’re anxious.” 

Claire huffed as she shot back at the brunette, “Did you and Andy do it?” 

“No. But I sucked him off.” 

Claire’s jaw dropped as she lost her voice for a moment, her mind going blank because she genuinely couldn’t tell if Allison was being serious or not, “Are you serious?” she asked, her voice strained as she rolled onto her belly and left her math homework to rot. She was far too interested in what Allison's answer was. 

“Huh-huh,” she said before she laughed and Claire also laughed but her laugh was one of disbelief. 

“Okay so, how was it?” suddenly her phone line beeped and she quickly said, “Hey, hold on, do not go anywhere. John’s just calling to make sure I made it home okay. I’ll be right back.” 

She switched over and smiled into the phone, “Hey.” 

“Aaah, good girl, you made it home and picked up.” he teased and Claire snorted, “Eat shit. And yes, I’m home-” her brow furrowed then and she said in a soft voice laced with affection, “I hope you have a good night.” 

“Oh I will, I got plenty of mental imagery to keep my company while I rub a few out.” 

“God, you’re so gross.” she groaned as she dug fingers into her eyes in frustration, “Not gross. It’s a healthy sexual appetite, you should try it sometime, give the ol’ bean a tickle-” 

“Okay, I’m hanging up now. Have a good night. Thanks for hanging out.” and just to spite him she hung up before he could respond, the phone making a strange noise as she switched back over, “Allison? Still there?” 

“Oh yeah-” and Claire could tell she was pleased with herself, “So you’re really not messin’ with me, you actually sucked him off? No bullshit.” 

“No bullshit.” 

Claire whined into the phone, “That’s so totally gross.” 

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad,” Allison said, her slightly more sober tone telling Claire she might actually have enjoyed it. 

“So…wait…what happened?” Claire asked. 

“What do you mean what happened I put his-” 

“NO! God, why is everyone in this group so into oversharing? I mean, what happened that led up to it. What made you, like, decide to do it? Did he ask?” 

There was a beat of silence and Allison hesitated before she said, “Well, he didn’t really have much of a choice, he was kind of tied down.” 

Claire burst out laughing, “You're so full of shit! Stop teasing and tell me what actually happened you spazz.” 

Allison was laughing as well, the hum of the laugh she did when her lips remained shut and Allison let out a sigh, “Nothing really, okay? We were just…hanging out and then we were kissing and I felt him get hard so…I helped him out.” 

Claire waited a moment, realizing it had been Allison who initiated it and not Andy, “Well? Did he return the favor?” 

“Uh-huh.” Allison said and Claire could almost feel how giddy she was, “And?” 

“I liked it.” Allison whispered and Claire felt her grow still, “Does that make me a slut?” she asks and Claire settles too, the girl clearing her voice softly as she gives an affectionate smile her friend can’t see, “No. Just makes you cooler than me.” 

Allison made an odd sound and then asked, “So…I take it you and Johnny Rebel didn’t-” 

“We did some stuff…okay…he…he did stuff to me. I don’t…I’m not into kiss-and-tell but…I…I couldn’t return the favor. I…wasn’t brave enough. I felt awful and then I didn’t want him to leave and tried to get him to stay and…god I’m such a bitch. If I had been able to do it maybe he would have stayed-” 

“No. I don’t think John’s like that. His staying wouldn’t depend on if you did or didn’t blow him. I think he’s just trying to be respectful.” Allison assured. 

“I don’t know. I …what’s the point of trying to do more if I just become a girl…he considers .”

Allison makes an odd noise as if she’s pinching her nose and exhaling through it at the same time, “If you were just a girl he considers, he would have tried to have sex with you already. He didn’t pressure you for it so…I mean…he must like you.” 

“How are you so sure?” Claire asks, gazing at the floral pattern on her bedspread, “Well, he’s investing his time in you, for a person like John…time is important. It’s something he can’t get back so…I guess…that means you’re worth it to him.” 

“Yeah. I guess. I told him I might do it next time…but…I don’t know. The only thing I do know is I don’t want him to leave…and I don’t want to be a girl he just considers.”  

“Yeah? So….what are you going to do at the end of the week?” Allison asked and Claire swallowed, “I wish I knew. But…it’s complicated.” 

“Why does it have to be complicated?” Allison asked with a groan. 

Claire sighed as her eyes watered, “Al….if I tell you something…do you swear not to say a word to anyone? The club included?” 

“A real secret?” she asked with excitement.

“Yeah, just between us girls.” 

“Okay.” 

“My dad…m-might…I heard through the gossip mill…Becca told me…my folks might be trying to set me up with Brant Hill…and if they decide to do it…and I say no…they could….send me away.” 

The silence is deafening and strings on for a long moment, “Where would they send you?” she whispers softly, the small croak to her voice sounding like she might have tears in her eyes. 

“There’s this school….my mom went to it…my grandma too…an all-girls school….in France. It’s like finishing school except…ya know…when I graduate…my folks might have a husband waiting for me.” 

Allison squeaked before she snapped out quickly, “Run. I’ll go with you. We’ll take off, lay low…you don’t have to be their doll anymore. Let’s run away together, we can sell jewelry on the side of the road and sleep in the forests and bathe in waterfalls! We’ll be transient fairies.” 

It was the most absurd thing Claire had ever heard and after a moment she burst out laughing, Allison joining in and their giggles bounced back and forth over the phone line, a strange sound coming through and the girls went silent, “Did you hear that?” Claire asked. 

“No.” Allison sighed and Claire’s brow furrowed, “Your folks wouldn’t listen in to your calls would they?” 

“Like they care about who I’m talking to or what I have to say.” 

“Right. Well, this whole Brant thing puts a damper on things. As much as I want to keep seeing John…depending on what happens I may not have a choice and it would be unfair of me to ask him to wait.” 

“Yeah, but…he might-” 

“I don’t want to pretend there is hope, okay? I hate it, you get hopeful, and then it all comes crashing down and you just feel so small and…I don’t want to hope for something that isn’t going to happen.” 

"Maybe you should sleep with him," Allison said softly. 

Claire is silent and she hears a faint buzzing through the phone and asks softly, "Why would I sleep with him if there is a possibility we can't stay together?" 

"The question you should be asking yourself is…would you rather lose your virginity to a guy like John….or a sleaze like Brant Hill?" 

"I'm not going to sleep with, marry or even look at Brant, okay? That is never going to happen. I'd rather kill myself. As for John….I'm going to let this week play out…see what happens. Maybe if things go well I'll consider doing it but that's only if he doesn't get bored with me first." 

Allison pauses, before she says in a rather sad tone, "For being so popular, you have a really low opinion of yourself, don't you." 

Another long silence, "I gotta go." 

"Wait, don't hang up, Claire-" 

"Night Al." 

She hangs up the phone and her head comes to flop onto the bed, her eyes watering a little but she sucks it up and denies the welling emotions. She never really considered how she thought of herself. 

Slowly Claire sat up, coming to the edge of the bed before her face turned to look at the full-length mirror across the room. 

She looked away quickly, her eyes darting back and forth for a moment in thought. After a few minutes, she stood and walked over to the mirror, staring at herself. 

For being so popular, you have a really low opinion of yourself, don’t you- 

Claire sighed, a hand coming to push her messy hair out of her eyes. A combination of two hours on the couch, a windy car ride, and rolling around on her bed had left it rather out of control. She turned her face to the side only to spy something odd on her neck. 

There, pressed against pale skin was a faint bruise. It took her a few seconds to realize what it was but as her eyes bulged and her mouth dropped open she realized she had a hickey right where her shoulder met her neck. 

“Shit,” she whispered before she turned and went to her vanity, leaning over her makeup as she scoured her supplies to make sure she had a foundation strong enough to cover it and still blend with her skin tone. 

She looked up to the smaller mirror on her vanity, exposing her neck again to see the mark only for her eyes to notice something on the edge of her tank top. 

“No way-” she groaned before she quickly stood and walked back to her full-length mirror and yanked off her sleep shirt before pulling down her bra and spying three more faint bruises on and around her breast. The breast John had been sucking and kissing and- 

“Damn sneak!” she said angrily as she glared at the marks, her heart hammering and her anger rising. She crossed back to her bed to pick up the phone, she went to call him only to realize she didn’t know his number and couldn’t redial because Allison had been the last person to call her. 

“Damn.” she hissed as she slammed the phone down onto the receiver on her bed and turned to look back at the mirror. She scoffed before she walked back and lowered her bra again. The anger faded a little as she realized that while she hadn’t expected to have hickeys covering her breast…there was something a tiny bit compelling about it. 

She sagged a little, the tension and anger leaving her as she then realized, it was John who left these marks. Suddenly something soft and warm filled her belly, and after a moment she turned a little only to spot one smaller and much fainter one resting on the side near her ribs. 

Never having received a hickey before, at first she’d been highly annoyed, it was her body after all and John hadn’t asked if he could. But then she considered, if she’s dating him, even if it’s only for a week and completely fake, he’d left a mark on her that clearly stated she was with him. 

God forbid someone sees these in the locker room during gym but even if they did, all it would say to them is that Claire had been with John. In the grand scheme of things, as she thought back to Becca’s words about how being with John would make Brent Hill lose interest, her desire to not hide them hit her surprisingly hard. 

She obviously had no plan to show off her breasts to anyone, aside from John, but the mark on her neck…if she left that one exposed- 

No! It’s one thing to say you’re slumming it, it’s another thing entirely to show proof you’re slumming it. It’s better to cover it. If word got back to my folks they might know I had John over while they were gone. I can’t risk it, even if it might help to turn Brant off. But…I kind of like seeing them. Knowing they are there…I wonder if he knew he was doing it? Did he do it on purpose? Will he be mad if I cover up the one on my neck? It’s…kind of hot…

She shivered, her mind sending her back to their time on the couch, how he’d laid on top of her and lazily licked and sucked on her breast for nearly an hour, touching it and caressing it while giving her occasional kisses and humming whenever he took her nipple into his mouth. 

Claire replaced her bra and walked over to her bed, flopping down onto it as she stared at the ceiling. She recalled the feeling of him pressing against her with quick hard thrusts and the building heat and pleasure that twisted in her lower stomach. Her hand came to her abdomen, eyes closing as she bit her bottom lip and wondered what sex was actually like. 

She didn’t have anyone she could ask, and if she asked the wrong people word would spread too quickly to shut down. While Becca was a chatter-box she wouldn’t willfully go around and tell people that Claire was having sex with John. But she would hold it over Claire’s head for a long time and possibly use it as leverage to blackmail, that was more Becca’s style. As of yet, Becca had never had any real dirt on Claire she could use to her advantage and Claire wanted to keep it that way.  

Do I want to have sex with him? If anyone found out…god that would be shit. Everyone in the school would know and…do I really care? Andy said in two years it won’t even matter. I’ll never see half these people again. And what is the point of waiting if my folks might try to make me date Brant Hill? God, he’s such a creeper. I’ll just tell them he’s a creep. They have to listen. They have to care, right? They love me, right? They’ll listen if I tell them. Not that it’s going to happen anyway. No way my dad would go for it. As if. And even if he did I’ll just throw a temper tantrum, that usually makes him change his mind. 

She felt so conflicted. She was torn between wanting to do stuff with John and feeling sick about all this bullshit with Brant Hill. She had never gone out of her way to talk to him, the few times they had been around each other at a party they never spoke directly. The only reason he might decide he is interested is if there was something to gain or if he thought she would be an easy target. 

Suddenly she wished she had John’s number, she really wanted to call him back and talk to him, hear his voice, laugh at a gross sex joke, hear him tell her to stick it to anyone who made her feel like shit and to punch them in the face. 

Rolling onto her side Claire wondered what he was doing right now- 

I got plenty of mental imagery to keep me company while I rub a few out-

Claire felt something swirl in her lower stomach at the idea of John doing something like that to thoughts of her. Would he imagine them doing it? Or would he just think of what they did on the couch? Would he think of all the things he wanted her to do to him or what he'd like to do to her? 

Claire recalled how she felt when John had been rubbing against her, how quickly the pleasure built, and how she had fallen over so suddenly, pleasure shooting and her body trembling and-

You should try it sometime, give the ol’ bean a tickle- 

Claire bit her bottom lip, her eyes closing as she imagined John slowly crawling onto the bed and laying down on top of her. She imagined his hands rubbing up against her sides and over her breasts before reaching down to her pajama pants and slowly pulling them off- 

Heat suddenly bloomed in her lower belly and Claire gave a soft gasp before she sat up with a jerk and brought a hand to her mouth. Her eyes jumped back and forth in thought before they landed on her abandoned math homework and she quickly crawled over to it, grabbing up her pencil and starting to work on the next problem on the page. 

After all, solving for X was even better than a cold shower. She tried not to think of John the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

Monday, March 27th, 9:30 p.m. 

“Hey.” 

“Aaah, good girl, you made it home and picked up.” 

“Eat shit. And yes, I’m home…I hope you have a good night.” 

“Oh I will, I got plenty of mental imagery to keep me company while I rub a few out.” and John did. He was going to use every bit of his time with her tonight to his advantage and enjoy every memory as thoroughly as he could. 

“God, you’re so gross.” 

John balked, “Not gross. It’s a healthy sexual appetite, you should try it sometime, give the ol’ bean a tickle-” 

“Okay, I’m hanging up now. Have a good night. Thanks for hanging out.” John went to say something but the line gave a rather loud beep and a computerized voice chirped suddenly in his ear, “Party line active.” 

John was about to hang up, his confusion evident, when Claire’s voice hit his ear again, “Allison? Still there?” 

“Oh yeah-” 

“So you’re really not messin’ with me, you actually sucked him off? No bullshit.” 

“No bullshit.” 

John was frozen, he realized the girls didn’t know he was still on the line, one of them must have accidentally pressed a button to activate a three-way call. Most likely Claire, as only her folks would be rich enough to be able to afford a phone with a party line. And given the fact, that Claire had her own private line John wasn't all that surprised.

“That’s so totally gross.” 

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad.” 

“So…wait…what happened?” Claire asked and John realized Andy had gotten a blow job and Claire was asking Allison about it. He pressed the phone more firmly to his ear, any inkling of hanging up to give the pair privacy not even registering in his teenage head. 

“What do you mean what happened I put his-” 

“NO! God, why is everyone in this group so into oversharing? I mean, what happened that led up to it. What made you, like, decide to do it? Did he ask?” 

“Well, he didn’t really have much of a choice, he was kind of tied down.” John smacked a hand over his mouth to try and stifle his snort. 

“You're so full of shit! Stop teasing and tell me what actually happened you spazz.” 

“Nothing really, okay? We were just…hanging out and then we were kissing and I felt him get hard so…I helped him out.” 

Damn, Smiles is moving quick, maybe the whole sex-addict thing wasn’t a lie . 

“Well? Did he return the favor?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

WAY TO GO SPORTO! 

“And?” 

“I liked it…Does that make me a slut?” 

“No. Just makes you cooler than me.” 

“So…I take it you and Johnny Rebel didn’t-” 

John’s hand dropped from his mouth when he realized the conversation was turning towards him and Claire’s night and he closed his eyes, waiting to hear the sea of negative comments or backlash for his rather sad attempts to coax her into doing more. 

“We did some stuff…okay…he…he did stuff to me. I don’t…I’m not into kiss and tell-” 

John cocked his head at that as his eyes popped open, he was surprised she wanted to keep it private, her previous reputation as a part of the gossip mill leading him to believe she’d be all about over-sharing and ragging on him and his abilities. Just another way she was proving his misconceptions were wrong. 

“-but…I…I couldn’t return the favor. I…wasn’t brave enough. I felt awful and then I didn’t want him to leave and tried to get him to stay and…god I’m such a bitch. If I had been able to do it maybe he would have stayed-” 

John was relieved to see she wasn’t trash-talking him but something in his chest twisted at how sad Claire sounded, his head shaking subtly as if he were responding to her. 

It wasn’t true, he didn’t stay because she wouldn’t blow him but because he knew he’d try to get laid…he had been trying to be a gentleman…somehow Claire saw that as rejection, but…he thought she understood…how did she not understand his intentions! He told her! 

“No. I don’t think John’s like that. His staying wouldn’t depend on if you did or didn’t blow him. I think he’s just trying to be respectful.” 

THANK YOU, SMILES! YES! At least someone gets it! 

“I don’t know. I …what’s the point of trying to do more if I just become a girl…he considers.”

John stilled at that comment, his eyes glancing to his shabby desk where his wallet sat, the pictures of girls glowing like a beacon through the leather as he remembers their conversation on Saturday. 

“If you were just a girl he considers, he would have tried to have sex with you already. He didn’t pressure you for it so…I mean…he must like you.” 

That’s it Smiles, defend me, explain it to her, don’t let her psych herself out- 

“How are you so sure?” 

“Well, he’s investing his time in you, for a person like John…time is important. It’s something he can’t get back so…I guess…that means you’re worth it to him.” 

Grade A psychology, Smiles! 

“Yeah. I guess. I told him I might do it next time…but…I don’t know. The only thing I do know is I don’t want him to leave…and I don’t want to be a girl he just considers.”  

She doesn't want me to leave…that's good…but fuck me for keeping quickies in my wallet! I'm too sentimental, God damn it!

“Yeah? So….what are you going to do at the end of the week?” 

“I wish I knew. But…it’s complicated.” 

“Why does it have to be complicated?” 

Exactly! Damn, Smiles, you’re hitting every nail on the head hard, call her out! Make her realize it’s all bullshit, that it doesn’t have to be compli- 

“Al….if I tell you something…do you swear not to say a word to anyone? The club included?” 

“A real secret?” 

“Yeah, just between us girls.” 

“Okay.” 

Shit-

“My dad…m-might…I heard through the gossip mill…Becca told me…my folks might be trying to set me up with Brant Hill…and if they decide to do it…and I say no…they could….send me away.” 

The fuck? 

“-Where would they send you?” 

“There’s this school….my mom went to it…my grandma too…an all-girls school….in France. It’s like finishing school except…ya know…when I graduate…my folks might have a husband waiting for me.” 

OH HELL NO! 

“Run. I’ll go with you. We’ll take off, lay low…you don’t have to be their doll anymore. Let’s run away together, we can sell jewelry on the side of the road and sleep in the forests and bathe in waterfalls! We’ll be transient fairies.” 

John tried to stifle a laugh and froze when Claire whispered quickly, “Did you hear that?” 

“No.” 

“Your folks wouldn’t listen in to your calls would they?” 

“Like they care about who I’m talking to or what I have to say.” 

“Right. Well, this whole Brant thing puts a damper on things. As much as I want to keep seeing John…depending on what happens I may not have a choice and it would be unfair of me to ask him to wait.” 

“Yeah, but…he might-” 

“I don’t want to pretend there is hope, okay? I hate it, you get hopeful and then it all comes crashing down and you just feel so small and…I don’t want to hope for something that isn’t going to happen.” 

Ditto, Cherry….fucking ditto- 

"Maybe you should sleep with him." 

God, I wish she would- 

"Why would I sleep with him if there is a possibility we can't stay together?" 

"The question you should be asking yourself is…would you rather lose your virginity to a guy like John….or a sleaze like Brant Hill?" 

That statement made John’s insides go cold, and made him feel utterly sick. The idea of Claire having sex with Branty-boy-fuck-face made him want to vomit. He didn’t have a problem at the moment with them not having sex, John didn’t have some end goal of being Claire’s first, but he sure as HELL didn’t want Brant to be the guy to do it. It’d be the worst-case scenario for Claire and probably put her off sex for the rest of her natural-born life. If she was going to have sex with anyone it needed to be with a guy that respected her, and Branty-boy-fuck-face didn’t respect anyone. 

"I'm not going to sleep with, marry or even look at Brant, okay? That is never going to happen. I'd rather kill myself. As for John….I'm going to let this week play out…see what happens. Maybe if things go well I'll consider doing it but that's only if he doesn't get bored with me first." 

Bored? What the hell, Sweets?! Give me more fucking credit than that! 

"For being so popular, you have a really low opinion of yourself, don't you." 

"I gotta go." 

"Wait, don't hang up, Claire-" 

"Night Al." 

There was a loud beep and John cursed into the phone loudly, “JOHN!?” Came Allison's shrill call and John froze, the phone still plastered to his ear as he realized that even though Claire hung up Allison hadn’t and so their calls had been directly connected. 

What the hell does he do now? Hang up? Play dumb tomorrow if Allison brings it up? What if she brings it up in front of Cherry? She’d be pissed off, might not even speak to him again. Should he play it off? Act cool? Fuck…fuck….fuck! 

“I thought it might be you. When Clarie switched back over a rando voice said something about a party line. Claire must have hit the wrong button.” 

“No shit, I noticed. If you knew I was on here why didn’t you say anything?” John bit out, his annoyance at being found out obvious but also his fear that Allison might hold this over his head boiling in his chest. 

“I…don’t know. I guess…I thought…it might give you some insight into her feelings…but…I didn’t expect her to tell me a secret. And by then it was too late to call you out. I thought…it was just going to be…girl talk…not…best friend talk. I didn’t-” 

“Fine fine, it’s whatever, can we agree to never bring this up again? The last thing I need is Cherry thinking I’m some creepy perv who won't let her have any privacy or some bullshit.” 

“Yeah,” Allison whispered out and John sighed heavily, his eyes flicking to his bedroom door to make sure all the locks were set for the night. 

“So…you blew Sporto. I didn’t think you had it in you. It's always the quiet ones.” John chuckled lightly, trying to move the conversation away from the fact both of them had inadvertently broken Claire’s trust and moved towards safer waters that didn’t make him feel like utter shit. 

There was silence and John snorted, “Come on, Smiles. Details, details! You heard how my night went, I got blue balls the size of New Jersey, at least I can take comfort in knowing Jockstrap got some. I’m living vicariously through you two.” 

Allison gave a dark chuckle before she said with a cloying voice, “No details. It’s private. But yes, I did.” 

“And you liked it. Uh-huh, I heard what you said. And Sporto returned the favor. Tell me the Jockstrap was at least good enough to get you off! Don’t leave me hanging!” 

Allison sighed, “If I tell you, you swear not to give him any shit? Like, at all?” 

John held up a hand Allison couldn’t see, “Swear to God on my dead dog’s grave! Not a word.” 

“Okay…I didn’t…I didn’t get there. But Andy…he’s never done that before so…I mean…it was good and I REALLY liked it…but…we are going to have to…practice.” 

John leered into the phone, “Practice makes perfect, Smiles. Trust me, a few more tries and he’ll figure it out. Doesn’t take too long. It’s pretty straightforward.” 

Allison gave a blast of noise into the phone before a rather raunchy laugh left her throat and she asked, “Okay, then..what about you. Clarie doesn’t kiss-and-tell, but you do. So what actually happened?” 

John found himself going silent. He wasn’t above talking about his sexual exploits and he usually was an open book with his buddies when it was just some one-night stand or random fling. But Claire had kept her mouth shut, wanting to keep it private and now John felt like he needed to do the same. Why he suddenly couldn’t seem to bring himself to talk about it…he didn’t know. But Claire…she hadn’t shared so did he suddenly have the right to do that? 

“Uh…nothing exciting. We just fooled around.” 

“Did you get her off?” Allison asked with a rather wicked tone to her voice and John smirked, “I’ll say yes, but I am not giving details. Cherry kept her mouth shut on it so I figure I should do the same. For now at least.” 

“That’s…sweet of you.” Allison suddenly said softly, all licentious glee went from her voice and John swallowed, “Yeah, whatever. It's not a big deal. I gave her a taste of the possibilities. So-” 

“Wait…have you actually had sex before?” Allison asked suddenly and John’s mouth clamped shut for a moment. His eyes scanned over his room before he reached for a joint and preceded to lay down on his bed, the heel of his boot digging into the stained carpet of his floor as he debated. 

“Yes. I have. Can’t say the same for the rest of you apparently. I figured maybe Sporto but seems to me I’m the only one badass enough to bump uglies.” 

Allison then asked in a softer voice, “What’s it like?” she asks. 

John scoffed, “Like my experience would help you. I’m a guy, Smiles. It always feels good, but I’m the one dishing it out not receiving so…I can’t speak for the ladies I’ve-” 

“Was it a girlfriend?” 

“Uh…no. Just a rando.” 

“How old were you when you first did it?” Allison asked and John had to think back on that, his mind a little foggy about his first time. 

“Uh…maybe fourteen…my babysitter. She had the best-” 

“Wait…your babysitter? How old was she?” Allison asked suddenly, her voice taking on a far less impressed tone and one that sounded more confused and worried. 

“I don’t know…nineteen? She was a real peach, she had this rack that-” 

“John…that’s rape.” Allison barked suddenly and John sat up quickly, “Hey, shut up! The fuck you talking about?” 

Allison was silent and John felt his anger rising, her sudden use of that word making him recoil from their conversation like a Cobra ready to attack. 

“John…you were fourteen…if she was nineteen-” 

“Hey, it’s not rape if both parties are willing. I came on to her, and she was happy to oblige.” 

“But…you were just a kid,” Allison whispered. 

“What am I now? A duck? Fuck Smiles, perfectly good conversation going and you had to fuck it all up with bullshit about an age difference that doesn’t matter. It was four years ago, and I still see her on occasion. Don’t get this shit confused with something that ain't true!” 

Allison paused, and it was heavy, a silence impregnated with all the arguments she wanted to make but John just sighed and plopped back down onto his bed, “Look, I know what it sounds like. And I know in some cases that shit happens, I’ve seen that bullshit firsthand cause the area I live in isn’t fucking good. I know it’s a thing…but it didn’t happen to me. Got it?” 

Allison finally spoke, “Yeah. Sorry. I just…I thought…I mean…you don’t like to be touched-” 

“I don’t like to be touched cause my dad likes to belt me, Smiles. Not because I was molested as a kid. In fact, sex is the only time I like being touched. So don’t go confusing the two. My damage can’t be summed up by an experience I had with my hot-ass babysitter and her loose morals. She was probably one of the only reasons I didn’t run away or kill myself. She…made things bearable. I ain’t saying it’s right, hell I ain’t even saying it’s legal. But…at the time. It was the one thing that made me feel better and she…she was nice-” he wanted to end that sentence with a ‘to me' but that just sounded pathetic. 

Allison whispered out, “Yeah. I…get it.” 

“Look, can we forget I said it? You’re obviously uncomfortable with it. Which, is bullshit, by the way, considering that lovely little lie you told about your therapist on Saturday. I just…let’s fucking forget it. Okay?” 

He heard a sigh through the line but eventually, Allison responded, “So…what are you going to do about Claire? I mean…when the week is over?” 

John mused on that, much more comfortable now that they had moved on, “I don’t even know. We agreed on a week. The fine print says it’s a test drive. So, if Cherry likes what she sees we can agree to keep seeing each other. But I don’t really care either way. Long as I get to keep kissing her and touching her. She’s so soft, Smiles. Like silk or some shit. And warm…and always smells like coffee and cherries and shit. Sometimes like flowers. And she’s gentle…I like that…gentle as fuck. Even when she’s insulting me she’s smiling and shit. God, Smiles, she’s a dream.” 

Allison let off a squeak before asking softly, “So…if she doesn’t like the test drive…you’re just gonna let her go?” 

John grunted, “What else would I do? Lock her up in my basement like some sick pathetic fuck and try to make her like me? What do you think, Smiles? Course I’m gonna let her go. Jeeze, you’re stupid as shit.” 

“Don’t take out your frustration on me. If you don’t want her to go then make sure this week is perfect. And stop being such an asshole.” 

“Dude, I haven’t even done anything bad! And Sweets seems happy so I don’t think changing it up is gonna do anything but-” 

Suddenly a banging came at his door and John jerked up, moving off his bed and grabbing his switchblade, his chest heaving as he heard Allison call at him through the phone with concern. 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! GET OFF THE PHONE, JOHNNY! YOU’RE WASTING MONEY! GET YOUR ASS IN BED OR COME OUT HERE AND HELP ME FIX THE GOD DAMN TRUCK YOU LAZY LITTLE SHIT!” 

“I’m getting off!” John manages before he presses the phone back to his ear, “Gotta go, Allison. Talk to you tomorrow.” 

He hangs up before she can respond and stands in the corner near his desk holding his switchblade, thumb running along the edge of it reassuringly as he waits, hearing his dad retreat, swearing the whole way down the hall before a crash comes from the kitchen and John deflates. 

He slowly walks back over to his door and checks all the locks again, his fear simmering out as anger takes its place and he suddenly stabs his knife into the wood of his door and lets out of a soft grunt, “Fucking asshole.” 

Tuesday, March 28th, 7:05 a.m. 

Claire pulled into the parking lot of Shermer High earlier than she planned, but due to a few rather disturbing dreams she’d been unable to sleep any longer and so elected to leave early and stop to pick up breakfast. 

The dreams were the same thing over and over no matter how many times she woke up and went back to sleep. She’d be running around the school and her friends would be jeering and taunting her as she desperately searched for the Breakfast Club. When she couldn’t find them she’d go looking for John. Every time she turned a corner her friends or parents would be leering at her, and Brant would always be standing right behind her. 

It was a very obvious dream, her current pressures seemingly mounting overnight when Becca had explained Brant’s sudden interest. It didn’t take a psychologist to tell her why these dreams were happening, they were self-evident. So, around 5:30 she gave up and got out of bed. 

She’d grabbed some breakfast sandwiches and five small coffees with cream and sugar. She didn’t know if she would run into the other members of the club this morning as aside from her and John none of them had made plans to meet, but she figured it didn’t actually cost that much to grab extra coffee and food for them. 

She sat in her idling car and stared at the building, her mind wandering through the night before, her time with John as well as her conversation with Allison. She couldn’t seem to turn off her thoughts. 

After getting out of the shower, Claire had done her hair and make-up, as usual, only to spy the hickey on her neck and debate if she really wanted to cover it. She had gym today and knew she would have to change clothes in front of the other girls. She could hide the marks on her breast easy enough, but the one on her neck, if she wasn’t careful, could be exposed far too easily. 

She was unsure if it would be better to wear it proudly and play it off as no big deal or if covering it and checking to make sure the make-up was still in place throughout the day was the safer option. 

In the end, Claire left the mark exposed but had brought some make-up with her and wore one of her really nice cashmere turtle necks that were long enough to wear as a sweater dress. She’d added a brown leather belt, put on black leggings, and a pair of her leather ankle boots as well as a long necklace and her favorite bracelets. It pulled the outfit together and made the choice to wear a turtleneck seem purposeful. 

Becca already knew she had left with John last night, but hopefully, since her outfit would be presented as a whole set she’d be none the wiser. It was still cold out too, so a sweater dress wouldn’t make anyone think differently. 

As she sat in her car and sipped on her coffee she reached up a hand to adjust the rearview mirror and slowly pulled down the neck of her sweater, looking at the hickey which somehow seemed even darker in the light of day. 

I want to dig deep, take root and never let you go- 

A soft breath pushed past her lips as John’s voice sounded in her mind, Claire having been shocked when he’d said something so seductive yet eloquent. It made her think of Moliere. And Claire wondered if poets like Moliere really did “pump his nads” as John had so dismissively teased. 

Claire enjoyed poetry a lot. And while she wasn’t a huge Moliere fan, she had read some of his plays. The one little semi-poetic comment had made her a little crazy with lust and John had noticed. She wondered if he would use it to his advantage. Though Claire doubted John actually read poetry. 

Still, as she gazed at the mark he’d left on her throat she couldn’t help feeling like there was a lot more to him than she previously thought. And in her mind, she realized every person on this planet was more than just how they looked on the outside. Even Brian, who one would never think could be suicidal and who most likely had the most normal life of all of them, had enough pressure to drive him towards some desired end that would have removed him from this planet. 

Thank god he’d only brought in a flare gun. If he’d gotten his hands on a real gun, Claire didn’t want to think of what could have happened. 

So deep in thought was she that Claire jumped when the passenger side door of her car opened and John appeared out of nowhere and greeted her with a cheshire cat grin, “Hey Sweets, fancy meeting you here.” 

Before she could even speak he reached out and fisted gently at the front of her sweater, pulling her to him for a long and smooth kiss. Claire came eagerly, her mouth opening without hesitation now as her free hand came to cup his cheek. 

When they broke the kiss John pressed his forehead to hers and gave a soft sigh, “Damn I missed those soft lips of yours, Cherry.” 

Claire smiled and asked, “What are you doing here? You said 7:30.” 

John dragged his lips down her cheek and started kissing her jaw as he mumbled, “Change of plans. My old man wanted me to help him fix his truck. I’d rather be here than have him chucking wrenches at my head all day.” 

“Are you okay, you seem a little-” 

“Shh, not now, Cherry. Jesus, you smell good-” and he pulled at the neck of her sweater and Claire gasped and yanked back, her hand coming to press the fabric back into place as her eyes jumped from an alarmed John to the steering wheel. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“Hum? Oh, nothing, just…didn’t want you to stretch out the neck of my sweater, it’s cashmere, super expensive, and…ya know.” 

John eyed her suspiciously before his eyes flicked to the turtleneck and after a second a rather devious smile spread across his face, “Why Claire, are we hiding something?” 

Claire rolled her eyes and scoffed, playing it off as she adjusted the rearview mirror and wiped at a small amount of loose mascara under her left eye, “As if.” 

John suddenly reached out a hand and pulled down the turtleneck, exposing the dark hickey that rested on her skin and Claire jerked away, shoving the turtleneck up again and glaring at him, “Asshole.” she bit as she folded her arms and looked out her driverside window. 

The teen was undeterred by her snappy tone and leaned closer, “Let me see it-” he whispered, “I wanna see it.” his knuckle grazed down her cheek gently and Claire glanced at him despite her desire not to meet his eye. 

“Come on…it’s sexy as fuck. Let me see.” he purred, lips pressing to her jaw and his face nudging her head to the side as a hand came up to very gently pull down the fabric and expose the dark mark. 

“You must bruise easily, I barely sucked on you.” John said as he leaned in and placed a kiss on the mark, Claire letting off a soft moan before she licked her lips, “You should see my breast, it’s covered in them-” John pulled back, eyes huge as Claire met his gaze, “For real?” he asked in shock. 

Claire studied his face and realized that no, John had not, in fact, meant to leave any of the marks he did. Any faint anger that had been left over from the night before faded and a rather playful smile rolled across her mouth as she bit her bottom lip and gave one solid nod of her head. 

“Lemme see-” he urged suddenly, a hand coming to her knee where it messaged excitedly and Claire made a face, “Ew, no. Not in the car in front of the school, you creep.” and John actually whined a little, it was faint, more noise of frustration and regret than anything else as he looked at her with his sharp eyes. 

“Come on, one quick flash. I just…I gotta see it. I want to see-” 

“No. Maybe later, but definitely not here. Okay?” 

John grit his teeth and looked away, taking a slow deep breath before he said reluctantly, “Fine. Later. But…I wanna see before they are gone, cool?” 

Claire relaxed when he agreed to let it go for now and nodded, “Yeah. Okay. Promise.” 

John gave a faint nod and he cracked the window before he pulled out a cigarette, “Figured I’d get here early to smoke a bit before the other zombies arrived-” and now John was looking out all the windows, his eyes scanning before he sunk a little further down in the seat and reached out a finger to lock his door. 

Claire was still studying him, her eyes jumping all over him to see if there were any fresh signs of abuse. His sudden appearance and slight fidgeting presented a possibility of something bad having happened at his house. 

John looked back at her after a moment, seeing how she stared at him, he slowly leaned in and gave her a soft kiss only to sniff the air suddenly and ask, “I smell something delicious, where is it?”

When she didn’t find new marks on any of his visible flesh Claire sighed and reached into the backseat, pulling a large brown paper bag up and handing it to him, “I brought breakfast and coffee for the club, I wasn’t sure if anyone else would be here as early as me I just…wanted to do something nice.” 

John’s eyes, which had been looking into the bag at the breakfast sandwiches scanned up to her, his brow crunching together in thought before he said with a smirk, “Well ain’t you a true blue princess, taking care of your loyal subjects.” 

Claire only rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat, taking a sip of her coffee as John browsed the different types of hot breakfast sandwiches. Claire had already eaten hers so she wasn’t hungry but as John pulled one out she said, “There are two bacon and two sausages if the others don’t show up by 7:45 you can eat as many as you want.” 

“Fair.” John said as he unwrapped the sandwich and took a big bite, “There’s coffee too, I wasn’t sure if any of you drank it but-” 

“Liquid energy, my favorite…any of them black?” John asked looking at the drink tray which sat precariously between the seats. 

“All of them, cream and sugar is in the small bag by your feet.” and John shook his head, “I like it black as my soul, and bitter as my heart,” Claire smirked, once again noticing that hint of a poet that snuck out from time to time. She turned back to look at the school only to see Allison suddenly appear and look around by the stairs, “Oh-” and she rolled down her window and gave a faint honk of her horn before waving and Allison saw them from a distance and began to nervously walk over. 

John yelled across Claire out the window, “WE GOT FOOD, SMILES!” 

“Seriously?” Claire asked as John smiled wickedly up at her and wiggled his brows, Claire noticed that at the call of John’s voice Allison began to walk normally and was upon the car quickly. She opened the back door and slid in, John handing her the brown bag, “One bacon and two sausages, pick your poison. Compliments of our queen bee. You want coffee?” 

Allison nodded and took the bag, pulling out a sandwich without looking before setting it on the seat next to her and accepting a coffee cup from John, “Scream and sugar?” John asked as he handed her the smaller bag and Allison gave a grunt of a laugh before she took the extras and went about preparing her coffee. 

“Save some sugar for Andy and Brian, do you know if either of them is going to get here early?” Claire asked and Allison, without a word, pointed her finger up between the two in the front and they both looked to see Brian. 

He was near the same spot Allison had been, looking around hopefully and John swallowed another large bite, “Brain on three ladies-” and he rolled down his window further and as he counted down with his fingers, Claire and Allison leaned their heads out of their perspective windows, “BRAIN!” They all yelled and the blonde boy looked over. 

Three arms waved out of the windows and they could see the smile spread across his face as he walked over. 

The process was repeated as Brian entered the other side of the car, the small mustang just barely accommodating the four teenagers, three bookbags, the food, and the coffee. Brian grabbed a sandwich but said no thank you to the coffee as it made him jittery at which John scoffed and teased lightly. 

“Where’s Andy?” Brian asked. 

"You and Sporto make plans to meet this mornin'?" John asked. 

Allison nodded, "7:30." 

"This is good. Where'd you get these?" Brian asked, holding up his sandwich to Claire in thanks. 

"There's this early morning bakery off the main drag, it's wedged between Happy Pete's and the tanning salon downtown. I found it last year when I was shopping." 

"It's real good," Brian repeated as he took another bite. 

"Boyfriend!" Allison suddenly barked at she pointed again but this time more towards the parking lot where Andy was pulling in. Claire handed John her coffee and got out of the car, waving towards him and Andy swung his truck around and came to pull up next to Clarie’s side of the car, dropping his window as Allison somehow managed to shift in the tiny back seat, Brian moving things quickly to accommodate her. 

She tossed him the last sandwich which he caught and Claire asked, “Coffee?” 

Andy reached out across the way as Claire handed him a cup, their cars just close enough they could reach, “Are we all here?” he asked in surprise. 

“Yup, even Brian,” Claire said. 

“It’s kinda cold but you wanna jump in the back?” Andy asked, motioning to the short bed of his truck. It was a four-door, with a short bed, like Claire’s car the cab was able to accommodate four somewhat comfortably but a fifth person was about its limit. 

Claire looked to the group in her car and they all nodded, “Tailgate party!” John cheered and everyone got out, Claire turning off her car and rolling up their windows. 

Everyone clambered into the bed of Andy’s truck, eating their sandwiches, drinking their coffee, and chatting happily. 

“So what happened with Stubby?” Brian asked and all eyes turned to Andy who swallowed a bite of the sandwich slowly and sighed, “Not much. Just asked what’s up.” 

“And?” Clarie asked suddenly. 

“I told him I met her Saturday, she’s really cool, I really like her and we are dating seriously. And if he or anyone else has a problem with it they can bite me.” 

Allison leaned against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his right one as she smiled, “And?” Brian pushed. 

“He said okay and left. No one else has asked about it. And no one seems to care. I think we’re in the clear.” 

Suddenly everyone looked to Claire who froze with her coffee cup pressed to her lips, as she lowered the cup she asked softly, “What?” 

“Are you and Bender officially dating?” Andy asked, Brian, glancing between nervously. 

“I…well…I mean…I tried…to tell Becca that we were serious and…just kind of…exploring the possibility but she…she assumes I’m slumming it.” Claire managed, her eyes looking down at the ground and Andy shook his head, “Damn it, Claire. Stop letting Becca walk all over you. Now the whole school is going to think you're slumming it! You’ve just made the whole thing harder on yourself cause after this week if you guys keep dating-” 

“What was I supposed to do!? I told her multiple times and she didn’t believe me! And she was crazy insulting towards John! I tried to…defend him-” and she glanced at John who had been silent, once again defying all of their expectations of him. None of them knew that John had been well aware of how hard Claire had actually tried to defend him. 

“Look, the more you let them narrate the story the more it’s going to blow up in your face when you don’t do what they expect. That’s why I was clear with Stubby when he asked, straight to the point and-” 

“Don’t be mean.” Allison suddenly said, “It’s different for girls.” 

Andy made a face, “What do you mean?” 

“Girls are meaner, and it’s different if Claire dates John than if you date me. It’s cool if a guy wants to slum it, but if a girl does…well…suddenly she’s a slut. You’re a hero for taking pity on me and I bet anything your guy friends think you’re only with me to get some cheap pussy.” 

“No way-” Andy said angrily but John spoke up, “No? Come on Sporto, I bet if you ask your pod of athletic dumbasses they’ll say the same thing Smiles did. Have fun with her and bring us a good story.” 

“Fuck off, Bender.” Andy barked and Allison placed a hand on his shoulder, “It’s true. And you know it. It’s going to be even harder for Claire to make people understand she genuinely likes John.” 

Brian slid a little closer to John who eyed him as he did as Brian asked, “Well what about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“Have any of your stoner friends asked questions?” 

John snatched the last bit of Brian’s sandwich out of his hand and shoved it in his mouth, “The people I smoke with don’t give two fucks. That’s all they are, smoking buddies. We don’t hang out outside of school and barely hang out inside of school. When we do it’s to smoke up and pass around nudie mags. I don’t have to worry about that bullshit.” 

“No?” Andy asked and John made a face as he swallowed, “No.” Andy pointed, John’s eyes narrowing as he turned to look over his shoulder and saw two of his smoking buddies walking up towards the car. 

“Oh, fuck me.” John bit as he swiftly turned and jumped down to the ground, holding out his arms as the pair walked up and he turned them around, “Let’s go this way, fuck stains.” keeping them clear of the breakfast Club and far away from Claire. 

“Saw that coming a mile away.” Andy said and they all looked at him, “Saw what coming?” Brian asked. 

Andy nodded his head towards Claire, “What?” she asked, her eyes looking away to see John talking with the pair from a distance. 

“If word got out that Bender’s hanging around you, how long did you think it would take for his burnout buddies to come sniffing for handouts.” 

“What do you mean?” Brian inquired as he too looked back at the three guys standing away. 

“Drugs cost money, dude. And everyone knows Claire’s family is loaded. They might not be the type to give two shits who John dates, but they wouldn’t be above trying to cozy up to John or you in order to get money. If they think John has an in with you, they might think he can get money from you too. Drugs galore for days.” 

Claire swallowed as she looked away, her eyes filling with worry and at the sound of raised voices they all looked at John who had one of the guys by his shirt, “Fuck off, you don’t come near her or talk to her, you don’t bother her. I find out you did and it won’t be me coming for you, it’ll be Clark .” 

The pair of guys looked at the truck and Andy, without flinching, waved casually and the two guys nodded. John shoved one away and the pair wandered off towards the school. John watched them go for a minute before he turned and came back to the truck, climbing back into the bed as he said in a rather adult voice, “Sorry children, daddy had to swat some flies. Where were we?” 

“What did they want?” Claire asked softly and John looked at her, his jaw clenching before he slid next to her along the edge of the truck bed's rim and placed an arm over her shoulder, “Don’t worry. They won’t bother you. I made it clear you’re off-limits. Thanks for backing me, Sporto.” John said, glancing at Andy who nodded. 

Brian sighed and all eyes turned to him, “What has our little apple dumpling down?” John asked as he poked the side of Brian’s head gently. 

“Nothing. Just wish I could back you too. I’m not exactly the most intimidating. It kind of sucks. I hate being this skinny and small.” 

“Eh, don’t feel sorry for yourself. What you lack in brawn you make up for in brain. You’re smarter than all of us. That counts for something.” Andy said. 

Allison nodded and Claire reached out and squeezed his hand before she leaned back, “Speaking of, any chance you could help me with my science homework? I’ll pay you.” 

Brian eyed her a moment before he smiled, “If I’m helping you get the hang of it so you can do it yourself it’s five bucks an hour for three hours every other night. If I’m doing it for you it costs extra.” 

The group was silent and stared at him with shocked expressions before Brian smirked, “If I’m going to be stuck doing other people’s work I might as well get paid.” Brian said with a shrug and John slapped his back, “We got a regular Entrepreneur here! How much you make a week?” 

Brian blushed and looked down as he said softly, “Not much. 105.” 

“Holy shit, really?” Andy asked and Brian met his gaze and gave a soft nod as the rest of the club laughed or shook their heads in shock. 

“That’s it! Let’s go get chow tonight! On Brian!” John said, abandoning Claire to slide right up next to Brian and wrap his arms around the smaller boy, “What ya say, Brainy boy? Take pity on us poor and less fortunate. Buy us dinner! Sally’s Diner! I’ll even throw in a bag of weed as a post-dinner dessert!” 

Brian looked from Bender to all the others and Andy shrugged, “Coach is still out. My dad thinks I’ll be doing solo training so I’m game to bail for another night.” 

Allison nodded and Claire did too as Brian said, “I have Mathletes.” 

“Noooo, what you have Brian, is an opportunity.  An opportunity with a group of friends who would like your company. Don’t ditch us again like yesterday. Be cool, fuck school.” John prompted as he finally let Brian go and plopped his hand onto Brian’s head and cranked his face to look at him, “Come on Champ. Don’t you want to live a little? Be a bad boy.” 

“Do it!” Allison suddenly barked before covering her smile with a hand and Andy chuckled, “Come on, man. Bail and come hang out with us.” Andy encouraged with a sly smile. 

Claire reached into her purse and pulled out her dad’s credit card, “You buy dinner, I’ll pay for a movie.” 

John instantly looked from Claire to Brian with crazy eyes, “I haven’t been to a movie in four fucking years, don’t let me down Brain, or do you not wanna have my back?” 

Brian smirked, “Alright. Let’s do it!” 

“It’s a date!” Bender said as he slapped Brian’s back harshly and jumped from the bed of the truck, “Come on sweets, I wanna suck face before the bell rings!” John said, holding out his hand to her. 

“Don’t be gross!” Claire snapped angrily as she stood and gathered her things, “See you guys inside. And we’re not going to suck face.” 

“Says you!” Bender snorted and Claire rolled her eyes. 

“Thanks for Breakfast!” Brian called, “Yeah, thanks, Claire!” Andy yelled and the red-head nodded as Allison snorted, “They are totally going to suck face.” 

Claire heard the other three continue to chitter after they left and she pulled her hand from John’s, the longer-haired youth turning to look at her, “Why do you have to be so gross?” she asked, they kept walking through and after a moment John snatched up her hand again, threading his fingers through hers. 

“Not gross, just addicted to those pouty lips of yours, Sweets. Come on, I wanna taste ‘em.” Claire tried to hide her smirk as they headed towards the side of the building. 

“Hey, um…what did those two guys want?” Claire asked. 

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” John said, his tone a little harsher than normal and though Claire knew better she pressed, “Did they want you to get money from me?” 

Just as they turned the corner of the building he stopped and gently pressed her against the brick, glancing around real quick to make sure there weren’t any unwanted eyes on them. 

“I said don’t worry about it. Just listen to me and let it go.” he leaned in as if to kiss her and Claire’s fingers came to his lips, his eyes opening as she said, “You can tell me. And honestly, I’d rather know. I told you yesterday, that I don’t want to be the person things happen to. I want some say in the matter. So what did they want?” 

John let out the most frustrated sigh, looking around again as his hands came to gently knead at her hips, “Fine. Yeah. They wanted me to ask you for money, for drugs, cause they’re broke and they figured I could get some cash off ya.” 

Claire smiled, her hand coming up to cup the back of his head, “Thanks for being honest with me, John.” and she pulled him down for a kiss, something hungry and yet so very content. She already knew what they wanted, Andy had made it clear and she tended to believe his logic because it made sense. 

She had been hoping John wouldn’t lie to her about it and she was glad he had elected to be truthful. He pressed himself more firmly against her, their tongues dancing as he hummed and dominated her mouth and attention for the next few minutes. 

Eventually, Claire pulled back but John chased her lips, she turned her head and so he grunted and pulled at her turtleneck, his mouth sinking down to the hickey and Claire gave a faint gasp, “Don’t make it worse.” she whispered desperately. 

“Mmm, I’m gonna make it way worse, I want it to stain your skin for the rest of the week. A mark of my affections where everyone can see.” 

Claire’s brow furrowed, “J-John…do you read poetry?” he stilled, his head pulled away from her neck as he looked at her incredulously, “What the fuck kind of question is that?” 

“Nothing, Nevermind,” she said, meeting his eyes and biting her bottom lip, clearly hitting a sore spot though she couldn’t help feel like something was up. He had a surprisingly large vocabulary, and on occasion knew words that surprised her. He seemed pretty articulate too and could string sentences together that reminded her all too often of poetry. 

Maybe he doesn’t read poetry….maybe he just reads in general. I guess I’ve made some pretty shitty assumptions about his intelligence and I didn’t even really realize I was doing it. 

John went to say something but the bell rang and he scoffed, “Figures. Head on it. I’m gonna grab a smoke real quick before class.” Claire nodded, letting go of his hand only when she could no longer hold on to it, and rounded the corner. She joined the flood of kids entering the school, eyes looking back to see Andy’s truck was deserted and so moved forward to seek out the others in the halls. 

Page Break 

John slammed his locker shut, eyeing Claire who was standing with Allison while Becca and another girl were talking to her. His hackles raised. The bell that signaled the start of Home Room had already rung and he still hadn’t gotten his kiss. 

Normally he’d shrug it off, after all, he’d gotten a few good kisses before Claire went inside, but he did not like Becca and he didn’t like the look on Allison’s face. He started to head towards them but stopped when he saw Allison lock eyes with him and give the faintest shake of her head. 

He reluctantly leaned his back against the lockers, crossing his arms and eyeing them casually as the last of the stragglers disappeared into the Home Room. John tried to remember what classes he had today while he waited. 

Yesterday I had History with Allison, bullshit Civics, Biology with Brian, and English Lit with Sporto. So…yesterday was an A day. Today is a B-day. Which means it’s Home Room, Shop Class, Gym, Math and Computer Science. I haven’t been to math class since school started. I never go to Gym. And Brian is in my Computer Science class….wait…what math class does Claire have? Do I fucking have Math with her? I’ve never gone…but I can’t imagine she’s much better at math than me or Sporto or Smiles. Maybe better than Sporto…she might actually be in my- 

The sound of Allison literally barking met his ears and he glanced over to see Becca and the other girl moving away quickly as Claire held a hand over her mouth looking utterly shocked. The smile that filled John’s face was so very satisfying and Allison stopped barking and looked at him, her own gleeful smile rather content as she turned back to Claire, grabbing the girl’s hand. 

She pulled her down the hall towards John before letting her go and continuing to walk, leaving Claire to stare after her, “What the hell.” Claire whispered and John leaned in and surprised her with a short kiss, “Must not have liked what they were saying to you, Sweets. Those are the kind of friends you really want. The kind that chases off the monsters. You can thank her later. See you at lunch.” 

He turned and headed to his Home Room. Satisfied he got his kiss and got to watch Allison bark at Becca like a dog. No doubt they’d give the pair a wide berth now. As he went to enter his Home Room he caught Andy giving a long slow kiss to Allison, the pair standing under one of the stairwells. 

John checked the hall for authority figures before he gave a quick but soft whistle. The pair looked at him and John motioned for Andy to come over. He said something to Allison before the girl headed off to her Home Room and Andy quickly walked over, “What is it, Bender?” he sounded only slightly annoyed but John just smiled, “Your girlfriend is a peach. Chased off Becca by barking like a dog. You don’t marry that basket case I’ll never forgive you.” 

Andy tried to hide his snort of a laugh before John gently smacked his chest, “What’s your second class, Sporto?” 

Andy leaned against the wall next to the door and said softly, “Gym. With Brian.” 

John thought about it a moment before he said, “Me too if I come, you two gonna be cool?” John asked. 

Andy stared at him in surprise before he smirked, “Hell yeah. Count on it. I usually bail on the dumb aerobics crap and Mr. Brunes lets me go pump iron. I…promised Brian I’d teach him to lift.” 

John laughed, “Good fucking luck. I’ll meet you outside the locker room.” 

Andy nodded only to grab his shoulder, “Wait, you never go to gym. You got clothes?” 

John gave him a quizzical stare, “Right. Whatever. See you then.” Andy turned and left and John ducked into his Home Room. 

Shop class was normal, he joined his usual group, working on learning to wire radios, nothing exciting but better than freaking civics. 

When Shop was over he waved away their calls to join them for a smoke out back and headed for the gym. Normally he wouldn’t be caught dead in gym class. The workout clothes they had to wear were dumb as hell and since he smoked nearly a pack a day running wasn’t really his thing. But every class yesterday that he’d gone to with one of them in it made everything seem less horrible. And honestly, he’d rather see Brian and Andy than get blazed at the moment. 

You’ve lost your goddamn mind, Bender. 

He waited for a minute or two outside of the locker room but didn’t see Andy. He was about to say fuck it when he heard Andy’s familiar voice echo out from the entryway and rolled his eyes. John eased his way into the locker room, avoiding the large group of guys that Andy was standing with and spied Brian minding his own business off to the side. John got his attention and waved him over, “What’s up with Jockstrap, he was supposed to meet me outside?” John asked and Brian shrugged, “Kyle yanked him in and away from me. He didn’t have much of a choice."

John gave a nod of understanding before he leaned onto the lockers and flicked the back fo Brian’s head, “Dude, you got a spare t-shirt or some shit?” his eyes continued to jump from Brian to the group who had not noticed them yet. He saw Andy’s unease, his own eyes flicking towards the door and no doubt waiting for John to walk in. 

They’d just missed each other but John wasn’t going to hold it against him….yet. He’d know in the next ten minutes if Andy was going to be good to his word.  

Brian shook his head, “No, but check the lost and found. There is a bunch of stuff in there that’s most likely your size. Might even have some sweat pants so you don’t have to wear these dumb shorts.” 

John winked at him, “The man knows.” and he quickly moved towards the office where the coach for the male sports usually was. Being out with shingles, the coach was nowhere to be found so John poked his head in and spied a massive cardboard box behind his desk. He rolled across the floor, imitating James Bond and looking around only to spy Brian leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed, “Dude, it’s Lost and Found. No one cares.” 

“You take the fun out of everything, dweeb,” John said as he kneeled next to the box and rooted through it. The Brain was right, there was a pair of work out sweats and a plain black t-shirt that looked around his size. 

He grabbed them both and as he approached Brian he held them up, “They smell funky to you?” 

Brian made a face of disgust and John gave a gawf of a laugh as he smashed them into Brian’s face, the blonde youth waving him away and stumbling back, falling over and landing in a crumpled pile on the floor. 

John stared at him with confusion before he raised the clothes to his face and sniffed, “They’re fine, Ahab. Jees, what a wuss.” he reached out a hand and Brian flinched, John’s jaw tightening as he waited. Brian looked up and blushed, “Sorry. Old habits.” he took John’s hand and was yanked to his feet, “Sure whatever. I never wailed on you before.” John said with annoyance as he headed to a stall. 

“Doesn’t mean you won't ever do it. Right?” Brain asked as he followed John into the sequestered toilet stalls on the far side of the locker room. 

“Nah. I like you too much now. Might punch ya, but won’t wail on you.” John said as he took off his denim jacket. 

“What a relief.” Brian offered sarcastically. 

He removed his plaid button-down and then stopped, the dark blue long sleeve underneath the last shirt as he turned to look over his shoulder, “Hey, Brainy-” 

Brian, who had been gazing at the floor in thought looked at him, “Hm? What?” 

“You mind? I’m changing. Fuck off.” and though his tone wasn’t angry Brian swallowed, “Oh right, s-sorry. I’ll be…over…somewhere.” and he turned and left. 

John rolled his eyes and shook his head. Yanking off his last shirt before he grabbed up the black t-shirt and threw it on. Checking the smell again he shrugged as he had little choice if he wanted to get away with being here. He kicked off his boots and slid out of his pants fast, yanking on the sweats before shoving his feet back in his boots. He left on his gloves and looked himself over. 

Better than those fucking booty shorts and tank tops the fuck heads wear for track. 

He grabbed up the rest of his clothes and was heading out towards the lockers when he heard voices raising in the low ceiling locker room, “I got him, Andy, pants the fucker!” 

“Dude, let him go!” 

“And-ery!” and John leaned heavily against the end row of lockers, realizing without seeing what was happening. 

“Fuck.” he whispered. Not at all wanting to deal with this right now. Contrary to what everyone thought of him, John did not like violence and he did not like fighting. He got enough of that at home. Truth be told, the only reason he came to school before this past Saturday was because it was one of the few places he could go where the violence and fighting were minimal. Sure, people tussled a little, and generally speaking, they were pricks and assholes. But John had never left school covered in bruises or with a bloody nose. 

He did like a rumble every now and then but right now he just wasn’t in the mood to play tough guy. It was annoying and exhausting. Usually while at school he could act tough, with very little repercussion. It usually was enough to keep people away and it was very rare anyone picked a fight with him. But this moment…damn it…he didn’t want to have to- 

“I said let him go, Kyle.” came Andy’s hard tone. 

“Why? He your new boyfriend?” 

“Fuck off! Let him fucking go before I put you on the floor.” 

“I don’t like this new you, man. You’ve been acting fucking weird.” 

“Too bad. This is me now. And I don’t pick on people weaker than me. Now, Let. Him. Go.” 

John grit his teeth and hoped the group had diminished from the large one it had been earlier as he rounded the lockers and came sauntering out to stand next to Andy. 

He counted quickly, one had Brian in a chokehold, his face turning a deep red and there were four others near him, waiting. 

“Do I detect a hint of stupidity?” John asked as he brought up an elbow to rest on Andy’s shoulder. He could see how tense Andy was, every muscle in his body pulled tight and ready to jump into the fray. If a fight broke out, as much as John would love an excuse to wail on these fuck heads, he really didn’t want to. 

He was good at bluffing and this seemed like the perfect opportunity, “Seems unfair, doesn't it?” John asked Andy and he looked at John, his eyes filled with calm anger that John could feel emanating from him, “Only five of them and two of us? That’s unfair. Might want to call for some backup boys.” 

"Fuck off, Bender, this doesn't have anything to do with you." One of the boys said. 

"Actually it does, asswipe. The Brain is my friend too. And he currently can't breathe, so you either let him go or I shove my foot so far up your ass you'll be spitting teeth." 

The guy holding Brian looked down at the smaller kid's face and saw how red he looked and so eased his hold, Brian gasping for air as the bigger boy scoffed, "Ain't even worth it. Woulda been over sooner if you had just pantsed the little bitch." And he shoved Brian away, the blonde stumbling into John and Andy who caught him. 

The small group of guys walked away, talking shit under their breath and Brian rubbed at his neck nervously, "Sorry." Brian mumbled. 

"For what? They were the assholes." Andy said, turning to look at Brian's throat but not touching him. 

“I should have left as soon as I was dressed but I was thinking and not paying attention and bumped right into Reed." 

John nuggied Brian's head, "Well, pay attention Brain-o. We might not be there next time to watch your back. Wouldn't want another freak bun taping accident." And John gave an amused chuckle and looked at Andy. 

"Fuck off, Bender." 

The three started walking out and John just shrugged dramatically, "I'm just saying, the evils of bun taping is a real threat to our youth. Didn't you watch the video in sex ed?" 

Brian was chuckling softly and Andy groaned, "I said shut up, man!" 

They somehow made it away from the rest of the kids and to the weight room without incident and as the hour progressed Andy explained all the weight machines and how to use them to Brian. John wasn’t a huge lifter by any means but he knew the basics and so while Andy did his little song and dance for Brian John went to a weight bench and put on some basic weights (about fifty pounds altogether) and started to use the bench press. 

He wasn’t very comfortable. Doing this left him exposed. But at the moment they were the only three in the weight room and despite everything it kind of felt good to use his muscles in this way. He kept swiveling his head lightly, nervous about being on his back with his chest and stomach open to attack but after a while when his muscles started to burn he focused on the bar above him and really started to press. 

It was odd being here like this. Normally he’d be too shy to try this, to put himself out there, but Andy had looked over and as he was explaining the leg press to Brian John had motioned without a word to the bench press and two twenty-five pound weights and to his surprise, Andy only nodded. 

He didn’t give Bender any shit about how light the amount was or that he was going to give it a shot. A silent mutual acceptance of Bender admitting the fact he wasn’t as strong as he acted and Andy wasn’t going to say a word about it. 

He was about fifty pumps in when Andy came into view, the athlete leaving Brian to do some leg pumps and wandering over to stand above John and look down. 

“Feeling good? Do you want more weight?” he asked, all levity or jokes absent and John studied him as he let out a harsh breath through his nose. 

“Nah, I’m good. Big surprise, but I’m not that strong.” John’s eyes left Andy’s as he felt heat come to his cheeks. 

“Don’t get pissed but I kind of figured it out. Last Saturday…I pinned you pretty easily. The fact that you aren’t a wrestler helped but if you were as strong as you pretended you probably would have been able to toss me off before I got you to the ground.” and Andy was rubbing at the back of his head as well, guilt in his eyes and John scoffed. 

“If it were life and death it would have been different. I can pin my old man when I need to.” John managed and Andy carefully brought his hands under the bar, not touching it but spotting John as the older boy’s arms were starting to shake a little. 

“That’s just adrenaline. Get enough of that pumping through your muscles and Brian could pin you if he was scared enough.” 

“I’m not scared of my old man!” John barked out as he suddenly shoved the bar up and set it on the holders. Andy crossed his arms over his chest and bit right back, “Bullshit, you’re as scared of yours as I am of mine. Only difference is all my old man does is yell at me until I submit.” he then rounded the bench and stood before Bender, the older boy looking up at him defiantly. 

“Aw, boo-hoo, poor baby gets yelled at,” John said snidely as he looked away. 

Andy, to John’s surprise, didn’t get defensive or mad at John’s obvious dismissal but he did say in a rather low voice, “Just because your dad is worse than mine, doesn’t mean it’s any less shitty having to deal with him.” 

John went to snap back a sharp whatever, but he glanced at Andy and saw his face wasn’t filled with any sort of animosity and so literally bit his bottom lip to stop himself, his hands fisting tightly as he gave a reluctant nod of understanding. 

“Look, I get it. You’re defensive about everything and towards everyone because you expect everyone to be as nasty as him. But the truth is, your old man is a one-off. There are more good people than bad. It doesn’t seem like it, but it’s true. Give me a little of your trust, dude. I’ve earned it. And I’ll give you some of mine. And…if you can put your dick head bullshit aside, I’ll teach you some moves that will really put your old man on the floor. No matter how drunk or pissed he is.” 

John’s head snapped to look at him, eyes wide, “What, you expect me to roll around on a mat with you dressed like a male stripper?” 

Andy smirked ruefully and shook his head as he chuckled, “No. But I can show you how to drop him, pin him and if need be…dislocate his shoulder. Make him think twice before stepping on you.” 

John gave a rather wicked smirk, “I like that sound of that, Sporto.” 

“Clark?” came a soft call from the door and the pair looked over to see Mr. Gauff, the gym teacher staring at the three in confusion. 

“Don’t freak, I got this.” Andy said softly as the man walked over his with a clipboard in hand, “What do we have here?” Mr. Gauff asked, his eyes jumping between John and Brian, the blonde boy having frozen mid-press to stare in concern at the adult. 

“Just teaching Johnson and Bender some proper lifting techniques, sir. They are interested in weight lifting” Andy said, his tone respectful and calm. 

“.....that’s….unexpected.” Mr. Gauff said as he looked between the unlikely trio. 

Mr. Gauff then zoned in on John, the older boy’s fist’s tightening again and Andy softly cleared his throat, giving the most subtle shake of his head which John caught before he looked directly at Mr. Gauff, “Well, it’s a little late in the semester but if you have an interest in weights far be it from me to discourage you. I’ll make sure to note and give approval for you and Johnson to train here but since I can’t verify your experience I would prefer you come with Mr. Clark. Okay? At least for the next few weeks until you get a better understanding of the machines and your weight limits. And no one lifts alone, for safety reasons, deal?” 

Mr. Gauff’s voice was kind and he didn’t hold any derision or suspicion and John relaxed instantly and said with a surprised tone, “Uh…sure…yes…sir?” 

“Great. Good to see you in class, Mr. Bender. Oh, given your height you may want to have Mr. Clark extend this bench a smidge, don’t want to hurt your back or hips. Good day, Gentleman.” 

With that, Mr. Gauff turned, giving a soft wave to Brian as he left and headed back to the main gym. John watched him go, the swell of anxiety in his stomach settling a little as he asked, “What…just happened?” 

“You got approval for special use of the weight room. And you had a civil conversation with a teacher. Feels pretty nice to not have an adult bite your head off, huh?” Andy asked with a smirk. 

“Yeah,” John said softly, his tone evident of someone deep in thought. Andy noticed and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Amazing how chill an adult can be when you don’t instantly attack them or assume the worst. Might be good to learn when they are actually being nice versus when they are being dicks. More often than not, they don’t have it out for you.” 

John finally looked up at him, the older boy pressing Andy’s hand off his shoulder gently as he said softly, “Don’t touch me, and okay Mr. Goody-two-shoes…I’ll…keep that in mind.” 

Andy sighed softly but gave a nod before a weak voice called to them, “Uh, guys….help….I can’t…move my legs!” John and Andy looked over to see Brian with a bright red face, trembling legs that were frozen mid press, and hands gripping handles tightly. 

“Shit.” Andy huffed as he beelined over and placed one hand on the press and another under Brian’s knees, “Okay, I have most of the weight, let off slowly.” 

John returned his gaze to the doorway, still slightly surprised Mr. Gauff hadn’t made him leave. 

When class ended, he’d changed quickly, allowing Brian and Andy to change with him in the same area as before but going into a stall to change in private. The last thing he needed was them to see his scars.

The bell rang and the three headed for the cafeteria, John dying for a smoke after a small amount of exercise and telling them he’d meet them inside. He was about to exit the main set of doors when a hand came to his arm and he spied Claire standing there with a small smile, “Hey.” she said softly. 

John’s arms dropped instantly and he turned to look at her, “Gonna go smoke, care to join me?” he asked softly, his eyes looking at her face and his heart beating a little harder. 

She shook her head softly and said, “I have to sit with the girls today. We have a project due tonight for the activities board…it’s for prom. I need to be there. I just…wanted to let you know…I’m not…I mean…I’d rather sit with you guys but-” 

“Ah, the pretty princess is being summoned by her royal subjects to oversee the party plans. That right?” 

Claire gave a soft nod, her eyes locking with his and a tension boiling between them. It never failed, if they were apart for too long, well, it seemed their hormones jumped when they were finally back together. 

He hadn’t seen her since they arrived at school, and his desire to touch her was like fire on his skin. It annoyed him to no end that she wasn’t going to sit with them…well….with him…but…her excuse was solid and she looked rather annoyed at the situation. 

“Mm, go be prom queen. I’ll catch you later.” and he leaned in, Claire instantly tilting her head up to receive his lips and he frenched her hard, a hand coming to cup the back of her head as he moved closer, a hand coming to her lower back to pull her against him. 

She hummed and her hand came to press under his coat and message at his side. When he pulled back he asked, “We still hanging out tonight? Dinner and a movie?” 

“Yeah. But after school, I have to go to the auditorium for an activities meeting and the presentation to the board. It won’t take long. Think you guys can wait for me? Or do you want me to meet you-” John kissed her again, not wanting to miss the opportunity and when he finally let her go he said, “We’ll wait for you. But no ducking out.” 

“As if.” Claire scoffed and John smirked, “Yeah. As if. See you later.” Claire nodded, giving one more peck to his lips before she turned and headed for the cafeteria. 

John smoked quickly, wanting to get back to the lunchroom to discuss tonight’s plans with the others. It had been so long since he’d been to a movie, and he hadn’t been out to eat in ages. He was actually excited. He wanted to make sure his crew knew the game plan because he wasn’t going to let Clarie’s friends abduct her. That's totally something they would do, freaking fuck-heads. 

When he strode into the cafeteria Brian flagged him down, Allison and Andy already there with their lunches. 

“No lunch?” Andy asked, eyeing him a little harder and John said in an annoyed tone, “I’m on a diet. Gotta keep my figure.” 

Andy sighed and reached into his bag, pulling out a banana and sliding it over to him. John stared at it a moment, his head cocking to the side, “The fuck?” and he looked up only to see Brian drop an apple next to the banana just as Allison slid him a pudding pack as Andy added a soda to the pile. 

“Are we collecting for charity?” John asked in a rather mocking tone. 

“Just shut up and eat dickwad, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on with you. You wanna act proud, that's fine, but only an idiot turns down free food, even if he has money to buy his own.” and Andy settled back into digging through his large brown bag as Allison slid a chip into her mouth and Brian avoided eye contact as he poured yet another round of soup from his thermos. 

John let out a long harsh sigh through his nose, leaning back a bit before he looked at the food and his stomach growled angrily. 

Anger boiled, he didn’t want fucking pity and he didn’t want their fucking food. He could take care of himself and he didn't want to be someone's charity case. His knuckles popped as his fingers balled into fists on the table and he closed his eyes counting backward from ten. 

So far today had been a good day, he’d gotten attention from his Cherry, and they’d hung out before school. He’d had breakfast and coffee and he hadn’t gotten into any fights. Mr. Gauff had been chill and he actually had plans tonight that made him excited. 

But this was the second time Andy had called him out on his home life and he was kind of getting sick of it. The three at the table stilled as they watched him, brows furrowing and bodies tensed as they weren’t sure what he was going to do. 

Don’t get mad, they’re your friends...don’t get mad...don’t get mad…

“Thanks.” and while he had to force it out and it left a bad taste on his tongue he cracked his neck to ease the strain of his anger and grabbed the banana. 

“I’ll get you back,” John said as he peeled the banana and broke it into several pieces before popping some into his mouth. 

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Andy said nonchalantly. 

John scoffed, “No. I said I’ll get you back. I’m not a charity case.” 

“You’re our friend idiot, it’s just...a thing...sharing...like normal fucking people do,” Andy said as he hunched over the table and kept his voice low. 

John’s eyes glanced between the three, Allison and Brian nodding in agreement and he motioned to the items before him, “So...this...we’re cool? It’s...a gift?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied their faces. 

“Sure. It’s a gift.” Andy said softly and John looked to the other two who nodded, “Cool.” he said slowly, “A gift it is then.” and he went back to eating, now goblin the items down and the anger in his chest cooling when he understood the situation.

He didn’t see the slightly worried and mildly confused look his three friends passed between them but as Allison went to speak John finished a large swig of his coke and set it down harshly on the table before letting out a loud belch, “Fan-fucking-tastic. The three wisemen come bringing gifts.” he murmured to himself, snatching up the pudding cup and shoving it in the pocket of his ripped up cargo pants.

Brian smirked as he took a sip from his apple juice before a thought occurred to him and he asked tentatively, “So, we still on for tonight? I mean, Claire’s not sitting with us…do you think she bailed?” 

John scoffed, “Nah, I talked to her before I came in, she has to sit with her bitches today because of some activities thing or some shit. Presenting prom crap to the board of assholes.” 

He looked up, meeting Andy's eye when the dusty brunette scoffed, "What a load of crap. The Juniors and Seniors are supposed to plan their own prom but every year they make the Sophomores do it under the pretext of "selecting the next Junior board members." It's all bullshit. They're just lazy and wanna make the underclassmen do all the work." 

John grunted, "Big surprise."

The question was posed about what movie they would see later that night and the group of four launched into the discussion.

“What about Claire, she isn’t here to vote,” Allison said. 

“Knowing her, she’ll want to see Sixteen Candles or Romancing the Stone .” Andy quipped. 

Brian and John chuckled and Allison looked nauseous, “Well, the Princess isn’t here so she will be subject to the group's opinion. I say, The Terminator.” John offered. 

“No way dude, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom just came out.” Andy countered. 

“I want to see Ghostbusters… or Star Trek, The Search for Spock,” Brian said. 

“The search for who?” John asked in confusion. 

“ Nightmare on Elm Street ,” Allison said quickly. 

The rest of lunch they argued about what movie to see, the four debating animatedly about which movies were worth seeing in theatres and which would be better to wait for on VHS. About five minutes before the bell rang Andy scanned the cafeteria only to spy Claire sitting with her friends at the far end and across from them. 

She was staring at them, leaning her head on her hand and biting her bottom lip as her dreamy eyes went unblinking. That's when it occurred to Andy she wasn't staring at all of them , but at John . 

Andy sighed and turned back around, "Jesus Christ." He murmured and John looked at him. "What? Don't like my ideas all of a sudden, Jock boy?" 

Andy gave him a look as he subtly pointed his finger over his shoulder before rubbing a hand through his hair and looking away. 

John's eyes slowly followed his pointer finger and when his eyes found her he stared, his often expressive face going blank as their eyes met and he returned her look with a rather intense gaze of his own, bringing a fist to his mouth in thought as he studied her. 

He knew that look, he knew that fucking look. The same look she had given him in the closet. Biting those thick pouty lips, eyes alight with something close to arousal and John swore under his breath. 

She smiled at him, her cheeks flushing and his brows raised a little before he winked at her, unable to stop himself and she brought a finger to her lips as if to shush him and he nodded a little in response as he forced his gaze to relax.

One of her friends, blonde bitch Becca, suddenly grabbed her shoulder and shook her awake. Claire's forehead nearly slammed the table as her hand was yanked out from under her chin and she looked at the girl who started to yammer quickly. 

John sighed, the moment passing, but his pants were just a smidge tighter now as he’d only ever seen that come-and-get-me gaze one other time. 

He looked to Andy, "Man to man, I'm going to bust a nut if she keeps looking at me like that." 

"Gross dude." And Andy stuffed his garbage in the brown paper bag and stood up just as the bell rang. 

Now John's insides were burning hot. Two classes left and he was tempted to skip and take Claire with him to some unused Janitor’s closet where he could touch her for the next hour uninterrupted. 

She was giving him fuck-me eyes at lunch, getting him fucking hot and teasing him so blatantly. 

Well...blatantly for Claire. She wasn't the type to be so bold in front of her peers. Or so he had thought. But God damn if his brain wasn't swimming with all kinds of images. Like meeting her in the auditorium early and sliding her out of those black leggings she was wearing. He wanted to see her tit, see the marks he had left on them. Maybe he could slip away with her before dinner, they could find a secluded area where he could just….

He sat down in his second to last class of the day and he realized he had been right about the lady of his desire being in this class with him. He always skipped this class, Algebra II. It wasn’t a hard class, nothing like what the Brain took, advanced calculus, or whatever. John showed up for tests, usually pulled out a C plus or so, and didn’t bother with the homework. 

But he’d gone today because he had a feeling they were probably evenly matched in their math skills and had hoped she would be in this class with him. 

He had sat in the back like he did in every other class and Claire had simply walked in by herself. Becca and her other cohorts were nowhere in sight. 

She had set her book down on what was most likely her usual desk only to stop and slowly look up at him. Their eyes met, he didn’t know if it was because he had been staring at her since the moment she walked in and had felt his eyes or if it was some kind of meet-cute but she had looked up. 

She stood there a moment as the rest of the kids settled and she glanced at them all, none of them being her regular a-lister crowd. She licked her upper lip in thought and John thought he might nut in his pants. 

Claire looked at him again and John very subtly nodded his head to the desk in front of him as he winked and Claire slowly picked up her book and walked to the back where she sat in front of him. They didn’t say a word nor did she look back at him but through her soft sweater, he could see the barest trace of her bra strap. He leaned forward just a little, inhaling slowly and catching a whiff of her perfume. 

His skin erupted in goosebumps and his stomach crawled with heat. 

“Alright guys, we’re taking it easy today, we have a video on variables and expressions, so hands to yourself, no talking, and pay attention. No sleeping and keep your notes to yourself.” Mr. Ryan said as he walked over to the television and pushed in a VHS tape. He then moved to the light switch and turned the lights off before returning to his desk and turning his chair to face the tv. 

John couldn’t believe his luck. He waited a few minutes before he leaned forward, extending one finger to run across her back just along the edge of the back of her bra. He saw her back stiffen, her head almost turning around but she stopped herself, not wanting to draw attention. 

When she didn’t rebuff him or glare over her shoulder at him he carefully shifted, hunching over his desk and lifting the whole thing up and very carefully moving it forwards so the front of his desk would touch the back of her chair. 

No one noticed a thing. 

He then touched his finger to the back of her neck, just below her hairline before slowly drawing it down to the edge of her turtleneck, hooking a finger and gently pulling it down to expose nearly two inches of her perfectly flawless skin. 

He continued to run his finger across her flesh even as he saw goosebumps erupt, very carefully hooking it on the shoulder area and carefully pulling it down, though just barely. He wasn’t trying to expose her, embarrassed her, or make her uncomfortable. All he wanted was to see her shoulder, run his fingers across the mark he’d left. 

His eyes continued to flick between what he was doing and the rest of the class, occasionally to the teacher as well so he could make sure they were still in the clear. 

She had not moved, not said a word, not shifted away or brushed off his hand and so he raised his eyes to the rest in the class, being mindful of the teacher as well as he stood just enough to lean forward and press his lips to her shoulder and kiss before turning his head and saying as softly as possible, “See you after school, Cherry.” 

He then carefully slid the shoulder of her sweater back up to hide her bra strap and kept his fingers to himself for the rest of the class. His eyes continued to study the contour of her neck and shoulder, the tip of his finger tingling as his jeans tightened just a little. 

When the movie ended class was over and John thanked no one in particular for small miracles. Claire stood slowly again, but this time as she went to walk away he noticed her steps were careful as if she too were a little disoriented or…

She’s aroused...wet...from me touching her...barely touching her…

John remained in his seat for a moment longer, Claire stopping at the door to look back at him only for John to wave his fingers daintily at her and blow a kiss. 

He caught her red cheeks and the massive eye roll but he also caught how she bit her lip to keep from smiling. He smirked and stood, his leg suddenly giving a small twinge of pain and despite himself and daming his pride, he started to limp a little heavier than normal. 

His final class of the day was Computer Sciences. He wasn’t a huge fan and mostly spent the class dicking around on the computer. But Computer Science was better than Library Science, so he’d taken this instead. Brian sat next to him, one of Brian’s friends on his other side. 

Brian offered to help him work through one of the programs the teacher was discussing but despite the offer, John just couldn’t focus. All he could think about was the eyes Claire had been giving him at lunch and how aroused she had been after math class. 

His mind wonders if the next time they are alone if he could possibly arouse her enough to abandon her morals and let him between her thighs. He isn’t even thinking about sex, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to dive face-first between her- 

“Mr. Bender?” John looked up at the teacher, Mrs. Greene, “Uh, what?” he asked, realizing the whole class was looking at him. 

“I asked you what you should do next after you have the tab open.” 

John looked at his computer screen which had the program open but was nothing more than an empty spreadsheet. 

“Uh…” there was the faintest hint of snarky laughter from behind him and John’s first instinct was to turn and tell them to fuck off before he turned to the teacher and flipped her the bird for singling him out but he heard the faintest grunt next to him and froze. 

He didn’t look at Brian but heard a very soft, “Command, function three.” whispered under his breath. 

“Uh…oh…command, function three?” he asked, simply repeating Brian’s words and the teacher looked stunned, “Correct….uhm….very good Mr. Bender. Now, after you’ve done that we need to look at how the layout-” 

John relaxed and glanced at Brian who was smiling in a rather affectionate you’re-an-idiot-pay-attention manner and John winked at him. As they exited class he splayed his arm over Brian’s back and gave the younger kid an affectionate noogy, “Thanks for saving my ass, nerd-boy.” 

“If you paid attention I wouldn’t have to.” Brian said as he pushed John away but smiled. 

“Hard to pay attention when you got a semi in your pants.” John admitted and Brian blushed profusely and nodded, “Yeah, been there.” John looked at him in surprise as he followed Brian to his locker, “No shit? Who are you daydreaming about?” 

Brian sighed, “No one in particular. Just…happens sometimes.” 

John’s eyes got big as he shook his head, “Sounds like you need to rub one out dude, too much pent-up bullshit.” 

“Gross.” Brian said and John held up a finger, “au contraire, Ahab. Sit tight, I got just the thing.” and John moved down the hall to his locker, opening it up and digging through the piles of junk he had inside. Brian eventually joined him and John grabbed his bookbag and yanked it free of his shoulder, unzipping the bag and pulling out a nudie mag from his locker. 

“No way! If my mom finds that-” 

“She’ll realize her little lamb is actually a lion. Take it. I got plenty.” and John stuffed the magazine into Brian’s bag and zipped it closed before shoving it into Brian’s arms, “I recommend once or twice a day. Really helps with the rando stiffies. Did wonders for me.” and he roughly patted Brian’s back before he closed and locked his locker and walked off towards Andy who was putting his books away. 

“You still gonna bail with us?” John asked. 

“Yeah. But I gotta be careful. The wrong people see me cutting on my solo training and it’ll get back to the coach and my old man.” 

“Mm, well the Princess wants us to wait for her, got any ideas where we can hide you so that your sport freak friends won’t see you bailing on practice?” John asked. 

“What about the back hallway, behind the auditorium? Only the music nerds are back there after school. Band, chorus, and theater.” 

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll tell Cherry. She can meet us there after.” 

Andy nodded to him right as Brian and Allison walked up, “See you there.” John left the small group and beelined for the front entrance to the auditorium, hoping to grab Claire to tell her where they were going to meet. 

He rounded the corner and found Claire was standing with Becca and a few other girls as Brant Hill and another guy were talking to them. Instead of charging in, John played his cards a little closer to the chest this time, moving past the vending machines and coming to lean on the wall next to a trophy case. 

He was close enough to hear but not so close as to draw attention to himself. 

“Yeah, I’m on the review board for the activities club. The Juniors vote on which sophomores will be replacing them when they take over for the seniors. You guys give a good presentation for this year's prom and your name will be automatically added to the hat for first picks." 

John saw how excited Becca was, the girl bouncing excitedly as she nudged Claire with an elbow, Claire nodding and giving a weak smile as she met Brant's eye. 

"Alright, head on in and get set up. We'll be in shortly for your presentation." And one of the guys went to slap Claire's ass as she turned but Brant grabbed his wrist and squeezed. "Knock it off. That's not your ass to slap." 

"Come on dude, she isn't into you. Just let it go, B." 

"Say that again and your dad's job is gone. I have plans for Standish. I don't want your fucking horn dog bullshit scaring her off. I want her on the activities board next year with me. Don't fuck it up." 

"Yeah. Sure okay. Whatever." 

"Go get the others. I'm gonna go smoke. Keep your hands off the girls." 

"Yeah yeah." 

John felt like he was going to have a meltdown. He was seeing red. But even as his feet moved to follow Brant out of the school he stopped himself. 

His hands were fisted tightly and his jaw was clenched, he was finally feeling up to a little violence when he heard Claire's voice in his head. 

He could sue you…or get you suspended…I don't want to be at school without you….

"Fuck." He hissed softly as he came to a stop and turned to vent some of his anger onto the vending machine. He kicked low so as not to really do any damage but he did leave a sizable dent in the side.

It wasn't even that Brant Hill was gunning for his girl or that the asswipe had some unknown "plans" for her. It was the fact he was acting like Claire was his fucking property. Like he was entitled to her just because he was rich or well-groomed or some other asinine reason. 

He was going to vote Claire onto the activities board for next year so she would be closer to him. So he would have an in towards her. Maybe even try to get her alone or work with her one on one. While John knew Claire was smarter than to leave herself exposed to his advances she had made it very clear Brant was one of those guys that thought 'no' meant 'yes' and 'get lost' meant 'take me I'm yours.' 

John had to be smart about this, he couldn't barge headfirst into a fight with Brant. A kid like him could get John expelled without any real reason. And John would hardly have the opportunity given to try and explain the situation. 

Hell, he didn't even really understand what was actually going on. It all seemed so surreal, like something out of a bad B movie. 

He let out a pissed off sigh before he rubbed at his eyes and shoved a hand into his pocket, fisting at his switchblade reassuringly. 

He turned and walked towards one of the doors to the auditorium that would bring him in on one of the side aisles. It was dark aside from the can-lights over the stage and so John stealthily crept down the aisle keeping low and entered one of the backstage doors without making a sound. 

Most of the male and female Sophomores were on the stage, setting up the presentation they were going to give and chatting happily. John avoided one that had popped back into the curtain wings to grab a pointer stick and he ducked down behind some leftover props from last year's production of William Shakespeare's Psycho and Phsychette.  

He watched from the dark, spying Claire who was talking to another Sophomore boy, smiling happily and laughing lightly, and while John was a little annoyed he could tell it was more friendly than flirty. 

Eventually, the Juniors and Seniors on the Activities Board came in and sat down at a set of long tables at the rear of the stage, leaving the Sophomores with their back to the seating area to present. 

A Senior boy John didn't know stood up and said in a rather bored tone, "Alright. So, as you know, every year the Sophomore class is in charge of putting together a theme presentation for the Junior-Senior prom. While Freshmen through Seniors are all in the same Activities Club only certain Juniors and Seniors get to be on the Student Activities Board. The Student Activities Board makes the final call on what will be presented to the actual Faculty Committee Board for school activities. Sophomores are asked to do this in preparation for selection onto the Student Activities Board when they become Juniors and so on and so forth yadda yadda, you all know the drill. Without further boring bullshit, take it away."

It was Becca who stepped forward first and went through the presentation. John rolled his eyes at the stupidity of it all. 

"This year's theme for prom that the Sophomore class would like you to consider is called "Under the Stars-" 

John wanted to vomit, it was hella unoriginal and sounded ungodly boring. But as Becca droned on about the themed food and drinks and the decorations he noticed Claire looked a little uncomfortable. 

He followed her glances to see Brant staring at her intently. He wanted to make a scene, cause a riot, anything to get the bastard's covetous eyes off her and to get Claire bared from being on the board or anywhere near him. But what could John do that wouldn't get him expelled? 

That's when his eyes landed on one of the boys next to the Senior who had spoken earlier. He was another Senior and John remembered his name was Jason….and John knew his name because- 

Perfect- 

John stood from his spot and messed up his hair, taking a deep breath before he jogged out onto the stage and everyone looked over at him. 

"Oh, my gawd-" Becca bit in stunned surprise as John waved them off, "Phew, sorry I'm late. I got lost. Never been to one of these things before. Don't worry I figured it out." And John walked around the group of his fellow Sophomores who looked utterly flabbergasted. 

He came to stand next to Claire and smiled at her coyly as Claire looked petrified. 

"What are you doing!?" She whispered quickly, "Saving your ass." He whispered back. 

"And you are?" The Senior boy asked, looking less than impressed by John's attire and late entry. 

"Names Bender. I just joined the activities club. Didn't realize where we were meeting for the presentation of this year's prom theme, sir!" And he gave a mock salute and stomped his foot. 

"Uh…okay…I guess…continue?" And he sounded highly confused and Becca was glaring at him harshly, "Just ignore him…go on and finish-" one of the other Sophmore girls whispered and Becca went to continue using the pointer to emphasize a certain area when John looked at the whiteboard and gasped, "Oh no! Becca, sweet girl, my darling! I thought we agreed!" John said as he raised hands to his cheeks in faux shock. 

"Okay, what the actual fuck are you doing you burnout?" She groaned in frustration, "Claire, did you invite him here?" 

John ignored her comments and continued, his voice sickly sweet, "Honey, cream pie, I don't mean to upset you, but I thought we decided to change the theme presentation from 'Under the Stars' to 'Retro Speed Racer.'" 

The Sophomores all around him started to murmur and whisper in confusion and the Senior boy who had been heading this fiasco slammed a fist down on the table, "Shut up! Becca, what's going on? You told me you were ready to present your theme this morning." 

Becca appeared utterly humiliated and looked at him with desperation to have John removed, "Steven, I swear, this is the correct presentation, he's never been at-" 

John cut in, "No no no, honey. I was there last week. Yeah. 'Under the Stars' was too unoriginal . It's been done. We wanted to do something new and unique. Claire said Retro and you said that was dumb. And what's his name said-" 

"What's his name? Really? That's the best you can do?" Becca scoffed as she crossed her arms and waited. John rolled his eyes, "I just joined last week...let me see...uh...you! Yeah, what was your name again?" and John pointed to a guy with slick glasses and curly brown hair, "Uh...Monty?"

John had to bite his bottom lip to hide his laugh at such a dumb name and continued, "Right, Monty. My bad, ol' Monty boy offered up Speed Racer. Remember? With the go-karts? I was gonna talk to the shop class about building a replica Mach 5 for pictures and-" 

Jason suddenly stood, hands coming down to smack the table, "Whoa whoa whoa, wait a minute, the shop class wants in on it? They'll build a real Speed Racer…I mean…the Mach 5 from Speed Racer for pictures?" 

John smiled ruefully, "Sure thing. I got a few friends in shop class that would love the challenge. We planned to have Becca talk to her dad about funding a go-kart rental-" 

"That's bullshit! Claire, tell him that's bullshit!" Becca spat quickly and Claire cleared her throat, "Right, yeah, it's bullshit her dad probably couldn't afford it so I volunteered to see if my dad would do it."

"Ah!" Becca huffed, the slight to her family's financial abilities lost on John but some of the other kids chuckled, "Right. So you guys could run 'em around the track. Oh, and Prom was gonna be outside… on the Football field….that way we could have enough room for some super fun games. Right?" And John looked to Claire who paled a little but nodded and as her fingers twisted anxiously she said, "We thought maybe…about…uh…ya know…smaller things….a dunk tank….pie a teacher….uhm…maybe-" 

"Door prizes, the whole works….real retro 60's feel with Speed Racer as the main theme. Guys can wear tuxedos or race suits and girls can wear dresses or something a bit more go-go racer girl." John finished. 

One of the Sophomore girls chimed in, "Oh, and each couple gets a racer number! And the couple who wins the most go-kart races get a trophy!" 

A Sophomore guy added, "And the couple who has the best costume for the theme gets a free meal for two at Speedy's downtown!" 

A third girl chimed in, "And the Prom King and Queen get to ride in the Mach Five for the Thanksgiving Parade!" 

John bulked and held up his hands, "Whoa, hang on, I said the shop class could build a replica Mach 5 I never said it would be drivable." 

"That's on you." The girl said with a devilish smile and John's shoulders sagged, "Fine. We'll make it happen! Damn snoot." 

"I vote yes!" Jason said as he raised his hand eagerly. 

"Hell yay!" Another Senior said as he raised his hand too. 

Steven, the main senior in charge, surprisingly looked to the girls on the board, "What do you ladies think?" 

Two of the Junior girls raised their hands quickly and a senior girl followed. 

There were three remaining members who didn't have their hands raised, Steven, Brant, and his slap-happy buddy that John saw earlier. 

"Well…I guess….I do like the racer suits so…I'm down. Voting six to two we will take your theme presentation under advisement for submission to the Faculty Committee Board. Have everything outlined and given to me by the end of the week. Costs included and the total for all purchases finalized. Dismissed... I guess." 

Most of the Sophomores left with excited chatter on their lips but Becca stood deflated, face looking utterly destroyed as she stammered, “But…what…I….what just happened? WHAT JUST HAPPENED!?” 

The Juniors and Seniors were escaping quickly, more than a little aware Becca was not happy at all that her proposed idea had gotten thoroughly decimated in favor of a retro 60s race car-themed prom. John locked eyes with Brant who gave him a mildly impressed smirk before he shook his head and walked out with the others. 

John looked to Claire who was smiling insanely wide, “I can’t believe you just did that-” and she covered her face with her hands as she shook her head and snorted. 

“Hey, you know as well as I do, “Under the stars” is just as bad as “Under the sea” I saved your ass with something so fucking badass the Juniors and Seniors will worship the ground you walk on.” And when it falls through, you won't have a chance to get on the board with Brant-boy-fuck-face. 

“That’s not what surprised me.” Claire said as she dropped her hands from her face only to lay them across her chest and jut a hip with a rather wicked smile, “Yeah? What surprised you then?” 

“You just submitted the proposed theme for prom, and it was accepted, you also volunteered the shop class to build a car from the ground up and have it running by the time prom gets here. John…you just joined the Activities club!” 

“Hell no, I just covered your ass for the lame crap Becca was spewing-” Claire went to speak only for a rabid “YOU!” to be spat across the space and the pair turned to see a red-faced Becca cracking the pointer stick over her knee before tossing it away. She marched right up to John and poked him in the chest, “You Plebeian! You rich boy wannabe! You….you utter asshole!” 

“The fuck is a Plebeian?” John asked looking to Claire who was borderline laughing as she covered her mouth with her hand. 

“We spent all of this year putting that presentation together for this specific meeting! And you decide to just barge in and turn Shermer High’s prom night into some sort of red-neck drag race!?”

“Actually, Becca , Speed Racer isn’t red-neck. It’s a high-class sci-fi, action, adventure anime.” and John smiled at her cruelly before Becca near exploded, “ANIME!? SCI-FI!? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!? Prom is supposed to be sophisticated, it’s supposed to be elegant! It’s supposed to be magical!” 

“I honestly don’t know what I was thinking, precious -” and John palmed his cheek with fingers in shock before he deadpanned, “Aside from the fact that your idea was boring as hell, I’ve never actually watched Speed Racer though.” John quipped softly. 

“Oh. My. God! You are such a freak!” and Becca turned and stormed off, Claire watching her go. 

“Oh my god, wait…you’ve never seen Speed Racer?” 

“No a single episode, Dollface.” John said with a smirk. 

“Then why-” 

“One of the Seniors on your precious board of dickheads smokes dope. I’ve delivered some to him on behalf of his dealer. His room is caked in Speed Racer shit. Guys totally obsessed. I’ve also seen him at the dirt track outside of town. I knew if I could get him on board by talking pretty this stupid meeting of yours would wrap up quickly and we could be on our way.” 

And John headed for the back door which lead to the music hall, “Are you joking? You…the only reason you did all this was to end the meeting faster?” 

“Yuuup. Just wanted more time with those pretty lips of yours.” John turned and reached for her hand, pulling her to him so he could press a soft kiss to her lips, “Got a problem with that?” he asked after. 

Sorry to burn you so bad, Sweets, but if you got voted onto the board Brant would have been all over you. I did you a favor.  

Claire looked up at him in horror as she gently pushed away from him and said, “Yeah. Yeah, I do, because if we can’t pull this together, it’s going to come back on all of us and you!” 

John snorted, “What’s the worst that can happen? So the Juniors and Seniors don’t get exactly what was promised. It doesn’t matter.” John said as he waved her concern away. 

“Sure. It doesn’t matter to you, but what about the other Sophomores that it does matter to? What about Becca? Or Monty? Sarena? They all want a chance to get voted onto the Student Board. They really like this stuff…it’s…important to them.” 

John glared at her as he crossed his arms and asked hotly, “And what about you? Does It matter to you?” and John waited, meeting her eye and waiting for Claire to admit it. 

She swallowed before she nodded and said begrudgingly, “Yeah. It matters to me too. I...want on the Student Board next year. I’m not going to compromise the things I like just because you think it’s shit. I like hair, make-up, and jewelry! I like fashion and accessories! I like planning and organizing parties, I like talking about themes and designs. I like the activities club. If you can’t respect me for what I like-” 

“So you can say it to me, but not to them, huh?” John asked quickly, his arms folding tightly across his chest as he leaned against one of the support poles behind him. 

“What?” she asked, her fire deflating quickly as she looked at him. 

John scoffed, “Figures….do recall, last Saturday, Chery…detention….I called you a bitch because you didn’t have the balls to tell your friends that you’re going to like who you want to like. Not even three days later and you’re putting me in my place. Such a shame you can’t do the same thing to Bitch Face Becca.” 

Claire look flabbergasted, utterly shocked as she thought back over what she had been saying before John had cut in. She met his eyes and John gave a really satisfied smile, “Well, Cherry. I didn’t know you had it in you. We’ll just consider this a step in the right direction. Gold Star. Alright, if it means that much to you. I’ll help you out.” 

Claire swallowed, wiping a hand across her cheek to belay a lone tear and she sniffed, “Really?” 

John nodded, “I’ll talk to my boys in shop class on Thursday.” 

Claire’s worried frown turned into a beaming smile before she ran to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Thank you!” She said happily, delivering a rather deep and salacious kiss to his lips which John reciprocated quickly. 

Fucking-A, Cherry. Soon enough you’ll be standing your ground against the people who really matter. And none of this A-lister crap will matter. You'll see, it'll be water under the bridge. 

He hoisted her up suddenly, turning to set her on a desk near the main electrical panel for the theatre grid. He pressed her legs apart and shoved his hips against her as he pulled at her turtleneck and ran his mouth down her throat. 

His hand glided up the outside of her leg and up around her waist to rest on her lower back, yanking her closer as he leaned and managed to get her on her back. 

“John-” she whispered and he managed a soft hum as he pressed a hand up under her sweater dress and ghosted fingers across her lower belly, pulling slowly at the front of her leggings. 

“John-” she whimpered but he abandoned her neck to catch her lips and he gave a gentle thrust of his hips against her and when her fingers came to run nails across his scalp and pull him closer John felt his heart flip and his length stiffen. 

Please, God, don’t let anything fuck this up- 

The sound of a door opening had them jumping apart, Claire shooting off the desk and straightening herself, lipstick included as John adjusted his clothes and shifted his obvious boner down and out of the way. They looked towards the stage and from around one of the curtain arms Brian’s face appeared, “Hey, you guys ready to go?” 

John’s shoulders sagged and his teeth great, “Are you fuckin’ kidding me!?” and he stormed passed Brian, shouldering him a little too hard before he headed for the back hall and the music rooms. 

Brian looked bewildered and Claire just smiled at him before she walked over and laced her arm through his, guiding the awkward youth towards the door John had just stomped through.

Chapter Text

When John and Claire got into her car, John let out an annoyed huff, and Claire glanced at him as she waited for Andy and the others to load into his truck. 

“What’s wrong?” Claire asked. 

John shook his head as he pulled out a cigarette and cracked the glass, his body stiff and pulled tight, “It’s nothing.” he murmured as he let out a slow breath and a plume of smoke slowly slid out of the gap of the window. 

“Was it Brian?” Claire asked and she saw how his fist balled up and he scoffed, “Little shit.” 

“He didn’t mean to interrupt-” 

“Bull shit. Nerd boy’s got a crush on you, probably because you’re the first set of tits to be nice to him and not give him hell for being a virgin. He did it on purpose.” 

Claire studied him a moment before she looked back to Andy, the group of three ready to go and he nodded at her through the window, “Okay, which way to the diner?” she asked, glancing back to John who pointed towards the exit on the far side of the parking lot. 

Claire released the parking brake and shifted into neutral while pressing the clutch and break as she turned the key in the ignition and the car started. She shifted to first and off they went. When she got onto the main road John pointed, “Left at the next light.” 

She only ground the gears once and it was minor and only because her thoughts were on what John had said, “You know, it isn’t like we were going to do it on the stage.” Claire said softly. 

John let out a knowing grunt as he flicked the end of his smoke clean and took another drag, “So? That doesn’t mean I’m going to like being interrupted.”

“Yeah. But…I mean…I’m a virgin too…and you know that. I get that it was kind of frustrating and annoying but…even if he hadn’t been interrupted…you’d be at the same frustration level you are now.” 

“So?” he asked, his tone sharp as he slid a little further down in the seat. 

“So, I just don’t see why you’d be mad at Brian. It isn’t like if he hadn’t interrupted we’d still be messing around backstage or something.” He looked at her, Claire only glancing at him as her eyes were mainly on the road and John had an odd look on his face. 

“What?” she asked, 

“Nothing.” he sighed, his anger fading away but his frustration still evident. 

“Come on, it must be something.” Claire pushed gently. 

John flicked his smoke out the window and leaned back in his chair, a long low sigh escaping his lips as he closed his eyes, “You want the honest to God truth, or do you want the bullshit truth?” 

“Honest to God. Lay it on me.” Claire made the left turn as she waited, her stomach a little nervous about what he was going to say. 

“I’ve never had to wait before,” John said, his voice soft as he rubbed fingers at his temple. 

“Wait for what?” Claire asked. 

“What do you think, Cherry? Sex . I’ve never had to wait for sex before.” John bit a little more sharply. 

“Oh.” Claire said, her voice a little shocked before she swallowed and John murmured out, “Right on Henderson, three blocks up.” 

Claire nodded before she managed to swallow, lick her lips and ask, “Have you ever been anyone’s first time?” 

“Mm, once. In eighth grade. But she was just using me to piss off her boyfriend.” John said in a rather annoyed voice. 

Claire glanced at him again, noting how distant he suddenly looked, arms crossed angrily, eyes narrow and staring out the window. 

“Did it hurt?” and John looked at her in confusion as Claire amended, “Her, I mean…did it seem like it hurt when you did it with her?” 

John studied her face a moment, a realization seeming to come to him before he cocked his head slightly, “It…depends on the girl. She seemed okay. No complaints or anything. If it did hurt she didn’t tell me. But I’ve had a few lays, Cherry, and some of them told me about their first time. Only one of them said it was really bad and painful but…uh….her first time wasn’t exactly…” 

“Was she raped?” Claire asked suddenly and John swore under his breath as he bit out, “Can we change the subject? God, Sweets, I thought this was dinner and a movie, not trauma therapy.” 

Claire swallowed, “Oh, sure, sorry…I just wanted to know-” she swallowed again, her mouth suddenly dry as she reached a shaky hand for the radio, Yeah, this probably isn’t a conversation we should have in the car on the way to get food.

“ You’re right. Never mind…here.” she was about to turn on the radio but John had gently grabbed her hand, “Just wanted to know what?” he asked and she glanced between the road, his hand, and his face, “We can drop it. Here, just play some music and we can jam-” 

“No, what were you going to say?” He asked suddenly, “I thought you wanted to change the subject?” she asked, her hand pulling away from his as she sat back up. 

“I did until you said that. What is it? Oh, hey, take this right.” Claire put on her signal and turned onto Henderson, “One more left in three blocks then we go straight for a few miles.” John said. 

Claire nodded and checked her rearview to make sure Andy was still behind her. When she spotted his truck she returned her gaze to the road and though her stomach was twisting anxiously she said quickly, “I…want to do it. But I’m scared. About what people will say if they find out but mostly….I’m scared that it will hurt. Or that I’ll somehow get pregnant even though I’m on the pill.” 

“Wait, you’re on the pill?” John asked, giving her a rather shocked look. 

“Uh-huh, ever since I was fourteen. It helps with my hormones or something. I had…irregular periods and really bad cramps. The pill helps, like…a lot.” 

“Jesus.” John whispered as his eyes flicked around the car but Claire just continued, “I mean, what if my parents walk in? And what if I hate it? I could get an STD. What if I’m not good at it? What if I’m like…so bad at it no one will ever wanna do it with me…what if you never want to do it with me again? I only want to do it if I’m in love…that way…I know it meant something even if it doesn’t work out…I don’t want my first time to be meaningless. I like you…. a lot. But I don’t think I’m ready. Does that mean you’re going to lose interest? What if-” 

“Whoa, slow down, deep breath, Sweets. Damn, you’re gonna have an aneurysm or something.” John said, his voice sounding strained as he shifted in his seat to look at her. She glanced at him quickly but then turned her face away, still keeping eyes on the road but feeling how red her face was and internally shrieking. 

Why the hell did I just admit all that!? I just totally word vomited all over him! He probably thinks I’m such a huge spazzoid! Oh my god!

A gloved hand came to the back of her neck and messaged gently, “Look at me, Cherry.” She didn’t at first, too embarrassed to meet his eye, “Hey, Claire…look at me.” and at the sound of her real name leaving his lips in such a gentle manner she finally turned her face back, no doubt he took in the ruby splashes that washed across her face and the minor shake of her shoulders. 

She felt like she’d just told him her deepest, darkest secret. Maybe, in a way, she had. She’d never really talked to anyone about her sexuality. Now she’d talked to both Allison and John in depth several times. But this was different. Because what she had just shared with him was all her insecurities, all her fears, and all her anxiety about it. It had tumbled out of her so quickly and suddenly she didn’t even know why. 

It was like it had been sitting on the tip of her tongue for years and she finally just couldn’t hold it back anymore. Yet, when John had said her name like that, her real name, her heart had fluttered so hard she felt it, her stomach twisting and her lower regions clenched. 

She felt her hands tighten on the steering wheel as she met his gaze, flicking back and forth between him and the road. 

She’d taken the last left a few minutes ago and as she kept driving John continued to look at her, his hand gently rubbing her neck and John said softly, “The diner is on the left just after the tracks, pull in and park, we’re gonna have a little chat, Princess.” 

Claire nodded as his hand finally fell away and she returned her gaze fully to the road. Two long minutes passed in silence before Claire drove over the tracks and spied the diner, sitting on a corner of the four-way stop just on the edge of town. Beyond the brown brick building were trees and a sharp turn in the road that descended into the woods.

She’d never been this far South before, but she was kind of interested in how old-school it looked and felt. The diner almost made her think of a dive bar, yet there were mostly cars and only two motorcycles. Across the four-way on the opposite corner was an old run-down building, complete with flaking white paint and a sign hanging from one corner of a post, the words were illegible. 

The rest of the area was mostly woods yet down the road about a quarter mile she saw a rusted mailbox, standing alone near a gap in the trees, most likely a driveway to someone’s house.  

As she pulled into the dusty parking lot she hoped he wasn’t about to give her shit for being so honest with him. Any time she’s been honest with him previously he either brushed it off, gave a snappy retort, or like on Saturday, utterly decimated her and her feelings. She turned off the car, her head staring down at her hands which now rested in her lap as she waited.  

“Come on.” John said softly as he got out of the car and reached for another cigarette from his pack, Andy pulled up beside them on the left and as the group of kids came together John held up his cigarette to show he was going to smoke, “Grab us a booth.” Andy nodded as Allison and Brian followed him in and Claire plodded around her car and came to lean on the passenger side door, arms crossed and head down as she bit her bottom lip and wished she had kept her fears to herself. 

She felt like such an idiot. Like some insecure dweeb and John probably thought her no better than a scared little girl. Considering he’d had sex before she probably sounded so naive and dumb. Most of the other girls he’d been with probably had way more experience than her and now he probably thought-

The feeling of knuckles gently sliding down her cheek made her look up and a tear fell from her eye and she quickly wiped it away, “Shit.” she said softly, not at all aware her eyes had watered. 

“Sorry.” she whispered, “I don’t know why I’m crying.” 

“Mm. Happens to the best of us.” John mussed. He hadn’t even attempted to light his cigarette and Claire eyed it as her mouth suddenly watered, “Can I…please have one?” and John handed her his in surprise, “You smoke?” he asked. 

“My mom does, I used to steal a few from her pack when I was stressed. It..helped. I try not to, I don’t want to smell like an ashtray but…sometimes I need-” 

“Yeah. I get it.” he pulled out another one for him before lighting hers and then his own. They stood in silence, Claire smoking the cigarette expertly well, not a single cough or spasm of her chest as she looked down at his boots and tried to reel in her emotions. It seemed to her, that with John, she was more apt to wear them on her sleeve, and she didn’t know why. He never seemed particularly interested in sharing his true feelings save for when they had driven out into the country. 

He mostly kept his feelings guarded, only giving her bits and pieces of his true feelings on any given thing. But for some reason, she kept exposing herself to him and she wished she could stop. 

“Hey-” he said suddenly and she glanced up from under her bangs, letting out a slow stream of smoke as he met her gaze. 

“Look, I get it okay? It shouldn't be a big deal, but to some people it is. And I…uh….shit..sorry I’m not so good at the comforting thing-” and John rubbed at the back of his head as he winced a little, still meeting her gaze but she could tell he was squirming on the inside. 

“Um, you don’t have to do this. Let’s just forget it.” Claire said casually, flicking the built-up ash from her smoke as she stood against the car. John suddenly stepped towards her, gently pinning her between him and the door, “No…I…I want to try…so just…damn it…let me talk.” 

Claire nodded in confusion before John raised a hand to cup her cheek and took a deep breath,  “Okay…uh…It doesn’t matter if anyone finds out or what they will say as long as you are sure of the choice you make. I mean, shit, no one has to live with yourself like you do, right?” 

Claire nodded, “I guess that’s true.” 

“I figured you already knew this but if the guy your with is any kind of real man he’ll listen to you when you do it so…ya know…if it hurts or whatever…you just tell him…make him go at your pace and if he won’t you’d kick him the fuck out, right?” 

“Yeah.” Claire said as she gave a small smile, “Right. So, I don’t think you’ll hate it but your first time isn’t gonna be like…ya know….magic or what the fuck ever you think. Lower your standards just a little, it takes time to get to know each other or some shit so…the first time is usually trial and error anyway.” 

“That’s a good point,” she said with a nod as she took another drag. 

“I can’t believe I have to say this shit but….Jesus….I… don’t have any diseases or anything. I’ve always wrapped my shit and got tested last year at one of the clinics and was clean and haven’t had sex since so there is that.” 

“Oh.” and that’s all she could say because she hadn’t even considered John Bender the type to care enough to get tested. Her opinion of him was changing more and more each day and each preconceived notion continued to be shattered and her guilt for judging him so harshly continued to mount.

“I’m sure you’d be great at sex once you figured it out-” he started and she looked up at him, meeting his eyes which were suddenly more intense, thoughts she couldn’t read were passing behind hard eyes that screamed of possibilities. 

“Yeah. You’d be great.” he suddenly whispered as his thumb gently rubbed down her cheek and Claire hummed softly before John cleared his throat and looked away, “It isn’t like a person is born knowing how to be good at it or anything. It…actually….uh…took me a minute to figure out how to…ya know…give a girl a happy ending-” Claire noticed how red his face was now, how tightly his fingers were squeezing the butt of his smoke, and how he was digging the steel toe of his boot into the gravel and dirt on the ground, his eyes sliding this way and that as his jaw tightened, “Don’t tell Sporto that, either.” he bit and Claire gave a soft giggle and nodded. 

“And…look…I get the whole wanting to be in love with the first person you sleep with. Okay? I…don’t think that’s as lame as you probably think I do. It’s…kind of…cool to be with a girl who wants to take it slow. I…like that you’re not into the whole one-and-done thing…makes me feel…less like a means to an end. As for not being ready or me losing interest, I…It’s hard okay? I don’t normally have to wait for sex, that’s true…but…I don’t mind doing that for you. I’m not gonna pressure you. I…also…kind of…like you too, okay?” and it was like every word was utter agony for him to speak, his face going even more red as he cocked his head to the side and his neck popped. 

“So just… stop overthinking it. If it happens it happens, if not…it’s fine. I’m not going to lose interest. Do I want to have sex with you? Yes, I fucking do. Am I going to force you or make you feel like shit if you don’t? No. So just…be cool. Chill out. Enjoy the ride, Princess. I was just frustrated earlier cause I wanted to…feel you up and I like being that close to you. You taste so fucking good. I got blue balls like crazy…but I can take care of them on my own. So…will you just…stop worrying your pretty head over stuff that doesn’t matter? You’re kind of ruining the sexual tension and the mystique.” 

Claire raised a hand, fingers gently pressing hair out of his face and tucking it behind an ear as she giggled and his eyes met hers again, a sort of wince and concern filling them as he looked at her. 

“The mystique? I have mystique?”

John chuckled, “Well not now, you ruined it by worrying. Now, you only have a naive cuteness that just isn’t going to cut it.” the smile that slid across his lips was so genuine and big that Claire felt her heart beat twice as hard. 

He just tried to comfort me. To ease my worries. And he did…a really good job. He’s uncomfortable…but…that’s the most he’s ever opened up to me. I need to make sure he knows how much I appreciate it. 

“Thanks, John.” she whispered, “I feel a lot better.” and she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Her arms snaked around him and hugged him tightly. She laid her head against his chest and squeezed him and when his arms came to wrap around her she sighed happily, “You’re so wonderful.” she whispered, “It’s like all the weight and pressure is gone.” 

“Yeah? Well…that’s good. Glad I could help.” he said, though she could still hear how unsure he sounded and Claire smiled, “You did great. I do feel better. Promise.” 

“Cool,” he said, as she felt his body relax a loud tapping sound caught their attention and they looked over to see Andy, Allison, and Brian pressed against one of the big windows and knocking on the glass, motioning for them to come inside. 

“You’re loyal subjects await you, queenie.” John mused as he tossed his smoke. 

“Fuck off.” Claire laughed and the pair headed inside. 

Page Break 

“What do you think they are talking about?” Brian asked as the three looked out the window to see Claire and John looking at each other with rather sickly gazes. 

“I don’t know. But Claire looks like she's going to throw up and John looks hella uncomfortable.” Andy said. 

“They’re talking about sex,” Allison said. 

Andy and Brian looked at her, “How can you tell?” Brian asked. 

“I can read lips.” Allison said with a wicked smile and Andy and Brian looked at each other before they looked back at her, “What are they saying?” the pair asked at the same time. 

Allison looked back at John, watching his lips move and her smile faded a little, “Mm, it’s personal. Can’t tell you.” Allison said. 

“I call B.S. you can’t read lips.” Brian said suddenly and Allison looked at him with annoyance before looking back at John and studying his mouth, “Claire’s scared to have sex, John’s trying to tell her it’s no big deal and…oh….he’s okay with waiting. He likes her anyway and is glad she isn’t using him for sex like a lot of other girls do. He likes that she’s slow-moving 'cause it makes him feel less like a sex toy.” 

Andy nearly choked on the water he was drinking and Brian made a face of disgust, “So, Bender’s had sex?” Andy asked. 

“Wait…you haven’t?” Brian asked Andy, who looked at him, then shifted uncomfortably, “Shut up.” 

Allison giggled in her throat and continued to study them, “He likes her. A lot. He has a hard time talking about his feelings…he’s…trying to comfort her but he isn’t very good at it. I’d say it’s his first time trying to comfort someone like this. Claire seems receptive though, so I think they’ll be fine.” Allison looked back to the pair of boys who were still staring at the couple outside. 

“And now they’re making out,” Brian said rolling his eyes as he sat back in his seat and Andy knocked on the window. He motioned for them to come inside and Allison blew some hair out of her eyes, “You think they like each other? I mean, aside from the whole using each other to get back at Claire’s parents or whatever bullshit that’s about?” Andy asked and Allison nodded. 

“Oh yeah. Claire likes him and I am pretty sure John likes her too. He’s just scared of rejection and Claire thinks John only wants sex. This was a big step for both of them. They’re moving along pretty fast.” Allison brought a straw to her lips and blew, the wrap flying off and hitting Brian squarely in the forehead. 

“I guess only time with tell.” Andy mused as he looked at her and Allison smiled, her foot sliding out of her shoe to come and graze up his calf and towards his inner thigh. Andy jerked suddenly, looking at her with wide eyes as red stained his cheeks, “Yeah, only time will tell.” 

“You okay?” Brian asked and Andy nodded quickly, shoving his glass of water against his mouth as his eyes continued to stare at her. 

Page Break 

Dinner was delicious, the little diner, though not a place Claire would normally go, had really good burgers and their fries were crispy. She ate it up as it was rare she got to eat such unhealthy food. Each of them got a milkshake and John seemed pretty friendly with the wait staff. 

He explained his mom worked here for a short time when he was a kid and so he waited out many of her shifts playing songs on the jukebox and wasting quarters on the pinball machine. Pam, one of the older waitresses had come over and been a bit friendly with him, asking him how he was and how his mother was doing. John played it off that she was well but didn’t mention his dad and she ended up comping their shakes. 

Brian paid for dinner and as they sat there finishing their shakes the great debate restarted for which movie to see. It was not an easy compromise to make but it was Claire who broke the debate. 

“Okay, hear me out. Let’s go see Romancing the Stone .” The guys groaned heavily but claire kept going, “Will you listen!? It has action, which John likes, Adventure which Andy likes, Romance that I like, and Comedy for Brian. Allison, it’s got Kathleen Turner, Danny Davito, and Michael Douglas and takes place in another country so I bet there will be some really interesting cultural stuff. And-” Claire leaned in and the group followed suit, “I heard there is a sex scene….and you see Kathleen Turner’s boobs.” 

Andy, Brian, and John looked at each other before they looked back at Claire, “Okay.” the three said at the same time and Claire smiled happily. 

They arrived at the movie theatre downtown around seven o’clock and there was a 7:15 showing. Claire used her dad’s credit card to purchase the tickets for everyone as well as popcorn and sodas and soon enough they were sitting in the theatre. They chose the very back row of seats and settled into the center, Brian in between Claire and Allison and Andy and John on the outer side of the girls. 

They were chatting amongst themselves as the theatre slowly filled and John and Andy spent several minutes trying to shoot popcorn down the girl’s shirts while Brian munched on his own bag and watched with happy amusement. 

It was about three minutes until the movie was supposed to start that a female voice called out, “Brian?” the entire group looked to the row in front of them as a blonde-haired girl with braces and a Nasa t-shirt stood staring at him in shock. 

“Nat? Hey! What…what are you doing here?” Brian asked, his voice cracking and he cleared his throat quickly. The girl in question, smiled sheepishly at him, “Uh…it’s Michael Douglas, why wouldn’t I be here. Why are you here?” 

“Uh…just…seeing the movie…ya know…with my friends.” Nat’s eyes scanned the group, Andy smiled and Allison waved as Claire twiddled her fingers in the air and John saluted. 

“Oh…these are your friends? Cool.” Nat said, looking around her before looking back at him with embarrassment. 

“Wait…Nat…are you here alone?” Brian asked. 

“Yeah…uh…Sam and I…broke up…kind of just wanted to-” 

“R-Really!?” Brian asked suddenly, leaning forward as his eyes grew wide, Claire swiftly smacked his shoulder and Brian looked at her in confusion before backtracking, “Oh, uh…I mean…sorry…to hear that. Do you want me to sit with you? Or, no I mean, I meant, you can sit with us if you want…I mean…do you want to sit with us?” his face was near violet now, his hands fisting the popcorn bag tightly before Claire placed a hand on his shoulder and Brian plopped back in his seat looking utterly defeat, “Natalie, would you like to sit with us? There is plenty of room, and I don’t mind scooting over.” Claire's voice was confident, calm, and welcoming and Nat looked at her before she smiled, “You guys wouldn’t mind?” 

“Not at all.” Claire said with a reassuring smile, “Oh…okay thanks…uhm…Brian…can I sit next to you?” she asked. 

Brian nodded quickly and John dutifully got up and shifted over a seat and Claire followed, giving Nat her old seat and sitting down next to the girl. 

Claire recognized her, she saw her in the halls and knew she was considered a nerd. Very smart, socially awkward, and shy she mostly kept to herself. She had been dating a guy named Sam who was the captain of the debate team. I guess Sam would have been considered high grade within the realms of the nerdom, but compared to the people Claire hung out with he was no better than Brian in the eyes of her friends. 

Yet, as Claire glanced at the girl, she saw how open Nat’s body language was towards Brian, talking to him instantly before she talked to anyone else. Brian engaged quickly, offering her popcorn and soda which she gladly accepted, sharing his straw and touching his hand as they both reached for the popcorn. 

“She likes him…. a lot.” Claire whispered to John who chuckled, “I couldn’t tell-” John whispered sarcastically and Claire rolled her eyes, “Course she does, she’s like a bitch in heat. He’s totally gonna get some if he plays his cards right.” 

“ John -” Claire whispered harshly, “What? I just meant like…a kiss or some shit…whatever it is nerds do.” John leaned in and gave her a soft kiss and Claire gave a soft glare, “I think they’re cute together.” 

“Uh-huh, sure. Like two puppies sharing a Milk Bone. Even nerds get lucky sometimes.” John mused and he suddenly raised the arm between them and pulled Claire against him, the young woman leaning close and smiling softly as the lights dimmed and the movie started. 

While the movie was interesting and Claire had wanted to see Romancing the Stone since it came out a few months ago her mind was only partially focused on the actual picture. The rest of her mind was focusing on the conversation she and John had shared outside the diner. 

John had made his intentions towards her clear, Claire now knew he wasn’t so much in this for the possibility of sex but because he actually liked her. He was interested in more than just physical stuff and so Claire was off the hook for having to do anything more. 

Yet, part of her, the part she wasn’t very in touch with, still craved that forbidden activity that John had described to her so brazenly last Saturday. And when her mind recalled what they had done on her couch yesterday night and the marks left on her body from their activities Claire realized she did want to explore more with him. 

She wasn’t ready for sex, but she knew there were other things they could do. The question was, would she be brave enough? He could touch her in a lot of ways, and she could touch him too without either of them having to go all the way. So, if she had to think about it, how far would she be willing to go with him knowing they aren’t exactly a couple yet and that they may not stay together at the end of the week? 

She turned her head a little, her body still leaning against John as she inhaled his scent and felt his warmth. She pressed her lips to his throat and John, who had been focused on the movie, glanced at her in the dark, “What you doing, Sweets?” he whispered, “Thinking.” she whispered. 

And then she leaned up, pulling off her coat as she was getting a little warm, John helped her get it off and set it across his thighs. She leaned back against him and noticed how he didn’t move the coat off his lap, his attention returning to the movie. Apparently, it was interesting enough to hold his attention and Claire smirked before she leaned over and pressed her lips to his ear, “Are you coming over after the movie? Dad’s not coming home until tomorrow afternoon.” 

John cleared his throat softly, “Can’t live without me?” he teased in an extra soft voice. 

“Actually-” Claire whispered and she very slowly slid her hand under her coat, fingers and palm ghosting over his crotch and she heard John’s breath catch in his throat, “I want to try some…things.” she whispered, “Will you help me?” and she grazed a finger right along the length of him which had grown ungodly quick the moment she touched him. 

John’s jaw clenched and he gave a nod, “Don’t tease me. Hell of a time to be brave, Princess. I don’t think I can handle an empty promise like this.” 

Claire gave a soft breathy laugh, “Your pep talk put things in perspective. I want to try too. Maybe not all the way, but…I want to try…with you.” John gave a slow shaky nod, his breathing a little heavier and he slowly moved his hand under Claire’s coat and pulled her hand away from his stiffy slowly, “Deal. Just don’t touch it anymore or it won’t ever go down damn tease.” 

“Okay.” Claire kissed his neck again and they went back to watching the movie. Claire was wound tight the entire time and when the sex scene came up the group watched, the guys with wide intent eyes and the girls with a look of mysticism. 

“That….looks…good.” Claire said softly to herself and she felt John squeeze her hand, “Movies don’t have shit on real life.” John whispered but Claire was caught up in the passion of the scene, so soft and slow, tender and gentle and when Michael Douglas’s character decided not to double cross Kathleen and slipped the map he’d stolen from the main protagonist back into her bag Claire snuggled closer to John, something in that scene reminding her of their conversation next to her car. 

From there on out the movie went fast, with plenty of action and adventure and at one point Claire glanced at Brian to see Nat was holding his hand and leaning her head on his shoulder, Brian looking exceptionally happy. 

She smiled softly at the pair and saw Allison give her a subtle thumbs up from across the way and Claire nodded back her happiness. 

When the movie ended they all stood and stretched or adjusted themselves, it never being easy for teenagers to sit still for long let alone two hours. To Claire’s surprise John held up her coat and helped her put it on, Andy did the same for Allison and then the small group headed out. They tossed their empty bags and cups away as they left, all of them talking animatedly about the movie, “Okay, not as good as the Terminator but not bad. More blood than I thought and I liked the mystery aspect.” John admitted. 

“Yeah, and Davito was hilarious!” Brian said, looking at Nat in surprise as she took his hand and nodded, “I really liked the sex scene.” she said suddenly which caught Brian off guard and Allison nodded, “Me too!” 

“Oh my god, really?” Nat laughed, “It was done really well. Tastefully but with some passion. I enjoyed it too.” Claire agreed. 

“We didn’t see a full-on tit shot though.” John said, “You lied to get us to go.” 

Andy nodded “Yeah, just some side boob.” 

“Puh-lease, you can look at mine whenever you want.” Allison said with an eye roll and Andy’s eyes boggled, “I can?” 

“Ohmygod!” Claire laughed and Nat giggled before she looked at Brian, “You can’t see mine until we go on at least two dates.” 

“AW SHIT! BRIAN’S GOT A GIRLFRIEND!” John yelled and Brian winced and shushed him, “Hey, Bender, come on…you’ll embarrass Nat.” 

“I wouldn’t be embarrassed to be your girlfriend,” Nat said suddenly, her voice growing sober rather quick as she looked at him and stopped walking. Brian followed suit and John made a loud bell sound, “DING DING DING, that’s the end of round one folks, come back next week for a sneak peek at round two.” John yanked Claire towards her car and the pair waved to Andy and Allison. 

“You need a ride home?” Andy asked Nat, “Oh, no, I drove myself. Just got my license last week. Uh…if you want…I can take you home Brian…no hanky panky, just…ya know…a ride.” Nat said looking at him. 

“Oh…uh…Andy?” and Brian looked to Andy and Allison and the athlete raspberries, “Why are you looking at me, dude? I’m not your mom. Go ahead. No skin off my back.” 

“Cool. Thanks.” Brian parted ways as Andy rolled his eyes and rubbed at his forehead, “My god, if Nat had been any more transparent she would have been invisible. You know anything about her?” 

Allison shook her head but said, “When I people watch at lunch…I have seen her…she stares at him. So…I think she likes him. But…I guess she could be using him to make her ex jealous.” 

“Damn. You think?” 

“We’ll just have to wait and see. Either way, he’s gonna get a kiss tonight.” 

“Yeah? Well, what about me? Am I going to get a kiss tonight?” Andy asked as he placed his arm over her shoulders and they turned to walk towards his truck, “Maybe.” they laughed softly as they headed out. 

Claire was silent as she and John drove back through town towards her parent's house. Her boldness from earlier had cooled considerably but she was still curious and her mind was filled with possibilities. 

How far did she want to go tonight? She knew she wanted to try something more than just what they had done the night before. But she didn’t know what. Allison had given Andy a blow job, but Claire didn’t even know how to do that. She figured Allison probably hadn’t known either and so had simply guessed. Maybe Andy had told her how? 

John had gotten her off yesterday and it had been amazing, and Claire really wanted to experiment and explore but she was so damn nervous. Maybe if she just handed John the reigns and let him guide her? He was the most experienced but something told her it would be better if she took control of this particular experience since it was her first time. 

In the movie theatre, she’d groped him softly and felt John through his pants. She still couldn’t guess the size but she knew what a dick looked like thanks to a few awkward days in health class and that one day of sex ed. 

She felt like she was ready, she wanted to move forward with John, but she had no clue how to start, and when they got home and it was just them…maybe another movie? Ice cream? Some booze? 

Booze might take the edge off my nerves but it might also make me too bold. I might end up going further than I want if I drink something. Maybe a half glass of wine? Just to chill out and then no more? What if John drinks a bunch and then he gets aggressive? No, he promised, he’d never do something like that. He told me yesterday. Maybe I can just sneak a sip from the bottle in my room…

“If you were thinking any louder it’d be on stereo. Chill out Sweets, let’s just see where the night takes us.” John said, his hand coming to rest on her thigh and messaging gently and in a manner meant to soothe. 

Claire nodded but said nothing, her car pulling up her drive and into the garage and she shut the garage door before either of them got out of the car. They headed inside and John was much quicker to remove his coat and jacket Claire removed hers and hung up her purse as well. 

She had homework she needed to do tonight, but considering John was adamant about not staying the night she figured she could do it after he went home. It was only ten p.m. and nearly the same time John had elected to go home last night. Though they had taken a drive which ended up getting him home around midnight. If they didn’t go for a drive tonight she’d get him home around the same time. 

“Do you want anything? Ice cream…cookies…wine?” she dared to offer and John looked at her, his eyes studying her face before he smirked, “Ice cream sounds good. I’ll pass on the cookies and booze. I’m more of a beer guy. But I won’t stop you from having a glass.” 

He winked at her and Claire relaxed and smiled, going to the fridge and pulling out the ice cream before grabbing two bowls, a scoop, and spoons as well as a single wine glass. 

She returned to the fridge to grab an already opened bottle of wine and poured herself a half glass. There was relief that came to her that John decided not to drink, and she made both of them a bowl of ice cream. She heard him moving behind her and turned to see him rummaging through the fridge. 

He pulled out a bottle of chocolate sauce, a jar of caramel melt and a spray can of whip cream, “How bought we make it sundaes? Got any cherries , Cherry?” 

Claire studied him a moment before she said, “Second shelf in the back.” He set the stuff on the counter before returning to the fridge and coming back with a jar of Merichino cherries. 

“You got a stereo or some shit?” John asked and Claire nodded, pointing to the radio in the corner of the kitchen and John cruised over, “Sweet. Let’s see what we got.” 

He turned it on and played with the dial, “Oh wait, go back! Joan Jett!” Claire said and John scoffed, “You get one princess, after that, I call the shots.” John said as he went back and Joan Jett blared to life. 

I hate myself for loving you, can’t break free of the things you do- 

Claire smiled and started to sway and bop to the song as she began to make her sundae, “Come here, you goof, come on, help me-” she said. John walked back over, coming to stand next to her as she bopped and shook her hips, mouthing the lyrics before shoving the caramel sauce at him, “Here, just like this.” and she squeezed the chocolate sauce bottle and held it high, drizzling from a mighty way up and dancing around. 

“Wait, like this?” John asked, playing dumb, as he raised the jar of caramel high above his head and poured it over his bowl of ice cream. 

“Hell yay, 'cause I hate myself for loving you, for loving you!” 

John was smiling as he watched her bop around as she set the chocolate aside and grabbed up the whipped cream, spraying it all over as she hissed, “Fuuuuuck your diet mom, whose a porker now be-otch!” 

John looked up when the next song came on, “Oh fuck yes, Quiet Riot, I don’t know why anymore, come on feel the noise, girls rock your boys!” 

It was John’s turn to bop around before he grabbed up the whipped cream and slathered it all over his desert before he looked at Claire and she looked at him, her eyes glancing to the can before she shook her head, “Don’t you dare!” 

He pointed it at her and shot some whipped cream at her face at which Claire let out a squeal before she scooped up some whipped cream from her bowl and tossed it at John. 

He shoved his fingers into the caramel sauce before slopping some on her cheek and Claire did the same, the music blaring as the pair had a mini food fight. Eventually, John grabbed a cherry out of the jar and pulled her close, Claire looked up at him as he gently held the dripping saccharin fruit to her lips and she slowly opened her mouth, John sliding it onto her tongue followed by his finger. Claire sucked on the cherry and his thumb for a long moment, John’s eyes zoning in on the action as his teeth clenched and he sucked air lightly through his teeth. As he slowly removed his thumb from between her lips Claire chewed the small fruit slowly, licking her lips, and John swallowed thickly, the pair covered lightly in the makings of an ice cream sundae. 

Cherish suddenly came on the radio and Claire blushed as she looked away, picking up a spoon before scooping some ice cream from her bowl and bringing it up to his lips, John took the bite slowly before licking his lips and swallowing. 

They stared at each other a moment before Claire started to giggle, “You look ridiculous.” 

“Like you’re any better, Sweets.” he leaned in and licked some caramel from her cheek which was both funny and arousing and Claire hummed softly as her hands pressed around his waist and she leaned in, “Gonna kiss me?” she asked. 

John nodded once before he leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss. The next hour was them cleaning up the mess they made and each other as they listened to the radio and talked about the music they liked as well as the bands that were really hot at the moment. They ate their bowls of ice cream and even talked about an upcoming concert. Aside from a few heavy metal bands that Claire wasn’t overly fond of they had somewhat similar tastes and while Claire had finished her glass of wine she felt much better. 

Whatever tension had been there in the car ride it was gone now and they were just two friends having a really good time. Nothing heavy, and the goofiness she was seeing in John as the night progressed seemed to be much more natural to him than the tough guy asshole he presented. 

In fact, if Claire were honest, John Bender was a huge goof, funny, and surprisingly chill. He seemed much more content to just exist with her than focus on the very obvious sexual tension and as they cleaned up the counter and put everything away John kept messing with her. He’d do funny voices, and make jokes, he goosed her twice and threw the dish rag over his face and pretended to be blind so he could trip into her and grope her boobs. 

She was laughing so much her sides hurt and at one point she abandoned her empty glass and just grabbed the bottle, taking a small swig before handing it to John who smelled it before shrugging and taking a sip. 

He seemed surprised by how good it tasted and held onto the bottle as he wrapped an arm around her, hoisting her up before dragging her backward out of the kitchen and towards the living room, “This is you, swooning into my arms.” he said and Claire was giggling as she wiggled playfully and tried to escape. 

He eventually plopped her down onto the couch and as he sat down next to her Claire shifted to straddle him, a gloved hand coming to her back as she cupped his face and delivered many soft kisses. John opened up to her and as the music from the kitchen slowly made its way to them Claire hummed. 

“You wanna show me your room, princess?” John asked softly against her lips. 

Claire sighed, biting her bottom lip in thought as she debated, “I don’t know. It’s kind of messy. It’s honestly a bit embarrassing.” 

“Mmm, well the way I see it, can’t be worse than old Brainy-Boy walking in on me while I’m trying to feel you up.” 

Claire snorted, “Oh god.” she laughed softly before meeting his gaze and gently rubbing at his chest, “Alright…but…no making fun of me.” 

“Scout's honor,” John said as he crossed his heart and Claire shifted off of him, taking the wine bottle from him to take a drink before she led him through the house. 

This would be the first time he’d seen any more of her house, and to say Claire was a little nervous was obvious. The first time John had been here he got upset about how nice her place was, and she really didn’t want him to get pissed again. The more she thought about it the more she realized his anger at her situation was dumb and immature. But truthfully, she had a feeling it was more about feeling inadequate and insecure than jealous. 

She led him down a short hall to the foyer as she took another swig and John let out a long high whistle, “You’re dad have to get a permit to build this hotel?” 

“Psh, whatever.” Claire scoffed. 

“I’m serious, if he were to rent out rooms by the hour he’d make bank.” Claire laughed a little harder as she shushed him and John chuckled at her amused face and happy smile, “Come on, just watch your step.” and she lead him towards the stairs. 

“Lead the way, Princess!” John said as he grabbed the bottle back and took a stiff swig, allowing Claire to drag him up the flight of stairs by the wrist and towards the second floor. 

As she led him down the long cream-colored halls she snickered, “Mom would kill me if she found out you were in my room…or in the house for that matter.” 

“No need to tell her, I won’t if you won’t,” John said as his head swiveled from side to side, looking in rooms and doorways as well as at the art and pictures on the wall. 

“Oh hell no, that you cherry!?” and he stopped and looked at a picture of what seemed to be a ten-year-old Claire, with braces, glasses, frizzy red hair, and a goofy Christmas sweater on, “Oh no-” Claire breathed softly, “Come on, don’t look. That picture is absolutely horrible.” 

And John brought a fist to his mouth which he bit but even that wasn’t enough to stop him, “You get electrocuted before this picture was taken?” 

“Mom wouldn’t let me use her irons until I was twelve. Come on, don’t look at that hideous picture! It’s not real, it’s your imagination.” she said and John shook his head before letting Claire lead him further down the hall to a white door with painted flowers on it, “Ignore the shitty paint, my brother and I did it when I was like five.” 

“Very pretty flowers.” John mocked gently and Claire snorted. 

“Welcome to my room-” Claire said with dread, taking the wine bottle from him and taking another drink as she crossed her arms and looked around, “My beautiful chaos.” 

“Hoooly shiiiit.” he whispered out. There were dozens of bolts of unused fabric tossed about, piles upon piles of what looked to be dime store clothes waiting for torment. A sewing machine was in the corner and the walls were covered in drawings and renderings of dresses and clothing designs. There were pin-cushions, measuring tapes, an entire case of different threads, two different sewing dummies, one male and one female that were resting on poles near what John could only assume was a closet, and a vanity coated in all kinds of different makeup containers.  

“Jesus, Cherry, you’re totally obsessed.” he said and Claire nodded, “I’ve never shown anyone my room before. You’re the first. It’s like…my secret laboratory.” and she handed him the wine bottle, John nodding as he took a drink and moved around the room slowly, taking it all in before turning to look at the large queen size bed, the only thing in the room that was neat and tidy, covered in multiple pillows of varying shapes and sizes.

“If my mom had her way, this would all be gone and I wouldn’t even bother.” 

John crossed to the bed and picked up the lone teddy bear, complete with a red bow before he tossed it back onto the bed and ran a hand across the blankets, “Why’s that?” he asked. 

“This is just a hobby to her. She doesn’t get that I don’t want to be a kept woman. She didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, but I do. So…I’m trying to…just…figure it out I guess.” 

 John nodded before he turned from the bed, walking over to the window seat and glancing at the sketches of models Claire had made with clothes that seemed pretty high-end. 

“Wow, you’re pretty good, Sweets. No Michelangelo, but this shit ain’t bad.” He said, looking at the figure Claire had sketched out and the outfit she had designed. The shading and highlights were on point and the model looked both classy as well as sexy, though the face had no features yet John could clearly see the stylized drawing held within it a lot of potentials. 

“Thanks.” she said softly and John looked at her as she leaned against his side and studied her own drawing, “You shared your dream with me, so I shared mine with you.” Claire said and John’s brow raised, “My dream?” 

“Yeah, your car restoration shop. With the lake and race track…in the woods…just us,” she said as she smiled up at him, her cheeks a rosy pink and her eyes only slightly glazed. 

“Yeah, just us.” he mused softly, their eyes meeting and Claire leaning up to give him a soft kiss. 

Claire smiled and then started to back up slowly, John watching with curious but hard eyes as she reaches her bed where she gets on, resting on her knees and holding out her arms to him as she says softly, “C’mere.” 

John hones in on her, realizing very quickly this is it, they had arrived at a moment in time that would allow him to be close to her again as he slowly walked over. He set the wine bottle on the bedside table softly, his eyes not leaving hers as he moved to stand next to the edge of the bed. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly and Claire hesitated before she shifted forward on her knees and her hands came to his hips, slowly sliding and pressing under his shirt to glide up his chest and raise the fabric out of her way. 

She saw how John’s head plopped back, a soft sigh leaving his lips as his hands gently came to run fingers through her hair and coax her higher. Claire’s lips pressed to his stomach, the hot skin that rested underneath his clothes feeling smooth and soft. 

“I…want to try touching you….down there.” 

John froze, his hands tightening just a little in her hair as he pulls her head back so she is looking up at him and he looked down at her, “You sure?” he asked, a hand sliding from her hair to grasp her jaw gently and Claire can already tell he’s got a hard on. 

She doesn’t say a word, only nods once and John bites his bottom lip as he whispers a soft, “Okay.” Claire’s hands slide back down his stomach before wrapping around his belt and pulling him slowly onto the bed. 

It occurs to her how pliant John has suddenly become, not telling her what to do or offering up ideas. He is silent, coming to straddle her thighs as she lays back and pulls him over her. He’s letting her call the shots and she’s feeling less nervous as each second ticks by. 

“Can I see the marks now?” he asks softly, his forehead pressing against her own as his hand slowly cups a breast and gives the gentlest squeeze and Claire nods as she undoes the belt around her waist and then says, “Help me get it off.” 

John slowly pressed up her sweater dress, helping to remove it and unsnagging an earring that got caught in the fabric. Claire is still feeling comfortable in her leggings and bra as John rests above her, his knees digging into the bed on either side of her thighs as his fingers pull at the edge of her bra to reveal her breast and the marks he left. 

“Fuckin’-A.” he whispered and his fingers trace around each mark before giving a soft pinch to her hard nipple and Claire gasps, “How you wanna do this, Princess?” he asks before leaning down to take the perfectly pink nipple into his mouth and Claire’s fingers feather through his hair, holding his head close as her eyes flutter closed and she licks her lips. 

She doesn’t say anything and after a moment one hand slides away from his head and shifts back down in between them. She finds the edge of his pants and slowly presses, John giving a pained grunt against her breasts as his sucking intensifies and she feels him shift a little higher up. 

Fingers glide through soft hair as her palm bravely connects with his length and slides down to the base, her mind squealing a little in both excitement and shock as her cheeks burn and she bites her bottom lips hard. 

She palms his length, the skin soft but hot as a hint of fluid rests on the tip, her thumb gently swiping across it before she continues to feel and caress John’s manhood, “Jesus, fuck me-” John groans softly into her hear, his voice quiet but stressed as he gives the faintest jerk against her hand. 

“Fuck Claire, stop teasing…Jesus-” John breaths out as his teeth suddenly bite gently at her neck and Claire panics a little, suddenly pressing him up and over. An awkward shift occurs before she gets him on his back and straddles his knees, her hands pressing to his shoulders and holding him down. 

Granted, he could take back control far too easily but Claire hopes to God, that he just lets her have her way. 

“Lay still…don’t move…let me figure this out, okay?” and John’s brow furrows, “It doesn’t come with instructions, Claire, it’s pretty obvious what you do-” but she holds a finger to his lips and leans closer as she says, “I know what to do with it, John…I am asking you to be patient while I get comfortable with the idea. Okay? If I’m gonna do this…I want to be…comfortable doing it.” 

John looks confused but doesn’t say much aside from, “Alright…take your time, Cherry. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Thanks,” she whispers before she gives him a soft kiss and then sits up straight, her eyes darting between John’s curious face and his dark gray jeans. Her hands slide up his thighs and she hears the sigh and slight moan that escape him as her fingers take his belt and undo it, her heart pounding in her chest as the butterflies in her stomach flap mercilessly. 

She doesn’t feel sick, but her excitement is coupled with dread, if he doesn’t enjoy this will he want to stick around? She tries to tell herself that John has made it very clear several times that sex and sexual things are not an end-all-be-all of his being around her. And she wants more than anything to believe him and give him that trust. 

Claire wants to explore this side of herself and she is honestly tired of always aching for his attention when he’s right there in front of her. She just doesn’t want him to leave after, she doesn’t want him to use her. She wants everything they do together to mean as much to him as it does to her. 

If you want to do it, you need to do it, and if things don’t work out…you have Allison. She’ll be there, you have a friend. You won’t be left alone. It’s going to be okay, just…enjoy it. Be brave. You want to do it, so do it- she thinks to herself. 

Her hands pop open the button of his jeans before slowly sliding down the zipper and at the feeling of fingers grazing up her arms she glances to see John’s eyes are closed and his head is back, his hands gently reassuring her, though she isn’t sure if that is his intent or not. She still takes comfort in the gesture and smiles softly before she pulled the flaps of his jeans apart and spies his boxers, red and waiting. 

She swallows, licks her lips, and thinks about if she is really ready for this and if her comfort level has eased. She reaches out a hand running fingers across John’s brow and his eyes crack open to look at her, “You ready?” she asks and John asks back, “Are you? It’s okay if you aren’t. This isn’t a requirement ya know.” he whispers out and Claire nods, “I know.” 

She studies his face, the sharp nose, and thin lips, the thick swallow and the bob of his adam’s apple as his jaw clenches and he breaths in through his nose. 

Warmth floods her, the butterflies increase a little and her heart seems to palpate in her chest before she brings her hand back down and from his boxers pulls out his length. She looks at it, her brain instantly connecting it to John, relaxing a little more as she realizes she is holding John Bender’s dick in her hands. 

She bites her bottom lip in an attempt to stop the smile and small giggle, “It’s bigger than I thought-” she admitted and John’s eyes clenched close as he let out a blast of a laugh, “Be sure to tell Sporto that. In detail….Jesus Christ I can’t believe this shit-” he chuckles as he looks at her and Claire was giggling too only for her smile to fade as his eyes drop from her face to her hands and Claire felt his dick twitch, “Fuck-” he whispers and Claire knows she needs to actually make an effort. 

She slowly starts to rub only to feel the friction of her palms on his skin and she feels how thin and delicate it was. She stops again and hears John let out a grunt, “Dear God, Sweets, please-” he groans and Claire scoffs, “Hold on.” she leans, a small grunt escaping as she is just barely able to finger the edge of her lilac lotion on her nightstand. She grabs it just as it tips to fall off and makes a noise of success. 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this-” she whispers, more about the fact she is using her fifty-dollar bottle of lotion for such a lude act. John’s eyes grow as he sees what she grabbed. She quickly pumps a dollop onto her palm before rubbing her hands together and then takes up his length again, finally starting to pump her hand slowly. 

She hears John’s massive exhale and sees how his hands fist at the bedding and his hips rise and fall slowly. She turns to look over her shoulder and sees the heels of his boots digging into her bed and Claire suddenly smiles. 

“Good?” she asks and John nods quickly, “G-Good…perfect…just a little f-faster…” John breathes and Claire complies. His hands cup up to his face, elbows pointing towards the ceiling as he grunts hard into his hands. 

One of her hands comes up, pressing along his stomach which she feels pull tight and his hands plop back down to the bed as his head cranks back towards the headboard, “Fuck fuck fuck-” he whispers and Claire glides her way up until she feels a hard nipple and decides to pinch it. 

John jerks, his hands smacking onto her upper thighs and squeezing and Claire’s hand on his length slows down, “N-No….don’t slow down, Claire….k-keep going-” he whispers and Claire feels something inside of her shift a little, a desire to torture him a little longer, she wants to watch him squirm just a little. She wants to hear his breathy voice and every swear word and hear him whine like that. 

The butterflies are gone and her face is warm and there is moisture building between her thighs and she licks her lips as she presses her hand up further, popping out of the neck of his shirt as her nails gently drag along his neck and then slide around to cup the back of his head. 

She’s debating, she knows what’s going to happen if she can get him to the end. How should she deal with the mess? She really doesn’t want it getting on her bedspread but she doesn’t have anything to catch it with. 

Allison said she gave Andy a blow job, she didn’t share what she did at the end. Should she stop and get a towel? Or just let him make a mess all over himself and her bed? She could use her mouth but the idea was extremely gross. Her nose crinkled a little at the idea but as she continued to tease him and explore his body she realized this might be the only time she does this. She isn’t sure if she’ll have the guts to do it again and she is honestly curious even if it grosses her out. 

She withdrawals her wondering hand, shifting back a little further on his legs as her other hand speeds up again, and John jerks and twitches a little, “Fuck yes…little faster…near the head…the tip…Jesus fucking Christ-” he breaths and Claire complies, feeling his whole body going stiff and she leans down over her moving hand. 

To her surprise John starts groaning, loudly, spitting affirmations and profanity like it’s holy praise into the air of her room. Claire waits, watching his face with wide and entranced eyes as she feels his body jerk once more and then stiffens, his hips raising hard and Claire hopes she timed this right. She slides her hand down his length and takes his tip into her mouth. 

The smell and taste of her lotion hit her nose as the muscles in John’s length suddenly flexed hard and she feels a hot liquid spurt thick into her mouth. She gags instantly but manages to maintain composure as the salty glue-like substance coats her tongue and the inside of her cheeks. 

She feels his length flex again and more liquid spurts as she feels more than sees his hands come into her hair and hold her still, his hips sliding his length into her mouth a little further and John is gasping, “Fuck yes, Jesus Christ, fuck fuck fuck, fuck yes…oh my god, Jesus Claire-” 

Another flex, a smaller spurt, and Claire is trying not to gag as the heat in her lower stomach burns brighter and the moisture between her thighs grows unabashedly. She’s hot, and she knows it, and if she was braver she would have done more. 

“Look at me-” she hears John say breathlessly and Claire opens her eyes, his length still in her mouth as their gazes meet. She knows her eyes are watering and her nose is suddenly running as she tries not to gag, the taste of his fluid in her mouth is not as disgusting as she expected, but the idea of having someone else’s fluids in her mouth makes her a little grossed out. 

“Swallow-” John whispers, and Claire hesitates. She’d planned to spit it out but as he runs fingers down her cheeks and whispers out a soft, “Swallow it baby-” Claire manages to swallow, her cheeks growing red as he swears and then sits up. Claire finally does the same, wiping at her mouth and at her watering eyes which were still wet due to having gaged multiple times. 

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to hers, “No…gross…I need to brush my teeth-” 

“No, you don’t.” John counters quickly before he falls sideways and wraps one of his legs over hers, holding her against him as he continues to kiss her slow and deep, their tongues tangling as he moaned. 

When he pulls away and presses their foreheads together Claire manages to ask, “Was that okay?” 

John pulls back and looks at her in shock, “You’re joking right?” 

Claire shakes her head and doesn’t say anything and John scoffs, “Sweetness, that was one of the best hand jobs I’ve ever had.” 

“Yeah?” she asks in surprise, “Swear to fuckin’ god. I’d think you were a pro if I didn’t know better,” he assured, pressing his lips to her throat and peppering kisses softly. 

“Good.” she says softly, “You alright?” he suddenly asks and Claire nods again, “Yeah. I’m actually alright. I feel…pretty proud that I was able to make it happen for you. At least I know I’m good at it.” 

“Mmm, you’re great at it. And while I deeply care about your emotional well-being, I was actually talking about this-” John's fingers grazed over her womanhood, just barely dragging over the top of her leggings, and Claire’s hips suddenly jerked as she moaned into his shoulder. 

“Mm, seem pretty worked up…want me to-” 

“I’m fine.” Claire says even though her mind is full of thoughts about his hands sliding and pressing, “I don’t know if I’m ready for you to touch me like that.” 

His hand suddenly slides between her legs, pressing against the fabric and she gasps as John whispers, “Jesus Christ you’re soaked, babe…let me-” 

“Okay,” she says suddenly, her mind changing quickly after feeling his fingers rub against her. She fists at his plaid shirt as she presses her face into his chest, “You sure?” he asks again. 

“Yeah…just…do whatever…take care of it…I’m good.” she assured and John shifts as he kisses the side of her face, “I’ll take care of it and then some, Sweets.” and before Claire can say anything else his hand is pressing past the fabric of her leggings and sliding under her panties, moving through her soft mound of hair and coming to touch at her nub. 

“Jesus, you’re fucking soaking wet-” John whispers and he holds her tighter as his fingers start to move and Claire feels the same heat as before flood her body, her hips jerking and her stomach clenching and she finds herself pressing lips to John’s throat, kissing and biting softly. 

His fingers move quick, sliding around her entrance before coming back up to rub at her nub and Claire starts to shake and pant, John’s lips pressing to her ear, “Relax, Cherry, I got it…relax…deep breath-” and Claire takes a deep breath and tries to ease herself out of this worked up mess. 

She wants to blame the wine but she really didn’t drink enough to impair her judgment and honestly most of this is left over from when she was touching John. 

The pleasure built fast, and Claire gasped his name as she spilled over. She went much quicker than John had but as she moaned and whined into his neck he kissed her temple, cheek, and head, swearing as she swooned and matching her ebb into completion with slower gentle strokes. 

After, the pair lay on Claire’s bed in silence, kissing and touching each other with a slow and easy air about them. The rush of it all had burned out and now the only thing Claire wanted was to stay nestled into him, curled up and coiled around him. Kissing him and breathing in his scent and whispering things to him that made John laugh or scoff as she giggled and hummed. 

“It’s getting late,” Claire said. 

“I can stay a little longer.” John said as he pressed hair out of her eyes and Claire yawned, “Okay. Good. Wanna stay forever? You can live in my closet.” 

John just chuckled, "As if you have room in there."  He settled down beside her and Claire pulled the quilt from the end of her bed up over them. She pressed her face into his neck and closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his body emanate into him. 

“I need to shower.” she mused petulantly. 

“Mmm, me too. Save water if we shower together.” John teased. 

“Mm, no. I don’t trust myself with you. I’d probably bend over and say ‘yes, please.’” her sleepy voice filled with levity. 

“What are we waiting for?” John asked and Claire smiled, “Nice try.” 

“No…I mean…what are we waiting for…are you still not ready?” his voice was more curious than anything and Claire’s eyes opened a little, her finger running gently along his collarbone as she said, “I don’t know. I just…guess I’m still not sure if it’s what I want or if…” 

“We’ve gone pretty far.” John offered and Claire felt his hand glide up her thigh and around to her butt, squeezing and messaging gently as he leaned over her and pressed a kiss to her jaw, “I could…we could…go slow…nice and easy…on your back…spread your thighs and I could-" but John suddenly stops as he realizes he's about to roll on top of her and he swears, "….fuck….damn it…I think it’s time to go.” John said as he slowly sat up, Claire finally sitting up as well as she itched at her nose and sighed, “Yeah. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even joked about it. I don’t know why I keep doing this to you. Asking you to stay when I know it’ll just make things more complicated. I don’t mean to be a bitch about it.” 

John turned to look at her, “You’re not a bitch, alright? I-” and he stopped long enough to run hands down his face before he stood from the bed and fished his smokes out of the pocket of his coat. He crossed to the large window seat and unlocked the windows, as he lit a smoke and stood there in thought. Claire was still on the bed, her bra and leggings in place as she waited, “I didn’t mean to pressure you like that. I’m not…I’m not like that. I just don’t normally have to wait and…after what we’ve done…part of me thinks it’s stupid. But…I’m not like my old man, okay? I can respect your boundaries or whatever.” 

Claire finally stood from the bed, walking over and wrapping an arm around his waist as she stood with him, “I know. But, I’m pretty happy with how things turned out tonight. I was so nervous, a total spaz.” 

John looked at her and after a moment smiled and blew out the smoke as he chuckled, “Ya you were. You were wound tight as a spring coil all freaking day. Must have really dreaded the idea of going down on me. Still can’t believe the Prom Queen swallowed my load. No one's ever gonna believe me.” 

Claire suddenly looked at him, stepping back as her eyes narrowed, “Don’t tell anyone. Please? Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want people thinking-” 

John scoffed, “Duh. Ease off, Princess. Your secret is safe with me. I was speaking figuratively. None of their damn business anyway. I won’t say shit.” John offered. 

“Thanks.” Claire huffed in relief as she plopped down onto the window seat and held her hands together between her thighs. 

John continued to watch her, taking in her now shaken demeanor as he knew this wasn’t just about her reputation. Claire genuinely wanted to keep her sex life private and though John was less inclined to care what people knew about his sex life he understood why Claire was a little more concerned. 

He knew it was different for girls, and the things that were said and could be implied and the bullying at their school was no different than anywhere else. Even the nerds would get in on it sometimes if they felt particularly bad about themselves. 

John tossed his finished smoke out the window and came to stand before her, looking down and placing his hand atop her head, “Besides, if I tell people I’ll never get to see you with my dick hanging out of your mouth again.” 

Claire jerked her face up to look at him with wide eyes before she let out a rather indignant huff and stood, “You are such a pig!” and she marched away and towards her bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind her only to lean hard against it and after a moment smile softly. 

Page Break 

As Claire pulled up to the same spot she had dropped him the night before John leaned over and turned her face so he could give a deep and sultry kiss on her delicious lips. 

John hadn't expected to find himself in a position where he didn't want to leave her. He pressed his face into her neck and kissed the soft skin before resting there, eyes closed and body calm. 

He felt her hands come up to thread gently through his hair and he let out a soft pant of breath, "Want me to drop you closer?" Claire asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and John just shook his head softly, swallowing as he continued to focus on her fingers touching him so gently. 

Being touched like that is the fucking best….

He lets out a soft sigh, resigning himself to the next eight hours without her as he pulls away and says softly, "I'll see you tomorrow, Sweetness." 

Claire studies him a moment before she nods and asks, "Coffee?" 

John smirks, "Yeah, sounds good. I'll call ya in 30 minutes. Get home." He exits the car and walks around to her window, giving her another kiss before she bids him good night and takes off. 

He watches her car until it's completely out of his sight, then turns and heads down the sidewalk. He lights a cigarette, noting the darkness is only cut by the pale sharp glow of a handful of street lights that still work. 

He keeps his wits about him, listening as he walks down the quiet street and watches for cars that might try and creep up on him. This neighborhood is one of the worse-for-wear areas of Shermer and while he's never had too much trouble walking at night, he has been jumped before and mugged once. 

Not to mention the occasional sicko that liked to try and get kids to go for a ride. John had actually chased off a few pervs over the years. Hell, he recently grabbed a girl out of the road before she was plowed over by an asshole who had been high on god knows what. 

To say walking home this late at night was a bit unnerving wasn't even close to the truth. But there was no way in hell he was going to let Claire drive down this way either. It wasn't just her seeing the wreck of a house he lived in, it was also for safety. He didn’t want anyone to take notice of the rich car and pretty girl that kept dropping him off. 

He didn't want her to have to deal with the smackheads, perverts, or gangs. The further away she stayed from this part of town the better. 

While he kept his senses keen and his eyes sharp he mulled over the night he'd just shared with Claire. 

He let out a slow breath of smoke as he rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to imitate how she had cupped his neck only to find it wasn't the same. 

God, she's such a damn tease…but….she actually sucked my dick….put it in her mouth…gave me a hand job….and it was fucking good. And…surreal….no one has ever been that focused on me before. It was… intense. And every single time she touched me…it was so damn gentle….she even used lotion….that's way more considerate than I expected her to be.

John let out a blast of a laugh, the thing bordering on disbelief as he recalled how she'd started only to stop and grab lotion, an act which would make things far more enjoyable for him. It was hell getting a hand job without lube, always left your junk chaffed. 

But she wasn't the type of girl to spit in her hand, and despite the fact, that his dick now smelled like flowers John knew that was the best hand job he'd ever had. He was stumped, at first, as to why that was true but it didn't take long before his brain put two and two together. 

It's because she actually likes me….she isn't using me as a means to an end or just doing me a favor in return for a bag of dope. It felt better because she actually cared about making you feel good….about…getting you off. It… meant something to her. 

John scoffed hard as he shook his head, "Idiot." He murmured to himself, feeling really fucking stupid for even thinking something so romantic as that. John had no doubt that Claire considered their more intimate moments together special, but he highly doubted she found him blowing a load in her mouth, romantic or meaningful. 

John found his legs growing weak and he stopped and leaned against a tree as he finished his smoke, one arm crossing his chest as he stared in pensive silence at the ground. 

What the fuck are you doing with a girl like her? The fuck you thinking, telling her to swallow like that? Jesus, you really are a pig. It was just so God damn hot seeing her mouth on my….fuck…she probably felt pretty shitty about it. Well….maybe not, she didn't seem upset after and she let you touch her pussy. 

John shivered, looking up through the leaves of the tree and trying to spy the stars. The light pollution was still a little too thick even though his neighborhood was one of the furthest away from the city. 

He finally stood now that his legs didn't feel like jello and continued his walk home. His mind went back over everything, the whole night. The ice cream sundae war, the dancing, and music, sipping wine and talking, how she had shared her dreams with him….took him to her bed….touched him like he mattered to her….like what they did together was some sacred act of love.

Wouldn’t that be the day, the princess in love with the criminal….how fucking cliche….how fucking dumb….how fucking….no one loves you…and you don’t love anyone…but I suppose….if I was going to love someone….it would be someone like her….someone who isn’t ruined and fucked up and…someone who hasn’t ever hit anyone….hasn’t hurt anyone…whose never had blood on her hands….

John cursed sharply as he chucked the burnt-up cigarette and pulled out another, noticing his pack was almost empty. 

Another $2.50 down the drain. But fuck if these things don't make me feel better. 

He was nearly home and slowed his walk as he looked through the freezing dark to see his old man's truck wasn't in the driveway. He carefully peered around the thick tree line that separated his house from the neighbor's house and noticed the garage door was open and the light was on. 

The faint sound of metal on metal and a curse met his ears. John stood up, remaining on the far side of the tree line as he debated. He took a drag and closed his eyes, his mind leaving Claire and the amazing night he’d just had behind him as he debated on what to do. 

If he was quiet he could make it across the driveway and around the house to his bedroom window. But that’s only if his old man wasn’t fucking drunk. If he was sober he’d be focused on the truck…if he was drunk…he probably wasn’t actually working on the truck but waiting for John to come home and do it for him. 

“Please let him be sober, please let that stupid fuck head be sober,” John whispered as he turned and slowly walked down the sidewalk, keeping his head down and hoping to God if his old man saw him, he’d think he was a stranger walking by. 

He turned down the driveway, skirting to the left in hopes of getting off the gravel and onto the grass where his feet wouldn’t make noise. He was halfway across the front yard when his entire body froze, eyes wide as he saw his mother sitting on the front porch swing, a cigarette perched in her hand as dark eyes locked with his. 

John’s heart twisted anxiously as he shook his head no and his mother slowly stood, leaning over the railing and cocking a brow, “Please-” John whispered faintly, his mother frowned, “He was home all day….because you didn’t help him fix that piece of crap truck. It’s your turn.” 

“M-Ma-” he whispered, “Don’t-” 

“Miiiiiles, Johnny’s home!” She called in a lackluster voice as she turned to go inside, John sagging as he closed his eyes and tried not to cry, “Your dinner’s in the microwave. Eat it when he’s done with you, then go to bed.” his mother said, her voice filled with nearly no emotion. 

John just stood there, staring at his boots as he waited and it didn’t take long, “Johnny?! You home, boy? Get in here would ya? I need your help! Hurry up!” 

John’s jaw clenched and his hands fisted but even though he was angry at his mother he really couldn’t hold it against her. She’d dealt with the bastard all day because John hadn’t helped him fix the truck. No doubt, John got his spitefulness from her. 

John turned and slowly walked towards the garage, his steps heavy as he kept his head down and tried not to let his mouth say anything that could get the man riled up. 

He entered the garage and came around to the front of the truck, looking at the engine as his dad remained bent over it and working. 

Smoke rose from his cigar, and an unopened beer bottle sat on the edge of the workbench. John glanced around and noticed that was the only bottle which meant he hadn’t started drinking yet. 

“Get me a ⅜,” his dad said and John dutifully turned and went to the toolbox, digging for the socket and not wasting time. 

He came back and held it out to the man, who took it without looking up and John continued to stand in silence. His dad put the socket on his wrench and hunched back over. The silence was thick but John didn’t move a muscle, he stood there, silent and still, waiting for the next thing to fetch. 

“Where were you?” his dad suddenly asked, not looking up at him nor sounding actually interested. 

John didn’t say anything at first, glancing around the garage one more time and taking in the lack of bottles, “I said where were you.” his dad repeated though the anger in his voice was very faint. 

“I was…out with friends-” John's voice cracked and he cleared his throat, “What?” his dad asked as he looked up at him and John corrected quickly, “Out with friends, sir.” 

“Eh, watcha do? Go to a party?” and his dad took the cigar from his mouth and tapped the ash from the tip onto the floor, John swallowed as he said softly, “I, uh…dinner. We went to dinner and saw…saw a movie.” John’s throat suddenly felt dry and so he cleared it again as he waited, “You gettin’ sick? His dad asked, putting the cigar back in his mouth before he reached a hand down under the engine and felt around, “No, sir.” John replied, his hands fisting tightly in his pockets as his heart beat a little faster. 

“Mm. See if you can get your hand down there, the damn socket won’t come loose, I’ll get the spray.” John only nodded and as his dad moved away he carefully inserted his hand and reached down for the socket, his eyes closing as he focused on his task and prayed to god he could get the damn thing off. 

“Where’d you get the money for dinner and a movie?” his dad suddenly asked and John froze, his hand on the socket as he swallowed and his brow furrowed, “I uh…my friends…they covered me. I mean…I h-had some money from…uh…helping Jake at his garage but…just enough for dinner. They covered the movie for me.” he only told a half lie because if he admitted that the Breakfast Club had paid for everything no doubt his dad would go off on him about hand-outs and being a mooch. 

Stay calm, answer his questions…do what he says…stay calm…don’t get mad…don’t show fear…stay calm…you haven’t done anything wrong. 

Does that matter? His father’s voice cuts in near the back of his mind. 

John’s eyes squeeze tightly as he managed to get the socket loose and pulls it out, holding it out to his dad who is taking a rag to one of his bigger wrenches to clean off some oil, “Mm, so…they got money. They sell drugs?” 

“No, sir,” John says as he swallows and stands there holding the socket out like a dumb ass, “Do I know them? Their folks?” 

Not likely shit head- 

John swallowed, his brow knitting together as he dismissed that thought as quickly as it came, “No. They uh…I met them…last Saturday…in detention. They’re uh…nice.” 

John felt red explode across his cheeks. 

They’re fucking nice…. did you just call them nice!? What the  fuck is wrong with you!!! 

“I mean…ya know…cool, chill…like…regular kids.” John’s face was burning now, both from humility and fear because his dad was giving him the eye. It was a very specific eye, one brow up, the other down, and a lone eye staring out the side of his face, cigar sitting between his teeth as he nodded, “So, nice kids who buy ya dinner and take ya to movies…and keep you out past midnight.” 

John didn’t know what to say to that and so just stood there, hand still holding the socket out to him like a fucking stupid ass hole as he felt his legs begin to shake a little, “You were supposed to help me fix the truck.” his dad mused as he turned and set the wrench down on the bench behind him. 

“I…forgot.” John said, “Sorry.” his jaw clenched, his eyes still staring at the floor because he didn’t want to know what his father’s face looked like now. No sorry was ever good enough and every explanation was seen as an excuse. 

“You dumb or just lazy?” his dad asked suddenly, his voice still soft but John heard the drag of metal on wood and looked up, seeing his dad’s hand was grabbing a familiar leather strap with the bent-up buckle across the top. 

“I just…I…I’m sorry. I’m…I can fix it now. I’m here now.” John offered, his eyes locked onto the leather strap as his dad came to hold it in his hands, “Uh-huh, you sure are. And I missed a whole day of work…because you forgot . That’s our livelihood, but you wouldn’t know much about that. You don’t work…or support a family…you don’t do much ‘round here at all, do you.” 

John’s arm dropped, the socket hitting the floor as he said, “Please don’t.” 

“I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so god damned lazy, would I!” his dad suddenly yelled as he slammed the strap down hard on the wooden work surface. 

John jerked back, arms coming to cover his face and chest as he hunched down in front of the truck, “Fucking pathetic. Stand up, Johnny.” John didn’t move, he knew he should, but he honestly felt frozen. 

“I said get the fuck up, boy!” and John felt a hand grip into his hair and yank him up, John’s hands instantly reached out and grabbed his dad by the front of his jack, “Fuck off!” he suddenly yelled only to freeze, his face growing pale as his old man stared daggers at him. 

“The hell you just say to me?” his dad asked in a rather breathy voice and John swallowed before he shook his head and said, “Nothing.” 

“No?” 

“No!” John assured. 

They stared at each other a moment before John winced when his dad made an odd face and leaned in, taking a deep inhale of breath through his nose before a rather perverse smile came to his face, “You been with a girl.” 

John felt his heart twist and his gut drop down near his knees as he waited, “Phew, she smells nice, Johnny. That’s rich girl perfume. Who have you been screwing? That why you just got home?” 

John swallowed, debating heavily on what he should say. He didn’t want to tell his dad about Claire, not a single word, he didn’t want to describe her, he didn’t want to tell him where she lived, he didn’t want to tell the old bastard anything about her, not even the color of her eyes. 

“Answer me or I’ll tan your hide good.” he warned and John felt his eyes water as he nodded, “Y-Yes, sir. Been with a girl.” 

His dad eased his hold, letting him go before he turned and walked over to the bench, grabbing up the beer and popping the top off via the edge of the table, “Hot damn. Well, at least you weren’t being lazy.” and his dad chuckled as he took a drink. 

John let out a long slow breath, his whole body feeling incredibly weak all of a sudden as he swayed a little and tried to keep from shaking. 

“She good in bed?” his old man asked, winking and John sneered but looked away, his disgust about the situation the last thing he wanted his father to see, “Eh, don’t matter if she was or wasn’t. Long as you got yours, right?” 

John wanted to vomit, he wanted to cry, he wanted to scream and throw shit and take that belt his old man was still holding and whip it across the bastard's face over and over until he didn’t move anymore. 

“Right,” John whispered. 

His dad took one long swig before he handed John the bottle and the seventeen-year-old reluctantly took it. 

“Drink up, Johnny. It’s good for ya.” his dad patted him fondly on the upper arm. 

Fucking psycho- 

But John put the bottle to his lips and took a sip, his old man clicking his tongue as his fingers came to the bottom of the bottle and pressed it up, forcing John to down the remaining beer, “Ah, good boy. There ya go. A drink with the old man. Best way to celebrate a new conquest. Now get your ass over here and help me get the belt off.” and John notices his dad set the strap down as he headed for the truck. 

John set the bottle aside and though he felt faint he leaned over the engine with his dad who pointed, “So, where did we leave off last time…come on, get over the engine, look… Do you remember the carburetor?” 

John nodded, “Good. The thing is all gunked the fucked up. It's that new bullshit gasoline, doesn't sit right in these older engines. So...what's the first thing you do after you removed it from the truck?” and he waited as John swallowed and managed out faintly, “Remove the butterfly valves.” 

“Good, now-” 

John looked away for a second, his eyes closing to try and ease the ache that was suddenly forming in his head only to feel a sharp smack on his cheek, “Hey, focus, this shit is important, you want to fix your own cars or pay some schmuck to do it.” 

“Sorry…headache.” John murmured as he looked back only to notice his dad wasn’t talking and so he looked up and met the man’s sharp eyes, which were staring at him without blinking, “I…sorry… I got it, I’m listening.” John assured. 

His eyes snapped shut when his dad’s hand came to the back of his head gripping his hair tightly as he shoved him down closer to the engine, “Work through it and fucking pay attention, ya little shit.” and his dad continued on, his hand eventually loosening from John’s hair but his hand still resting on his head as he talked. 

John felt the heat from his dad’s palm burning into the back of his head and heard the man’s now soft voice explaining what they were going to do and how they were going to do it. 

He smelled the stench of cigars and the dirt of the garage and his eyes glanced to the man’s face, calm and open as he continued to speak.

Why…can’t you be normal? Why…why are you like this? Why do you hate me? Why can’t you just…be…normal. 

Anger flared in his stomach, yet it was his eyes that betrayed him, suddenly filling with tears and John turned his head away, feeling his dad’s hand slide off as John coughed, “S-sorry.” he held up a finger, “S-sorry…I’m...fine.” his throat had suddenly clenched when his eyes watered and he choked as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes, “Fuck me.” John whispered, using the coughing as an excuse to wipe at his eyes. 

He turned back to his dad and saw him leaning against the front of the truck with arms crossed and watching him, eyes narrow and cigar missing. 

John’s eyes widened as he realized, his own eyes glancing to the engine where a small hint of smoke was rising, “Shit, I can get it! I got it!” and John was at the engine, a hand reaching in to find the cigar which he must have knocked from his dad’s mouth when he jerked away. 

“I got it.” John urged, not noticing his dad turning to head towards the bench, “Almost there…I got it….” the cigar burned his fingertips and he jerked before trying again and managing to get the nasty thing in between his fingers, “Ha! Got it! I got it!” and he was retracting his hand only to let out a rather shocking squeal when he felt the strap smash into the back of his thighs. 

He instantly fell to the ground, crawling back on his ass and slamming into the wall behind him, “How many times do I have to fucking tell you, mind the fucking cigar, Johnny!” 

John’s arms were over his head and his body was balled up tight as he waited but another blow didn’t come and he peeked out to see his dad was once again waiting by the front of the truck, “Come on!” his dad said, motioning to the engine and John slowly stood, wincing as the back of his thighs burned and stung like crazy. 

He let out a soft whine but grit his teeth and cursed softly as he picked up his pack of smokes and the cigar which was still sizzling. He handed it to his dad who took it and placed it back in his mouth, John lit a cigarette as he leaned over the engine and quickly swiped the tears from his eyes. 

“Stop, crying.” his dad snapped and John nodded, even though he wanted to scream at the man about how it was his fault that John as crying in the first place. 

He flinched when he felt his dad’s hand come to the back of his neck, his face turning to look at the man who said softly, “Pain is weakness leaving the body. It ain’t shit, and wallowing in it won’t fix the problem. Now, focus…okay?” 

John sniffed and wiped the tears away before he nodded, every inch of him wanting to deck the man before him while at the same time wanting to beg him to stop. He wanted to cuss him out, set fire to his truck, break everything in the house, tell him off, he wanted to smoke so much weed he couldn’t remember his own name….and he wanted more than anything for his dad to be normal and to actually love him. 

You’re goddamned pathetic….

The next hour pushed the pair into the early morning, John's anxiety calming as his dad stuck to that one beer and didn't have anymore. When he was sober, while he was hard and could still be unpredictable, he was less abusive as a whole and any punishment he felt he needed to enact was usually kept to a swat from the belt. 

He only got excessively violent or creative with his punishment tools when he was drunk. The last hour had been civil, not good by any means. His old man was a hard ass, short-tempered, and didn't give any leeway for horsing around. 

John always had to summon the max amount of his focus whenever his dad wanted him to help with the truck. If he lost focus for even a moment he'd either get smacked or belted. 

Considering how tired he was John surprised himself by how well he held his tongue and kept track of what his dad was saying. 

There had been many nights where John hadn't been able to keep his mouth shut, snapping back and practically begging the man to belt him with his attitude and sharp words. 

But tonight, John had been desperate to avoid a fight, because if his old man got him in the face, the chances of him getting out of the house and going to school were slim. 

While his dad felt corporal punishment was the answer to everything in regards to John, he was well aware a lot of parents were moving away from such things and if the cops were called it wouldn't be good for him. 

His dad walked a fine line of abuse where his wife and son were concerned and things only ever got unbearable when he drank heavily. 

John thought himself lucky that his old man wasn't such an alcoholic he needed to drink himself stupid every night. The truth was, his dad didn't drink that much at all, but when he did he really let loose. 

So, John had played nice tonight, being the obedient quiet son, because if his dad got him in the face he'd be stuck at home and called into school sick for the next few days. He would do anything to make sure he got his week with Claire, including rolling over and playing the fool for his dad's ego. 

But as John remained quiet and simply did whatever his dad told him to do, his dad's grumpy demeanor faded. Thus John's anxiety had calmed as they pressed through the early morning hours getting the tow truck up and running. 

By three a.m. John could barely keep his eyes open and he only jumped a little when his dad slung the hood of the truck down and slapped him on the back, "Good job." The man murmured as he crossed to the fridge near the back of the garage and pulled out another beer. 

He offered one to John who shook his head and held up a hand in disinterest, "Can I go to bed?" John asked, keeping his tone soft. 

His dad stared at him a moment, seeming to think on the question before he nodded, "S'pose so-" and his dad hesitated a moment, still studying him and John didn't dare move as he waited, "You…wanna come on the job with me tomorrow? Could use an extra set of hands." And his dad turned away as he asked the question, setting the already half-drank bottle on the workbench as he picked up the keys and headed around to the driver's side of the truck. 

"I…" John swallowed, his brain a little hazy from fatigue as he tried to decide what to say. He didn't want to go on the job with his old man. He wanted to go to school for the singular purpose of seeing Claire and his friends. But if he said no….he wasn't sure if there would be repercussions. 

"Well?" His dad asked as he sat in the driver's seat with the door open, looking at him with tired eyes. 

John cleared his throat, "I would…but I have a project due. And….uh….a math test." John was lying out of his nose but he met his dad's eye with a steady gaze, keeping his hands in the pockets of his coat as he waited. 

"Mm, gonna see your little girlfriend too I bet." His dad said and John reluctantly nodded, "Y-Yeah…that too." 

His dad took another swig of his beer before he looked at the steering wheel of the truck, "Fine. Keep your dick wrapped, got it? Don't ruin your life like I did. You get that bitch pregnant, don't come here looking for help. You'll be on your own." 

John felt his jaw clench and despite how tired he was, despite how well he had done keeping his mouth shut and his dad placated he scoffed and took a sharp drag off his cigarette, "Sorry to ruin all your big plans." 

His dad looked at him, a cruel smile coming to his mouth, "You keep up the attitude and see what happens. Now, I love your mama, and I love you. You don't see it now cause I'm whooping your ass daily 'cause of your fucking attitude problems, but it builds character and you'll thank me someday." 

John took in a deep breath through his nose, his cigarette burning down quickly before John tossed it away and blew out the smoke in a harsh manner, his anger had been building steadily all night, his fears and tears being pushed down and out of the way as his annoyance and rage gripped his chest and roared, "Sure I will. Right after the lobotomy and two Ambian are shoved up my ass." 

His dad sighed and stood from the truck, walking up to him and John found himself tired of cowering so he stood and met his father's now sharp eyes with a glare of his own, "You were doing so well, then that nasty mouth of yours opens…just can't keep quiet can you?" 

"Like father, like son." And John's dad whipped the palm of his hand across John's face so fast and so hard that John dropped, his head swimming as he felt an explosion of pain through his jaw, temple, and eye. 

He curled up on the ground with a hand plastered over his eye which felt like it had burst as he growled and grit his teeth, letting out a sharp moan as the pain continued to throb through the side of his face. 

"Why do you always make me do this shit? Huh? Aren't you tired of it yet?" And his dad had crouched down next to him, shoving at his shoulder a little, "Eh? Why you gotta be such a little ass hole?" His dad asked, "You got a roof over your head, food in your stomach…a fucking bed. You even got a mom and dad who're still together and love you. And you act like you're some great martyr like your life is so fucking hard." 

If you loved me you wouldn't do this, why are you doing this!? What the fuck did I do to make you hate me so much!? 

John just laid there waiting for his dad's dumb speech to be done but he wasn't so lucky, a hand coming into his hair and yanking him to sit up, "Look at me you little shit! I work my ass off so we can all have a life. Your disrespect is pissing me off and I'm getting sick of it." 

John flinched as his dad raised his other hand to smack him again, but he only held his hand flat and ready, "Apologize." John's eyes flicked between his old man's face and his raised hand, once again fighting with himself on what to do. 

But eventually, he grits his teeth and then swallowed as he whispered, "Sorry." 

"What!?" His dad asked harshly as he shook him and John barked put, "I'm sorry you're an ass hole!" 

He saw the hand move and John raised his arms and managed to block the palm that had turned into a fist. 

He yanked his head back, his dad still fisting his hair tightly but John got his feet between them and shoved. "Little shit-" his dad bit as he finally let go of John's scalp and the teen instantly stood, his father doing the same.

John went for the opening of the garage as his dad grabbed the strap and came after him. John heard the strap slam the back end of the truck, his dad yelling after him to come back. 

"No way in hell, you fucking psycho-" John breathed out as he hit the sidewalk and took off down the street. 

He ran as fast as he could for as long as he could, his lungs screaming at him to stop as his chest felt like it might burst. 

He had planned to head to his secret spot, but in his panic, he'd turned right instead of left and he sure as hell wasn't going to try and double back. 

Eventually, he slowed to a stop, his body shaking as his legs gave out and he fell to his knees, fists clenching grass as he desperately tried to catch his breath and calm his heart which was nearly beating out of his chest. 

"Fucking asshole!" He yelled to no one, his face still on fire and his head aching. He didn't know how bad he might look, but he did know that he couldn't go home. 

He wasn't going to try and double back which meant he could only go forward. He'd run for a long time, but now that he looked around he realized he was just outside the area where the high school was. 

He walked to school whenever he actually went and so realized he wasn't that far from Claire's. 

I can’t go to her place. It's two in the morning and you look like hell and showing up out of the blue will probably freak her the fuck out. You can't go to Claire's. 

He told himself sharply, yet as he finally stood and started to walk his feet carried him past the school, through three different neighborhoods, over Main street, and into an area called Oakland Terrace. 

He stayed out of the street lights, which he noted were bright and all worked and before he could stop himself he was standing in front of the garage doors and raising the lid to press in the numbers. 

Don't do this…it's breaking and entering….if someone sees you they'll call the cops….walk away…don't let her see you like this. 

His fingers pressed in the numbers he'd seen Claire use the first time he was here and waited, the garage door lifting, and John stepped inside quickly. 

He moved over to the far wall by the kitchen door and hit the button, shutting the garage door and then standing there in the dark silence of the garage. 

He didn't know what to do. He had made it all the way here against his better judgment and even entered the garage, but fuck him sideways if he had the balls to open that door and walk into the kitchen. 

He slowly sat down on the step, his back sliding against the door as he pulled out a smoke and lit it, the lighter giving him just enough light to spy Claire's mustang. 

I never called her….fuck!  God, why did I come here? What do I fucking do! I should have turned left! Why the fuck did I turn right!? Fucking stupid idiot. 

Even as he mentally berated himself, John felt his body relaxing, knowing that even if his dad did decide to cruise around and try to find him he'd never come to this side of town. He was safe from Miles Bender in this garage. 

His heart eventually slowed and though the garage wasn't warm it was better than sleeping under a bridge where he had no heat at all and a creaky door that let the night air in. 

He bundled his coat closer around him and closed his eyes as the red bud of his cigarette brightened with his next deep drag. 

Get a few hours sleep here, then take off before Claire wakes up. You can get to school early and clean up in the locker room. Maybe get in a hot shower and see if you can get something to eat from Allison. 

His head was aching now that he had time to focus on it and while the sting of his face had calmed he could feel the soreness from minor movements setting in. He didn’t know if there would be bruising, as it was rare for his face to bruise when his dad slapped him. Usually, it took a few good hits with a fist before any marks were left but the stinging behind his eye was more painful than normal. 

As his body sagged and the adrenaline and fear slid away John felt fatigued and the desire to sleep rushed him. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath, the guilt in his gut for coming here mellowing out as he nodded his head and tried to figure out how long he could sleep before he had to get out of here. 

However, fate was never kind to him. And no matter how hard he tried to make the right choices it never seemed to work in his favor. So, it didn’t really surprise him that as he was about to doze off the door to the kitchen suddenly opened and John fell back onto the floor, cigarette still sticking out of his mouth as he looked up at Claire who was holding a frying pan and looked ready to swing. 

“John!?” 

He smiled ruefully up at her because, of course, this would fucking happen when he wanted to leave before she was awake, “Hey good lookin’, what's cooking?” 

And as Claire let out the most relieved sigh the affectionate but obviously frustrated gaze she gave him meant he was most likely totally boned. 

Chapter Text

Claire sat silently on the couch, waiting for John to say something. Unfortunately for her, it seemed he had nothing to say. He simply sat with one hand dangling off his bent knee as he pressed an ice pack to the side of his face. His ordinarily sharp blue eyes were staring at the coffee table in a soft daze as his lips frowned numbly. 

She’d been all kinds of freaked out when she heard noises coming from the garage and had been on her way to the bathroom when she realized she was hungry. After using the toilet she’d gone down to the kitchen to find a midnight snack, only to hear the garage door open. 

Claire's father would have told her if he was going to be home earlier than planned. So she knew it wasn’t him. Despite her utter fear that someone had broken in, she didn’t call the cops because the second image that came to her mind behind some dark-masked intruder was none other than John Bender. That scared her even more because if John had risked coming back it meant something bad had happened. 

While Claire wasn’t sure John had memorized the entry code, she knew he’d been standing right there when she had entered it. Something in her gut knew it was John, but in retrospect, it was dumb to not call the cops. If it hadn’t been John or her dad, she could very well be kidnapped or dead right now. 

All these thoughts had passed quickly though because at the moment she was filled with questions and her stomach was churning with worry. 

When she had first realized it was him her instant thought was he’d changed his mind and wanted to stay the night. Maybe he had forgotten something important or decided he needed to clear the air after what they had done earlier in the evening. 

But Claire knew they had ended things on a good note, that both of them had parted ways happily. She’d stared down at him in confused surprise, the young man staring up at her with a regret-filled half smile, his cigarette wafting smoke into her house. 

Then, she’d seen his face. Claire had flicked on the light switch, illuminating the overhead in the back hall, and her breath caught in her throat. 

Dropping the frying pan she’d grabbed on the way just in case, and kneeling next to him she’d reached to press his hair away from the dark bruising and swelling near his eye and she knew instantly why he had come back. 

John had brushed her off so quickly, standing up and shrugging off her hands and words of worry. He’d ignored her when she asked about his face, walking into the kitchen with a rather aggressive gait, and heading straight for the bathroom. 

However, Claire had stopped him, and when she demanded he tell her what happened, John barked at her harshly, telling her to leave it alone and stop pestering him. 

His body language screamed agitation, and his hands were opening and closing swiftly, his shoulders hunching and head lowering as she heard him grunt softly. 

That’s when it had occurred to her that if she wanted answers, demanding or pushing wasn’t going to do it. So she bit her lip, took a deep breath through her nose, and told him to go to the bathroom and clean up. 

He’d stalked off with a scoff and upon his return, she was sitting on the couch with a cold pack, water, and some Tylenol. 

The waiting game had commenced and despite how tired, frazzled, and worried she was, Claire kept her mouth shut while John iced his face and dug in his heels. 

Twenty-some minutes had passed, each one painfully long and the silence incredibly tense. While Claire knew digging and pushing wouldn’t get her anywhere with a guy like John, she needed to know the situation. And if she was being completely honest with herself, she was just a little bit scared of the anger melting off of him. 

Finally, she decided to break the silence but did so carefully, managing her words like eggs in a basket and being very careful where she stepped, “Is he looking for you?” she asked softly, her eyes darting to the black screen of the television across the room. She made the assumption that it was John’s dad without directly asking and to her surprise he responded. 

“No.” came a very soft reply. Her gaze slowly shifted back to him and she swallowed, “You’re sure?” 

He flipped instantly, “No, okay? I’m not fuckin’ sure. But if he is, he sure as hell won’t come lookin’ for me on this side of town. Worst case, he drove by my buddy Jake’s. But he wasn’t drinkin’ much tonight so probably isn’t stupid enough to waste his time.” 

“Okay. So-” and she stopped a moment because she could still feel the emotions radiating off of him. He’s upset, pissed off, and exhausted. Maybe even a little bit ashamed. But she doesn’t let it detour her, “You’re safe here. No one knows where you are and if anyone were to ask I’ll just deny it. You can sleep in my brother’s old room, I have some clean clothes you can change into, and if you want to shower-” 

“Yeah, thanks.” it was short and snappy, his tone giving off a vibe of not caring at all. Claire wanted to be the bigger person here and brush off his dismissive and defensive behavior, but the truth was, it hurt her. She knew he was hurting and upset, angry, and most likely regretting coming here in the first place, but that didn’t mean he could be rude to her. 

“Look, if you don’t want to stay here, I will take you anywhere you want to go. But I won’t take you home or to the south side of town. I’ll even put you up in a hotel or take you to Andy’s or something if that is better. But you won't treat me like shit, just because you had a bad night.” 

John suddenly stood, throwing the ice pack down on the table, “A bad night!? This wasn’t just a bad night, Claire . My dad decided to play wack-a-mole with my face. ” 

Claire stood too, crossing her arms, “I get it, okay? I’m not as dumb or naive as you think I am! I know what you’re going through…but all I want to do is help-” 

“You don’t know shit about what I’m going through. And don’t ever think a pampered brat like you could ever-” 

She cut him off because she knew exactly where this was going and she would be damned if he was going to show up at her house at 4 in the morning covered in blood and bruises and act like she was in the wrong. 

“Don’t yell at me! All I want to do is help, but I can’t do that if you treat me like garbage and won’t tell me what you need!” 

“Yeah!? Well, what I need is for you to stop acting like I’m some scared little child! I didn’t come here for your pity and I don’t want your help!” he screamed at her as he picked up the ice bag and chucked it at the wall. 

Claire didn’t jump at the sudden display but she did walk right up to him and say loudly, “I’m not the one who hurt you! Go take your anger out on him! I won’t be your punching bag because you couldn’t punch him back!” 

She stood there glaring at him, her teeth clenched tightly as she panted from yelling such a long sentence. 

John just stared at her, eyes wide as his hands dropped to his sides and he studied her face. It was as if a lightbulb went off in his head and John suddenly sat down with a reticent plop on the couch, hands coming to his face as he leaned forward and let out a miserable moan. His entire being seemed to deflate, the anger slinking away like a dog that was just kicked, his head shaking back and forth in some semblance of denial. 

What just happened? She stood there a moment, unsure what to do. 

“Jesus Christ-” John whispered and Claire studied his slumped posture before he held out a hand to her, his face still looking at his knees. 

Claire hesitated but eventually took his hand and he pulled her to him, her legs coming to rest between his knees as the top of his head came to rest on her lower stomach. The silence stretched before a muffled, “Sorry…I’m…f-fucking sorry…so sorry-” made its way up to her. 

Claire relaxed and brought her hands up to stroke through his hair, “I know I don’t understand what you’re going through. I’ve never experienced what you have to deal with daily at home. What I meant when I said that I understand is…I know your dad hurts you. I know…you didn’t have anywhere else to go and coming here was probably the last thing you wanted. I know you don’t want to talk about it or tell people, but I don’t want you to think I…I don’t care. I do care. It’s not pity, it’s concern.” 

“I…know.” came a muffled voice and Claire rolled her eyes, “Look at me,” she says softly. John gave a single soft shake of his head, and Claire debated for only a moment before she moved to her knees and pressed her hands very carefully to his face, raising his head and meeting his tired eyes. 

They were glossy, but he wasn’t crying. She could tell how much he wanted to, but be it pride or just being too tired he was refusing to let the tears come. 

The left side of his face from his brow down to his jaw was slightly swollen and there was a dark bruise growing under his eye. There was a very small split where most of the blood had come from in his lip and his nose was still red though the light bleeding had stopped and he’d cleaned it away in the bathroom. 

“John….what do you want to do? Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.” she offered and John suddenly leaned the good side of his face into the palm of her hand as he said, “I just want to sleep. No more 20 questions….just…stop asking me. I can’t….it’s hard to talk about…okay? It makes me feel sick…makes my stomach hurt-” 

Claire studied him a moment longer before she nodded, “Okay. Come on.” He had already downed the water and taken the pain meds she’d brought for him so she took his hand and led John upstairs. 

“Shower?” she asked softly to which John mumbled, “No…just sleep…please.” Claire nodded. 

She opened the door to her brother’s old room and motioned in, “With you.” he said suddenly though his voice remained soft. 

Claire’s arms folded across her chest, her back leaning against the doorframe as she asked, “What about all that stuff you said about how you can’t trust yourself to sleep with me.” she popped up a quizzical eyebrow as she waited. 

Every time John had come over he made it clear he couldn’t stay because he’d be too tempted to try and sleep with her. He had been adamant that his gentlemanly behavior only went so far before he became just another mindless, hormonal, teenage boy who wanted to get lucky. By leaving, he was trying to respect her and not put her in a position where she would feel pressured.  

John moved closer, looking down at her through his messy hair, no longer its soft feathered self, as he sighed with frustration, “Sweets, my head is killing me, my face feels like it’s shattered into a million pieces and I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a week. Don’t take this the wrong way, but the last thing I want right now is sex…I just want to lie down with you next to me and smell that girly perfume of yours and not think about anything for the next month. So, please…can we just-” 

Claire cut him off with a very soft and light kiss, “Alright. Come on.” 

She once again took his hand, and the pair entered her room. Claire shut and locked her bedroom door. While her father wasn’t due back until the late afternoon, on the off chance plans changed, and for some strange reason he didn’t call her Claire didn’t want him walking in on her and John cuddled up in bed together. 

Claire removed the silk robe she was wearing to reveal her tank top and sleep shorts. John glanced at her but his eyes didn’t linger, a good sign he was being honest. She watched as John actually shucked off all of his clothes except for his boxers and plopped down into the bed, pulling the blankets over himself before motioning for her to get in. 

She lay down in the dark, the only light from the neighborhood's street lamp which was rather dim through the curtains. John pulled the covers up over her and Claire gave the softest gasp when he pulled her against him. 

He nearly wrapped himself around her, nestling his face carefully into the back of her neck and inhaling deep and slow. 

“Thanks, Claire. I owe you,” he whispered out into the dark. 

“Any time,” she whispered back and Claire felt his arms and legs go slack after only a few minutes. She lay there with John behind her, his body so damn warm, his smell swirling close to her nose and his soft breaths coating the back of her neck. 

Despite herself, she felt her body grow warm, felt her stomach twist with excitement, and her mind honed in on his flaccid dick which was pressed snuggly against her backside. She was both aroused and oddly at ease. 

She was wide awake as she thought about the events of the early morning, both John showing up and their fight and how they were lying together in the dark. It was so very comforting to have someone here with her in bed. The house suddenly seemed less lonesome and her heart fluttered. 

At the same time, a soft roll of dread came to her stomach as her mind also tried to imagine what John must have gone through tonight. How far he must have run to get from his house to hers. The fact that private, stone-cold, never-in-the-mood-to-share John Bender had chosen to trust her and come back to her house to seek refuge was insane. 

She shouldn’t feel special, but she did. This was not one of those moments that should make a person feel like they were important or cared for, but with a guy like John….if he trusted you enough to come to you when he needed help….that had to mean something, right? 

The clock on her bedside table glowed with a red number five and she realized they would have to be up for school in the next hour and a half. But John was utterly exhausted and Claire was no better. So, instead of trying to sleep, she came up with a plan. 

Page Break 

John woke up slowly, his face feeling stiff and sore. However, when the scent of cherries and vanilla pressed into his nose during a deep inhale of breath he remembered where he was at. The feeling of a small body tucked in next to him forced his eyes open and he was greeted by the sleeping face of Claire Standish. The room was full of warm light, and the morning was silent. 

He heard the very faint sound of the furnace kicking on and heard the sound of a car passing by outside of Claire’s window but otherwise, there was no noise. No shouting or yelling, no one slamming doors or coffee mugs, no loud angry engine starting just outside as it limped away down the road to tow some poor bastard out of a ditch. 

He was relaxed, sleepy, and unafraid. He cuddled closer to the petite body, the warmth between them was heaven and he pulled the blanket up higher as his hands slowly started to slide over smooth skin. 

God, I could get used to this. Fucking heaven, holy fuck. 

While he wasn’t thinking about sex he did have a stiffy, morning wood as most people called it, not something he could avoid. But he pressed it more firmly against her bottom and sighed as he kissed her shoulder. 

“Feeling better?” came the soft and sleepy question from his companion and John nodded, “Oh yeah. Waking up next to you would make any guy feel better.” 

He kissed her neck, a hand skimming up her stomach over her tank top to gently squeeze a breast. He wasn’t trying to start anything, and he knew despite everything now wasn’t a good time for sex, but fuck it all if he wouldn’t mind sliding in for an early morning lay. 

His eyes glanced at the clock and noticed it read 1:53 pm. John’s breath caught in his throat, “Uh, Sweets?” 

“Mm?” she asked in a rather dreamy way. No doubt his roaming hands felt nice enough, she seemed to be enjoying his attention, “Don’t freak, but you’re way late for school.” 

Claire let out a breathy laugh, “No. I called us in. You’re taking the day off.” 

“You…huh? How did you manage that?” John asked in shock. 

“I called my dad this morning and told him I forgot to take my pill so I have really bad cramps and asked if he’d call me in. I told him if I felt better this afternoon I’d try to catch the second half of school. He called me in round 7.” 

“What about me?” John asked. 

Claire hesitated but John shifted so he could press her onto her back, “Hey, Cherry, what about me?” he asked again, a brow raising and she bit her bottom lip before she swallowed, “Don’t be mad.” 

“Depends on what you did.” He countered. 

“I…called the school and pretended to be your mom. I…think they bought it.” 

John just stared at her a minute, before he burst into a fit of soft laughter and pressed his forehead to her own, “You’re batshit crazy. What’d you tell them? Sweet little Johnny had the flu?” 

“I…well…I told them a half-truth. That your dad needed help at work….it’s Benders Towing, right? I never put two and two together but I’ve seen the ads in the paper and after you told me what he did…he owns Bender's Towing right?” 

“Fuck me, yeah. So, what did you say?” John breathed as he stared at her, “Hello, this is Mrs. Bender. Johnny’s mother? My husband’s extra employee called in sick today and Johnny offered to help him. He won’t be in today but expect him back tomorrow. Thank you.” 

John just stared at her, Claire wincing as she shared her motherly voice and bit her bottom lip, “Not mad?” 

John scoffed with a half-shocked but impressed smile, “You….are so bad.” he whispered with a massive amount of awe and adoration. 

Claire instantly relaxed and let out a weak laugh, “Thank God, I thought you might get pissed but-” 

“No,” John whispered before he rolled on top of her and started kissing her neck, his hands raising her tank and gently trying to get it up over her head. 

“John…stop-” she laughed happily but he shook his head, “Oh no, the princess is getting a reward for being so damn clever. A big reward…that ends with you moaning my name.” and John started dragging his mouth down towards her stomach and Claire gasped when she felt hands gently press her thighs apart. 

His hands were pulling off her shorts and panties and before she could get a grasp on the situation John Bender’s mouth latched onto her womanhood Claire’s back arched and her mouth opened in a silent ‘O’. 

Page Break 

John felt her cum swiftly, it didn’t take much for her. He always expected to have to put in more work and effort, one chick he’d been with had taken nearly an hour to get off with his mouth. It seemed his beautiful Cherry was sensitive enough that five minutes, a few swirls of his tongue, and a single finger were enough to launch her into oblivion. 

She moaned his name so sweetly, and her hands pressed his face firmly against her as her hips bucked lightly. 

He’d gone from zero to sixty with her, but he had wanted to show her how much he appreciated her, how much he loved her cunning and sneaky side. He’d slept late today and woke up feeling refreshed if not sore. In all honesty, going down on her hurt just a little because her thighs squeezed his face which was still bruised. And he was pretty sure his lip cracked open again, but it was worth it to hear her moan his name and feel her body shake. 

He hoped he hadn’t gone too far but tasting her for the first time, and feeling her pop off was near heavenly. And it was the only thing at the immediate moment he could think of to show how grateful he was for everything she had done. 

Taking this risk was no different than the risk Claire had taken on getting them out of school today. So, he risked it. 

He gave her womanhood one last long slow lick before he came to lay on top of her, the redhead panting with eyes closed and face flushed. “Oh god.” she moaned softly and John kissed her forehead and then her neck, “Did I go too far?” he asked. 

“No….god no…mmm.” she still hadn’t looked at him but the small peaceful smile on her face and the wash of red on her cheeks spoke volumes. He didn’t try anything else aside from pressing his hard dick against her front, moving his hips just a little because he wanted to imagine what it would feel like to be on top of her and inside of her and rocking against her. 

“Shower?” she asked as her arms wrapped around his neck. John nodded as he kissed her softly, “What time is daddy dearest coming home?” 

“There was a rain delay so he said around five instead of two. He’ll call right before he gets on the plane. We have time.” 

“Good. What are the chances you’ll get in the shower with me if I promise to keep my hands to myself?” 

Claire finally opened her eyes and met his steady gaze, “Mmm, good.” 

“Yeah?” he asked with a smile of disbelief. 

“Yeah,” she agreed with a nod of her head. 

“Well fuck me, let’s do this thing.” John stood from the bed and quickly slid his arms under, lifting her swiftly before walking to the bathroom. 

Claire giggled and protested about how she could walk on her own but John just kicked the bathroom door shut behind them with an amused scoff. 

Page Break 

Claire could not believe what was happening. Not one bit. She tried to digest how she was feeling about what happened just now in her bed and what was happening that very moment. 

She wasn’t upset that John had so suddenly gone down on her, she had enjoyed it. Claire was starting to feel much more comfortable around him regarding her sexuality the more time they spent together. And honestly, after waking up with him cuddling her and kissing her she had wanted him to do something. 

Claire was just glad she hadn’t had to ask for it directly. She still wasn’t quite comfortable asking for things that revolved around sex. But when John had pressed his head between her thighs it had felt so good she had been able to let go and enjoy it. 

So when he’d asked about showering together she’d been very comfortable with the idea. After all, John had now seen both her top and bottom half. There wasn’t much to be modest about, and his promise to keep his hands to himself had been genuine so she trusted him. 

She’d stripped off her clothes and turned to see him standing there in all his naked glory. She was a little taken aback. She’d seen his penis before, and she had touched his stomach and chest, but she had never really noticed all the marks. 

The fact that the scars on his body attracted her eyes more than his privates spoke volumes of her concern. But Claire was the queen of passing stuff off as no big deal. 

So instead of lingering on his scars, which she knew would probably set him off, she schooled her face into one of passive curiosity as she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself out of habit. 

“Got a problem?” he asked, his eyes finally meeting her face as he had been busy scanning her nude body up and down. 

“No problem,” she said in an easy and neutral tone. 

“Curious?” he asked and Claire knew he meant about the marks on him. 

“So what if I am? Not my business.” she mused quickly, turning to reach into the shower and turn on the water. She adjusted the temperature and waited to feel the water heat up before she turned back to him. 

John’s face was somewhere between pensive and unreadable, and if that sounded confusing Claire was more so. It was like he was studying her to try and find some semblance of distaste, and when he found none he didn’t know how to react. 

“I know your situation, and I can only assume it’s been going on a while. If you want to tell me about it you can. If you don’t, that’s fine too,” Claire said casually, not allowing how awkward she felt at this moment to show at all, glancing over her nails in a rather relaxed manner before glancing back up at him. 

It was just like at school when one of her girlfriends told her who they’d chosen to sleep with, and while the male teen in question was unattractive to Claire, she played it off and remained calm. Not showing her distaste or concern on the matter usually prompted the person to continue sharing. She learned more secrets this way, and found, a neutral response was usually the best way to get more information. 

People liked to justify their choices, or they liked to give excuses as to why, if you didn’t feed their naturally hungry nature to explain, they’d feel the need to clarify. 

“Most of them are from the old man, but not all of them. If you want to be cool with me, you gotta be cool with that and let it go,” John said, his eyes suddenly not meeting her gaze as he crossed his arms and continued to stand before her naked as if standing here having this conversation with his bits and pieces showing wasn’t weird. 

“Okay….cool.” Claire confirmed and John gave her a side eye, “Yeah?” 

She nodded and smiled, “Yeah. It’s cool.” 

John finally looked at her and smirked back, “Okay, cool.” 

He crossed to her, thumb and finger pinching the front of her towel before he slowly pulled at it and the thing came un-tucked and fell to the floor. 

John’s length had been half hard the entire conversation but as he gave a kiss to her lips and pressed against her she felt how he’d stiffened up again. 

She smiled at her obvious effect on him and then turned and stepped into the shower, John’s fingers lightly tracing across her back and stomach as she moved away from him. He joined her shortly after and no more was said about the marks on his body. 

It wasn’t like he was coated in a skin of scars. They were there, but they were widespread. It was almost as if he was consistently abused but only some of the blows left marks. One on his chest, one on his stomach, the front of his thigh, a shin, some on his upper and lower arms but she hadn’t seen his back yet so she wasn’t sure if maybe that area was worse. His face was clear of scars but the bruising had gotten worse overnight. 

She kept her mouth shut because she knew where they all came from, and John had made it clear that while he would acknowledge he had them and where they came from, he wasn’t going to give her specifics or explain what each one was for. That was good enough for Claire. The fact he had acknowledged she knew and that he was okay with it was a huge step in her opinion. 

While John had been somewhat open about his shitty home life in detention, he hadn’t gone into detail and anytime someone showed him sympathy or tried to understand he bit back like a bear in a corner. Claire knew at this point it would always be up to John what he explained or shared and what he kept to himself and she would just have to be okay with that. 

As they showered, each lathering up with body wash and taking turns scrubbing the other down Claire cleared her mind of the obvious abuse and just enjoyed the moment. John was indeed keeping his hands and his clear stiffy to himself, except for when she handed him the loofa to run it down her back. 

He took the initiative to run it over her shoulders, back, butt, and the back of her legs, tracing fingers as he went and Claire felt her body react. 

Experiencing these moments of her body's responses to John’s touch seemed to be making her more and more comfortable with the prospect of intimacy. The idea of going further with him was much less terrifying the more time she spent with him and allowed John access to her body. 

That’s when she realized that trust was forming. She felt it. She was starting to trust him. It was almost a foreign feeling because, in her whole life, there had been few she could trust. Allison had quickly climbed to the top of the list of trust because she’d proven to Claire she was real and a good person. 

To a degree, she did trust Andy and Brian too. Both to keep her secrets and to give her honest advice, even if she didn’t want to hear it. 

But being this exposed, physically and emotionally, to John had formed a different kind of trust. The kind of trust that made her feel like she could not only tell him anything but that they together, could do anything. If they could maintain their honesty and their respect for each other, it felt like they could have some semblance of a future where happiness wasn’t a trip to Paris and buying the most expensive thing on the shelf. 

She turned then, letting the water wash away the bubbly mess of lather on her back and she slowly took the loofa from him, “Turn around.” she said softly and John’s gaze suddenly intensified, the tone of her voice setting something off in him. 

He very slowly handed her the scrubber, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly, “What are you gonna do, Sweets?” 

“Trust me…and turn around.” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and John let out the softest little, “Mm. Kay.” 

He turned and Claire slowly began to scrub his shoulders and back, using her fingers and nails to gently drag and scape over mostly smooth skin. She saw more marks, slightly more dense in their placement and Claire had an image in her mind of John curled up and exposing his back to the assaults more often. Choosing not to expose his front and taking the brunt of the abuse to an area easily hidden and much more sturdy. 

Still, the marks were not as condensed as she expected and just like his front, while there were definitely more, these too were spread out and indicated each mark was from a separate attack. 

She worked her way down slowly, kissing as she went before she soaped the area, and soon enough she was on her knees, freezing for only a moment when she came to a massive purple bruise that went across the back of both of his thighs. 

It was hard not to gasp or to cover her mouth, choosing to bite her bottom lip and keep going, being much more gentle as she moved over the bruised flesh and not making a single comment. 

Something inside of her swelled and more than anything she wanted to make him feel better and feel good. She wanted to give him safety, someone to trust, and, despite herself, a certain pleasure that might make him forget for a moment all the pain. 

So, when she made it to his ankles she reached up, discarding the loofa and gripping his hips, “Turn around.” she repeated and this time when John turned he looked down to see her on her knees, the water from the shower head hitting her upper back as she ran hands up his thighs and he shivered and tried to stifle a grunt. 

His hand raised, palm coming to glide over wet hair and gently cupping the back of her head. But he didn’t prompt her at all, simply held his hand to the back of her head, intoxicated eyes staring down at her as his breathing seemed to increase, “Fuck, Cherry.” he whispered and Claire leaned in and kissed a thigh, before sliding up to a hip bone, then over to his lower stomach. 

John hissed and moaned softly, head falling back and Claire licked her lips before she trailed down to his length and began to kiss and lick along it slowly. 

The night prior she’d given him a hand job, but considering what he’d done for her this morning, she was going to stow the ‘ew’ factor away and try her damndest to make him feel good. 

It took her a bit to get up the courage, but after kissing and licking and rubbing at his length with her lips Claire took him into her mouth and began to suck. She tried to be consistent, she tried to watch her teeth. She tried to make it so all he could think about was what she was doing and not the fact that his body was covered in scars, his face was busted up, and the back of his legs looked like someone had belted him fifty-thousand times. 

She wanted him to feel good, not bad, and so despite this not being her favorite thing to do, she did it for him and focused on pleasing him and making him feel like he was the most beautiful and important person in the world. 

To her surprise, it didn’t take long. She thought it would, but perhaps her teasing had been enough to work him up for a quick finish. She felt his hands come to the back of her head, heard him whisper her name so breathlessly and when his hips started to thrust into her mouth Claire firmed up her resolve and waited for him to finish. 

He did swiftly. 

The hot liquid that spurted into her mouth didn’t seem to taste as gross as it did the night before and the feeling of his length pulsing against her lips seemed to arouse her a little. The sound of his moans and hissed-out affirmations filled her with pride and while John had shot off quicker than she expected his orgasm seemed to last forever. 

In reality, it was probably only 10 seconds or less, but his length kept pulsing and she kept feeling spurts of that hot liquid and John kept thrusting gently into her mouth. 

When he finally finished he looked down at her, his length still in her mouth as he whispered out a soft, “Swallow, baby.” 

Once again she complied, even though she was in the shower with the water running and she could have spit it out. 

She hadn’t gagged at all and his cum didn’t seem to taste as funky now, it was a taste she recognized, and the adoring gaze of his eyes made her realize that it would make him happy. 

Claire swallowed but John still didn’t pull his dick away from her mouth and she sat there on the floor of the shower looking up at him, a brow raising as he licked his lips and pressed his length into her mouth again, the thing now softer but he seemed transfixed on this moment. 

“Fuck me, if you aren’t the hottest woman I’ve ever seen….if you aren’t the most…mhm….damn, Claire. You’re fucking-.” he trailed off, unable to find the words he needed to share his satisfaction with her. 

Claire smiled and realized how dumb she must look at the moment trying to smile with John's dick in her mouth and so took it upon herself to let his length go as she stood up, John bringing a hand to her upper arm to gently propel her along. 

Their eyes met and she raised delicate fingers to press wet hair away from his face, "You wanna hang out today?" She asked softly. 

John scoffed, "You think you can just blow me like that and kick me out the door?" 

Claire stifled a laugh and wrapped her arms around his neck, "So you feel better?" 

"Better than I have in a long time, Sweets." 

"Hungry?" She asked. 

"Famished." 

Page Break 

Andy waited patiently as the phone rang, his arm on the counter of the office as he glanced confident eyes at the receptionist who smiled kindly at him before going back to typing on the computer. Her shiny red nails reflected the light from above as she hummed softly to herself. 

After three more rings there was an answer and Andy, knowing he needed to be smooth, said softly, “Hey mom, it’s Andy…sorry to call you at work but…uh…my friend Claire is sick today…and I was gonna get her homework from class and run it by her house today after school…just wanted to let you know I’ll be home late-” 

“Jesus Andy, are you calling me from the office?” came Claire’s voice, equally soft and Andy nodded as he said, “Yeah. She’s fine…just thought it’d be a nice thing to do…and you know…make sure she’s okay. Her dad’s out of town so if she wants I can grab her something from Dad’s store…a magazine or…uh…soup? I also may swing by my buddy John’s for a few…I think he’s sick too…it must be going around,” Andy’s eyes flicked to the secretary who was minding her own business though he wouldn’t put it passed the woman to Evesdrop. 

“I’m okay. I had my dad call me in this morning under the guise of cramps, John’s okay too. I called him in pretending to be his mom. But…he showed up at my house at four in the morning…his face was thrashed and he was exhausted. My dad will be home around five…if you guys want to come over after school you can. Dad should be cool with it. If you could bring any homework I'd appreciate it. I lied to my dad about being sick so I could take care of John…but I told him I’d go second half…so…having my homework would-” 

Andy’s face soured as his mind filled in the rest, complete the lie. Jesus Claire, he’s got you lying for him? 

Reluctantly he agreed, “Yeah. No worries. I’ll take care of it. Need anything else… Mom ?” Andy turned his back to the secretary as he pressed the phone closer and whispered, “Legit, you okay? John okay?” 

“We’re fine. Just…if you come over tonight make sure Brian and Allison know NOT to mention the bruising on John’s face….it’s not there…it’s invisible…alright?” 

He understood her meaning and would let them know not to mention a thing, “Yeah. Alright. I got to go, love you mom, I’ll call from John’s place if I am going to be late for dinner.” 

“Thanks, Andy.” 

“Yup. Bye.” 

Andy turned back around and hung up, thanking Mrs. Rosenbaum for letting him make a phone call before he headed back to the cafeteria and found Brian and Allison. 

He sat down and tried to finish his lunch before the bell rang, his mood sour.

He chewed angrily at his sandwich for a moment before throwing it down and swallowing, an annoyed, “Son of a bitch!” leaving his mouth as his hands smacked the table. 

“So…it didn’t go well?” Brian asked, his face filled with consternation as he had expected Andy to start talking as soon as he came back.

“I take it you found them?” Allison asked as she leaned in and took a rather large and loud bite of a bright red apple. 

Andy nodded, “Yeah, I guess Bender showed up at her house early this morning looking pretty bad. She got them both off the hook for school but…I mean…she's lying for him now. First, this bullshit dating-to-get-back-at-Claire’s-parents-crap which is just an excuse so they can date, then showing up to her place all fucked up at four in the morning, now she's lying for him." He waited expectantly for their outrage but when the pair gave him a confused owlish expression he leaned closer, "Don't tell me you two are cool with how all of this is going down?" 

Brian shook his head no while Allison nodded yes. Brian looked at her in shock and Allison's dark eyes darted between the two, "You're joking." Brian asked. 

"I'd lie for Andy….if he asked me." She added the last bit casually as she reached to take the orange from Andy's pile of food and started to peel it. 

"Really?" Andy and Brian asked at the same time and Allison nodded, "Uh-huh, it's what you do when you care…sometimes. I think. Besides, why are you so worried about their personal lives Sporto…you like Claire?" Allison asked, a brow raising as her eyes narrowed and Andy scoffed, "You know that's bullshit. I just don't want him pulling her down to his level. Skipping school, lying…" 

"Being a burnout?" Allison questioned and Brian looked at his cup of soup, fingers twirling a spoon as he said in an absent-minded voice, “You know he has a point.” Allison turned sharply to look at him but Brian locked eyes with Andy, “I mean…I know we are all still getting to know each other and stuff…but…it does seem a little out of character…I mean…I think.” and Brian finally looked at Allison whose expression and eyes were so very poignant as she gave a rather disbelieving smile, “Really? It’s out of character for the girl who skipped school to go on a shopping spree to lie so she can skip more school?” 

Andy shook his head and grabbed his sandwich, picking it up and saying tartly, “It's out of character to do it for someone else. Claire putting her neck on the line for someone else isn’t a thing. Okay? She’s our friend and all but…well…given her old group of friends do you think she’s do that for just anybody?” 

Allison’s eyes darted to the popular girl's table, the group gossiping and chittering like monkeys as they existed in their perfect little world. 

“All I’m saying is this whole thing between them started as some dumb little bullshit excuse and is exploding into John throwing all his baggage at her and her messing up her own life to help.” 

“It’s one time!” Allison countered and Andy looked at her with worried eyes, “My dad’s CPA said the same thing about coke, no he’s a homeless junky on the corner and gives handjobs for drug money.” 

Brian’s brow screwed up, “What corner?” Andy and Allison looked at him with wide eyes for a long moment and Brian looked back in confusion before he said, “I was just curious, I might have seen the guy the other day on my way to the arcade!” 

Andy swallowed a bite of his sandwich before he shook his head, “Look, all I am saying is I’m worried. I mean…those two are going to get themselves into a lot of trouble if they aren’t careful and I don’t mean with principle Vernon. Do you think we are the only ones that noticed John and Claire aren’t here?  People know some shit is going on between them at school cause that was the plan, but now they both don’t show up to class? Rumors are gonna start flying.” 

“John won’t care-” Allison started but Andy cut in, “Yeah, well, Claire will. Neither of them thought this through. I’m all for breaking away from the herd but they aren’t being subtle about it. And you already said it's harder on girls than it is guys…you think Claire’s ready for the shit storm that’s about to come?” 

Allison considered that and Brian looked between the two before offering, "Claire's not dumb….I'm sure she realized what might happen if-" 

But Brian didn't get to finish because a presence came to stand beside them and Brian's eyes went wide as his mouth fell open. 

"Hey Andy, do you know where Claire is?" It was Becca, in all her powder pink and blonde-haired glory. 

The smell of rich girl perfume hit their nostrils, as Andy gave a slow chew, his eyes also wide as he seemed to have a momentary brain freeze. Allison kicked him under the table and glared at him. Swallowing quickly and clearing his throat behind a tight fist Andy managed out a confidant, "Oh, yeah… she had cramps…her dad called her in. Don't worry, I'm dropping off her homework after school." 

"Ah, that explains it." She said suspiciously, "I was worried ''cause…ya know….Bender wasn't in class either and since they are seeing each other….I was worried maybe they had-" 

"John's with his Dad-" Allison bit out suddenly and Becca’s face snapped to her, eyes sharp as she studied Allison's face for any sign of lying. But Allison was an incredible liar, “His dad owns a Towing business and when he's short-staffed John helps him. That's why he won't show up for days at a time…he's usually at work with his dad.” 

Becca's eyes narrowed hard, studying Allison's face which was stone cold and emotionless, her dark eyes sharp as she stood her ground. 

“I can give you his card.” Brian suddenly said and Becca looked at him with a raise of her brow, “He'll give you 50% off for a blow job.” 

Andy's mouth dropped and Allison burst out laughing as Becca let out a rather shocked huff, “Fuckin’ gross, great friends you have Andy.” She then turned and left, hard swinging hips revealing her frustration. 

Andy started laughing before tussling Brian's hair, “That was awesome, dude.” And Brian blushed and looked down, clearly pleased with himself but trying to remain humble. 

“Okay. We saved their asses for now, but we need to be careful. I don't want to spend the rest of this week lying through my teeth for those two. So, when we get out of school we all go over to Claire's and make sure they know the story and that we aren't going to keep covering for them.” 

Allison and Brian gave a reluctant nod each and the three finished lunch as the bell rang. 

Page Break 

Claire and John sat on the couch watching TV, food galore spread out before them on the coffee table. They had pizza, chips, a box of Little Debbie snack cakes, popcorn, cheese nips, and two boxes of different cereal with a gallon of milk and two bowls set to the side. 

As they commented irreverently on the show they were watching, John grabbed a bowl and filled it with Chocolate puff cereal, before pouring milk all over it. 

He leaned back and began to munch happily as Claire pointed at the TV, “See! Look at that! That's not possible! You can't use gum and a paperclip to fix a car engine!” 

John looked at her, “Says who?” 

“Says anyone! MacGyver is so stupid.” 

“Bullshit, it's one of the best damn shows on the tube. And Richard Dean Anderson is the shit!” He countered only to have Claire give him such an unimpressed look John could only wink at her before he continued to spoon cereal into his mouth. 

The sound of the doorbell going off made them both freeze, though Claire knew it was most likely the club she was still hesitant to answer. 

John sat up, set his cereal aside, and went to answer but Claire put a hand on his thigh, “No, I got it-” and she stood quickly, heading to the door before John could protest. She knew it was the club, but even so, the idea of him being in view of the outside made her anxious. 

In the back of her mind, the worst-case scenarios kept popping up, like somehow John’s dad was able to track him here, or Principle Vernon knew they were lying, or Becca had decided to swing by or a neighbor had come to check on her. She didn’t want anyone to know John was here, mainly for his safety. 

She glanced out the side window and the club, waiting patiently with Andy’s truck in the driveway. She breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door. “Hey,” she said softly, greeting them and pulling the door back so they could come in. 

The three trickled passed her, Andy looking annoyed, while Allison and Brian seemed to give off the demeanor of just being along for the ride. 

“How was school?” she asked Allison. The dark girl was about to answer only to be cut off by Andy, “It was shit,” he said softly, his hand coming out to slice through the girl’s would-be conversation. 

“Becca was looking for you, Vernon asked me about it after lunch, the kids are running the rumor mill double time and Brant tried to corner Brian with his two dumb ass side kicks and make him talk.” 

Claire’s face went a little pale and her eyes bulged, “What the hell? About what?” 

“What do you think? About you! And about Bender!” his voice rose a little more and Claire gave an indignant glare, “So?” 

“So? So!? Jesus, you know what, I’m starting to think Bender was right about you. The whole school freaked out when you didn’t show up. And we had to lie for you two all fucking day.” 

“What? Lie? Why would you have to” 

“You weren’t the only one missing, Claire!” Andy suddenly yelled, and Claire jumped a little at the sudden shout, “Bender was missing too! Didn’t think about that when you called yourselves in, did you? The whole school knows you and Bender are fucking around together and the next thing they know you two don’t show up at school? You’ve really fucked yourself-” 

“Hey Sporto! You got a problem, you fucking talk to me!” Everyone turned to see Bender standing in the doorway to the living room, arms crossed and eyes dark. Andy looked him up and down, seeing his face, noticing the clothes he was wearing were not his. Seeing Bender in a white button-down and black slacks was weird but it didn’t stop him. 

“Yeah, alright. Here it is, you and Claire need to get your shit together. If Claire doesn’t want her spot with the A-listers taken away then she needs to be smarter-” 

“Yeah?” John spouted condescendingly. 

“Yeah, and you, don’t drag her into your shit-” 

John stepped closer, “What shit is that, Sporto?”  

“Whatever fucked up shit excuse you two need to make up to be together, and the shit with your family!” 

John’s fists clenched, “You don’t know shit about my family, douche bag-” 

“You’re right, I fucking don’t, but don’t expect me, Brian, or Allison, to lie for you or cover your tracks because you two wanna run around like idiots without thinking things through-” 

“That how you feel?” John asked, his voice rising every time Andy’s did. Claire moved to step in between them but Allison had grabbed her arm and held her in place, Brian moving subtly to stand in front of the two girls. 

“You bet it is. Brian nearly got his face busted in today by Brant and his goons!” Andy yelled. 

“Yeah!?” John yelled back with a questioning tone. 

“Yeah, and Vernon is on the prowl for you two now 'cause he knows damn well you were playing hooky together!” 

“Tough shit!” Bender shot back. 

The pair were nose to nose, faces red and fists clenched but neither seemed interested in actually taking a swing. 

“Becca is probably telling all the girls at school you two took off to bang in some back alley. You’ve got to be smarter than this or-” 

“Or what, Dad ?” John barked sarcastically, Andy’s resolve hardened then, his jaw tightening as he stared the taller boy down before yelling, “Or you’re both going to get reamed!” 

“Well I appreciate the heads up and thanks for caring, Jockstrap!” John screamed back. 

“You’re fucking welcome you stupid burnout!” 

“Oh yeah? I owe you big time!” 

‘I got your back but you’re being fucking dumb you stupid burn-out dipshit!” 

“I’m working on it! I ain’t never had friends before! Fuck off!” 

“Fine, then work on it!” Andy yelled back. 

“I will! You want cereal jack-ass!?” John’s tone was nearly irrate. 

“Yes, I want fucking cereal! Fuck you!” Andy said as he shoved past John and headed into the living room, John followed close behind, anger fuming. 

The three remaining teenagers stared after them, Brian was the first to speak and asked breathlessly, “What the hell just happened?” 

The girls looked at each other before their faces of concern morphed into ones of amused humor, giggles trying to remain behind tight lips before they wrapped their arms through Brian’s and led him to the living room. 

As the afternoon progressed into the evening, the group of five had binged on the junk food, Andy and John’s tension cooling considerably after the first hour. 

The anger between the two was clear, yet John hadn’t physically gone after Andy and Andy had accepted John’s strange offer of peace via cereal. They had watched some T.V. and chatted some more about the goings on at school. Filling John and Claire in on everything with more detail and preparing them for what might await the next day. 

At some point, Brian had said something about wanting to get his homework done and that they could still chat, he just needed to have it finished before he got home or his mother would kill him. Andy had reluctantly agreed, that he too, needed to have it done before he got home. 

This led to Allison agreeing to work on her, more out of a sense of comradery than actually needing to stay in her parent’s good graces, and though Claire hated homework she eventually conceded, for once, following a group of her friends in doing something productive. 

John didn’t bother, though Allison and Brian had collected his homework from his classes. Though he didn’t protest or tease them he took to throwing paper balls, paper airplanes, and even pencils around the room in relaxed boredom as the others worked. They continued to chat but the teenage ruckus from earlier had calmed at this point. 

For a short time, John had even fallen asleep, snoring softly and jerking in his sleep every once and a while. This gave a small opening for Claire to fill them in on the night before in a soft low voice. She even reiterated not to mention or ask about his face and they all reaffirmed they knew better.  

By the time Claire’s father came home, John was awake again, eating more food to everyone’s surprise, and sitting closer to Claire on the floor around the coffee table they had surreptitiously turned into their work area. 

He pressed his arm behind her, leaning close as he watched her work just as her father came into the living room. 

“Welcome back, Daddy,” Claire said, the group looking up from their books and papers and staring as teenagers tend to do. 

“Ah, Mr. Clark, how are you doing? I hear the wrestling team has a good shot at the finals this year.” Andy reached out over the table to shake his hand and nodded, the teen gave a humble response as he went to stand. 

“You can sit, no worries. Claire? Who are these other friends of yours?” Mr. Standish's eyes ran the group, lingering on John with a less than happy face. 

“Oh, right. Daddy, this is Allison Reynolds-” Allison gave a short wave and a small squeak before looking away. 

Claire furrowed her brow at the girl’s reaction before she motioned to Brian, “This is Brian Johnson.” Brian shook the man’s hand and gave a nervous, “Hello, Sir,” to which Clarie’s father nodded. 

She then motioned to the teen beside her and said, “And this is John Bender, my boyfriend-” To say the man was holding back vomit was an understatement. It seemed to take everything in his power not to lose his shit. 

John’s face at Claire’s sudden admittance of him having attained boyfriend status was no less than extremely shocked. That was a massive step from Claire that the group of three could tell the pair had not discussed. 

Mr. Standish’s eyes lingered on John, the teenager staring back at him. The silence was tense and Claire seemed to realize what she said after she said it. “Daddy?” Claire questioned, the man’s hard eyes breaking from John’s to look at his daughter. She nodded her head subtly to John and the man finally seemed to come back to himself. 

“Right. Nice to meet you, Mr. Bender,” he held out his hand and John stared at it for a moment, seeming to consider the situation heavily before he made a decision. He stood, shoulders back and chin up as he took Mr. Standish’s hand and gave it a firm and solid shake, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Standish.” 

Andy and Brian’s eyes, once alight with wicked humor, dimmed in shock. They had been expecting John to make a spectacle of himself and send Claire’s dad into a fit of rage and panic. Instead, he’d done the exact opposite. Presenting himself confidently and taking the man’s hand as if he held no resentment towards those of the upper class. 

Claire’s jaw dropped too, eyes going wide as she looked between the two with worry. 

Their hands didn’t separate even though they stopped shaking, eyes not blinking at Mr. Standish asked, “So, you’re dating my daughter.” It was not a question, more a statement and John remained like a stone as he nodded, “I guess so. I think she can do better, but she does seem to like me, sir.”

“Imagine that.” the older man said cooley. 

“I don’t need to,” John said back, equally as calm, Claire saw their hands tighten and noticed how John’s face remained unaffected. 

“Are those my son’s clothes?” he asked, concern clear in his voice as to why John had changed his clothes while at his house with his daughter present. 

“Yeah. I’m borrowing them. Mine are in the dryer.” 

“I see-” 

“They were dirty from work, Claire offered. Didn’t want to get the furniture dusty.” John’s voice was clipped as he said it. A subtle dig at Mr. Standish’s pristine home clear distaste for him. 

“I see. Well, you treat my princess right-” he said sharply. 

“Daddy!” Claire whispered harshly under her breath as she glared at the man. 

“You have my word.” John agreed with a sharp nod of his own. Their hands squeezed even tighter before Mr. Standish relented and they let go. They continued to stare at each other before he glanced at his daughter, “You’re mother comes home Saturday, we’ll talk about this then, princess.” 

She just nodded and he bid them a good evening before heading upstairs, telling Claire to use his card if they wanted to go out for dinner.

The entire group suddenly relaxed, all except John who continued to stare after the man with narrow eyes. 

“Jesus-” Claire breathed out as she turned putting her face in shaking hands and leaned over her homework. Allison placed a hand on her back and rubbed slow soothing circles as she leaned in and said, “It’ll be fine, John did well,” 

“I can’t believe I told him that,” Claire said softly. 

John was still standing there, looking at the empty doorway, his posture tense as hell and Andy stood and rounded the coffee table, coming to stand next to him, “He’s gone dude, you can relax.” 

“I. Don’t. Like. Him.” John managed. His eyes still honed in on the doorway, “I couldn’t tell.” Andy said sarcastically, “Why didn’t you tell him as much?” Andy asked as he put a hand on John’s shoulder and the older teen seemed to relax a bit. 

“One thing I learned early on, is never do what adults expect you to do. Keeps them on their toes and pushes ‘em off balance. He expected me to cause a scene, and was looking for any excuse to kick me out. I didn’t give him one and that pissed him off more.” 

Andy was surprised by that answer and followed John’s gaze to the empty doorway, “I’ll remember that. Dude, he’s gone, come on-” 

“He might come back.” John countered softly. 

“Yeah, I doubt it-” When John still didn’t move from his guard dog-esq posture Andy asked softly, “Are there any exceptions to that rule of yours?” 

John finally looked at him, a wicked smile coming to his lips, “The only exception to that rule is Vernon. I give him exactly what he expects.” 

Andy smiled too before laughing softly and he gently shook John’s shoulder, the tense posture finally sliding away. Once the group was back around the coffee table John leaned even closer to Claire, giving her neck a very soft kiss, the redhead looking at him in surprise before she blushed and went back to her homework. 

“Well, we have permission to use his card, you guys wanna go anywhere tonight?” Claire asked, feeling John’s thumb gently rub at her buttcheek through her pants. 

“Can we go back to that burger place?” Brian asked. 

Claire hesitated, glancing at John whose eyes met hers and looked rather stormy, she was silently asking him if he thought it would be safe, and by the soft tilt of his brow, John had no clue. But she could tell he was worried about it. 

The burger joint was on his side of town, and while Claire wasn’t exactly well-versed in the area, she knew it was only a few miles from John’s neighborhood. It sat just on the edge of the city, and John’s home could be considered just around the corner. 

She didn’t know his dad’s M.O. well enough to know if he would still be looking for him, and judging by John’s gaze he didn’t know either. That told Claire the man was unpredictable and so she steered Brian away from that idea. 

“Uhh, maybe next time, besides, I was thinking, if you guys want…we could go to the mall. They have a bunch of different places to eat in the food court and I wanted to take Allison shopping for some cute dresses….I mean…if you want to?” and she looked at the brunette who seemed to consider before she nodded and smiled, “Nothing pink-” 

Claire sighed, “Fine, but if you buy something black can we at least make sure it’s form-fitting?” 

Allison’s eyes narrowed as she negotiated, “Only if it’s not too tight and I don’t want my boobs hanging out.” 

“Gross, no, form-fitting but modest. Something a little more chic but still you. I promise.” Claire crossed her heart with a finger and Allison smiled, “Okay.” 

“Can I get a smoothie?” Brian asked hopefully, “And can we stop at the Arcade?” 

Everyone looked at him and he blushed, “It’s just…I have the highest score on the Fathom pinball machine and I want to make sure no one’s beat it…” 

This made the group chuckle and John grabbed him in a big arm and gave him a noogie. Brian shoved him off and said sharply, “Hey, I suck at everything else! I’m really good at pinball! I gotta defend my title!” 

Andy chuckled, “Bet I could beat it-” 

Brian looked at him doubtfully, “No way, not in Fathom , that’s my game. I mean, come on, think about it. I’m a geek, aside from school and after-school clubs, I don’t do anything besides read comics and hang at the Arcade.” 

“Well, Sporto, that sounds like a challenge, what do you think?” John teased and Andy smirked, looking from John to Brian, “Sounds like you got a bet.” 

“Then let’s go!” John said, standing up and the others followed only for Brian to say softly, “Wait, shouldn’t we finish our homework?” 

“I’m done,” Allison said, closing her civics book as Claire closed her Language Arts guide and said, “Me too.” 

“I have a few more questions to answer,” Andy said, quickly returning to his notebook as Brian nodded and began to finish his last few math problems. 

John just stared at the two, “Finish it in homeroom-” 

“I can’t, my folks go through my bag every night and if it’s not done I get reamed, besides, I got like three left. It won’t take long.” Andy said softly, still focusing on his notebook. 

“Come on, this is stupid, we ain’t a real study group, just throw some bullshit on paper and we can go-” 

“Not gonna happen, I need good grades to stay on the wrestling team. I can’t bullshit my way through this.” Andy said. 

“One time won’t kill you’re career in modeling spandex, Jockstrap. Come on, let’s go!” John ordered but Andy just kept working, Brian remaining next to him and flying through the rest of his math. 

Claire looked at him and smiled, “Don’t you have math homework to finish too? You didn’t even start chapter three, it’s due Friday, you know.” she said it in a rather cheeky and flirty manner so John looked at her and smirked, “I never do the homework, I just show up and take the tests.” 

“Yeah? How’s that working out for you?” Andy teased. 

“Just fine Jockstrap, I’ve been cruising at a C all year,” John said defensively. 

“I can help if you want-” Brian started only for John to snap back, “I don’t need help. I know how to do math, dumbass, I just think homework is dumb.” 

“Won’t get far in life with that attitude,” Andy murmured. 

“You got a problem with how I do shit, dickbag?” 

Andy looked up and said sternly, “No, you don’t wanna do your homework, I don’t give a shit, but some of us can’t afford to fuck off about it. My folks would be pissed and Brian’s folks would probably skin him alive, so stop being a dick and let us finish. Faster you shut up, the faster we get done and the sooner we can all go to the mall.” 

John glared at him, his fists tightening and he seemed about to go off but Claire stood and came to wrap her arms around his own, “Hey, let’s go see if you’re clothes are done in the dryer. They’re almost done. I don’t think you wanna go to the Mall in my brother’s old clothes.”

“I think he looks sexy in a button-down.” Allison teased and Andy snorted, leaving Claire to chuckle as she kissed his cheek, “Come on.” John looked at her and she wiggled her brows. 

That seemed to deflate his annoyance and he nodded, allowing her to take his hand and guide him through the house to the basement door where they descended into the dim light. 

The basement was mostly finished aside from the laundry area that lay through a door near the back of the large open space. They were silent up until Claire led him to the dryer and hopped on top of it. She pulled John towards her, kissing him softly, his hands coming to run along her hips and grope at her waist. 

Eventually, John pressed his forehead to hers and asked, “So…I’m your boyfriend?” his tone was playful, borderline sarcastic, but Claire could hear the hint of true curiosity underneath. He wanted clarification. He wanted to know if that had been part of their ruse or if she’d meant it. 

“That depends on you,” she said softly, her knees squeezing his waist as he stepped closer and pressed himself against her. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. You want a prude for a girlfriend?” his lips were kissing her neck, hands rubbing softly, and a breathy moan left her lips as he gave the gentlest of bites to her skin. 

“Mmm, I wouldn’t call you a prude.” 

“I’m not exactly giving it away, though.” Claire managed as his hand snaked up under her shirt and continued to stroke across her warm skin. 

“Don’t care. Am I your boyfriend?” he asked again, this time more adamant in his tone as he continued to coax her. 

“Mmmm,” she moaned, his mouth now kissing and sucking along her jaw, tongue lapping gently against skin that was moments from being on fire. 

“Tell me-” he whispered sternly. 

“I want you to be.” she finally managed, her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him flush against her. The cool top of the dryer sent a chill up her spine as the heat from John’s chest washed across her front. 

“Yeah? Wanna be my girl, Cherry?” he asked roguishly as his hands gripped her hips hard and pulled her forward to the edge of the dryer. 

“Mm-hm-” she nodded into his shoulder as her hands fisted the back of his shirt. 

“Well then, guess I’m your boyfriend. Daddy’s gonna hate that.” 

“He already does, what else do we have to lose?” Claire asked playfully. 

“Just your dignity and self-respect.” she laughed, his soft hair tickling her nose as she whispered into his ear, “You’ve given me more respect than most other people in my life, try again.” 

“Ah, well then…I guess, depending on how long we stay together, you could stand to lose your virginity.” while his tone was that of playful banter Claire pulled back, looking into his face, and as their eyes met his smile faded. 

There it was, for the first time since the closet, that sharp pull of electricity between them. A heated moment as their eyes locked and he seemed unsure, she felt brave, and her fingers came to rub across his bruised lips, “I’m not…against it.” she admitted softly, her eyes betraying no fear or coy game. 

John stilled, soft breaths puffing past her fingers still frozen on his parted mouth, “Yeah?”

She pressed her forehead against his, “Yeah. It may take awhile still, but…I’m not as scared of it as I was and I…I really…like you. I’d prefer love…but…a lot can happen in a little bit of time…right?” her question wasn’t loaded so much as hopeful and John nodded once, “Sure can.” 

“Okay.” he caught her lips and they kissed deeply for a long moment before Claire finally pulled away, sliding from his hands and to the floor, using a finger to fix her smudged lip gloss as she checked his clothes. 

“They’re dry.” she said looking at him, the older teen staring at her heatedly as his hand came up to cup her womanhood gently through her pants, “Are you?” 

She jerked up, burst into laughter, playfully slapped his chest, and shook her head, “God, you’re so gross.” but the affection in her voice was dripping and John nodded, “Uh-huh…get back up on the dryer-” 

“We gotta go, they’re probably done with their homework-” 

He reached down and flipped the dryer door shut, pressing her back against the metal box as he whispered against her lips, “Back on the dryer, now-” Claire’s knees went weak and her stomach was filled with butterflies as his hands came to grab her hips and hoist her up. 

“Five minutes, then we can go-” John slid his hand down the front of her pants as Claire’s head craned back, her eyes closing as she bit her bottom lip and surrendered to his ministrations. 

Page Break 

The mall wasn’t that busy, but enough people there that getting food took a little longer than expected. Once they’d all chosen a place and grabbed food, they sat down and ate quickly, the girls wanted to go check out the clothing stores, Andy and Brian had a bet to finish at the Arcade and John wanted to stop in the surplus store to look for some new boots. 

They agreed to reconvene by the central tower in one hour, the clock ticking unassumingly as they broke away and went about their desired business. 

Claire had a hard time watching John walk away from them, the older teen saying he’d catch up with her and Allison once he was done. She’d offered to let him take her dad’s car but John had declined, saying he had enough cash saved up from working in his buddy's shop to get a pair of used work boots. 

Eventually, Allison and Claire made it into the store the redhead had been wanting to show her darkly clad friend. As they searched both the clearance and mainstay racks they were browsing the return section when Allison asked knowingly, “So, he's really your boyfriend now?” 

Claire scoffed, “Yeah. I mean, I guess so. He agreed.” she kept sliding clothes along the rack, looking at patterns and colors and cuts, not meeting Allison’s eye. 

“Well?” the brunette asked. 

“Well, what?”

Allison made a massive gesture with her hands and stared at the girl incredulously, “Are you happy? Are you not happy? What?” Claire looked at her a moment, expression blank before a slow smile curled up her lips and her eyes sparkled a little. 

“I mean, sure, yeah I’m happy. It’s just a thing. Right? He’ll be my boyfriend until he’s tired of me or-” 

Cold fingers suddenly grabbed her face, leaving her lips to pop out like a fish, “Claire, come on….you’re dating John Bender… you’re not a girl he just considers. He likes you, not your looks, money, or family name…he likes you. And it’s just yeah, fine, whatever, it’s just a thing? It’s me you’re talking to, not Becca!” Allison said, giving the girl a more pointed stare as her Cheshire-like grin gleamed brightly in the store. 

Allison let go of her face and Claire blushed deep red before she looked back at the clothes and seemed to consider her words, “Okay…I’m happy…like super happy…it’s just…a big step…and I haven’t had the time to process-” 

“It’s for real though, right? Not just to mess with your parents?” 

Claire met her eyes, the smile fading before she nodded softly, “No. Not for them. I just…really like him. He’s a little rough around the edges…and he has more daddy issues than I do…I mean…the guy is a total burnout. But…he’s also nice and sweet and gentle and a really good kisser and-” Claire caught herself gushing so she bit her bottom lip, looking back at the clothes as if they were far more interesting than what she was gonna say. 

Allison leaned in, a hand on Claire’s shoulder as she said softly, “Tell me-” the reassurance in her voice so very gentle as Claire met her gaze. Claire hesitated for only a moment before she looked back out into the mall and asked, “Coffee?” Allison smirked and nodded and the pair abandoned the clothes for now to grab coffee and have a chat. 

When Brian entered the arcade he was greeted by high fives and calls of exaltation. Andy followed along behind, keeping his head down and his shoulders tights. While the Arcade wasn’t “forbidden” in the jock or a-list crowds and most of the jocks did come here to enjoy their weekends, being there with Brian would get him a lot of jibes at school if any other Jocks saw. 

Andy was trying hard to let go of his past issues. And the idea of living life how he wanted to because in a year none of this would matter was genuine. He liked Brian and Allison and even Bender. But he was still a little unsure of how well this was going to go given a lot of the geeks and nerds from their school come here and he’d bullied most of them at one point or another. 

Still, Brian assured him it would be okay and Andy did have a bet to win. So as they passed through the Arcade, other teen boys who looked about as awkward and scrawny as Brian praised the blonde boy as he passed, Andy tried to be respectful and quiet and not draw too much attention to himself. 

They reached the back wall, deep within the dimly lit Arcade, and found the long row of pinball machines. As the music blasted over the speakers and the flashing colors of other machines blasted around them Andy pulled quarters from his pocket and readied himself. 

“Wait…hang on…I gotta check.” Brian said and Andy looked up at the screen of the machine, showing the top five players. His eyes went wide when he saw Brian’s name at the top, though he’d spelled it Brain , the score resting firmly in the millions. 

“Jesus Christ-” Andy whispered, staring at the number and swallowing thickly. 

“Still think you can beat me?” Brian asked with a rather cocky tone and Andy looked at him, seeing the cheesy grin and sparkling eyes of someone confident in their abilities. It was the first time that Andy knew he’d ever seen Brian looking this sure of himself, this utterly pleased about something he’d accomplished. 

Andy might think it pathetic if he didn’t already know how hard it was to get that high of a score, especially on Fathom. And honestly, he didn’t want to knock the guy down. This was Brian’s turf, and he spent the bulk of his free time working his ass off for those numbers. 

“I’ll give it a shot.” Andy said, “If I win, you gotta buy me lunch for a week.” 

Brian rolled his eyes, leaning against the side of the machine and crossing his arms, “If you don’t beat my score?” 

Andy smirked, “I’ll pay for your next date with Natalie.” Andy slid the coins in and got ready to play but he didn’t see Brian's face fall a little. 

“Yeah, I don’t know if Natalie’s going to be a thing,” Brian said softly, hands descending to stuff his pockets as he looked down at the floor with a rather miserable face. Andy glanced at him but didn’t waste any time before engaging the pin and shooting his first ball. 

“Why not?” he asked, focusing in on the silver ball as it darted around the floor of the machine. 

“I don’t know. She gave me a ride home last night and I kissed her and stuff…but she was trying to get me to do her and me-” Andy instantly stopped playing, letting the silver ball drop through the bottom and Brian gave him a disturbing look as he motion to the ball in disgust, “Whatcha do that for-” 

“Shut up.” Andy said, turning to look at the gangly youth and placing a hand on his shoulder as he looked dead in his eyes, “Let me get this straight, Natalie, the girl you like wanted to have sex with you, and you didn’t do it?”

Brian suddenly looked annoyed, pressing Andy’s hand off his shoulder as he said hotly, “Look, it isn’t that I didn’t want to. Yeah, I wanted to have sex with her. But I didn’t have a condom, my parents were home, I wasn’t about to do her in the car and I was nervous as hell! Plus, she said at the movie theatre that same night I couldn’t see her boobs until the 3rd date then she tried to do it in the back of her parent's car in front of my parent's house. I like her and everything, but it felt really weird.”

His voice had been stern and adamant in its delivery of Brian’s recap. Showing he was both disappointed in himself for not going for it and that he also felt like he dodged a huge bullet. Andy let it all sink in before he said with a sigh, “Yeah when you put it like that…it sounds really weird.” Andy shook his head and turned back to the game, starting up another silver ball and shooting it onto the board as Brian relaxed and said softly, “Anyway, I think she was just using me to try and make her ex jealous. Which, I mean, hey…fine by me…but I’m not losing my virginity to some chick in the back of her parent's car when my little sister is in the front room playing with her Barbies by the window, fifty feet from me. Just forget I brought it up.” 

Andy suddenly stopped playing again, letting the ball fall to the hole as he hung his head and sighed heavily, Brian looked at him in question, unsure why he let another ball go, “Dude, you have got to stop making it so obvious how pathetic you are. You wanna save your virginity until you’re married or find the right girl, it’s whatever, I don’t judge, but don’t fucking announce the fact your a virgin in the middle of the god damn Arcade-” and Andy threw his eyes to the left, Brian glancing to see a small group of girls whispering and giggling nearby as they ate popcorn and slurped on sodas. 

Brian looked even more miserable as he slunk down to the floor, “Great-” 

John walked into the Surplus Shop and began to browse. He gave a half salute to the guy behind the counter who knew him well, the older man, whose name was Harold, nodded before going back to his ragged book. He was always reading the same book and was usually somewhere in the middle. John suspected he just wanted to look busy so he could eavesdrop and keep an eye out for shoplifters, but either way, the guy never really bothered him. 

They’d had a few really interesting conversations too, the guy was a military vet, and if John bought something Harold would tell him a short story about one of his many trips overseas. Not all of them were about the wars he’d been in, some were about the countries he’d been to, people he’d met, women he’d spent time with. The guy was gruff and his long silver hair made him look a little creepy, but overall, John judged him as a good guy. 

Because he never stole anything and paid cash, Harold usually let John go off to the back of the store without giving him any problems. He beelined to the back now, heading for the boot drop off. He’d been waiting months to get a new pair and John finally had enough money in his pocket. Jake had been a bit more generous with his pay recently as he’d managed to refurbish several bikes and sold them for a nice chunk of change. 

As John looked his mind kept going back to the basement of Claire’s house, thinking about how they were officially dating and how excited yet weary he felt. He hadn’t been this excited about anything in a long time, and while he didn’t trust it would last, he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he possibly could. 

Waking up next to her, showering together, missing school, eating all the food, it had been such a good day. Aside from Andy losing his shit a little, nothing bad had happened. Good days were so rare for him, but this week had been surprisingly good and John didn’t want to acknowledge he was long overdue for some pain and suffering. 

That was the truth of his life, one or two good things, usually small in their existence would happen and John would be happy, then it would be followed by several months of pain and suffering due to his inept judgment and the good things would fade. They always faded. This thing with Claire would fade too. Eventually. He’d be ready for it though, he’d brace himself in all ways that mattered so when she got tired of him, or couldn’t face the jeering of her friends and inevitably dumped him, he’d be okay. 

He couldn’t stand the idea of losing his shit over a girl, even one as beautiful and soft as Claire. His only hope at this point was being able to date her long enough that when she did decide to dump him, maybe they’d be done with school and he wouldn’t have to deal with all the stupid people who would want to give him a hard time. 

He’d deal with it if they did, but he sure as hell didn’t want to see their smug faces in the aftermath of the breakup. Overall, John didn’t care what anyone thought, at least, that’s what he told himself. But he knew, there were certain times people could get under his skin, and he was rather defensive in general. He had to be. Too many people would take advantage of him if he wasn’t. 

He dropped the pair of boots he was holding and continued to look for his size. He needed a pair with a thick sole and mesh rivets for airflow. Steal toe was best but- 

“I really like you…..a lot can happen in a little bit of time right?” 

John shivered, closing his eyes and thinking about her sweet face, wishing he could smell her perfume, wanting to rub his hands over her silken skin and taste those cherry lips of hers. He was about to give up and go find his girlfriend when he noticed one lone boot sticking out from under the shoe rack on the floor. He grabbed it, flipped it over, and smirked, “Well I’ll be, found a shoe for my tootsies-” 

It had taken a few minutes to find the other shoe, but after noticing it had been dropped into an empty amo box he snatched it up and was heading to the front. The nice thing about Surplus stores in general was the fact it was all decent quality for not a lot of money and as he walked out from the back he thought himself incredibly lucky. 

But John Bender had a knack for running out of luck, and as he raised his head from the pair of shiny black shoes to tell Harold he found what he wanted he came to a dead stop. At the counter, talking to Harold who looked not too pleased to see him was John’s dad. 

“Oh shit-” John said under his breath, he ducked down behind a circle rack of old combat fatigues, his heart hammering in his chest. His brain felt like it was shooting electrical pulses out of itself like sun spots, adrenaline spiking hard. 

“So you haven’t seen him? I know the little dirtbag likes to come in here and spend money he doesn’t have on this bullshit.” 

“No. I told you, I ain’t seen your kid. But judging by your face I get why he’s dodging you.” Harold said snidely. 

“What’d you say, you greasy old prick?” 

John would have laughed if he wasn’t so fucking terrified. Slowly he clutched the shoes to his chest, crawling across the ground and keeping low, using the clothing racks and floor displays to his advantage. If Harold saw him he didn’t let on, continuing to hold his dad’s attention as the young man quietly moved towards the door. 

Once near the exit, John stood up and held a 20 dollar bill for Harold to see, the man’s eyes flicking quickly as lighting between John and the man in front of him. John set the bill on the shelf right by the exit and left the store at a jog. 

He didn’t stop jogging until he was at the central tower, the clock’s face showing it was nearly time to meet his friends. He plopped down on a bench, swivaling his head back and forth chaotically his he panted breath, feeling like he might hyperventilate. 

He had to calm down, had to get himself under control. What the fuck was his old man doing still looking for him. He should have given up by now. Why the hell was he still on the prowl? Didn’t he have a job to do? Cars to tow? Beers to drink and threats to yell at people? 

John took off his old boots, removing the red bandana from around the right one and watching as the sole of that boot plopped onto the floor. He slid his new ones on, head still swiveling as he laced them quickly, before readorning his right boot with the red piece of fabric. 

He tossed his old boots in the trash and then headed for a large group of indoor plants near one of the cafes. He disappeared behind them but kept his eyes on the clock, moving from the hands to the people, looking for both his dad and his friends. 

Andy and Brian were the first to show, and John debated. He should wait for all of them to get there, if he waited then as soon as he got to them he could usher them out to Andy’s truck. He continued to wait, eyes searching for the girls, searching for his dad, trying to get his breathing under control. 

A few more minutes passed and finally, he saw the mess of red hair and dark brooding brunette strands of the girls. He took one more look around and when he didn’t see his dad he inhaled a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and stepped out from behind the large topiary of plants. 

He went right for them, hands fisting, heart pounding, his mind screaming at him to reach them and get them outside. Andy was the first to see him, raising a hand to acknowledge him and John was about to wave back when a hand gripped the back of his hair and yanked him hard to the side. 

“There you are! You know how much shit I’ve had to go through to find your sorry ass?” 

“Shit!” John instinctively jerked away but the hand in his hair was like a vice and he sucked in breath through his teeth. 

“No, you don’t, you’re coming home!” His dad hissed angrily, jerking John along behind him. John managed to spot Andy on his way over, the three behind him in pursuit and John quickly waved them away. Andy kept coming though, picking up pace and leaving the others behind. 

“Don’t!” John suddenly yelled out and Andy stopped dead in his tracks, John’s dad reeled him around and shoved him against one of the support pillars of the upper walkway, “You don’t tell me what to do, boy! I’m your dad and you’re gonna listen.” Passerbys said nothing, and John felt his anger start to grow, his defense mechanism ready to rage against the embarrassment, the humiliation, the fucking brutality but at the sight of a woman walking by and pulling her small child closer he calmed a little and let out a sigh, “Sorry, sir. Can we go? I’m chill, swear to god.” 

His dad looked him up and down and studied his face a moment before he also sighed, “Fine. Get moving you little shit. You’re in for a world of hurt when you get home so I suggest you don’t cause any more problems.” 

“Yeah.” 

“What!?” his dad snapped, turning back on him, “I said I got it!” John spat. 

“Move it, shit bag.” and his dad shoved him forward, marching him out of the mall and into the parking lot. 

Andy stood, not too far from where the pair had been, his face stone and fists clenched as Claire, Allison, and Brian came to stand next to him, looking at the door the two had just walked out of. 

“What do we do?” Claire asked, “Andy?” the soon-to-be young man just clenched his jaw harder and stared daggers at the door. 

Chapter Text

They had talked about the situation all the way home from the mall. None of them knew exactly where John lived, and though Claire had convinced Andy to drive to the area where John always had her drop him off, she could not figure out where to go from there. Part of her had hoped, though she could admit it was naively so, that there would be some sign as to which house was his, maybe a hint as to which road to take, what neighborhood to check. But sadly, once they had reached the usual drop-off point Claire had no clue. They were on the lookout for a busted-up tow truck, for the correct brand of cigarettes that John smoked on the ground amongst the sea of hundreds they saw, for a piece of clothing, for any clue but none could be found. 

They had no choice but to go home, and Claire, the biggest mess of them all, was wringing her hands that he'd try to call her. At the same time, if calling her would get him in more trouble...she almost hoped he wouldn't. Andy looked pissed beyond measure, Brian looked worried and Allison sat in some sort of contemplative silence as if she was hatching a plan that she dare not tell any of them. 

As they pulled up outside of Brian's house he asked sheepishly, "Hey guys, maybe we should call the police." 

Andy snapped quickly, shoving the sifter into park, "And tell them what? That our friend was kidnapped by his own dad?"  

Brian swallowed and nodded, realizing how stupid that sounded, "It's not a bad idea, what about his face, Andy, huh?" Claire spat back at him, her own brand of annoyancing flashing. 

"So? What about it?" Andy asked defensively. 

Claire rolled her eyes, "What, you think they'd just ignore that? We could tell them he hit John, tell them the truth! They'd have to do something, right?" and Claire wiped at her eyes furiously, frustrated at herself for crying as she tried to justify calling the authorities. 

"Yeah, maybe-" Andy said, considering her words as he gripped the steering wheel hard and stared at the dashboard. 

"I wouldn't-" Allison said softly, the three looked at her as she peered out at them through her thick dark locks. 

"Why not?" Claire asked softly, her hands continuing their nervous rubbing together. 

"Even if the cops believe us...the only thing they can do is remove him from their care." 

"Wouldn't that be a good thing?" Brian asked. 

"Maybe...but we wouldn't know where they put him...and he won't get a say in who they select to place him with...could be outside of Shermer...could be up in Chicago...we'd never see him again...unless he came back here when he aged out at eighteen next year." 

Claire looked utterly crestfallen and after a long moment of tense silence, Andy hit his steering wheel violently, "Damn it! I was right there! I was right fucking there and I stopped! I could have grabbed him, we could have gotten him out of there and he told me to stop...that stupid mother fucker....that....that fucking dumb ass!" 

"Andy!" Claire suddenly yelled and he turned to look at her, eyes filled with anger, "Stop-" she said softly, more tears falling, "I know you're angry but it wasn't your fault. John didn't want you to get involved, he doesn't want any of us involved when it comes to his dad." 

Andy studied her a moment, swallowing as he considered her words only to say softly, 'Too bad." 

Brian, Claire, and Allison looked at him, the young man's resolve setting tightly on his brow, "He's our friend, right?" the three nodded, "Then I say, we find his ass." 

"How?" Claire asked hopelessly, and Allison reached out and took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. 

"I...I don't know. But for now, we each need to get back home and stay close to the phone. If he calls any of us, we set up a place to meet him and then we all go. We're stronger together, right? So, we'll get him out of there together." 

Claire and Allison nodded as Brian glanced at Andy and hesitated, "Right?" Andy asked again, his eyes meeting Brian's and for the first time Brian felt like Andy needed him. There was something in the way the guy looked at him as if he was saying, you're up, it's your turn to have my back, Bender isn't here, it's up to you. 

Brian sighed slowly, before he nodded, "Yeah, he calls, we'll get him out." Andy reached out his hand and Brian took it, the pair giving a rather friendly shake and Allison and Claire smiled.

"Alright then. See you tomorrow, man." Brian nodded, grabbed his bag, and waved to the girls as he shut the door. 

Claire had been the next to be dropped off and as soon as she was home she ran right up to her room and grabbed her phone.  She sat down in the window seat and placed the phone on her lap, staring at it and willing it to ring. She chewed her thumbnail, then her pinky nail, and then her bottom lip before she stuck her thumbnail back between worrying teeth. 

"Come on John, call me....I can be there in ten minutes....call me...." she whispered at the phone but it remained silent and she sternly set it aside and marched over to her vanity. She stared at her reflection for a long moment, the nail still stuck between her teeth as she bounced between her feet and looked back at the phone. 

"Call me, baby, come on....call me-" she whispered again, the worry in her stomach exploding a little more each time she begged him to call. She paced, then she sat on her bed, then she paced some more and then turned to look at the phone and yell loudly, "Call me, god damn it!" she grabbed a compact off her vanity and chucked it at the wall, the thing breaking in half and casting red blush all over her white carpet. 

She started to cry, harder this time, the worry inside of her finally rupturing. She sunk to her knees and poured out her sadness only to hear her bedroom door open suddenly, "Claire? Princess? What's wrong?" her dad was peering in at her and Claire tried to pull herself together, wiping her face quickly, "Huh? Oh, nothing, just...just tripped and...uh...dropped my blush...sorry, I'll...I'll get it cleaned up." 

"You sure you're alright?" her dad asked, entering her room and kneeling next to her, a warm hand coming to her back, she nodded quickly, "Uh-huh, yeah, I'm fine...I mean...you know us girls. Crazy about our makeup, right? Totally crazy." she was still straightening her hair as her father smiled at her warmly, "Does this have to do with that boy you were dating?"

Claire looked up into his smiling face, "Uh...were?" she questioned. 

"Well, I just assumed, throwing your makeup around, yelling at the phone to ring...I just assumed...did you break up with him? Cause you know, you really shouldn't cry over a guy like him. Don't want to stress that beautiful face of yours with pointless tears."

"You think I'm upset because I broke up with John?" Claire asked in utter shock. 

"Well? Didn't you? I told you I didn't want you to see him. And honestly, you can do much better than a boy like him. He's trouble-"

"He isn't trouble, he's in trouble!" Claire said quickly, thinking suddenly that maybe if her father knew he could help. She was mad at him, but her father had enough money...maybe he could help John find a place to stay on his own. Maybe....maybe- 

"Well, I'm not surprised. A boy like him lives for trouble, that's why I don't think it's a good idea for-" Claire suddenly saw red, unable to control it, unable to process how happy her father looked at the prospect of her breaking up with John, unable to understand why his happy face offended her so much. John had done nothing to hurt her, he'd done everything to make her happy and feel cared for. He'd been a gentleman, put his desires for sex on hold for her comfort and boundaries, he'd respected her...he'd made her feel....made her feel so...

"Get. Out." Claire said. 

"What? Sweetie, princess, please, just try to understand...he's not a good look for you...and he probably only wants one thing-" 

"I said, get. out! Now! Get out of here!" and she smacked his legs as he stood, "Claire Standish, this behavior is inappropriate! What on Earth has gotten into you?" Her father questioned angrily, his voice was now both annoyed and confused and she could do nothing but let out the most frustrated high-pitched growl, "You'd rather I be miserable than ever care about what makes me happy! You judge him before you even know him! You treat him like trash because he isn't rich like you! I hate you! I hate you! Get out!" she started pushing him, the man not fighting her but still protesting. 

As soon as he cleared the frame she slammed the door and locked it, her father calling out to her several times before she heard him curse and walk away, murmuring more nonsense under his breath. 

Claire closed her eyes, her lips rolling together as her chin trembled and she felt her heart hammering in her chest. She had never yelled at her father before, she'd never told him off before. What the hell was she thinking? What the hell was going to happen now? Why the hell did she care!? Even if he cut off her allowance, took back all the credit cards, and took the keys to her car how would she be worse off than she was now? It wouldn't change anything, she'd still be miserable....she'd still hate her life...she's still want to be with John and see the Breakfast Club. 

John...oh my god, John! What about John? 

Claire started to walk back to the phone only to jump when it started to ring and she lunged for it, hands shaking as she put the receiver to her ear, "Hello!? Hello!? J-John!?" 

"I'm sorry, it's me." came Allison's soft voice, the timid wince she was making could be heard over the line as she realized she'd just got Claire's hopes up. 

Claire closed her eyes and rubbed at the bridge of her nose, "It's...it's okay. Have you heard anything? Has he called you?" 

"No," Allison said faintly, her fears clear in her voice. 

Claire couldn't take it, she was worried sick, and she had little recourse but to start rationalizing, "It's..okay. It's going to be fine. He's going to be fine. I mean...he's what? Seventeen? He's lived with them his whole life...he knows how to...how to deal with it...he'll be fine right?" 

The silence on the other end was deafening and Claire pressed the receiver closer to her ear, "Al?" 

This seemed to spur her awake and she said with more strength, "Yeah. He knows how to survive. He'll be okay. You know John better than any of us, you think he'll take this shit lying down?" 

Claire had to chuckle, had to laugh bitterly because it was all that was left to her at the moment, "He wouldn't. He'll fight." 

"Yeah." Allison agreed in that morose way of hers. 

"So...why did you call?" Claire asked suddenly. 

"I...have an idea. On how to find John. But...we gotta wait until tomorrow." 

"What? What do you mean? What idea? Why tomorrow?" 

"Well, for one, John might come to school tomorrow. If he does, we have nothing to worry about." Allison offered and Claire nodded her head quickly, latching on to that little tidbit of hope far too quickly. 

"And if he doesn't?" she asked. 

"I have an idea of how to get his address. I was looking through the phone book and there were a lot of Benders, it would take forever to check them all. But...there may be another way." 

"How?" Claire asked, more hope threading through her stomach as she waited anxiously. 

"There is only one Bender that goes to our school, so...his address should be on file...the files in the school basement. I'm gonna try to get to them." her voice was laced with clever amusement and Claire's eyes bulged, "Oh my god, you're right! But, how are you going to-" 

"Leave that to me. If I get caught...I don't want you, Andy, or Brian, to get into trouble too, the less you know the better. You can play dumb if you're asked about it." 

"Oh...right. I guess. But...are you sure you want to risk it? You could get suspended if you're caught." 

"Whoopty do. Not a big deal for me. My folks don't even know I exist, it isn't hard for them to ignore me whether I'm home or not. Besides, John's our friend...my friend. I want to help." 

"Thanks, Al. You're...you're amazing." 

"I know."  she giggled into the phone and Claire finally felt a real smile and soft laugh cross her lips. But it didn't last long and slowly faded, Claire rubbing at her swollen eyes before saying quietly, "God, I hope he's okay. Please let him be okay-" 

"He will be. It's John...nothing can get him down. He's our fearless leader." 

Claire smiled again, this was smaller, more subtle, "Yeah. He really is-" At that moment her phone beeped and she nearly choked, "Oh my god, I have a call on the other line, I gotta...it could be him. See you tomorrow!" 

"Call me if it is!" Allison ordered and Claire nodded but didn't verbally agree because she was too panicked, she switched the call over right away, "Hello!? John!?" 

"Hey, sweets-" 

"Oh my god! Oh my god! You're okay! Where are you? I'll come-" 

"Hey, calm down, I don't have a lot of time...I'm not exactly supposed to be on the phone." his voice was low, nearly a whisper and Claire instantly went still, pressing the phone to her ear even harder as she waited, "Okay, sorry, okay...what's going on? Can you get out?" 

"No. Look, that's not what this call is about. Just...I just wanted to let you know I'm okay. I'll see you tomorrow at school. Just don't come looking for me, you understand? Don't come near my house. You or Andy or anyone." 

"Promise me. Promise me you'll be there. I need to see you, make sure you're okay...please-" she whispered, tears falling again as her voice trembled. 

There was a long pause, and Claire swore she heard him swallow thickly as he managed a nearly casual, "Hey, don't worry, you know me. I'm fine. Piece of cake. It's no big deal. The old man was just pissed about the other night...and...some other stuff. It's nothing. Just get some sleep. I'll-" 

"John Bender you, you p-promise me. Promise me you will be at school tomorrow," she asked again, her heart hurting as the adrenaline began to fade. 

Another long pause, the sound of labored breaths and a soft curse before he finally said, "I'll be there. Promise. For you...I'd do anything." she wanted to believe him, wanted to feel relief wash across her body and feel her anxiety settle. But his voice, something in his voice didn't sound quite right. Something was telling her, he was going to try, but anxiety and fear were lurking softly in his hushed tones. 

"I...I...John I..." 

"I know. Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow." he hung up quickly, and she didn't get a chance to finish or say goodbye. She sat there on the floor, hearing the dial tone ringing out into the silence of her room. She thought to call Allison back but she suddenly felt numb. All she could think about was his voice, the calm urgency to speak with her, the possible lie he had just told to make her feel better. The sudden disconnect of the line. She hung up her phone and continued to sit. 

She'd gone from panic at the mall, to rage at her father, to anxious and now completely numb. She'd never felt numb before. Tonight was turning out to have a lot of firsts. The first time yelling at her dad. The first time feeling so much concern for someone other than herself that it physically hurt her and the first time her mind and body seemed to just shut down completely. 

Claire didn't know how long she sat there, she didn't know when she moved to her bed and curled up under her blankets and she didn't know what time she fell asleep. All she could think was that tomorrow if he wasn't there, she would find him, his demand to stay away falling on deaf ears. Claire wasn't the brightest when it came to emotions, but she knew now, in this moment of numbness, of laying in the dark silence of her room, she cared about John more than Paris, she cared about him more than her father's approval or money, she cared about him more than she cared about herself. If John Bender wasn't at school tomorrow, she was going to find him, his orders to stay away be damned. 

Thursday, March 30th, 7:00am

She parked her car and got out quickly, she didn't wait to see if any of the Club members were going to show up. She had grabbed her purse and books and beelined for the school. She was exhausted, her hair was a mess, her makeup was slapdash at best and her clothes only looked presentable because it was an outfit she had previously put together to give to Allison. She climbed the stairs in a hurry, shoving through the door and walking straight to John's locker. 

Planting her feet and placing a shoulder on the cold metal, she ignored the early arrivals' eyes as they looked at her and she waited. Her face was hard, eyes focused on the end of the hall and the bright red doors leading to the outside. More students began to file in and the first of the Club to appear was Brian. He walked quickly down the hall, not sparing a glance at anyone who waved at him. He came to stand next to her without a word, joining her in staring at the doors. 

Allison followed suit, coming in through the doors in a huddled hurry, eyes locking onto Claire's and not looking away. Once she was next to them she too turned and waited, "He called me last night." Claire said, not looking away from the doors that now seemed to nearly glow. 

"What did he say?" Allison asked, eyes dark and seeming to will John to walk in as she waited for Claire to respond. 

"He said he'd be here, that we shouldn't worry. And that if he isn't here we need to stay away and not look for him." Claire said in a rather monotone voice. 

"Not gonna happen." Allison deadpanned back. 

"Nope." Claire agreed. 

"if he doesn't want us looking-" Brian started only for the two girls to give him a death glare. Brian flushed, "Right. Sorry. We'll find him." Allison continued to stare at him a moment longer, Brian giving a sheepish wince in return, "You're smart when it comes to books and equations, but what you need to realize is, sometimes, when people tell you not to do something, you need to do it anyway. They may not like it...but it's for their own good." 

Brian studied her a moment longer before he finally gave a soft nod, "Okay." 

Andy came through the doors then, spying the three staring right at him and he looked around as he made his way over, "Anyone hear from him?" Andy asked when he finally arrived. 

"He called me. It wasn't good. He said he'd be here. But I don't think he's going to make it. We're going to have to find him." Claire offered, her eyes watering but she instantly cursed under her breath and once again wiped at her eyes furiously, "Damn." 

"It's okay. I figured as much. I'm not an abusive dick head, but if I had a kid whose face I busted up I wouldn't want him going to school either. People might talk." 

"He didn't seem to care at the mall-" Brian murmured and Andy looked at him, "No, you're right, he didn't. But he figured Bender was alone. Bet he counted on random strangers not doing shit, and he was right. Aside from us trying to get to him, no one did anything. But Bender comes to school all busted up, if he told someone how he got hurt, the teachers might actually report it. He'd be in hot water then-" 

"Miss. Standish!" the small group turned to look down the hall towards the gym, Principle Vernon was marching right towards them, "Oh shit-" Claire murmured. 

"We'll meet you at lunch." Andy said and Claire nodded as they moved on to their respective lockers, "I want to see you in my office, young lady, right now!" 

Claire swallowed and then nodded, looking around again to see if John had shown only to reluctantly turn and follow Principle Vernon down the hall. 

Page Break 

"Have a seat, little lady, and you just tell me why you decided it would be such a great idea to skip school yesterday." 

Claire's brow furrowed in confusion, the redhead clearing her throat softly as she tried to pull herself together, "I...I thought my father called me in. I asked him to. I had....cramps." she blushed as she said it but she couldn't let it bother her. It was embarrassing to admit something like that to Vernon but she had to cover her ass and John's as well. 

"You think I'm dumb?" Vernon asked tightly, his eyes narrow as he looked at her. His arms were crossed as he took a seat on the edge of his desk and glared down at her. Claire shook her head quickly, biting her bottom lip and trying to remain calm. Her knuckles were white from squeezing her books and she pressed her legs together tightly to try and keep them from bouncing or shaking. 

"Look, you're just a kid. Believe it or not, I get it. Hard to accept, but I was a kid myself once. I know when a girl has her daddy call in so she can spend the day pissing off with her new boyfriend." Claire had to fight hard to keep her face blank, an expressionless mask taking firm hold over the extreme worry that wanted to settle in and expose her to this man. 

"Here's the deal, I know you've been seeing John Bender since last Saturday, whether I agree with this life choice of yours is beside the point." 

"What is the point?" Claire asked softly, no attitude, no snark, just an honest question she wanted to know the answer to but Vernon took it as sass and barked back at her, "The point is, little missy, that John Bender is a burnout good for nothing waste of potential. He's also a waste of your time. Now, listen to me and choose carefully, I can either call your father right now and let him know you lied to him about being....unwell..." Claire had to stop a small smirk from trying to rise to her lips at the man's obvious discomfort around the topic of female periods. 

"Or, you tell me the truth." 

"The truth, sir?" Claire asked with a purposely confused tone. 

"Come on now, don't play dumb. John Bender put you up to it, right? Calling him in sick?" 

"No," Claire said naturally, shaking her head and continuing to ride the wave of fake confusion as she looked up at him. 

Vernon frowned hard, fists clenching against his crossed arms. He seemed to measure her reaction, jaw sliding back and forth as his eyes narrowed. After a long moment, he stood, coming to place a hand on either arm of the chair she was sitting on as he leaned in, "Alright, let me share this little bit of wisdom then," and he cleared his throat cockily and lowered his voice, "I know you called him in because I called his mother to double check. John wasn't with his father working and he wasn't at home. He wasn't at school, either. So that leaves two options...either he skipped school to go dick around with his no good, waste of space, bud-smoking buddies....or....he was with you, his pretty new girlfriend...who was also mysteriously called into school." 

Claire felt her whole body tense but she had to stop herself from screaming at the man. That's what John had meant when he said his dad was mad about "other stuff." Vernon had told them John skipped school! This whole thing was his fault!

All Claire could do though was continue to play it cool, if she said any of that Vernon would know without a doubt he was right about it all, "It wasn't mysterious. I had cramps. I forgot to take my medicine the night before and-" 

"Stop lying!" Vernon barked again, Claire jumping a little in her seat and looking at him with scared eyes. Vernon seemed to come back to himself then and backed up, exiting her space and moving to the other side of his desk, giving her room to breathe and relax. Claire felt her eyes watering, arms pulling her books to her chest, "I...I'm not lying. I swear. I...have bad cramps...I have to take medicine. I forgot...I did. It's just been so crazy at home-" 

"Why is that? Daddy doesn't like your new boyfriend?" Vernon asked, his tone dripping with distaste. Claire once again felt her fear and sheepishness slip away, anger boiling as yet another adult dismissed John as nothing but a waste of space. 

Claire stood sharply, the chair tipping behind her, "Why do you hate him so much!" she yelled. 

Vernon was quick to meet her, standing again and leaning over his desk, "Because he's a piece of shit!" 

"He's not a piece of shit! You are! You never gave him a chance! No one has ever given him a chance!" Claire slammed her books down on Vernon's desk as she met his eyes, not noticing his brow cock nor how his lips pursed with subtle consideration, "He's sweet and nice and gentle and caring and would do anything for his friends! He's loyal, smart, and funny! He's...he's more than what he looks like! He's not just a criminal! He just needs real friends! He needs stability! He needs us! He's our friend now! And we aren't going to let you, his parents, or anyone else hurt him anymore! Even if that means cutting class so he can get some rest away from his asshole dad!" 

She was panting now, glaring at the man before her like he was her arch-enemy. Claire had never really had a problem with Vernon before. Sure, she'd gotten in trouble for talking in class or had to sit through a boring lecture about cutting class to go shopping or passing notes. But the man mostly let her be and she never acted out or did anything that would give the man reason to notice her. Their relationship had always been that of a student and a teacher. Claire had been raised to respect authority and though Vernon was a jerk he was a figure of authority. He was an adult who was out of touch and she was a girl who had been living in her perfect little bubble. She wasn't the type to get in trouble with a man like him because she never had the severe type of behavioral issues other kids had. Kids like John. But at this moment, she could see why John always fought with him, could see why John didn't want to obey. For just a moment, she understood her boyfriend's rebellion. For the first time in her whole life, she felt powerful. 

"Thank you, Miss. Standish. That's all I needed to know." 

Claire was suddenly thrown off balance, her mask finally breaking when she realized what she said, worry washed across her face like a river breaking through a dam. Vernon reached for the phone and Claire put her hand on his, stopping him before he could lift it, "Please-" she whispered and Vernon looked up at her and stared, his face unmoving, "Please...I'll take full responsibility. It was my fault. It was my idea. I'll serve as many detentions as you want, you can suspend me. Everything was my idea. He just...needed a safe place. He needed to sleep...please...don't get him in any more trouble...it's not...it's not safe for him...Please, Mr. Vernon." 

The man seemed to deliberate, his eyes moving across her face with mild consideration. His hand slipped out from under hers and he leaned back in his chair, letting out a long slow sigh as he rubbed at his eyes. "Jesus Christ-" he whispered, "Do you know how long I've been waiting to get that punk ass dirt bag out of this school? Do you have any idea how big of a thorn in my side-" 

"He's been good this week-" Claire blurted, the girl desperate to try and stay the man's hand from calling John's parents. 

"What?" Vernon deadpanned. 

"Hasn't he!?" Claire urged. 

Vernon considered her comment, looking between the phone and her in thought, "He's gone to every class, he hasn't caused a scene or acted out. Not once." 

"That doesn't mean he won't." Vernon countered. 

"He talks to us now. When he gets mad or frustrated. We calm him down. We keep him focused on us, on the club-" 

"Oh right, this "Breakfast Club" of yours, yeah?" Vernon asked sarcastically. 

"I...yes." Claire agreed, her tone proud as she stood her ground. 

Vernon suddenly rose, crossing to an old silver filing cabinet near the door. Claire watched him go, wondering what he was doing. The man pulled out the top drawer and searched for a moment, finding what he wanted quickly. 

He then turned, looked at the paper, scanned it for a moment, and then handed it to her. She took it with curious fingers, glancing over the first line, "Dear Mr. Vernon-" 

"It's the paper Brian wrote last Saturday-" Claire said, looking back at him.

Vernon ran a hand over his mouth in thought before tucking it into his pocket, "Erh, sit, sit down, Miss. Standish, let's have a chat." he said calmly. Claire did as she was told, sitting down with the paper still in her hand. 

"Do you know why I asked you all to write that paper, Miss. Standish?" 

Claire shook her head and set the paper before her on the edge of Vernon's desk, a weird calm settling over her at the sound of his relaxed voice, "I asked you to write that paper so you could take stock of who you think you are. Soon enough you won't be in this school. And the real world out there isn't nearly as nice as it is in here, in this school. Knowing who you are now and who you want to be in the future before you have to face it, might just give you the edge you need. There are a lot of hills you will have to climb, even coming from a family like yours, Miss. Standish. For the rest of your life, there will be some sort of hill, and even if you climb them all, you may never really have the life you dreamed of. So I'll ask you this, between who you are now and where you see yourself in the future....is saving John Bender's ass the hill you want to die on?" 

The silence was tense, and Claire had to consider his words, swallowing in thought before she said softly, "A week before last Saturday I thought I was going to have a perfect life, filled with trips to Paris and expensive things. The best colleges would be available to me and I'd end up working at a job I love...I'd be happy...and nothing would ever ruin it. And I thought I would do anything to maintain that fantasy." Claire admitted. 

"And now?" Vernon pressed, his curiosity peaking. 

"Now...I just want to have real friends. Friends who care about me and take care of me. And I want to take care of them in return. I can live without Paris, I can't live without my friends...even John Bender...Sir. If you make that call...he might be taken away from us. I can always go to college later...I can always find a job, even if it's bussing tables...but I can't replace a person. Once they are gone...they are gone."

Vernon seemed to consider her words, something that felt oddly empowering, "I'll make you a deal, Miss. Standish. One deal." 

Claire nodded quickly, waiting for him to speak with constricted breaths, "If you and your little club can promise me John Bender will behave for the rest of this year and the next, I will let this slide." 

"Thank you, Mr-" he held up a hand and she stopped, "I need you to understand me, completely. This is a one-time deal. No oopsies, no mistakes, no accidents or misunderstandings...no fuck ups. If he puts one toe out of line if he cusses out a teacher, skips class, vandalizes anything...does anything to draw my eye....he's gone. And no amount of tears, or pleas, or...highly intelligent and rational conversations will save him from that phone call. Understand?" 

Claire nodded profusely, her eyes glistening as she gave a watery smile, "Stop that. Calm down, missy-" he murmured as he nonchalantly pulled a Kleenex from the box on his desk and handed it to her, his face once again showing discomfort at her tears. 

"I promise. We'll keep John in line, we'll be a good influence. I promise. I do." she held up her hand as if she was swearing on a bible. 

"Alright. Let me write you a slip, whose class are you going to?" he grumbled as he grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. 

"Mrs. Werther's, sir." 

He threw some chicken scratch down on the paper and then signed it before handing it to her with reluctance. 

Claire took the slip, collected her books, and headed to the door, stopping at the entrance and thinking for a moment before she turned back, "Sir?" Vernon looked up at her, sighing, "Yeah?" 

"That paper you wanted us to write?" 

"Yeah, what about it?" he asked with confusion on his tired face. 

"Well...once you explained it to me....it's...a good lesson. I'll remember it. Thank you." she turned then and left, leaving Vernon to plop back in his chair and grind his teeth thoughtfully as he stared at the ceiling. 

Page Break 

Allison was standing in the doorway of the girls' bathroom when Carl, the janitor, came up from the basement, with a spray bottle and some rags in his hand he whistled as he walked. He turned and headed towards the teacher's lounge and as soon as he cleared the way Allison gripped her hall pass tightly, running towards the slowly closing door with her arm outstretched. The toe of her shoe clipped the floor and she went down, sliding the short distance remaining and pressing the thick laminated card between the door and the frame, stopping it from closing. 

She stood quickly, her knee, hip, and right boob throbbing from the fall and skid but she didn't hesitate to slip through the door and quickly make her way down the stairs. She moved silently, listening for voices or signs of movement, and was ready to jump into whatever doorway was closest if someone appeared. As she walked Allison peeked through the glass windows in the doors, looking for the right room. She'd been down here only once before when one of the secretaries had asked her to carry a box down for them. 

The woman had led the way to the room and now Allison just had to remember which one. It should be at the end of the hall, and Allison, in all her sneaky, quiet, and Kleptomaniac glory didn't have any issues finding it after only a few minutes of searching. 

She smiled naughtily as she grabbed the handle and twisted, only to find it locked. Her smile instantly dropped as she gave it another firm shake before kicking it and letting out a frustrated blast of air. She sized the door up, pantomiming shouldering it only to decide quickly that she would not win against a metal door. Her brain moved fast, thinking of all the possible ways of gaining access, looking for vents, a spare key, or even a fire extinguisher she could bash the window with. However, her clever mind finally realized something, she was pressing her whole body to the door in an attempt to will it open when she noticed the hinges. 

A very pleased smile came to her face then, congratulating herself on how clever she could be. A few seconds of digging through her bag of everything was all she needed to pull out John's switchblade. She gave a wickedly happy glare at the hinges and clicked her tongue, "Mine now, bitch-" 

She used the thin edge of the blade to slowly work the three bolts loose, then used the knife to carefully pry the wrong side of the door open, catching it before it could fall and heaving to brace it against the frame. She slid in and went to the filing cabinet for students. It took less than a minute to find the B's and thirty seconds to locate John's file. She pulled it out, found his address, wrote it quickly on her palm, and put the file back. 

"We don't know the meaning of fear-" she sang softly as she closed the cabinet drawer, "we play every minute by ear-" she was back at the door sliding it carefully into place, "one for all and all for one-" she was aligning the hinges and sliding the bolts into place, "everybody's on the run-" she was turning to leave, "especially this time of year-" Carl was standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face chewing his gum like a cat who got the cream. 

"Spies like us, Paul McCartney, good song, surprised you know it, Reynolds." Allison jerked back, slamming into the door in shock. 

"Ah, caught you," Carl said with merry amusement, pointing at her with a smart finger. 

Allison opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, "Uh-uh, you know this area is off limits, so's them files. What you doing down here, better be good too 'cause I'm supposed to be on break right now." 

Allison's eyes darted around, looking for an excuse, trying to think of something, trying to think of what she could do or say to justify her presence, "Hey, you're Bender's friend right?" 

Allison looked back at him, her body moving uncomfortably under his gaze, Carl's cocky smile fading a little as he asked, "He alright? Wasn't in today, he normally comes to bust my balls around the end of 1st period. Good kid."

Finally, she had collected herself and managed to nod, "Yeah. He's my friend." her voice was quiet, her body screaming out how nervous and agitated she was, "He okay?" Carl asked again. 

"We...I...We don't know...that's why I needed this-" Allison held out her hand to him, showing Carl the address she scribbled on it. Carl looked at the writing, glanced up at her, and back down at her palm, "We didn't know his address, he wouldn't tell us, doesn't want us to come around near his dad...but...we have to...he needs us...I had...to get it." 

She was so anxious her eyes began to water, worried Carl might make her wash it off her hand, that he might take her to Vernon, that he might- 

"Okay. Well, just don't sneak down here again, and next time...maybe just ask. Say hi to 'ol Bendy Boy for me. Tell him Carl says, get outta here. 'Kay, creepy?" and he rustled her hair before turning and heading down the opposite way from the stairs. 

Allison's mouth slowly parted, staring after the man as if he'd just grown two heads before she rolled her eyes and turned, heading back the way she came, clutching her fist to her chest like it was the most precious jewel. 

She burst out of the door and ran right into Claire, who went sideways but Allison managed to grab hold and steady her, "Oh my god, you scared the crap out of me!" Claire gasped as she tried to catch her breath. Her books and some papers were scattered on the floor and Allison bent down to help collect them only to smile and say softly, "I got it." 

Claire stopped, looking at her, "Got what? His address?" Allison nodded and Claire dropped her books to throw her arms around Allison and give her the tightest hug, "Thank god for you, Al! Thank you so much!" Allison just gave her happy throaty giggle. 

"Am I interrupting?" The girls pulled apart to look up and see Brant Hill standing there staring down at them, "Don't mind me, seems like a sweet little moment. Hate to ruin it." 

"Then go away." Allison snapped but Claire put her hand on Allison's arm, "It's okay. Hello, Brant. Did you need something?" Claire asked cordially as she resumed picking up her stuff. Brant slowly knelt and started to help her, Allison stayed close to her friend and when she picked up Claire's pencil she held it like a knife, ready to stab the guy if he got weird. 

"Well, actually, I've been meaning to talk to you." 

"Yeah? About what?" Claire asked casually, accepting the books he handed her as the three stood. 

"Well, honestly, Becca's been worried about you. Says you've been blowing her off and haven't been helping at all with the new plans for senior prom." Claire maneuvered around him carefully, walking down the hall towards her class with Allison right next to her, their arms looped. 

"And from what I can see, she isn't wrong to feel that way," Brant said in a rather patronizing way. Claire rolled her eyes, "I've been working with John to get things sorted with the shop class and get the Mach Five ready-" Claire lied smoothly, "Plus, I've been busy." 

Brant moved to stand in front of them, the girls having to stop, "Yeah? With what? Hanging with your new friends?"  

Claire gave him a hard stare, "Not that it's any of your business, but yes." 

"Doing what? You weren't in school yesterday and neither was Bender, did you two shack up or something?" his tone was meant to be teasing, he was trying to seem uninterested, but both Claire and Allison could hear the cruelness of it, and could sense his disgust. 

"Like I said, it's none of your business what I do or who I do it with, but if you really want to know, I had my dad call me in because I wasn't feeling well. I had cramps. Forgot to take my medicine. It's happened before, you can ask Becca." 

"I did. And she said as much." Brant conceded. 

Claire once again tried to move around him, "So why are you so cheesed off?" she asked. 

Brant grabbed her upper arm, "Why? Maybe it's because you're shirking your responsibilities in the Activities Club, maybe it's because you're hanging out with a bunch of weirdos and losers, maybe it's because I don't like Bender and I think you can do better. Maybe I'm just looking out for your best interests." 

"And maybe you're a creepy perv who has no business telling Claire who she can and can't hang out with!" Allison snapped. 

Brant glared at her and leaned in, "Maybe you should shut up, twat muncher-" 

"Maybe, you should let go of her arm and get your ass to class-" The three turned to look back down the hall and Carl was standing there, a fist gripping the handle of his mop, the wheels of the bucket it was resting in shifting gently as he stared calmly at the young man before him. 

Brant studied the man a moment, his face turning from angry to calm instantly, "Right. Of course. Have a good day ladies." Brant let go of Claire's arm and the girls nodded their thanks to Carl who nodded back, his eyes moving to rest on Brant and watching him pointedly until the girls were safe in their classrooms. Brant scoffed at him and moved past going the opposite way, "Stupid shit scrubber." Brant murmured as he passed and Carl only shook his head and rolled his mop and bucket down the hall, "Rich boy mommy fucker-" he murmured before he began to whistle softly and go about his duties. 

PAGE BREAK 

Claire's foot bounced relentlessly as she watched the clock tick. The teacher droned on about the Civil War but she just couldn't stand it any longer. Five minutes until the last bell. Then she would be free. Becca had come to her at lunch and ripped her a new one for missing the Activities Club meeting last night but she hadn't been listening to her either. God, she hated this. Yes, she wanted to be in the Activities Club, yes, she wanted to help with prom, and yes she wanted to enjoy her last two years of school. Like a normal teenager. But right now, her boyfriend needed her, and her friends were counting on her for something much more important than some dumb school activities. She had priorities now that were more important than her old ones. Once this was over, she would try to make amends, try to explain to them all why she had been absent and ignoring her responsibilities. But until this was over and she knew John was safe she couldn't bring herself to care about anything else. 

The bell finally rang and Claire slammed her book shut, stuffed it in her bag, and was out of the class before anyone else. She ran to her locker, popped it open, shoved her school supplies and books in, grabbed her purse, coat, and keys, and slammed her locker shut, forgetting to lock it as she hurried away. 

She met Andy, Allison, and Brian by the front doors, the four talking quietly amongst themselves as they discussed whose car to take and how to get to his place as fast as possible. They were interrupted by Becca and two other girls, "Claire, sorry to bother-" and Becca smiled happily at her, Claire looked at her with confusion, not seeing any of her earlier anger and so she went on the alert. 

"Go ahead guys, I'll be right there-" Claire said and the other three reluctantly left to get into Andy's truck. 

"Right there? You're not dipping out on us again, are you? I thought we discussed this earlier." Becca's happy smile started to fade as her perfectly sculpted brows dipped. 

"Discussed what, earlier?" Claire asked, wishing the girl would hurry up and spit it out. She glanced at the clock on the wall above the lunchroom doors before looking back at Becca expectantly. 

"I talked to you at lunch, remember? We're having another meeting tonight, at my place. It's mandatory. You have to come." 

Claire winced, thinking back to the discussion from lunch, trying to remember it but knowing she hadn't been listening at all. 

"Oh, look, I have something really important I have to take care of first, I'll try to make it, you said seven, right?" 

"Six." Becca deadpanned, her eyes starting to burn holes into Claire's face as she crossed her arms and jutted a hip. 

"Right, sorry. Six. At your place. I'll try to get there as soon as I can. But I have to take care of something really important first. Okay? See you later." 

"Claire!" Becca snapped and Claire reluctantly turned back around, her eyes rolling as she ran her tongue across her teeth and folded her arms in annoyance, "Yeah?" 

"Look, we've been patient. We've humored this thing you have going with Bender. But the truth is, it's kind of gross. And now it's starting to become annoying and get in the way of your responsibilities. You've been running off with Clark and the looser brigade all week. You keep ditching us like this and we'll have to consider removing you from the Activities Club, or worse, brand you socially unacceptable." 

Claire had never heard how stupid Becca sounded before, she'd never noticed how utterly ridiculous the entitled elitism they all spewed was. Everything Becca said sounded like it was straight out of a bad B movie made for High Schools that teachers played to their students to warn against bullying. 

"Wow-" Claire murmured in a rather disillusioned way. 

"Yeah? Caught your attention, yet?" Becca asked, her voice much more confidant now as she looked at her nails. 

"You're all...kind of dumb." 

"Uh, what?" Becca asked in shock, "Do you hear yourself? Like, really listen to what you're saying? Remove me from the AC or worse, brand me "socially unacceptable"? Do you hear how stupid that sounds? You're like...a badly written villain." 

"Excuse me!?" 

"Look, I'm sorry you guys, but I don't have time for this. I promise I will try to make the meeting tonight. I want to be there. But I have to help John. I really gotta go." Claire turned and left, Becca screamed after her with irritating shrieks. 

Page break

You sure this is the right way?" Brian asked as he looked around nervously. They had parked Andy's truck less than a block from John's house and began to walk down the sidewalk. 

Allison gave a lethargic nod, "Yeah." 

"But how can you be sure? I mean, there's more than one Bender in the phone book." Brian said anxiously. 

Allison gave him a rather crafty look as she continued to plod along next to Andy, the sidewalk rough and uneven, "I snuck into the basement and checked the school files." 

Brian stared at her in shock as they walked closely together, "You broke into the school files?" 

Allison nodded and Andy laughed, "You support this behavior?" Brian challenged as he looked at Andy. 

"Get off your high horse. We needed Bender's address and like you said...there is more than one Bender in the phone book. I wasn't about to go knocking on doors."

Brian looked at Claire who put a steadying hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring look only for Brian to swallow, "You know he's going to murder us for showing up at his place right? We're about to cross some serious Bender boundaries." 

"Maybe so, but he should know better." Andy said, "He should have known we would come looking after the scene in the mall and that weird phone call to Claire." 

“Why? Nobody else would come looking for him!” Brian argued and Andy just rolled his eyes. 

Claire continued to let Brian and Andy bicker as they walked. The neighborhood around them was dirty and unloved, it screamed of poverty and drugs. An area that had given up and simply existed out of spite towards the gleaming city in the distance. 

She couldn't bring herself to imagine a young John running around and playing on these streets, though most likely he did. It was amazing he hadn't gotten kidnapped or shot and she huddled closer to Brian who looked at her in confusion before he smiled and gave up on his argument with Andy to comfort Claire, "We'll be fine. The legal ramifications of snooping through school files aside, Andy won't let anything happen to us." Claire nodded and the group of four continued down the desolate road. 

"How far?" Claire suddenly asked, noticing a small group of young men hanging out on a nearby porch and watching them walk down the street. 

"Right up here," Allison said and she pointed past two houses and Claire saw the edge of a dusty white house barely sticking out past a line of thick trees that divided the properties. 

The group as a whole slowed down, still walking but giving the distinct feeling of uncertainty. 

"Ya know, maybe we should head back," Brian said nervously. 

"Too late," Allison said as they came to the edge of the treeline and peered at the little white house. A window was cracked and held together with duct tape and while the yard was mowed it was slapdash at best, with tufts of missed grass sticking up haphazardly around the small front yard. 

The white picket fence that was only about hip high needed to be stripped and repainted as the peeling paint was starting to pool on the ground beneath it like a dusting of snow. 

The roof had moss growing on a small section and the front porch was crooked. While it didn't scream drug den or squat house it did look like it was held together more with blood, sweat, and tears than actual nails and screws. The large trees that hung over the top might have given off the air of a quaint cottage if the house itself didn't scream out how unloved it was. 

"I got a real bad feeling about this," Brian said. 

Andy swallowed, "I think you might be right. On second thought, maybe we should have called first." 

The group of four were at a loss of what to do so Brian gave Andy a gentle shove forward and the Jock looked at him with anger, “Well? Go on, Mr. Confidence. This was your idea.” Brian said nervously. 

Andy swallowed thickly and looked between the house and the small group several times before he let out a solid huff of air and squared his shoulders. 

“Alright, I will-” he started with mock bravery before turning to walk forward. But he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see Allison with a rather uneasy face, “Wait, do you hear it?” She asked softly. 

All four teenagers turned back to look at the house and suddenly a muffled shout came from inside, "Oh no-" Claire said with dread and they all seemed to freeze as the front door opened and John came stumbling out in nothing but a t-shirt and jeans. No boots or socks, no coat or gloves, and red staining his face. 

The screen door slammed up against the house and John tripped down the three stairs leading up to the porch and landed on his hands and knees, breathing heavily and coughing as his body shook. 

"Get your sorry ass back here Johnny!" And John let out a sharp yet throaty groan as he pushed himself up and looked over his shoulder back at the house. A large man came stomping out, in steel-toe boots, jeans, a white shirt, and a shabby work coat, "What did I tell you about cleaning up the fucking garage!" The man held a belt in his hand and whipped it hard against the post of the porch. 

"Shit!" John hissed as he ran, jumping the fence and stumbling again, a hand coming to his head as he swayed a little. He wiped blood from his nose and pressed a hand to his forehead. 

"Get your lazy ass back in here and clean up this fucking mess!" 

"It was an accident, asshole!" John yelled back, anger and tears lacing his voice 

"What did you just call me, you little shithead!" And his dad stomped down the stairs straight for him and John took several quick steps back slamming into a car next to the curb, chest heaving, "I'm sorry okay!? I'm sorry! Please, just stop-" 

"Not as sorry as you're gonna be, now get your ass back inside the house!" 

"Fuck….no no no no-"  he turned as if to run their way only to stop and stare at them in shock.

It was a deer in the headlights type of look, not sure if he was seeing them or if they were an illusion. He paled considerably, a soft "No-" leaving his lips as he stared at them. 

The sound of the gate jiggling sharply had John looking back at his dad who was trying to get the busted thing open but John didn’t wait and quickly turned and took off down the street away from the small group. 

"GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE, BOY!" The man called but John didn't stop running.

A female voice called out, "Did you get him?" 

"God shut up bitch, get back in the house!" And John's dad turned and headed back inside, "I ain't chasing him down again. Get me a beer, where's my fuckin' dinner." 

"Jesus Christ. Come on!" Andy said as he took off running down the sidewalk. 

They had gone unnoticed for the most part because they were right on the edge of the tree line that separated John's house from the one next door. The only reason John had noticed them was because he'd been by the street. 

As the group raced down the sidewalk Brian asked, "Did you see where he went?" 

"He turned left!" Allison said and as they reached the end of the block they all swung left and Claire pointed, "There!" A flash of white had just disappeared into a stand of trees on the other side of the train tracks and they crossed quickly. 

"There's a trail, come on!" Andy said as they fell into a single file line, the path through the overgrown woods was thin and much the same as an animal trail. 

They couldn't see John now due to how thick the dead undergrowth was, but they continued to follow the trail, hoping he hadn't veered off somewhere to lay down or hide. They ran for several minutes before they reached the other side, the trees coming to a stop and waist-high grasses and weeds stretching down towards a small river that rushed by. 

The group of four stopped, once again looking for signs of John and where he might have gone, "Over there-" Brian said. A stone bridge eroded and covered in vines, which looked creepy among the yellow grass and leafless trees, stood out like a fortress in the woods. In the spring and summer months, this place was probably beautiful.  The abandoned bridge probably looked quite picturesque amongst the greens of the trees and the wildflowers that grew. Right now though, with the gray sky, lifeless forest, and cold march air, it seemed forboding and isolated. 

They quickly made their way down the slope, Andy noticing and then following the obvious cut through the grasses John had left behind. 

When they reached the edge of the bridge Andy held a finger to his lips, urging them to be quiet as they inched along the stone wall. Claire looked up, noticing the bridge seemed much higher than this river dictated it needed to be and she wondered if the river used to be bigger. There was a small window in the stone, the glass dirty and smeared but as they passed each glanced in to see frantic movements with little detail as to what their friend was doing. When they reached the opposite corner Andy peered around to spy a busted gas lamp above a thick rough-cut wooden door that was hanging open. 

"Shit! Shit!" Came a hissed voice from within. 

Andy spoke softly, "Wait out here." 

"Shouldn't we all go?" Brian asked. 

"You want to deal with a pissed-off Bender?" Andy countered and Brian thought about that and then shook his head. 

"Didn't think so. Just wait here, don't crowd him." And Andy moved to the open doorway and saw John inside moving around the small space quickly. He had a duffle bag that he was filling with items. 

As Andy stepped into what appeared to be an old guard's quarters he realized that this was John's home away from home. There was a radio and a shelf of books as well as a record player and stacks of records. There were clothes, shoes, several coats, canned foods, a cooler, and a makeshift bed on the wooden cot built out of the wall. 

John had already shoved on a pair of ratty boots, and tossed a coat on as well, his body moving jerkily as he gave soft pants and distressed sounds. 

"John-" Andy called softly and the teen spun, slamming his back into the old wooden workbench which made the cubbies above shake. 

"Whoa, easy man, it's just me." Andy held up a hand, keeping his body relaxed, and stepped slowly forward. 

John was gasping for breath, most likely thinking his father had followed him. Upon seeing Andy he let out a haggard shudder of breath before he turned and went back to packing his bag, "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here! I told Claire not to come! I told you all to stay away!" John yelled at him from over his shoulder. 

"Was never gonna happen, you're our friend," Andy said softly. 

"Yeah, some friend I am, can't do anything, can't be anything... can't do anything right-" John smacked his head several times in quick succession, "Just an idiot-"  

"Stop that. What are you doing man-" Andy asked with a dark tone. 

"Packing." John hissed, reaching up and grabbing several cans of food quickly and shoving them into the duffle. 

"Packing? Why?" Andy asked. 

"Doesn't matter. Just gotta get away from here, away from him...I can't do it...I can't do it anymore….I'm...I'm fucking tired man." his voice cracked as he shook his head, not looking at Andy as his shoulders shook. 

"Hey, John….it's okay, man. Talk to me-" 

Suddenly John grabbed one of the cans of food off the shelf and chucked it through the tiny window, the old glass exploding out of it like a canon. 

"Fuck!" John screamed before he turned and grabbed an old brutalized lunch box from under the cot which he haphazardly stuffed into his duffle. He slung the bag onto his shoulder and then grabbed a thick canvas coat from one of the pegs by the door, putting it on over the thinner coat he was already wearing.

He shoved past Andy and out towards the rocky beach that sloped down towards the water, murmuring as he went, "Fucker took my boots, my new boots, damn it... can't have anything nice-"  

"Come on, man, you can't just take off." Andy tried as he followed John out. 

"The fuck I can't. I'm not staying with that psycho anymore! I refuse to be his fucking punching bag! I'm not his fucking punching bag!" John screamed and Andy took a step back, hands still up in an attempt to placate and soothe the raging young man before him. 

"I know dude. Come on, take a breath, try to calm down. Just...breath-" and John's face scrunched up, Andy seeing tears fall and John turned away from him instantly. He tossed the bag to the ground and grabbed his head and let out a string of curses, "Fuck, fuck, fuck Fuck FUCK!" And John grabbed up a rock and chucked it at the river. Andy tried approaching again, a hand making it to John's shoulder only for the older boy to yank away.

John looked at him, eyes ablaze with desperation and anguish, "What did I do!? What did I do wrong to deserve a dad like that? Huh? Can you answer that? I didn't ask to be born but he hates me for it!"

Andy cocked his head, "Come on man, you know I can't answer that. He's just a dick. And you got stuck with him. But that doesn't mean you should leave-"

John bit his bottom lip, letting out a strangled noise of frustration before looking back at the river and screaming at the churning liquid, "What did I do fucker! You hear me asshole!? What did I ever do to deserve your fucking spite!? WHAT DID I DO! GOD DAMN PUSSY ASS MOTHER FUCKING WIFE BEATING DRUNK ASS PIECE OF TRASH! I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU!" 

John's face was beet red, veins in his neck popping as spit flew from his lips and his voice echoed out under the bridge. Andy saw John's body move as if to run into the water, his mind realizing what that might mean, so he grabbed John by the shoulders to try and stop him.

"Get off me, man! I said get off!" John screamed. 

"No way, not until you calm down! I said calm down!" 

"Fuck you, mother fucking-" 

"John!" the older boy looked back towards the door to the shack, seeing Claire standing there with Brian and Allison. 

"God damn it, not her...damn it...she can't see me like this...not like this...please-" John whimpered against Andy's shoulder. 

The fight seemed to leave John then and Andy had to help him to his knees as he whispered, "I….fucking….hate him-" 

He sat on the ground with a disoriented plop, groaning angrily as he pressed a hand to his head and curled down on himself, "Hey man, you okay?" 

"Get the fuck away from me!" John bit, "Like hell I will. You're in bad shape. Let me help you." 

John's eyes closed tight, more tears sliding free as he groaned, "I'm...dizzy….man...I'm so...fucking-" John's head dropped to the ground, eyes barely open, and suddenly started to spasm. 

Andy moved then, coming to kneel next to John and rolling him onto his back. 

His nose was broken and there was a nasty gash on his forehead. Blood leaked from both and his bottom lip was swollen, but his eyes were open and he was suddenly gasping for air.  

"Jesus Christ….guys...guys! Come on, I need your help!" The group rushed over, Claire coming to kneel at his head and brush hair out of his eyes. 

"What the fuck is happening?" Andy asked as John continued to gasp and started to jerk and grip at his chest. 

"Panic attack," Allison said quickly, her eyes sizing him up in a split second and making the call. 

Brian quickly took an inhaler out of his pocket and handed it to Claire who raised John's head and pressed her knees underneath.  

She placed it to his lips and said quickly, "Try to breathe on three, come on sweetie, one...two...three-" and when she pressed the button John inhaled sharply as the inhaler forced open his lungs. 

She pulled it away from his mouth, handing it back to Brian before gently rubbing at his face, "Easy, breath, breath...in and out….in...out...in...out-" 

John had grabbed Andy's hand and was squeezing it hard, his other raising up over himself to grip at the back of Claire’s shirt. 

Over several minutes his breathing slowed, a single tear dropping from his eye as his face went red. 

"Don't be embarrassed." Allison stated, "I had one about three days ago. It's better to have people around than to try and deal with it on your own." 

"Yeah, I had one last month. It's way better to have people here." Brian agreed and John just grit his teeth as he shook his head. 

"Oh...uh...let's go. Come on, give him and Claire a moment." Allison said realizing John's embarrassment was not due to the panic attack but the fact he was about to cry, "Andy...come on...let's give them some privacy." The three walked away slowly, their heads continuing to check over their shoulders as they headed back towards the guard room, “Call us if you need anything." Andy shut the door behind them once they were all inside.

As soon as the door shut John let out a whimper and Claire smiled, "It's okay, John. I don't care. I won't think less of you." And after a moment his face screwed up, his teeth clenching as he rolled onto his front and started to cry. 

Claire sat next to him, her hand rubbing soothing circles onto his back as he continued to cry softly. After a moment she jerked back when he started to pound the sand with a fist, letting out rabid grunts and yells. 

Andy poked his head out from behind the door but Claire held up a hand, her own body shaking a little as she’d never had to deal with this type of situation before. She had witnessed teenage boys being stupid or getting into fights at school or at football games, she'd seen both Brian and Andy cry at school on Saturday, but she'd never seen John cry, it was both discomforting and in a weird way very endearing. Despite her inexperience, she was determined to be there for him. 

“John…John….JOHN!” She suddenly yelled and he stilled, still gasping for air but calming and she moved closer again, gently feathering her fingers through his long hair before saying softly, “It’s going to be okay.” 

“It’s never going to be okay…I….am never going to be okay. And…I can’t take it anymore, Cherry…I can’t…I can’t do this anymore….I feel crazy….insane…I feel…so angry!” and he hit the sand one more time with a fist before he simply laid there completely tired out. 

She continued to sit next to him, fingers feathering through his hair as he continued to catch his breath but didn’t move again. 

Eventually, she felt his body finally relax. Claire let out a puff of breath before she placed a hand on the back of his head, "I…don't want you to leave-” she managed out, tears in her eyes as her empathy screamed in shared pain. 

“I can't go back. I can't…I swore I'd do anything for you but don't ask me-” John started but Claire cut him off, “No, I'd never…could never…I wouldn't…won't. You're never going back there again.” She said sternly and he seemed to sag again into the cold sand and Claire sniffed and wiped at her nose, “Would you consider….staying with one of us for a few days? Please? We'll figure something out." 

He didn't say anything but after a moment his head gave a single nod and Claire felt her shoulders sink in relief, "Okay. Come on, let's get you out of here.." 

It took a few minutes for him to get up and Claire had to help him. He seemed utterly exhausted, out of it, and a little bit dizzy. 

Andy had poked his head out again and Claire had motioned for him to come over. Andy, Brian, and Allison joined them. Brian grabbed John's duffle bag, Andy took up residence at John's side and put the teen's arm over his shoulder to help steady him. Claire mimicked him on John's other side and Allison joined Brian, grabbing up one of his spare boots which had tumbled from the bag. 

“Hey Allison, get Andy’s keys-” Claire started and Andy shifted so she could reach into his jacket pocket, “Good idea-” he said to Claire before telling her to run ahead and bring the truck to the edge of the woods.

Allison took off at a surprising pace, leaving the remaining three to tend to John and get him up the steep hill and through the trees.

She was there with the truck waiting when they cleared the woods and they were careful on their return journey. Unsure if John’s dad would be looking for him, they drove six blocks over before turning to drive back up towards Shermer High. They all wanted to avoid John's house like the plague and no one complained about the extra time it took.

When they all loaded into Andy's truck, Claire watched John like a hawk. He leaned against her, his head resting on her shoulder. 

"You're so soft and warm, Cherry. I never get to have anything beautiful and somehow I landed you. I like how soft you are….how nice you are…you know you're just so wonderful." 

John sounded totally out of it and while his words made Claire blush and smile it also worried her. Because while John could be sweet at times, this sort of mushy gushy talk was not like him. 

Especially not in front of Brian and Andy. Her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror and met Andy's, his gaze was also concerned. Brian had turned around in the passenger seat and looked at John in a slow sort of shock. 

"He got hit in the head. Nothing he says from here on out leaves the group. He might not know what he's saying…or remember it tomorrow. Deal?" Allison suddenly barked and while no one spoke they all nodded. 

"We should take him to the hospital," Brian whispered. 

"No way," Andy said as he continued to glance between the road and the rearview mirror. Claire had pulled a handkerchief from her purse and was trying to carefully clean the narrow cut on his forehead. The bleeding had stopped but had left a dried trail behind. The swelling was going to be bad. 

"Maybe we should." Claire countered, "It isn't like any of us know how to deal with this. He could have swelling in his head, a concussion or something, right?" 

"If he does, you shouldn't let him sleep, Claire, try to keep him awake-" Andy said, his eyes once again meeting her's in the mirror. 

Claire nodded and tried to gently tap his cheek, "John, stay awake, come on sweetie, I need you to stay awake."

Andy debated before he shook his head, "Listen to me, alright? We take him to the hospital and we're all toast. Bender'd kill us. Besides….who do you think they'd believe? A few kids, or John's dad." 

There was another thick pause and silence before Brian said softly, "Yeah…but…I mean…look at his face! Claire's right, he could be seriously concussed. If there is swelling…he could die." 

"Hey, shut up. No one's dying, got it? We'll take him to my place. My folks are out visiting my grandma. They won't be home ‘til late. I'll sneak him into my room and then deal with his injuries. We can sort the rest out tomorrow." 

"What makes you think you can handle this? The man's got a cut on his forehead the size of the Grand Canyon." Brian said, not hesitating to challenge Andy at this moment. His concern for John overruling his normally neutral stance within the group. 

"My mom's a nurse. She's told me a lot of stories," 

"Stories don't teach you how to heal a man, dude-" Brian argued.

"I know, alright? But what other choice do we have? We take him to the hospital they will patch him up, then they will call his parents. If Bender doesn't admit what happened they send him back home, if he does admit it and they don't believe him they still send him back home! Either way, he's fucked. This is all I got, okay?" 

"Yeah? Well, what if they believe him, then what?" Brian countered.

Allison spoke this time and said sadly, "Then they rehome him, maybe change his school, where he lives, take him away from everything he knows and everyone he cares about, and...we don't get to see him again." Brian's mouth slowly closed, his counter suddenly null and void.

Claire looked at John, sniffing a little as she continued to try and keep him awake, "Maybe-" she started, biting her bottom lip and trying not to cry, "We should do what is best for John and not what is best for us. I'd rather him be alive somewhere else than die with us because we were too selfish to do what needed to be done."

No one said a word to that, the tension in the truck growing. Finally, Andy pulled over, parked the truck, and turned in his seat to look at her, "You're his girlfriend, you make the call. Where do we take him?" 

Claire looked at Andy, then to Allison, and then to Brian, the three looking sadly between her and John. Claire took a deep breath and was about to tell Andy to take them to the hospital when John raised a weak arm and said in a slurred voice, "If you take me two the ducking hospital I fucking kill all of you. I beend there. I dond that. I ain't going back intwo the swystem just so they can throw me back with my fucktard pawents and crush my soul again. Just...throw me in Andwy's cwoset, and give me some Tyleol, I be fine. I be qwuieet."

Once again the car was silent as the four looked at John, who held up a thumb of acceptance before it dropped and he nestled his face into the side of Claire's breast, "Mmm, titties." 

"You pig!" Claire said, giving the smirking teenager a very weak slap to the shoulder. 

The truck busted into laughter, Claire instantly rubbing the shoulder she's barely smacked lightly and apologizing, "Iss, okay, I am pig...oink-" John managed before he seemed to pass into sleep. 

"Hey, hey-" Andy said between laughs, "Keep that asshole awake, Jesus, Bender you nearly gave us all a heart attack," he said, turning around and putting the truck in drive. 

"Thusss, my job." John managed, reaching up a hand to grope Claire's boob, "Stop!" She hissed as she peeled his hand away and held it in her own, "I'm injwered." he whined. 

"Not enough. Just lay there and rest, but stay awake." Claire said hautly. 

Andy made the rounds, dropping off Brian, Allison, and then Claire at her car, which they had left at the school earlier. She helped Andy move John to the front seat so he could keep an eye on him as he drove home. Claire said her goodbyes before giving him a very careful and soft kiss, "Just get better, okay?" 

"Promise." John managed as Claire looked at Andy, "I'm supposed to go over to Becca's tonight. But I haven't decided if I'm going to go."

"I know there is a lot going on right now, but it wouldn't hurt to stop by. May get them off your back if you do."

Claire let out a soft sigh and nodded, "Yeah. You're right. Okay. Night." She turned to go but John held onto her hand and said softly, "You know how much I love you? Like this much!" and John held his other arm out to the side, "Love my sweet cherry cupcake." 

Claire just smiled at him, shaking her head and closing the door, "Uh-huh, sure you do." Claire mocked playfully, not putting much of anything into what John said to her right now. 

Andy just shook his head, "She's gonna make you eat that for breakfast for weeks dude, you better stop talking-" 

John rolled down the window awkwardly and yelled out, "I love my pretty princess!" 

"Take him home, Andy!" Claire called back from the garage door, "Maybe smack some sense back into him before he proposes to your mom...or worse!" 

Andy leaned out his window, "Will do!" 

John looked at Andy and smiled, his gums a little bloody as he said, "We're having a sleepover." 

"Jesus, dude. You're definitely concussed." 

 Page Break

Andy had managed to get John out of his truck and into his house without much incident. The sun was already down by this point and most people were in for the night. His eyes scanned the surrounding houses as he pushed  John in through the front door, just to make sure no one was peaking out at them. When he was sure no one had paid them any attention Andy closed the door. 

He turned to find John standing  on the threshold to the living room, hearing a long low whistle leave the boy's lips as he stared at all the heads adorning the walls, "Whoa, you're old man's killed a lot of Bambi's." 

Andy rolled his eyes, "Whatever man, come on. We need to get you squared away before they get back." Andy guided John through the house towards the back, steering him into his room which John managed to notice appeared more like a back den that had been converted for him. 

"Dang, big room," John murmured, stepping down the two carpeted steps and looking around. Andy closed and locked the pair of French doors that led into the space and began to put his stuff away—hanging up his coat and taking off his shoes. 

The entire time Andy was changing or putting stuff up he kept staring at Bender, the guy just standing in the center of the room and looking around. There were posters of high-profile athletes as well as bands, one lone poster of a beautiful woman in a bikini, and pictures of Andy with friends, family, and at wrestling meets. Newspaper clippings with Andy's last name were spotted here and there as well. There was a bed, a desk and of course, one whole side was filled with weight equipment. He had a TV and a decent-sized radio, a bookcase with books, magazines, and workout manuals too, trophies littered the space as well, one here, one there, a few on a small corner table, one on his nightstand. They didn't seem to really have a specific place and their haphazard placement felt more like a second thought than actual consideration. 

Andy walked over to his radio and turned it on, Air Supplies Lost in Love slid slowly through the air and John looked at him in surprise. The shorter boy rolled his eyes, "It's the radio, not me. Want me to change it?" 

"No. It's fine. My head hurts so anything louder and it'll probably explode." Andy snorted in amusement, "Right. Okay. Well, let's have a look." he was walking towards John with intent and John held up a hand looking away, "Nah, I'm good." 

"Bullshit, look, I get you're not used to having people care. But I do. And I think I can help you. My mom's a nurse and I've read some of her medical books. If you're willing to put up with the pain, I think I can stitch the cut on your forehead-" John eyed him sharply and Andy sighed, "Let me clean it at least. It could get infected, wouldn't want that ugly face of yours to fall off, right?" 

John's arm was still outstretched, but his dark eyes continued to stare at him before he reluctantly sneered and dropped his arm, "Fine. Whatever." 

"Okay. Just...wait here. Don't touch anything." And left the room leaving John to the easy listening that was currently swirling from his radio and headed for the main bathroom. He searched for everything he needed including his mother's professional first aid kit. He had to be careful and put it back exactly how he found it, but she shouldn't notice if one or two smaller items were missing. 

He also grabbed a large plastic cup of water, a clean washcloth, and some peroxide, as well as a small tube of Antiseptic. He returned to his room with arms laden full only to see Bender on the bed sleeping. He quickly dropped all the stuff he'd collected onto his desk before moving over to John and shaking him, "Hey, wake up! Come on man, you gotta stay awake!" John jerked up, looking around quickly before he let out the most disgruntled sigh and flopped back down, "I'm so tired." 

Andy sighed and nodded, "I know, but the blow to your head might have given you a concussion. If you fall asleep while you're concussed you might not wake up." 

John just gave a groggy hum of acknowledgment, "Wouldn't be a bad way to go." 

The morbid acceptance of his death made Andy wince so he tapped John's knee, "Come on man, up, sit on the edge of the bed. I got the stuff." Andy pulled the desk's chair closer to the edge of the bed, John reluctantly sat up and hissed as a hand came to his head, "Damn it." 

"Here, take these." Andy handed John some painkillers and the glass of water. John took them without question and nearly downed the water. He handed the cup back to Andy who set it aside before opening his mother's kit and pulling out an alcohol pad, "It's gonna burn, dude." 

"No shit," John said but the normal smart-ass fire wasn't in his words so Andy let it go. 

Andy began to clean the sizeable cut on John's forehead. It was narrow but long and deep. The skin on a person's forehead was thin but Andy couldn't see through to John's skull so he assumed it wasn't as deep as it could have been. John's fist tightened on his knees and Andy noticed the bump and faint bruising around it. 

He made a face but didn't say anything and as he carefully worked John spoke in a soft voice, "He...usually avoids my face...but...I stepped into it." 

Andy was surprised John was even talking about it, but he kept his expression as neutral as possible, "Leave it to you to step into a fist." 

"Wasn't a fist," John murmured. 

"What was it?" 

"That damn belt. The buckle caught me here-" and he pointed to the cut on his forehead, "The strap got me here and here-" and he pointed to his jaw and lip.  

Andy stopped working and looked from the cut to John's face, "Why step into it?" his curiosity pushing to ask though he knew better. 

"I...he...was going after Ma again. I just...I don't know why I waste my time...protecting her stupid pointless ass only to get a beating in her place. It's not worth it...she's...not worth it...never worth it. Why don't I ever learn-" That last comment was whispered to himself. 

Andy continued to study John's downturned face, "Stupid bitch is never worth it." John repeated to himself before he finally looked up at Andy and frowned, "You gonna do this bullshit, or what?" 

"Hmm? Oh, sorry...yeah." Andy returned to cleaning the wound and removing the dried blood as well. Once it was cleaned he put the antiseptic gel into the cut before pulling out two small butterfly strips and meeting John's eye, "Stitching is probably a bad idea. I could do it...but....if I fuck it up you'd have a pretty gnarly scar. I'll use these instead...but...I have to push the cut closed. Cool?" 

John looked at the strips and a gush of air came out his nose as he gave a nod, "Alright, try not to tense up or jerk away. I don't want to have to take more from Mom's kit." Andy leaned closer, their faces at a level of proximity most teenage boys would find highly uncomfortable. 

"You kiss me, I'll kill you," John warned though his tone was playful if not slightly stressed. 

"Not on your life, I'll save that for Claire." Andy said back, "Damn right, the girl kisses like a fucking porn star." John said. 

Andy hummed in surprise, saying in a rather casual manner, "I always wondered about that. Her lips are...kind of pouty." 

"You what?" John asked, his eyes glancing up at Andy though he didn't move his head, "Not like that, dude. I just mean...she looks kissable. But don't freak, she isn't my type. Claire feels more like a sister to me. But...you know guys. They talk. Half the wrestling team and most of the other jocks have said it about her and every other girl in school. Sometimes I hear shit." 

"Never join in, though, right?" John asked, though his tone was filled with doubt and a little distaste. 

Andy sighed, pausing a moment to regroup as he readjusted his fingers and pressed the wound closed, placing one butterfly strip carefully as he murmured, "Honestly, not really. I have a kid sister. It bothers me to think some asshole jocks might say that kind of shit about her one day. And my mom's pretty big into respecting women as a whole. So...I mean...I'll look...maybe check someone out...but...I mostly keep my thoughts to myself." 

"Well, aren't you a good little Prince Charming." John goaded but Andy could hear the satisfaction and mild respect in his voice. 

"Whatever. Like you're any better. You fucking faceplanted into Claire's boobs in the truck." 

John bristled a little and Andy placed the second strip, "Yeah, 'cause I was out of it and she's my girlfriend. I don't go plopping my face on random titties." 

"No? You shoved your face up her dress during detention." 

"That was different," John said, pulling back from Andy's hands and glaring at him, "Yeah? How so? You guys weren't dating then. So if you think about it, it's even worse."

John shook his head, "No. See, that's where you're wrong, that was a moment of chance. I didn't mean for it to happen. I was under the desk and she shifted her legs and I...I didn't mean to. I mean...yeah I went for it but...it wasn't me, it was my dick, and I-"

Andy stared at him quizically and John just rolled his eyes, "Shut the fuck up, dickhead, I already apologized to her about it. Promised I'd be hands-off unless she said otherwise." 

"Good, the first decent idea you've had in a while." 

"What's your problem?" John asked suddenly, standing and glaring down at him,  Andy met his eyes with annoyance. 

"One minute I think we're cool and the next you're riding my ass just like my old man. What the fuck is up?" 

Andy let out a hard sigh as he rubbed the back of his head, "I don't know. We...we are cool. You're my friend. I just...sometimes you just rub me the wrong way...I'm working on it." 

John just cocked his head, "Oh? You're working on it? Well, I'm tired of waiting. Are we friends or aren't we?" John challenged readily. 

Andy stood then, anger boiling in his stomach, "I just said we are, didn't I?" 

"Sure did, but you sure don't treat me like one." 

Andy turned and walked away, mostly because he was fighting the urge to punch John in the face and the dude had already taken too much damage there, "What do you call this? Think I just bring wayward assholes home and patch them up? Risk getting my ass chewed by my blowhard dad or my sister hearing this bullshit." 

"Fuck off, you ain't doing this shit for me. You're doing it for Claire and Smiles. They're the only ones who actually care about any of us in this group. You could give two shits if I fuck off tomorrow and Brian just goes along with what everyone else wants. Don't act like you want me here and don't act like you want to help me if you don't." 

Andy just stared at him, jaw set and eyes hard before he looked away and said nothing. 

John scoffed, "That's what I thought. See you later, Jockstrap. I'm out of here." John grabbed his coat and headed out the door, Andy standing in his room and thinking things through. He looked at the kit on his desk and saw the messed up bedding from where John had been lying. Did he really not like John? Would he really care less if John fucked off? It didn't feel that way, but he clearly had some unresolved issues with John. 

He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew John was right. Andy did have issues with him. He just wished he could resolve them. Because if they kept clashing heads Andy had a feeling the Breakfast Club would splinter. 

"Damn it." he hissed as he rolled his eyes and turned, rushing after John. He yanked open the front door, ready to get in his truck and chase the dickhead down only to stop at the sight of John sitting on the front steps of his house and smoking a cigarette. 

Andy breathed a sigh of relief as he slowly trudged out and set down next to John, not saying anything for a moment but rubbing his hands together to warm them as he tried to think of something to say. 

"I got nowhere to go," John whispered, smoke pouring out of bitter lips as he stared at the house across the street. It was dark now, only the yard lamps casting light as the windows up and down the street glowed warm. 

"Look....you're right...we have a problem. But I don't know what it is. I've tried to work it out, but it isn't coming loose. It's like a knot in my stomach sometimes, like...I want to say all these things to you...I want to tell you all the stuff I don't like about you. But, ah, that's not what friends are supposed to do. So...I sit on them. Sometimes they find their way out of my mouth before I can think better of it." Andy admitted, his eyes cutting holes into the pavement below them as John sat next to him quietly. 

"We're different, Sporto. Different lifestyles, different families, and beliefs. I, for one, think you should stop wearing those embarrassing Spanx you call a uniform and try a more manly sport." 

Andy scoffed, "Like you would know shit about sports. And this is exactly what I'm talking about. Do you even hear yourself? Right now I want to clobber you in the face." 

"Why the fuck does it matter, you told me you wished your leg would give, remember? Why stay in a sport you hate just to please your old man's sense of self-gratification? You get that right? Dude's living vicariously through you, like a god damned vampire." 

Andy nodded reluctantly, "Yeah, I know. And, honestly, I wouldn't care so much about that if he wasn't so obsessed with winning, ya know? I mean, In his mind, every win I have is a win he has, only he doesn't have to do the work or deal with all the training and...busted knees."

"So why fucking do it. You know he's a leech. Why keep feeding him your blood?" John asked as he took another drag. 

Andy thought about it a moment and he gave a rueful smile, "Truth?" 

"Yeah. Give it to me Sporto." John said. 

"Because I like competing. I enjoy Wrestling and I love Football. I just don't want the pressure of having to win all the time. I mean, what's the point if I'm already the best?  To defend some title I'll have to give up when I graduate? Besides, doing sports is good for me, helps me work towards my goal for when I graduate." 

"What's the goal?" John asked, for once keeping his sarcasm and snark to a minimum. 

Andy debated on telling him, only because he knew John would probably give him a hard time. In the end, though, he decided to risk it and said, "Either a Personal Trainer or...a doctor. My mom says it's a lot of work...a lot of school too. But if I can get a wrestling scholarship or something...then it might pay my way. Medical school is expensive...but...if it doesn't work out I'll fall back on being a Personal Trainer. There can be good money in that if you get the right clients..." Andy was picking at his palms as he spoke, not meeting John's eye. Though, he could feel John looking at him. 

"So...you're more like your mom," John said matter-of-factly and Andy gave a soft nod. 

"We were....well...when I was younger...mom and I were at the mall. And this lady, just walking by started to have contractions. She was pregnant, like really pregnant-" and Andy held out a hand in front of his stomach to show the size of the woman's belly. 

"Mom rushed over, set me down on the bench, and told me to stay there. I watched her, helping the lady to the floor, telling people to grab stuff yeah know? Like, bring water, grab towels, we'll pay for them later, call 911, and I mean, my mom's just a nurse...I don't even think she'd ever delivered a baby before but...the ambulance was taking forever and I just remember...how...calm she was. In total control of the situation, leading that woman through her breathing and prepping her for the baby....it was....phew....anyway...the baby started to come, and mom just...she just...shlup! Right out of her. Holding it and bringing life into the world...It was....really cool. Anyway, I was like...eight, maybe? That day I knew I wanted to do something with medicine or health when I grew up. I wanna be like her. I want to help people."

 Andy rolled that admittance around in his mouth, realizing only in this moment that all this time, he'd been aspiring to be like his mom and not like his dad. It was an interesting feeling that followed, his eyes watering a little as he ran a hand under his nose, "Shit-" he murmured, looking away and shaking off the chill that had settled over him from the cool March evening. 

"Nothing wrong with that," John said suddenly, putting his cigarette out on his boot and flicking it hard towards the street, just barely clearing the curb. 

The pair continued to sit in silence for a long while. The tension between them had eased considerably and as they sat outside in the dark, the cold night air prickling their faces and making them shiver Andy had a feeling Bender was working up the courage to say something. He kept shifting, looking at his hands, then the houses and then to Andy only to look away again. But the shorter boy was not going to speak now, because he knew, that if he was patient and gave John time to think, he might very well say what was on his mind. 

Finally, John said in a soft but tight voice, his face pointed to the sky and eyes closed, "I'm an immature, angry, and demented dickhead who gets incredibly jealous...very easily...over ungodly stupid things." 

Andy looked at him, waiting for him to continue, "I've...never had anything nice in my life. This shit I deal with daily with my old man...it's been going on for as long as I can remember. I've never had any real friends 'cause we moved a lot when I was younger...when we finally stopped moving we ended up in this shit hole. With a crappy house, crappy neighborhood, and nothing ever getting better-" John pulled out another cigarette and lit it, taking a deep drag before continuing, "So...when I see people with things I can't even dream of having...when I see people with happy families....good lives...nice things....I....get angry. I get angry, jealous, and petty because at the end of the day...I know I'll never have any of it. And Claire....fuck...don't get me started on her. She's....something. And for some reason....she's looking at me like I matter. It's hard not to...not to just take her and run. Try to protect this one fucking thing I got that feels...good. And sometimes...I want people to hurt as badly as I do...and I want people....to be as afraid of going home to their perfect lives as I am of going home to my shitty one. It's not right...but...sometimes...I can't help it. And...I want to matter to someone. I want someone to care about me....so when Claire...when she said....things to me....that made it seem like she could...that she might....it's going to be fucking hard to let her go." 

"Who says you gotta let her go?" Andy asked, noticing how indifferent John's face was as he smoked, how calm and matter-of-fact his voice was. It was as if he had resigned himself to the life he had so early on, he no longer cared if there was a way out. Andy didn't understand that complacency. But he also didn't understand why someone like him so quickly gained the respect of the others on Saturday. It ate at him. Everyone always looked to John, even Andy, though he hated to admit it. And now, hearing all of this...he didn't understand why all of them in the Breakfast Club looked to John as if he was a reasonable choice for a leader or even the voice of reason. He was a teenager just like them, and if anything, he was the most unstable. The least relateable and the toughest one to understand. Yet he held them all steadily with his words, with his very presence, and had drawn every one of them out of their shells. 

"Because Sporto-" Andy looked at him, being pulled harshly from his musings as John blew a smoke ring, "John Bender, doesn't get to have nice things." 

Andy clicked his tongue, "Bullshit. You want out of this shitty life you're living you gotta work for it. Make the changes you need to break away. I don't know. Get a job that will let you save up money to get the fuck out of here. Never talk to your folks again. Go to college or start a business or..." 

"I want to sell old cars." John said, his teeth pressing together as he blew smoke out between the tiny gaps, "I want to take old vintage cars and refurbish them. Maybe old bikes too. I'm...good at that. I can fix things....change things...make things better than they were. I'm good at building shit. Always have been." 

Andy's eyes narrowed in thought, considering John's words. That's when he realized what his problem was, and why he kept bumping heads with John. 

"I think I figured it out." he murmured and John looked at him, "Hum?" John questioned softly, placing a hand on his knee as he turned to look at him. 

"My problem with you. This thing that's been nagging at me this whole time." 

John wiggled his eyes, "Oh, enlighten us, please, the peanut gallery wants to know." 

Andy ground his teeth a moment, rubbing his hands together in thought, "Just...hear me out-" 

"The representative of Jock-town has the floor and is hereby recognized," John said, inclining his head and motioning with his hand to the sidewalk in front of them. Andy gave a soft smirk at John's antics, subtly shaking his head and glancing to the sky, hoping he wouldn't regret this and that it wouldn't cause another blowout between them. 

"Last Saturday, when we were in detention...that was the first time I'd really heard you speak. I'd seen you around school, heard how people talked about you, the things they said. And, uh, I believed them, ya know, because, why not? I didn't know you..." Andy let out a sigh as he kept his eyes on his hands, fingers still rubbing together and clenching on and off with nerves and the sad attempt to keep warm. 

"I walked in there ready to hate you, because everyone else had pretty much written you off as a burnout loser who'd rather start a fight than have a civil conversation. But then...as the day went on and I actually got to know you....to talk to you...yeah, you were fucked up but....you weren't anything like they said. You were a dick, standoffish, bullheaded, and stubborn....you were mean and nasty....but....the first time we almost got nailed by Vernon....when we were running around the school like fucking idiots....you were the first one to step up and take the fall. You took the blame for all of us...even though you didn't owe us anything. You shared your weed and didn't taunt or tease Allison...even though she would have been one of the easiest to pick apart. You weren't nice to Brian...but you didn't go out of your way to make him suffer....and I knew...from the moment I saw you looking at Claire and not me....that she was your public enemy number one. I could tell you wanted something from her...I assumed it was sex...but that wasn't it. You hated her more than any of us and tormented her the most but otherwise, you kept yourself at arm's length. Like out of all of us, she was the one who would burn you the most if you got too close. You didn't soften yourself at all to try and win her over even though you were attracted to her. Not until after we all smoked. Not until you ripped her apart and made her cry. And then you did that thing-"

"What thing?" John huffed softly, his eyes borderline angry, "...you picked us all apart, in one way or another.... challenged me physically, pulled Brian and Allison out of their heads and let them speak....you were the harshest to Claire...but since then I've seen the biggest change in her. It ate at me....that you weren't exactly what I expected you to be. It bothered me and made me angry that most of the shit my friends told me about you...wasn't true. It made me question how they saw me...how they treated me....what they thought of me. If they could make up all that shit about you....say all those horrible things about someone they didn't even know....what the hell would they say about me behind my back to someone else. They made you sound like a monster. But you weren't. I want to be a leader, I want to help people, I want to make life better for others....but...I was so ready to dismiss you...turn my back on you...hate you just like they did without even trying to get to know you." 

Andy braved a glance at John, his face was curiously calm, a brow raised as he held the smoke between swollen lips, one brow at its peak while the other furrowed deep, a face considering his words heavily, "And after all that....all these thoughts on who I want to be... versus who I thought I was...realizing I was a hypocrite against myself...I'm not mad at you John...and I don't hate you. I'm mad at myself...I hate myself....because when it comes down to my friends bullying others, saying bad stuff about the girls in school....acting like entitled pricks...I never said or did anything about it. I just let it go and kept my mouth shut. I'm not the leader I want to be....you are...and you don't even have to try....so I guess....what it comes down to...is...I'm....jealous. Of you. Because you say what's true no matter what anyone thinks of you. Everyone listens...we listen to you. And every time you comment or cut one of us down...call us on our bullshit...it kills us...because...we know you're right. I know...you fucking right."

Andy felt a tear fall from his eye, unaware that as he spoke his voice had been wavering and his eyes had been glistening. He instantly swiped at it, turned away from John, and cleared his throat several times, shaking his head in embarrassment, "Sorry man, got a little weird there for a moment, I'm good." Andy said awkwardly, still not looking at the boy next to him. 

"It's nice, right?" John asked. 

"Uh...what?" Andy said, feeling the heat in his cheeks as he tried to shake off the emotions he was having. 

"Sharing the raw shit and not getting reamed for it." 

Andy still couldn't look at him, he wasn't crying but his face was still red, he nodded quickly, didn't trust his voice not to crack so he didn't speak. 

A hand slapped his back hard and Andy nearly fell over, "How about some pizza. You got those fancy frozen ones? Claire has these frozen ones that when you cook them they taste like they are straight out of a real pizza place." and Andy felt John stand, he finally turned to look at him and nodded, "Uh yeah, I think so. Garbodeli's?" 

"Fuck yes! Let's go, Andy, serve that shit up!" 

Andy stopped as John entered the house, realizing that was the first time John had ever used his real name without an ounce of derision. 

Page Break 

Claire lay on her bed staring at the ceiling with anxiety resting firmly on her brow. She had followed Andy's advice and shown up to Becca's house to try and mend some bridges and follow through on her promises. She was ready to get an ear full, ready to placate, and try to do what she needed to make them understand the situation without giving them too much information. 

However, what she thought was supposed to be a meeting of the Activities Club was not at all. As she pulled into Becca's drive she saw a few cars, one was Becca's and another was Leah Anne's. But the third took her a moment to recognize. She figured between Becca and Leah Anne's cars they could get most of the girls in the AC there. But one car was missing, Duncan always drove the guys over and his car was absent. The third car was expensive and a dark brown, with silver trim and- 

Brant's here...

She sat in her car debating on what to do, she didn't trust Becca to have her back if Brant tried anything weird. Usually when the meetings were at Becca's her parents went out to dinner so the AC could have the living room and be as noisy as they wanted. But she had a feeling, after seeing Brant's car this had less to do with the AC and more to do with whatever Brant's agenda was. 

Claire went from mad to scared to mad in that order several times as she tried to decide if she should turn around and go home and go inside and tear Becca's head off. Thankfully the girl had noticed her car through one of the front windows and had come out. 

As Becca approached Claire got out of her car and slammed her down, "What the hell is Brant doing here? He's not normally part of the Activities Club meetings. He's on the council now." 

Becca gave a toothy yet apologetic grin, "Yeah, sorry, he just showed up. He wants to speak with you. I said it was cool only because I figured he was kind of pissed you blew him off at school today." 

"I...Did I blow him off? Because that's not how I remember it. The asshole grabbed my arm and got up in my face about some stupid bullshit that's none of his business. He's bad news and I don't want anything to do with him. And I sure as hell am not going to be left alone with him." Claire fumed as she crossed her arms and jutted her hip. 

Jeeessuuuus, Claire-" Becca whined with annoyance, "Just go talk to him. If you do he'll probably leave you alone. He's just worried about you. So am I. We thought it would be a good idea if-" 

"Excuse me, did you just say "we" as in, you two planned this? What happened to 'he just showed up.'  God, I can't believe you! I don't know what he's got on you, or why you're pushing so hard for me to give that sleezeball a chance but it stops right now. I have a message for you to tell Brant. John and I are officially dating, we are involved,  I don't want to date him, I don't want anything to do with him. It's never going to happen. There are 150 other girls in our school and any number of them will drop their panties bow to his whims or let him marry into their family. But I am not one of them. I'm out of here." Claire got in her car, Becca protesting and latching onto her door, yanking it open and saying, "Claire, if you leave without talking to him it's going to be very bad for you. I promise you!" Becca growled. 

"He's just some kid. He's not an adult. He's not God. And he's not my type. All he wants is to get into my pants. He's a controlling, abusive prick and I have no interest in him. I'll talk to you tomorrow at school. Later." Claire yanked her door shut and floored it out of the driveway, stopping on the road to shift her car into drive only to see Brant standing in the entryway of the house with arms crossed and eyes glaring. She drove off, speeding home and going straight to her room when she got there. 

Her father had been MIA since she had yelled at him and for once she was grateful to have the house to herself. Now, as she lay on her bed and try to wrap her mind around all this crap piling up around her, Claire realized she could add another hill to her list that she would willingly die on. No matter what, she was never going to be with Brant Hill. 

Page Break 

Andy had a hand over his mouth, trying to be as quiet as possible. His parents had come home a couple of hours ago and had gone to bed not long after. He'd successfully hidden John under his bed until his parents had checked over his homework and they'd all eaten dinner. John had devoured the pizza Andy had made so he was thankfully not hungry by the time Andy got back to his room 

Now that the house was quiet and everyone was asleep Andy was in his bed laying on his back, John on the floor next to him with a pillow and blanket, the pair snickering ridiculously as they shared whispered conversations. 

"No dude, no...seriously, I have to ask, I gotta-" Andy whispered, clearing his throat and trying to get his smile under control. 

"What?" John asked, the long-haired youth bringing a hand up to rub at his tired eyes, "Why were you so hard on Claire? I mean, everyone noticed it, even Brian. You had teeth bared from the moment she set foot in the library. Why her? I thought for sure you'd come after me, but I mean...you were pretty nasty to her." 

John sighed, his hand dropping to the floor as he looked at the ceiling, "Because I wanted her, just like every other brain-dead limp dick nut sack at our school does. And I didn't want to want her. I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me, just like she gets to every other guy she walks by. I....didn't want to be a guy she just considered. I wanted to be the guy. And I was mad at her for it. Because I knew I never would be. Well...at the time anyway." 

Andy nodded, "Makes sense." 

"No, it doesn't. And some days I am still mad about it. But then she smiles at me....and I just stop being mad. No one's ever been able to just...make the angry go away...not like she can." 

"Guess you're gonna have to marry her then." Andy said and John scoffed, "Get out of here with that bullshit, man." he grabbed his pillow out from under his head and tagged Andy in the face with it before he laid back down with a huff. 

"When can I fuck off and go to sleep?" John asked grumpily, turning onto his side away from Andy. 

"I don't know. I remember reading something in Mom's med books about not sleeping for a certain amount of time after head trauma but I can't remember what is it. We can check it with a flashlight if you want. But, I'm kind of surprised you were so out of it from a belt buckle. I mean, the cut is nasty but it couldn't have been a blunt force blow-" 

"It wasn't that bad a hit. The belt buckle just tore the skin, it was the door that made me so loopy." John groused. 

"The door?" 

"Yeah, after he got me with the belt he shoved me aside to get to Ma and my head bounced off a door. But I feel fine, not loopy anymore. Totally coherent. So can I sleep or what?" 

Andy sighed, "Fine. But if you die it's not my fault. We need to be up early so we can get you out of the house before Mom and Dad get up."

"Fine, whatever, night." 

"Night." 

The pair lay in silence, the room dark save for the soft glow of Andy's neon clock. Nothing had gone wrong yet, and hopefully, this theme of good luck would continue into the morning. 

Chapter Text

Brian Johnson stood in the shower as the hot water poured over his head and wet his blonde curls. A hand ran over his face as he tried to wake up and get his thoughts in order. 

His memories of the previous night were both a blur and as sharp as a knife. Part of him still could not believe the brutality, but part of him believed it so wholeheartedly that it scared him. A fog of stress still lingered in his mind as he tried to escape the reality of the situation. But no matter what he did, he could hear John screaming into the woods and throwing rocks at the river. Crying with rage and hurt. Brian had never seen someone’s face turn that shade of red before. He remembers the feeling of his heart beating so fast, like a hand pushing against his rib cage over and over, his stomach so twisted in knots from fear he thought he might get sick.  

Brian remembered thinking about what John might do. He was so scared of the older teens' anger turning on them that it was all he could do not to run away. Brian’s desire for self-preservation had been honed over the years by his attempts to escape the bullies that lined the halls. While he felt guilty that his first thoughts had been about himself, when it was clear John was in pain, there was some kind of spell broken inside of him. 

Seeing John Bender in so much pain and misery, seeing how scared he had been, how small he had looked without his layers of clothing, how not intimidating he was, something inside of Brian had shifted hard. It had made him wonder how many other bullies in their school acted like dicks out of their own need for control or because they, too, were bullied at home. 

Brian was under no illusion that John couldn’t still whoop his ass hard, but seeing him cry…seeing the blood….the bruising….that John’s father had caused… put things into a different perspective for the tall, skinny academic. He squeezed the much-used bar of soap a little too hard and felt it mold to the shape of his hand. 

Looking down at it, his eyes narrowed in thought; a month ago, I wouldn’t have been able to do that….but with enough use…with enough of the layers removed…with enough time and water and scrubbing….it can’t hold its form anymore- 

John was like the soap bar, Brian thought with pity. John seemed solid and formidable when they first met in detention. You wouldn’t want to mess with him because he could break you apart. However, the longer John went on as he was, dealing with what he did daily, the more he seemed to shrink and become malleable to the world around him. 

Once the shock had worn off, once Brian had come to terms with the fact that it had all happened, that one of his friends had been hurt so badly, and by his father, no less, Brian had come down from someplace that hadn’t even seemed real; like experiencing the come down after an adrenaline rush that was so potent he thought he might be high. 

His world felt different somehow, no longer sheltered or safe. The real world was calling, and it wasn’t full of jerks and bullies; it was filled with people who could do some severe damage, and the resulting mental state from that damage was….brutal. 

He finished in the shower, his usually quick and succinct motions slower today, his tall but narrow body shining white in the bathroom mirror. He looked at himself, with dark circles under his eyes, pale skin with no muscle, and a frame that looked like it might come apart if he so much as stepped wrong. He ate regularly and hardly exercised, yet he couldn’t put on weight. The doctor his mother took him to had said something about a hyperactive metabolism. It might slow down when he got older, but right now, all Brian could do was eat as healthy as possible, take extra protein, and try to work his muscles more. 

His mother didn’t like that; she was raising the next big genius, not some thick-skulled bodybuilder. But Brian had heard what the Doctor said, so when Andy offered to teach him to lift, Brian went to the store and bought some protein powder, excited to try again to change this slim, weak body into something better. 

Now, though, as he looked at himself and knew that John Bender wasn’t much bigger than him, Brian couldn’t understand how John was seen as someone to be terrified of while Brian was just another loser nerd. 

John was taller, with broader shoulders, more muscles, and a wide waist, but seeing him in just a T-shirt and jeans was enough for Brian to realize the dude was actually scrawny. 

Like a pitbull that hasn’t been fed in a long time, he is scrappy and hungry but needs to fight to survive for food, shelter, and anything else he has. He’s scrawny, but in a way that says he would have been bigger if he had lived a normal life…. 

If John could take a beating like that and still intimidate people….maybe Brian wouldn’t have to be stuck like this forever. Perhaps he didn’t have to become a huge, massive, muscled guy; he just needed to present himself differently. 

Brian finished combing his hair before getting dressed, mulling over yesterday’s events again and thinking of how he could help. His mind switched from his body to what John would do now. He stayed with Andy last night, but Andy couldn’t keep Bender permanently. No matter how sneaky he was, eventually, his parents would figure it out. 

Claire’s place wasn’t going to work since her dad was home now, which left Allison. She might get away with it if it was true that her parents ignored her. But Brian doubted even her parents wouldn’t notice a new person living at their house. 

That left Brian, and there was no way in hell he could sneak anything past his mom. She was a stickler. That fact he had been able to hang out as much as he did this last week with the Breakfast Club had been a miracle. She hadn’t found out he’d skipped Physics Club or the Mathletes yet, but he was sure she would find out eventually. 

Until then, Brian would ride out these new friendships until his mother forced his head back into his books. He grabbed his bag and went downstairs, sitting at the table with a huff as he stared at the bowl of cereal and a side of toast before him. 

His mother was bustling about the kitchen preparing his father’s breakfast while simultaneously trying to get his little sister to eat something. She tossed singular Cheerios onto the table before moving them around with tiny fingers. 

Brian stared at the floating circles in his bowl and sighed. His mom set the remaining two plates on the table, filled with bacon, eggs, and more toast, before sliding Brian a smaller plate with his bacon on it. 

“Thanks,” he murmured, and she glanced at him, “You okay?” she suddenly asked, reaching across the table to place a hand on his forehead, “No temperature, why are you so mopey?” and he looked up at her, watching as his mother started to clean up the mess his sister had made, no yelling or swearing, no belt or threats and Brian just watched. 

His dad came down a moment later, running late but making time to sit with them and scarf down his meal, “H-Howard…slow….hey, Slow down! I know you’re late, but this isn’t an eatin’ contest.” Brian looked between his parents, his mother glaring at the man and his father, who looked at her sheepishly before he slowed down. He was still in a hurry, but he took his time chewing and got a few sips of coffee. 

Brian recalled detention last Saturday when the kids asked about his home life and what it was like. Brian had the most typical family. His biggest concerns were keeping his grades perfect and always staying above average or below—A+ and nothing else. A failing grade wasn’t allowed. And he had been grounded before for getting a B. His mother had nearly crucified him when he’d failed shop. But in the grand scheme of things, the stresses of his life almost felt regular compared to the others. 

Yet, he had wanted to kill himself for failing shop class, presenting to his family that F had been so unbearable Brian thought he might enter into a state of psychosis. And the talking-to he had received for bringing a Flare gun to school had nearly sent his mother into a depressive spiral. 

Don’t we take care of you!? Don’t we give you enough attention? Christ, Brian! I know we are hard on you, but that’s no excuse to even think about taking your own life! What were you thinking!? Harold, I want him in counseling; I want my baby fixed! I don’t care how much it costs! We need to have him looked at! He isn’t well! He’s stressed! 

Well, maybe if you didn’t ride him so hard about his grades- 

Don’t blame me! You push him to perform, too! He’s capable! He can make the grades! This isn’t about the grades! Something else is bothering him! My baby would never run away from his problems! 

How do you know!? Have you ever just asked him what’s wrong!?” 

Don’t take that tone with me, Harold! 

It had been the first time Brian had ever heard his parents fight, and it had been about him. Brian had been outside their bedroom door, holding his sister as she napped, listening to them raise voices at each other. Brian, knowing he had been the cause of this, felt horrible. 

Brian looked at his family, taking them in, his house, the table….

“I got to go. Love you, honey,” he kissed his wife. “See you, pumpkin,” he kissed his daughter. “Get the grades,” he said to Brian with a thumbs up before grabbing his briefcase and heading for the garage door. “Dad!” Brian called out, and the man turned and looked at him. “What’s up, bud?” 

Brian looked between his mother and sister and then at the food on the table before he looked at his dad and said softly, “I just…wanted to…thanks for taking care of us…and for…being a good dad...and…treating us…and mom…so well–” 

His father cocked his head at that, looking from Brian to his wife before back at his son and nodding, “It’s my honor.” he saluted his son and was out the door. 

Brian smirked and looked back down at his food, his mother leaning closer over the table, “Hey, you doin’ okay kiddo?” Brian looked at his mom and sighed, “I…yeah…I’m fine…just…realized how lucky I am to have you and dad as my parents….some kids….they aren’t so lucky.” 

His mother studied his face for a long moment, and Brian wondered if she would let it go or question him further. 

She chose the latter, “What kids?” a singular brow raised smoothly. 

Brian shook his head softly. “No one, nothing. Sorry. I guess I'm still sleepy.” He faked a yawn, rubbing his eyes and looking down at his breakfast. 

She only studied him a minute longer before finally letting it go, “Well, all things considered, we’re fortunate you’re our son. Even if you do stupid stuff sometimes.” he looked back at her, her face sharp, yet she spared him a subtle wink. 

Brian smiled and nodded, “Thanks.” he started to eat, only to stop when his sister began to cry, “Oh, no honey, it’s okay…I’m starting to think she’s got digestive problems…come here, baby…come to mommy. Brian, when you’re done before you leave…will you throw that box of Christmas ornaments up in the attic…I would have your father do it, but he ran late again. Thanks-” She picked up the crying girl and left her breakfast uneaten. Brian rolled his eyes but nodded as she walked away. 

After breakfast, he checked the clock and knew he needed to get ready so his mom would have enough time to drop him off at school before taking his sister to daycare, but he wouldn’t ignore his mother’s request. Despite her calm demeanor this morning, she could still be a little shrill if Brian didn’t follow through, so he pulled down the ladder in the garage to carry the small box of Christmas junk up to the attic. 

He popped his head up and slid the box onto the floor, looking around momentarily before stopping. His eyes scanned the area as an excellent bad idea popped into his head. 

Page Break 

Andy had stopped at McDonald's on his way to school, throwing the food bag at John and handing him a large black coffee. 

John stared at him momentarily, “Where’s yours?” he asked, and Andy shook his head as they pulled out of the drive-thru, “Protein bar and shake in my bag, but I didn't have a chance to grab anything for you. Eat up; we’re not far from the school.” 

John just shrugged and dug in. “Thanks,” he murmured, wincing a little as the hot coffee burned the healing cut on his lip. 

As they drove, Andy took a long breath and asked softly, “What will you say if someone asks about your face?” 

John froze, looking much the same as a statue, with a breakfast sandwich hanging from his mouth, before he slowly turned to look at him, “Hmph?” he asked with confusion, finally finishing the bite he’d started as he stared at his friend. 

“I said–”

“I know what you said, Jockstrap,” John replied as he carefully wiped some grease from his mouth and chewed. “Well? What are you going to tell them?” 

“Who?” John asked. 

Andy glanced between him and the road, seemingly just as confused by John’s statement as John was about his question.

“I don’t know, people?” 

“What people?” John asked with frustration. 

“The people who are going to ask about your face! Jesus!” Andy barked as he shook his head, propped an elbow up on the door, and pressed a fist to his temple to lean on. 

John scoffed as he took another large bite and chewed swiftly, wiping his mouth on his coat sleeve, “You mistake me, sir, for a person people care about. No one is going to notice or care.” 

Andy looked at him, “I… we care. The Breakfast Club cares. What makes you think others won’t?” 

John’s head rolled lazily in his direction, unamused eyes lingering on his face, and Andy shifted uncomfortably as he glanced at him only to look back to the road, “Dude, don’t.” John said, his tone indicating boredom as he shook his head, “No one cares. Sure, you guys do, for whatever reason, because of this whole…friend thing we suddenly got going on–” Andy shot him a warning glance, and John held up a hand in acceptance, “Which I appreciate and enjoy–” the admittance chilling Andy’s stink eye considerably.  

John sat up straight again, his head plopping back onto the headrest as he said in a rather monotone voice, “But you know damn well no one else at the school cares about what goes on with anyone else. I mean, sure, regarding the gossip mill, you could argue everyone is super concerned .” John pressed his hands to his cheeks in faux concern and said the last part in a high-pitched voice, mimicking the insincere tone that most of the A-list girls used, “But at the end of the day, me walking in there with a busted face isn’t going to trigger any red lights or make the masses worry for my safety.” 

His pantomiming and irreverent behavior made Andy roll his eyes, “What if it’s a teacher?” Andy asked, and John waved a hand, “Pfft, they won’t. They’ll assume I did something stupid, maybe got in a fight over drugs. Recently, there has been a pretty solid rumor I’m on crack. The teacher’s really like that one. It’s an easy escape route for them to explain why they can’t control me and get me to listen. Oh, Bender’s on crack; that’s why he’s such a hard-to-handle student. Didn’t you know? He’s a crack baby !” 

It was Andy’s turn to raspberry, and he challenged John’s claim, “Yeah right, what teacher would ever–” 

“It doesn’t matter who started it. I heard ‘em talking about it.” John barked, crossing his arms now that his sandwich was gone and thumping back in his seat. 

“Yeah? When?” 

“When I snuck into the Teacher’s Lounge to steal some of Mr. Quinton’s hash brownies.” 

Andy fell silent, his head slowly turning to look at John as he stopped at a red light, “Mr. Quinton…” he trailed off as John slowly nodded his head with crazed eyes and a wickedly amused smile, “Swear to God, dude. I smelled it on him; the shit he eats is potent too . I always wondered how he smiled so much, given his job and life are shit…dude usually takes a bite of one of his “special brownies” right after lunch and then just….burrrrrrrr, cruises through the rest of the day high as a fuckin’ kite. ” 

The light turned green, and Andy accelerated, his mind churning over the information John had just given him. The story seemed too insane to be a lie because Andy had also smelled Mr. Quinton’s funky breath. Now that John had pointed it out, he realized he recognized the smell. 

“Fuck me–” Andy murmured, the teacher’s usual afternoon daze making so much more sense now. 

John just chuckled before he looked back out the window; several seconds of silence passed between them before the young man said softly, “It doesn’t matter anyway. Even if one of the teachers were concerned about me, I wouldn’t tell them the truth.” 

Andy glanced at him before asking in a calm voice, “Why?” 

John didn’t say anything at first, but eventually, he offered, “Dude, I been in the system. Not for a long time or nothing, but…I’d rather have my dad kick my sorry ass every night than ever go back into that hellhole.” 

The Jock’s mouth opened to say something, but before he could, Andy slammed on the breaks, John letting out a swear as they were cut off hard by a brown and silver car. John’s coffee lurched from his grasp to smash against the window as he braced his hands on the dash. Andy cranked the wheel to avoid skipping the curb. He was able to straighten out the truck as he pulled off to the side of the road and came to a stop. 

His knuckles were white on the wheel, and he stared at the car speeding off. John yelled out the window angrily, “Watch where you’re going, grandma!” 

Andy’s eyes were trained on the retreating car, heading down the same road as them towards the school. His mind instantly knew who the vehicle belonged to. 

John also watched the car speed off for a few seconds before he turned to look at Andy, and the amused smile on his face faded. “What’s up? Have you never had a close call before?” he asked, gently smacking Andy’s shoulder.

Andy didn’t meet his friend's eyes. He was still breathing heavily as his heart nearly pounded through his chest, and he said, “That was Brant’s car.” 

John looked from Andy to back out the front window, the car long gone, but the older boy suddenly realized why Andy was so tense, “That shit stain is now at the top of my would-kill list.” John murmured. 

“We need to get to school.” Andy suddenly said, seemingly breaking from his frozen and shocked state as he put the truck in drive, signaled, and pulled back onto the main road. 

“What? Why?” John asked, glancing at the time and realizing they would arrive early.

“Because, dipshit, the girls are there waiting for us.” John swallowed, realizing what Andy was worried about, and said, “Drive through the yellow, don’t stop! Go, fuckwad, go!” 

Page Break 

Claire sat with Allison on the school's front steps, holding coffees the redhead had picked up on her way in. 

“So, he was waiting at Becca's to talk to you?” Allison asked after a sip of her drink, and Claire nodded, “Yeah. I ended up telling Becca off and left.” 

“Creeper,” Allison murmured as she subtly lipped the lid of her coffee to take another drink. 

“Yeah.” Claire managed softly before actively shivering from the cool morning air, her eyes falling on Brian, whose mother had just pulled up. Claire gently nudged Allison before nodding in Brian's direction. 

As Brian walked towards them, the two girls waved softly at his mother, who slowly cruised by with a suspicious look. Brian's sister mimicked her mother's look of suspicious consternation before she slowly pulled from the curb and drove off. 

Claire and Allison slowly cracked up, the look of the woman and her child duplicate being just a little too much for the exhausted teens. Their chuckling faded as they looked for Andy's truck in the parking lot. 

Brian approached and sat beside them, Allison holding a white paper coffee cup. Claire took it without looking away and handed it to Brian, who said, “Oh, I don't drink coffee.” 

“It's hot chocolate,” Claire said, finally glancing at him. Brian stared at her in surprise before he smiled and said, “Thanks.” 

He took a drink only to make a face and nearly spit it out, mumbling “HoT!” through sputtering coffee-covered lips. 

The girls lost it, laughing loudly as Claire leaned over and tried to wipe the mess from his jacket before it stained.

“Jesus, Brian, I said hot chocolate!” Claire giggled as Allison watched with amused eyes. She dug a few napkins out of her bag to help mop up the mess. 

“I figured it'd be cooled off by now. How long have you been here?” He murmured as he joined in trying to clean his khakis off. 

“Not long, but you seriously need to be careful–” 

Allison cleared her throat hard, Claire looking at her before following the girl's intense eyes out to the parking lot and locking her gaze onto a brown and silver car, “Shit.” Claire whispered. 

Brian was still trying to clean himself up but noticed the girls had gone quiet. He looked at them before following their gaze out to the parking lot. 

He also stilled, seeing the faintest outline of someone in the driver's seat staring right at them.

“Brant….right?” Brian asked nervously. 

“Mh-hm,” Claire managed softly, and Brian waited next to the girls, just as tense as the person inside emerged. 

Brant got out, and two of his dickish friends got out as well. Brant's eyes never left the group as he adjusted his coat and headed their way. 

His two friends fell in behind him as he approached the steps. 

Claire took Allison's hand, and the brunette squeezed it back tightly. Once they were on the sidewalk, Claire's mouth dropped, and eyes went wide as Brian stood and came to move between the guys and his friends. A rather ardent fire had been inside him since he came down from yesterday's shocked high. 

It was true he wasn’t much of a threat, but he could be just as annoying as John Bender, and in this situation, he was the only thing standing between these three jerks and his two friends. If there were ever a reason to get the crap kicked out of him, it would be to protect Claire and Allison. 

“What do you want, Brant?” Brian asked. 

“Out of my way dweeb.” He said, shoving Brian aside, but Brian managed to hold his footing and shoulder Brant back. Brant had to stop, grab Brian by his coat, and pull him close. “Out. Of. My. Way.” 

“Over my dead body,” Brian managed, though his hands were shaking, and he had to swallow the spit building in his mouth from the sudden urge to throw up. 

Brant gave a nasty look as he hissed softly, “That's not a problem, freak–”

Claire stood instantly, her hand coming to Brant's chest, and she said quickly, “Brant, stop! I'll talk to you; just let him go.” 

“No way, Claire, he’s a dick!” Brian snapped, his hands grabbing the fist gripping his coat, “Just go inside.”

“Brian, stop–” Claire tried, but Brant gave a somewhat worrisome grunt, “I don't know, Claire, I kind of like the idea of breaking his face in–” Brant raised a fist, but Claire gripped his hand between hers and said gently, “Brant…” 

His unhinged face of amusement faded as he looked away from Brian and at Claire, the weird expression of excitement and anger leaving as he looked at her, “Please–” Claire whispered. 

He studied her face, and his fisted hand lessened. Claire was able to slide her hand into his. “Let him go, " she said, moving in just a little closer as she softened her voice further. 

She noticed how Brant swallowed softly, his dark eyes jumping all over her face in subtlety before landing on her lips, which Claire softly bit as she tried to smile at him affectionately. 

It was hard to manage, but Claire did, squeezing his hand gently as Brant let Brian go and leaned closer, his lips coming next to her ear as he whispered, “How’d you learn to be so incredibly good at manipulation? Daddy a pushover?” 

Claire felt her gut seize as she swallowed and pulled back from him, dropping his hand and staring at him with a somewhat concerned gaze. “That's okay; it's hot. You can manipulate me anytime.” He smiled at her with a rather proud expression, which made Claire feel even sicker. 

Brant took her hand and led her up the stairs towards the school when Claire was stopped by feminine fingers grabbing her other hand. She turned to see Allison with a worried face and bit out, “Don't.” 

“Allison, it'll be fine–” 

“Don't. Go.” Allison urged each word ground out through clenched teeth, her chocolate eyes nearly begging the girl to stop. 

Claire looked between Allison and Brian, the blonde boy tense but now standing between Allison and the other two guys Brant had with him. 

“Tell you’re two jerky friends to leave Brian and Allison alone,” Claire said, looking at Brant expectantly. Brant made an exasperated face before he ran his tongue on the inside of his cheek and seemed to decide it wasn’t worth the fight. “Xander, Matt, come on, leave the freaky bitch and nerdy runt alone.” The two guys, whom Claire knew from the Activities Club, went wide, skirting Brian and Allison, glaring as they did, one of them blowing Allison a sarcastic kiss as he went. 

She grabbed the switchblade from her pocket and flicked it open, giving a short jab toward him, making the boy jerk away and trip on the step. He fell and landed next to Brant, who rolled his eyes and sighed, “Serves you right for flirting with a crazy bitch. Now come on.” Brant turned and continued walking, pulling Claire along behind. 

She turned to look back at her friends as she walked and mouthed out quietly, “Get John and Andy.”

Just as they entered the school, Allison noticed a few more cars pull in and a school bus in the distance. "Should we go after them? Get a teacher? Maybe Vernon?” Brian asked, his heart hammering in his chest. 

“I will. You wait for John and Andy. I’ll figure out where they are taking her and then come get you,” Allison said as she started to head for the school’s entrance. 

Brian grabbed her arm, and she looked at him, “Let me go.”

“What? No way—” she tried to pull away, but Brian held firm. “Al!” She stopped fighting and looked at him. “You need to let me go.” 

“Why?” She asked angrily. 

Brian didn't seem to want to say, but after a second, he met her eyes and said softly, “Because the worst thing they could do to me is beat me up…” 

Allison stared at him for a long moment, digesting his words and realizing what he was implying. She nodded, her eyes watering a little, “Alright, go! Go! And don’t let them catch you following!” 

Brian nodded and quickly climbed the steps, Allison watching him go before heading to the parking lot to hopefully flag down Bender and Andy. 

PAGE BREAK 

Claire walked next to Brant silently, glad for the empty halls. She didn’t want anyone to see her walking with Brant. While she had been reluctant to be seen with John at first, she quickly got over it when she realized it included getting to kiss him repeatedly and often. Something about John made her indifferent to staring eyes. Feeling his lips against hers as his hands touched her so gently had propelled her so readily into being seen with him and officially dating him. 

It was crazy, she knew, but she felt safe with him, and she trusted him. It hadn’t taken very long, but to be fair, John had proven himself early. He’d been an abusive twat monkey on Saturday, but every day that followed had been something incredible. 

John had been opening up with all of them, sharing more and more of himself, and after last night, with his father having broken him so severely, Claire had a feeling they were still only just getting to know him. All five of them were still getting to know each other, and Claire knew there were still secrets. But she’d never felt this connected to anyone, not even her brother. There was something different about the Breakfast Club; she was determined not to lose them.

The fact that Allison had tried to stop her from leaving with Brant, that Brian had tried to be a shield and protect her and Allison in turn, had made Claire realize that real friends, it didn’t matter if they were physically strong or not, they would fight for you, they would try all they could to protect you, damn the consequences. Claire wanted to be just as selfless; she wanted to be someone who would protect Allison, stand up for Brian, and defend John and Andy…she wanted to be better. 

No matter what Brant said or what he threatened or tried to convince her of, Claire was going to hold firm; she had to because if she didn’t…then she could never be like her friends. 

She knew exactly what was about to happen because she’d seen it firsthand. Both Becca and Brant had been trying to scare her back in line, and this would be her last chance to rejoin the A-listers. She would become fair game for teasing and ridicule if she didn't conform. Claire knew how it worked: three strikes and you were out. If you changed too much, if you didn’t stick to the status quo, if you became too much of an other…you became a target. 

Brant led her through the school and into the theatre, where the Activities Club usually held their weekly meetings when the seniors were involved. It was dark, save for a few lights on the stage and the floor strips. The group of four remained quiet until they got onto the stage, at which point Brant offered her a chair. 

“I’m alright,” Claire responded politely, and Brant just shrugged, “Suit yourself. Look, I’m not trying to be a creepy jerk. And believe me when I say I don’t honestly give a shit if you’re doing it with him or not… if you’ve slept with one guy or five. I’m not a unicorn hunter, and I haven’t been bugging you all of the sudden because I have some twisted idea in my head that you and I are anything but classmates.”

Claire stared at him quizzically as she said in a rather dismissive tone, “Could have fooled me.”  

Brant gave an expression of understanding, his arms crossing as he looked down at the ground before glancing up at her with a charming smile, “I’d like to be your friend. You may not have given me much thought, but I’ve been aware of you since Freshman year. And we have chatted in passing; don’t act like it’s been radio silent.”

“Sure, okay, when I’ve had to turn in plans for the activities club or go over plans for a dance or something. But I mean, we’re not friends; you’re a Junior. Juniors don’t associate with Sophomores; it’s just a fact.” Claire countered, waiting for Brant to drop the hammer or whatever he had been planning on doing the last few times she had ditched out on talking to him. 

“Not always. Look, I think we just got off to the wrong start. Can we speak in private?” he asked sincerely. Though Claire did not want to be alone with him, she gave a soft nod and waited as Brant told his friends to take off. 

The two guys waved to Claire casually as if they hadn’t just been mocking her friends and ready to fight them. She’d almost forgotten these guys were classmates and not paid goons. She waved back faintly, recalling she’d done several different AC projects with them before they were elected to sit on the student chair. They weren’t friends per se, but she knew them better than she knew Brant, and it made her a little sad to see them turn into such jerks. 

Once they had left the theatre, Brant grabbed two chairs and set them center stage before he took a seat and motioned for her to join him, scooching her chair a little further away from his as she said, “You know the bell is going to ring in, like, ten minutes right?” 

Brant waved her comment away, “This won’t take long. Just relax, I’ll speak my piece, and then you can leave.” 

Claire sighed softly before motioning for him to continue, and Brant smiled and cleared his throat, “Alright. Well, let’s start with an apology. I am sorry I was so rough with you the other day. I didn’t intend for my actions to come off as threatening. It was from a place of concern, but I realized it must have seemed pretty scary to be grabbed like that.” 

“Good thing Carl was there,” Claire said softly, and Brant’s brow raised a little though his face remained inviting. Still, Claire could tell it was most definitely not relaxed. 

“Right. You know his name…cute. Look, Becca and everyone are concerned you are taking this thing with Bender too far. When most people slum it, it’s for a day, maybe two if the sex is good, but you’ve been hanging off Bender like a bitch looking for blow, and people are starting to talk.” 

Claire steeled herself against that. The instant Brant said the rumor mill was starting to churn, she felt her anxiety spike, but she simply fisted her hands in her lap and met his gaze. “So?” 

“You still have two more years of school left. Are you sure you want to be relegated to the bottom of the pile?” 

“I’m not worried about that,” Claire said casually, looking at her nails and trying to play off her anxiety and remain calm and in control.  

“You kinda should. I mean, you know how brutal it is being a loser…and you don’t really want people spreading rumors that you’re banging the burnout, do you?” 

Claire rolled her eyes, “John and I haven’t banged; don’t be gross, and even if we had, it’s none of your business.” 

Brant studied her for a long moment before asking in confusion, “Then why are you hanging out with him? If you’re slumming it, but you aren’t actually–” 

“Stop calling it that. I’m not slumming it. I genuinely like John. Why is everyone so caught up in this? It’s literally none of their business.” 

“Well, it kind of is. You’ve been blowing off the AC, you’ve bailed on your other friends, cut school, and from what I can tell, he’s been a pretty bad influence on Clark, too.” 

“On Andy? I mean, come on, it’s Andy. He’s like the most perfect guy in school.” Claire said with amusement. 

“Sure, he’s a boy scout, whatever; he’s also been skipping practice; he turned on his friends in the locker room the other day–” 

“That’s not fair, I heard what happened, they were bullying Brian–” 

“Yeah. And Andy told them to stop,” Brant countered as if that was the wrong part, not because they nearly choked out Brian.

“God, what is it with you guys? Why is it so hard to just be nice to people? Just because they’re different doesn’t mean you need to be jerks to them. Brian is really smart and sweet. He doesn’t bother them; why do they need to pick on him or his other friends?” 

Brant leaned back in his seat, arms still crossed, as he studied her with hard eyes. Claire finally glanced up from her nails to look at him. “What?” she asked with a little more attitude than intended. 

“I just don’t get how someone as perfect as you could stand to be seen with them.” 

Claire’s jaw was tight, her anger boiling as Brant insulted her friends. “I’m not perfect either, you know. And for your information, they’re all pretty cool.” 

“You could be…perfect, I mean–” Brant said, a finger rising to his lips in thought as he continued to study her, “Look, can you just tell me what this is really about? The bells gonna ring, and I don’t want to be late to class.” 

She gave every ounce of herself to the disinterested gossip girl she used to be, with a sharp attitude, harsh indifference, and cold eye. She could still play the part even if she were tired of it, sliding into the mold that was now too small for her but willing to wear it long enough to make it through this conversation. 

“Alright, let’s cut to the chase. I have it on good authority that I am going to be crowned prom king this year,” Brant said thoughtfully, studying her reaction as Claire finally looked at him with interest and said, “Okay? And?” 

“Well, being a sophomore, you don’t get to attend prom until next year…unless an upperclassman asks you to go with them.” 

“So?” Claire asked, not entirely sure she knew where this was going. 

“Well, I was thinking of asking you to go with me…and if you do…I also have it on good authority that you’d be a shoo-in for prom queen.” Claire stared at him, her hand falling to her lap. 

“You’d have the opportunity to not only be the first Sophmore ever to win Prom Queen in Shermer High, but you’d have two more years to win it again.” 

Claire continued to stare at him, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him with suspicion. “That also means your chances of being one of the head chairs of the Student Council would be pretty much set. No vying for position with the others. You would essentially be…above it all.”

Claire felt her hands fist in her lap, her heart fluttering at the idea, but she wasn’t fooled and asked softly, “What’s the catch?” 

Brant looked at her pointedly and said, “Do you really need to ask? You know the price.”  

“John,” Claire whispered. 

Brant nodded, “Yeah, and the nerd and creepy goth chick, too. Andy’s fine, but the other three, gotta cut ‘em loose.” 

Claire looked away and said softly, “I can’t believe this is happening…you’re bribing me.”

Brant drummed his hands on the front edge of his seat, “Pretty much. Everything you want, just chuck out the trash.” 

“And if I don’t?” Claire challenged angrily. 

“Say goodbye to little Miss Popular. Not gonna lie; I know a lot of people at this school who would love to make you just as miserable as you’ve made them…and I think ‘slut’ would be the least of your worries. Claire Bender-over has become pretty popular lately.” 

Claire stood up abruptly, “Pig!” 

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, Claire. I’ve been trying to tell you all week that the rumor mill is already churning. You don’t have to feel bad about bailing. Do you think Andy is going to hang around?” Brant said as he came to stand in front of her. 

Claire looked at him as Brant continued, “He’s gonna get hassled, too; we both know that. Do you think he’ll stick it out with the moody little slut once he realizes he might get cut from the wrestling team because he skipped training to hang out with her?” 

Her hand whipped through the air so fast she didn't even realize what she’d done until the resounding smack echoed around her. But she didn’t apologize, instead sticking her finger into his face and barking, “Allison isn’t a slut! And Andy wouldn't abandon her just to stay on the wrestling team!” 

Brant’s head had snapped back to look at her as he said sharply, “No? Because wrestling is his ride to college. Do you think his folks can pay for that shit? He may be an a-lister jock, but he isn’t rich like you. In fact, no one is as rich as you. Do you really think he’d give up a full ride for a girl like her?” 

Claire’s eyes began to water, her anger sizzling out a little as she realized Brant had a point; no matter how much Andy cared for Allison, even if he loved her, expecting him to risk a full ride to college for her was asking a lot. 

“As for you and Bender, how long do you think you can get away with seeing him before your folks ship you off to a different school just to get you away from him.” 

Claire turned from him, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“No? Becca told me all about it. You’ve talked about it like it’s some distant possibility, like a stray thought of something that might occur. But Becca told me…your grandma went…so did your mother…and your aunt–” 

“Shut up!” Claire yelled, turning to face him as her hands fisted, “They would have shipped you off freshman year if you hadn’t talked them out of it…you’d be there right now…and you would never have even met Bender. But you didn’t want to go–” 

“I said shut up–” Claire growled between clenched teeth. 

“Let me give you a sample of what’s waiting for you if you don’t stop being so difficult…what was it, Becca said. You didn’t want to go because you didn’t want to be alone anymore? Well, what do you think will happen if you keep pushing their buttons with this Bender bullshit? I know my folks would send my sister to Antarctica if it meant keeping her away from a guy like him.” 

Claire felt her anger swelling, and her emotions swung wildly in her chest. A tear fell as she stood her ground, “That won’t happen…” 

“Ah yes, I’ve seen those doe eyes you use on your dad; they’re pretty powerful. But those pretty little love-me eyes won’t work on Daddy if he thinks you’re letting a crackhead fuck you.” 

“John’s not a crackhead, and you don’t know shit about what I can do,” Claire said morosely, her rage settling into her chest and thickening her skin as she prepared to tear Brant apart. 

“When will you get it through your head that you aren’t normal? You’re an elite, just like me, and just like Becca, you’re only playing at being a regular kid.” 

“Bullshit.” Claire spit. 

Brant smirked, “Stubborn too, alright, fine. I can keep this up all day. You’re always alone, right? Weeks without seeing anyone…in that big fancy house…Mom in Europe at the spa, Dad in New York with his precious stocks that don’t talk back… credit cards at your disposal. And you stay above it all; you watch the world around you. You were raised to be an object, a pretty little doll that Mommy and Daddy are proud of. Not really a person, just an accessory for them to dress up and shuffle around.” 

Claire shoved him hard, and Brant laughed, “Oh, there is that temper; Becca told me about that, too. So angry…but you hide it so well. And here you are, with all this money and all this privilege, you could go to any school you want, right? But you chose to go here. Why?” 

Claire swallowed thickly, and Brant winked, “You want to be normal, but you can’t be. So you do what you do best: blend in, be invisible in plain sight. No one can touch you, but everyone can see you. A beautiful doll, protected in her glass case. Want to hear my favorite secret? It’ll be all over the school by the end of the week…Becca told me this the other night when you refused to come in and talk to me at her place…you’re parents don’t care about your existence except to use you to spite each other….shipping you off to boarding school wouldn’t mean shit to them,” Brant taunted. 

She stood there, arms wrapped around herself, her head shaking back and forth as she tried to calm herself down, tried to talk herself out of lunging at him and scratching his eyes out of his ugly face, “You think I’m getting under your skin now? You’ve told Becca a lot, more than you should have; she knows your secrets, Claire. You piss her off enough; your whole damn life will be on display.” 

“Why are you doing this?!” Claire asked, tears lacing her voice, and Brant cocked his head to the side as he said, “What do you mean, why? These are the consequences of your actions. You don’t want to be one of us; you get to be one of them. And they don’t get to remain above it all. Are you sure you won’t want to accept my offer? Seems like a pretty good one to me, all things considered. Prom queen, head of student council, no more nasty little rumors. Becca and I can kill them all right now.” 

“So I sell out my friends for a crown? Why would I be friends with people who think so little of me? That I can just be bought and used…I am a human being, not a piece of candy you can just chew up and spit out when you’re tired of your newest flavor of the week!” Claire barked. 

She noticed how Brant stilled at that comment, his head turning subtly to the side as he eyed her suspiciously. 

Claire felt her spine straighten, a hand coming to her mouth as she stepped back. Brant licked his lips, smiling at her in a way that made Claire nervous. 

“My flavor of the week?” Brant’s voice sounded incredulous, and he asked, “Claire…do you know something I don’t?” 

Claire instantly looked away and shook her head, remaining silent as Brant approached her slowly, “Okay…then whatever you don’t know, you keep to yourself. Got it?” Brant snapped, stepping into her space and looking down at her with sharp, heated eyes. 

She could only nod, her heart pounding as she mentally kicked herself for being stupid. Bringing up Brant’s track record of abuse against the girls of the school was really stupid, but he’d been poking at her, and she had a temper, just like he’d said. Still, Claire had wanted to tell someone, had tried to call him out for his abuses…but to do that…well…a week ago…it would have been unthinkable. 

“You shut up about shit you don’t know about, alright?” he grabbed her face and forced her to look up at him. Claire’s hands gripped his wrists as he looked at her, “I’ve been trying to be patient with you because you are under a lot of stress right now. But my patience only goes so far when some bitch threatens to talk about false accusations for some shit that didn’t happen, got it!?” 

It was like slow motion. Claire saw Brant’s eyes flick down to her lips, and for a split second, it looked like he might try to force a kiss on her, but just as the idea crossed his mind, the hand on her face was ripped away. 

Claire felt Allison beside her and saw Brian standing by the doors, watching as John bulldozed Brant off his feet and got him pinned to the stage floor. 

“I’m going to break your fucking face–” John hissed, only for Claire to see Andy jump up onto the stage and pull John off, “No, you’re not; it’s what he wants, just an excuse to get you kicked out of school!” Andy yelled, which helped John calm down, but he was still trying to get to Brant, who was stumbling to his feet. 

He wiped at his split lip and pressed his now messy hair out of his face as he looked at Claire and snarled, “Look at that shit! Some boyfriend you got, Claire! He’s a fucking psycho!” 

“That’s right!” Allison snapped, and Brant looked at her, “We all are; remember that when you try to touch Claire again. If John doesn’t cut you, one of us will.”

Brant gave the brunette a sardonic smile, “Congrats, Claire, you’re officially one of them. Enjoy the accolades. Starting tomorrow, you’re just another piece of shit.” 

The older teen turned to leave, but Claire called after him softly, her voice shaky but firm, and he turned back to look at her, “You tell Vernon John hit you, and I tell Vernon what you did to Sarah.” 

That gave Brant pause. His eyes narrowed dangerously, and his lip raised in disgust. The older teen raised a hand in defeat as he turned to go and signaled his understanding. They both had ammunition, so at the moment, neither could move to hurt the other. 

The group waited for Brant to exit the theatre, and as soon as the door shut, Claire collapsed to the floor, her body thoroughly shaking now as she gasped out a sharp, “Oh my god–” 

Not even a second later, John was in front of her, gently raising her face to look at him, eyes jumping all around and looking for bruises or other injuries, “I’m fine.” Claire whispered, tears falling as she tried to catch her breath. 

John pulled her into a hug, Allison rubbing soothing circles on her back as John said, “You ever do something that fucking stupid again, I’ll ground you myself, make you clean my dirty underwear or something–” that got Claire laughing through her tears as Andy crouched down next to the three, glancing at Brian who motioned it was still clear outside the theatre. 

“Hey—” his hand gently moved some hair away from her eyes. Claire looked at Andy, who shook his head in disbelief before saying, “That took some major guts. I’m proud of you.” 

Allison nodded in agreement, “Me too.” 

Claire wiped her eyes and nodded, “It was worth it. I don’t need them…when I have all of you.” A hand gently cupped her face, and she turned to look at John, who said softly, “You gave me a stiffy when you smacked that fucker.” 

Her eyes bulged when she said with a look of horror, “You are so gro–” but she didn’t get to finish as John kissed her sharply, his tongue sliding into her mouth, and Andy instantly stood, “Gross, dude. Save it for the closet.” 

Allison walked over to him and wrapped her arms around Andy as she said, “Let ‘em be gross.” She gave Andy a soft kiss before the pair joined hands and headed towards Brian, who was still on the lookout. As the bell rang, the three left the theatre, leaving John and Claire to kiss on the stage.  

PAGE BREAK 

John had never felt such terror and such relief in his life. He was used to being scared, worried, or anxious, but being terrified was a new emotion he didn’t like. When Andy said Brant tried to run them off the road, John knew today would be a bad day. He was an expert at spotting them. Seeing Allison running wildly towards the truck outside the school confirmed he was right. John had grown up with more bad days than good ones, so he could feel it in his bones when something bad was about to happen. 

What he hadn’t counted on was entering the theatre to find Claire and Brant simply talking. They’d entered on the far right, moving quickly and silently to the edge of the stage, John motioning for Brian to stand guard and alert them if anyone was coming. 

Andy had been about to run up on the stage when John stopped him. Andy looked confused and annoyed, but John waved him away, wanting to hear what Claire said and see how Brant would try to push her. 

It made him a bastard, but since Claire was alright and the two were just talking, John wanted to know if Claire would break under the pressure. He had thought for a moment she might, especially when Brant had offered her just about everything she’d wanted. 

But for some reason, John had wanted to see if Claire would defend them, if she had truly embraced their friendship, or if it was all a show. 

Now, as he walked her to class, his arm securely around her waist, giving anyone who so much as sneezed in their direction a dangerous glare, he felt like the biggest shithead in the world and also the luckiest. 

Claire had stayed the course. She’d defended every one of them and spoken honestly about why she was spending time with them and why she was dating him. 

‘ I genuinely like John–’

‘Allison isn’t a slut!’

‘Brian’s really smart and sweet–’

‘Andy wouldn’t abandon her just to stay on the wrestling team–’

John tried to put his actions down to the fact that he rarely trusted anyone, no matter their position in life. Kid, teenager, adult, it didn’t matter. He’d been screwed over too many times; he’d been hurt and abused and lied to so much he’d honestly lost faith in anyone but himself. He hated himself for it, but he took advantage of the opportunity, knowing he and Andy were only feet away if Brant should try to do anything terrible to Claire. But there had been a desperate curiosity to hear Claire’s honest thoughts when the Breakfast Club wasn’t around. He wanted to know if the girl he had gotten to know the last few days was real or just another lie waiting to bash him in the face when he let his guard down. It was selfish and horrible, but he’d chosen at that moment to allow Claire to suffer in hopes of learning what she honestly thought. 

He had planned to ride out this little group the five of them had formed until the novelty had worn off, each of them going their separate ways once the other students started to poke at them or their folks realized they didn’t want their kid around a no good burnout like him. 

What John hadn’t expected was to find real friends and a girl who liked him for who he was. He had worked so hard at keeping people at arm's length that he never realized how good it would feel to have people around who genuinely cared about him and his well-being. 

It was nice to hear Claire, the prom queen princess, say she genuinely liked him and she had defended him against rumors and badmouths. It had filled him with something he hadn’t felt in a long time, but he wasn’t sure exactly what it was. 

What he did know was hearing all of the things Brant said to her, the rumors he promised to spread like wildfire if Claire didn’t rejoin the ranks of the a-list assholes. She hated being alone…her feelings of being nothing more than a doll for her parent's amusement were valid. John didn’t understand how, but…he found himself empathizing. Even though their worlds were opposite, he felt he was experiencing the same thing as her, which made his heart twist even more.

And when Brant grabbed her, he saw red and felt anger unlike any he’d felt before. It wasn’t territorial so much as disgust. John would rather make love to a woman than hit one. And he never understood men like his father, men like Brant, who could gain satisfaction from hurting women. 

John had his moments where he’d get so mad his words cut like knives, and he knew he wasn’t perfect; he knew he needed to work on it, change, and god did he want to. But a poisonous tongue was his defense, and at the moment, he wasn’t safe enough in his day-to-day life to leave it behind. He’d used it on Claire, and he always regretted it after begging some God he didn't believe in to curb his anger to help him manage the aggression he felt daily. 

But even with his toxic tongue, he would never raise a hand to a woman. Seeing the look in Claire’s eyes, so reminiscent of the look his mother got when her husband would go on a rampage, John had made a vow in the second before he launched himself at Brant that he’d kill himself before he ever directed his acidic tongue at Claire ever again. He’d cut it off before he’d lash her with it. The only time he’d unleash his mouth on her was to make her toes curl, and his thighs tremble. 

In those minutes, listening to Claire speak honestly, John felt that feeling he didn't recognize; Claire hadn’t tried to hide or lie about what she wanted, and as John kissed her softly and watched her walk into her next class, it occurred to him what it was he felt. 

She glanced back at him, giving a shy wave before disappearing from his line of sight. John’s jaw clenched as he realized that he trusted her. His heart beat hard, and his hands suddenly began to sweat as he swallowed thickly….

I…trust her. I trust…Claire…

He suddenly felt longing swell inside him. He was missing her already, and he turned quickly, heading to his next class. His eyes were hard as he processed these foreign and overwhelming feelings. 

I trust her? I…trust her.

It rang like a bell through his mind, through every class, the turbulence of his brain only stopping when he’d come to meet her between classes and escort her to the next. 

During lunch, he sat quietly, listening to their group chat. Claire was unexpectedly chipper as she spoke as if some massive weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. His hand found hers under the table, holding it softly, and she squeezed it back before leaning to rest against his side and placing a head on his shoulder as she spoke animatedly to the others. 

John could smell her perfume, remembered the taste of her lips, and as the heat of her body vibrated into his side, John felt his dick twitch, something that shocked him as he had enough experience to not suffer from random boners like Brian still did. 

Yet, his body was giving him whiplash; he should be focused on Claire, should be talking to Andy about counterattacks to the onslaught of bullshit that was about to come their way, should be doing something other than sitting there with half a stiffy and wanting nothing more than to lay Claire down and– 

“So…Brian–” Claire started, and everyone at the table looked from Claire to Brian, holding his spork over his lunch tray, playing idly with the spaghetti as he looked up, “Yeah?” 

“I..wanted to thank you for what you did..for me and Allison. It was… audacious…one against three are pretty shitty odds…but I gotta know…would you have done it? Would you have really stood your ground if I hadn’t stepped in?” 

Brian scoffed, “Sure.” 

“Really?” Claire asked in an amused yet surprised tone, “Yeah, I mean…come on…if there was ever a reason to get beat up…it’d be defending you and Al…so..yeah…I would have done it.”

Claire stared at him in mild shock before a rueful smile came to her lips, and she looked at Allison, who smiled, “Come on–” 

The two girls stood, rounding the table. Though the lunch room was noisy as ever, John’s sharp eyes glanced between the girls and the cafeteria, seeing random heads turn as their once elite princess and the queen of darkness rounded the table. Each leaning over a shoulder to give Brian a soft kiss on the cheek, they whispered, “Thank you.”

Brian’s face went so red Andy snorted as John smiled at the nerd with wicked amusement. Brian sank in his chair as his voice squeaked out a nervous, “No problem…a-any time..” 

Claire and Allison returned to their seats, cool as cucumbers, before leaning close together and giggling, whispering amongst themselves as they did. 

John leaned forward, resting his chin on a fist. He looked at Brian and said in a baby voice, “Aw, does the wittle boy have a boner just from a couple of kisses?” 

Brian’s eyes went wide as he looked from John to the girls, who were still whispering and didn't seem to hear, so he chucked his bread roll at John, who dodged it and started to laugh. 

“Don’t be a dick, dude–” Andy said to John with a smirk as he nudged Brian with his shoulder, “Hey, it’s no big deal, just do more heavy lifting at home; it helps.” 

Brian went to answer, but John leaned back in, “That’s what I fuckin’ told him! I even gave him one of my best nudie mags, but the dweeb is too good to rub one out. Talk some sense into him.” 

Andy looked at John and leaned closer, keeping his voice low, “You got nudie mags?” 

“Uh…yeah? Don’t you?” 

Andy rolled his eyes, “No! I have a kid sister; she always sneaks into my room. I can’t take the chance of her finding it! My mom finds that shit, and I’m toast.” 

“Mine too,” Brian said, nodding as he leaned closer. John raised two fingers and tapped Andy’s forehead, “That’s why you get a footlocker, you idiot—one with a lock.” 

Andy and Brian looked from John to each other before they started laughing. John rolled his eyes, “Couple of geniuses here, I swear.” 

Andy was about to retort when Claire suddenly cut in, Allison right next to her, “Hey…Allison and I have an idea.” 

The boys waited before John reached over and flicked Claire’s ear, “Well? What is it, your highness? We ain’t got all day.” 

Claire playfully bit at John’s finger, which made the whole table fall silent. It was such un-Claire-like behavior, but she then turned and looked at them all brightly. “Whose free tonight?” 

PAGE BREAK 

John set the wooden crate of beer on the small workbench inside the guard shack. Andy was right behind him, setting down three bags of junk food next to the crate of bottles. 

“Think this is a good idea?” Andy asked, looking around the room, which was no bigger than his bedroom, as John began to root for something in one of the many cubbies. 

“I don’t know,” John murmured as he found what he was looking for and pulled out an old box of matches. 

Andy watched as John crossed to the front corner of the room by the shabby door and knelt, ripping pages out of an old magazine and crumbling them up. There was an old wood-burning stove there, small and looking like it was days away from being a junk pile. 

“Hey, jockstrap, wake up–” 

“Huh, what?” Andy asked, refocusing on John as the older teen pointed to another box under a makeshift bookshelf, “That box, bring it over.” John said. 

Andy retrieved the box of small and medium-sized sticks; John had stuffed crumpled papers into the stove before piling some small sticks. He lit a match and began to stoke the weak flames gently. 

“You okay, man? You seem real…mellow–” Andy started, and John glanced up at him, his face showing his annoyance, and Andy clarified, “I mean, more mellow than normal…like you’re…kind of…” 

“If you say happy, I swear to god I’ll punch you clean in the dick.” John snapped, and Andy crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind him, “Yeah, whatever. You don’t need to be so defensive. …ever since the whole Brant thing…you seem different, is all.” 

“Yeah, well…how about you don’t try to think? It’s not exactly your strong suit.” John snapped, and Andy stood up, “Now I know something’s wrong.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about, dude,” John said irritably as he stood up and closed the door of the stove and headed outside in a huff. 

Andy followed, “Look, I get we are still getting to know each other, but I’ve noticed something about you and your bullshit–” Andy challenged as he followed John under the bridge and out along the beach. 

John began to pick up medium-sized pieces of driftwood, angrily shoving each one he found into Andy’s arms as they walked in the fading light, “Yeah? And what bullshit have you noticed?” John barked as he continued to look for wood in the twilight. 

“When someone gets too close to the truth, you get super defensive and lash out.” 

John stopped walking, a hand coming to dig fingers into his eyes as he shook his head, “Stop talking, Andy, or I’m going to punch you, swear to god–” 

Andy walked right up to his back, dropping the small pile of wood, which made John turn to look at him, though Andy noticed his usual angry fire wasn’t burning behind his eyes, “See, bullshit. And I’m calling your bullshit ‘cause I can tell something is bothering you. If you don't want to talk about it, that’s fine, but stop pretending like I can’t see through your macho man crap.” 

John studied Andy’s face, his expression critical but considering as Andy waited. When John didn’t say anything, Andy just rolled his eyes. “Whatever, man. But if you want to talk…I just mean…I’ll listen.” 

Andy knelt, picked up the wood, and returned to the shack when John called after him, “I think I love her, man.” 

This made Andy stop, turning back to look at John, who stood like a broken Silhouette against the light sand of the beach. A soft breeze blew, causing the dead grasses to hiss gently as John’s long hair danced in the wind. The older teen didn’t look at him as Andy stared in shock.

The silence between them rang for a long time. Andy stared at John, who stared at the beach, his face hard as he tried to process it. 

“I mean…I think it’s love…I don’t…I haven’t ever felt before…not like this…and…I don’t…I don’t recognize this feeling. I can’t…understand it.”  

Andy returned to John, who was still not looking at him. His expression was one of heavy strain as if he were trying to work out some massive math equation without a calculator. 

“What do you mean you can’t understand it?” Andy asked calmly, still trying to wrap his mind around the idea that John might be in love with Claire. 

“Just what I said, shit head, I don’t understand this feeling. I know other feelings; I don’t know this one.” 

Andy studied John’s face, the consternation evident as he asked softly, slightly uncomfortable having this conversation because he wasn’t exactly an expert in matters of the heart, “Okay…uh…what does it feel like?” 

John’s eyes glanced at him before he reached into his coat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting it quickly before closing his lighter and gripping it tight in his hand, “I don’t know. That’s the problem, ya dingus.” 

Andy shook his head and closed his own eyes in frustration as he said quickly, “No, dude, just stop….and fucking think about it. What does it feel like…hot cold….warm…bubbly, choose your fucking adjective…” 

John let out a frustratedly long sigh, the smoke from his cigarette bellowing out into the cold air as he rubbed his forehead and growled, ‘Like…I don’t hurt as much…in here. Cause I got her,” John motioned to his chest, “Like…somehow everything is going to be okay….like….I’m not as fucking scared of going home…or like…I could scale a building or–” 

“Like you could fly?” Andy asked, and John looked at him in surprise, “Yeah…sorta–” John agreed, and Andy walked over, putting his hand on John’s shoulder, “Yeah, you love her.” 

“Yeah? How would you fuckin’ know?” John asked defensively. 

“Cause that’s how I feel about Allison, you dumbfuck, and unlike you, I know what love feels like.” Andy turned and started to walk back to the shack, leaving John to finish his cigarette. Andy was putting some of the smaller pieces of driftwood onto the fire and trying to get it going when John walked in and asked without hesitation, “So what do I do? Do I tell her?” 

Andy snorted loudly, “Fuck no, I wouldn’t.” 

“So…you haven’t told Smiles that you…ya know.” 

Andy glanced at John before returning to work on the fire. “No.” 

“Why not?” John asked, closing the door behind him, “I don’t know. I guess…cause…what if she doesn’t feel the same?” 

John seemed to have that realization just as Andy said it, his arms crossing as he ran his tongue over his teeth in thought, “So…what? We’re just supposed to sit with these feelings….bouncing around inside us? We just…don’t express them?” 

Andy used a cut-up rebar to move the fire around as he murmured, “I guess. I mean, I’ll tell her eventually…maybe. But…it’s a little soon…we just started dating…and…” 

“You don’t want to fuck it up,” John said matter-of-factly as if Andy had just given him some solution, and the sporty teen looked at John and nodded, “Yeah.” 

John fell silent after that, leaning against the doorframe as he thought about it, and after a long moment, just as Andy was shutting the door to the stove, John said, “But what if telling your girl you love them could get you laid–” 

Andy froze, looking up at John from the floor as they met each other's gaze, and both of them seriously considered it before Andy shook his head, seemingly waking from his horny stupor, “No, it wouldn’t be right. If I tell her the truth, it’s because I’d want her to know, not to get something out of it.” 

John cleared his throat, “Right, yeah…makes sense…good…strong sense of morality…” 

Andy stood, swiping his hands together to clear off the bark and dirt before he looked at John, who now had an unreadable expression. Andy waited, and John looked up at him, his eyes worried, “What if…you only know how to express love…through sex or something….I don’t know…that…happens, right?” 

Andy swallowed, realizing John was trying to share something about himself without facing the truth of the matter. Either he wasn’t ready to face that about himself, or he was trying to get Andy to give him advice without Andy seeing him as a piece of shit. 

Before Andy could respond, John continued and said softly, still not meeting Andy’s eyes, “Say…like…you know a dude…whose only ever been…hurt by the people who are supposed to love him….and…the first time…he ever felt anything good…or kind…or…loving was with some older person…when he was just a kid…and it felt so good not to feel bad…he just got really really good at…finding ways to get…that. And now…he can’t like…he’s just angry all the time…except when he’s…fucking. If this guy can’t express anything but anger and aggression…unless he’s fuckin’....should he tell her…or….show her?” 

Andy wanted to ask John to drop the metaphor and explain what he meant; he wanted to know the who, how, where, why, and when of it all. Because he got the gist of the question… Andy knew John was talking about himself, and he also had a feeling John knew that Andy knew. So, if he was pushing this narrative of a guy who knows a guy…it was because he wasn’t ready to face the truth of what had happened to him. 

Andy stuck his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket, looking at John, whose eyes seemed even more worried than before, and said, “Then I guess this guy, you know, should tell the girl he likes what's up with him…and…they can figure it out together. Cause…if he can’t express a lot of emotions very easily, he should let her know…so she doesn’t worry that she did something wrong when he doesn’t express his feelings.” 

John nodded, “Right. That’s…that’s a good idea. I’ll let him know.” 

Andy cleared his throat and nodded, “Yeah. And…let this guy know…he’s actually pretty good at expressing himself….just needs to focus on the good emotions…instead of the bad, and he’ll probably figure it out.” 

John gave another soft nod, meeting Andy’s eye and giving a sincere and quiet “Thanks.” 

“Any time,” Andy said before he noticed the fire was growing and the guard shack was warming up. 

“How long do you usually stay here?” Andy asked 

John sniffed and wiped his nose, looking away from Andy. He crossed to the back wall where the cubbies were and began to rummage through the snacks: “As long as it takes for my old man to cool off. I stayed for a whole month once.” 

Andy glanced back at John, “No shit?” 

“Yeah. But I really fucked up that time. Set the damn toaster on fire.” 

Andy began to laugh, “How the fuck did you manage that?” 

John smiled as he pulled out a bag of chips and pulled it open, popping a chip into his mouth and chewing happily, “I put some toast in and forgot to set a timer, got stupid high in my room, passed out, next thing I knew there was a flaming toaster being chucked at my head. Just dove out my bedroom window and ran for the hills…like usual.” 

“Jesus, I can’t imagine living like that.” Andy said, coming to steal some chips as John sat on the makeshift bed and snorted, “Trust me, you wouldn’t last two days in my house. You might be able to get my old man on his back with your fancy-schmancy wrestling moves, but all it would take is one hit with the belt, and you’d be running for the hills, too. Especially if the buckle got you, shit stings like hell.” 

Andy was about to speak when there was a knock on the door as it was pulled open. Brian, Claire, and Allison walked in, carrying sleeping bags, pillows, more food, and soda. 

“Ah, the calvary has arrived, and with them, the most beautiful woman in all the world! All hail, Claire Bender-over!” John said, holding up the bag of chips in a mock salute. 

Claire rolled her eyes. “Hahah, that's very funny. Here, I got you this at Clark’s.” She set a brand new sleeping bag down next to him. “You can keep it here, just in case.” 

John shoved some more chips in his mouth. “Tanks,” he managed before he shifted the bag behind him and pulled Claire closer. He swallowed as he looked at her, and she smiled. “Hi,” she said softly. “Mm, hi,” John said before giving her a long, slow kiss. 

“Get a room; the virgin nerd is too lonely to watch you two make out.” Brian sighed as he set a large bag on the ground and rolled his eyes. 

John threw a handful of chips at the blonde as he made a noise of protest before saying, “Stop bitching; Andy and I are going to make sure we find you some grade-A pussy.” 

Claire smacked John’s chest as Allison gave a garbled laugh and kissed Andy softly, “I’d sure like some pussy–” Brian murmured as he rolled his eyes again, the four other teens looking at him before bursting out into laughter, Claire throwing one of the pillows at him as Brian chuckled. 

PAGE BREAK 

The radio was blaring as the five teens bounced around the tiny shack, stuffing their faces with food and drinking their beverages of choice. John was smoking up a storm, and the joint had been passed around twice now. Allison was not imbibing the drug of choice but instead joining John in slugging back beers as Claire sipped from a bottle of wine, and Brian pretended to conduct the music with a bottle of his own in one hand while the other held a rather pathetic-looking twig. 

Andy was drinking soda and had the joint, bobbing and weaving like a boxer as he danced. Allison played air guitar while Brian continued to conduct, John head-banging over Claire’s shoulder as his hands ran over her stomach and hips while she danced madly in front of him. 

They had hung up Christmas lights, which Brian and John had managed to rig to a battery pack, and small tea candles were littered around the available surfaces. 

As the song ended, a real grinder came on, and John set his beer aside, wrapping his arms around Claire, who leaned back against him. 

“This is insane; I’d never dance like this at school–” Claire breathed as she felt John grind against her backside, “Ain’t at school, Cherry, don’t. Stop.” he held his cigarette up to her lips. She took a long drag before turning in John’s arms and blowing out the smoke, finding his lips through his messy hair and kissing him deeply. 

Allison was dancing with Brian, but both kept it respectable. Andy watched with amused eyes as Brian tried to learn how to move in a way that didn’t make him look like a chicken being electrocuted. Allison stopped every once in a while to grab his hips or shoulders and try to shake him loose. 

“Relax!” She laughed in that profoundly boyish way of hers, Brian trying not to laugh as he took another sip of his beer and said, “Like this?” 

Claire had glanced over, John kissing messily at her throat as she snorted and pressed John’s face up, his drunk eyes finding her face and smiling, “We have an emergency; I got to go help–” 

“Mmm, you don’t, grind on my dick some more–” John whispered against her ear, and Claire bit her lip and cleared her throat, “Just…take a break, go sit with Andy.” 

John gently smacked her butt as Claire walked over to try and help Allison with Brian, the redhead coming up behind to take Brian’s hips and try to stop his robotic and unholy movements. 

Andy was sitting on the work bench's table, and John came to lean against it as they watched their girlfriends try to save the dumpster fire that was Brian’s dancing. 

Andy leaned in and asked, “You think he knows what he is doing?” 

John laughed drunkenly, “No, but he’s sure good at getting the girls to dote on him. It’d be impressive if it weren’t pathetic.” 

“Come on, man, as his friend, it’s our job to help find him a girlfriend,” Andy said, glancing with a wince back at the blonde whose gyrating hips had the girls laughing. Brian seemed fine with that as he wrapped arms over their shoulders, and the three started to do a kick line. 

“Are you sure that dude needs a girl friend?” John asked, looking at the three and laughing way too hard. 

Andy threw his head back in laughter as John smacked Andy’s thigh and said, “Whelp, I got a hot redhead to steal away from this sad fucking display. Keep the Brain from ruining the furniture.” 

Andy sobered a little and grabbed John’s shirt, tugging him back as he asked with red eyes, “Wait, you gonna tell her?” 

John smacked Andy’s hand, and the boy let go as John said, “Ain’t your business if I am; now finish your joint like a good boy and go to bed.” 

John approached Claire, the girl smiling brightly at him as they were still kicking in time to the music. His intense eyes never left hers, and her smile faded as John motioned with his head for her to come outside with him. 

It took a minute for Claire to find her coat, but soon enough, the pair were outside. The music faded as they shut the door and began to walk. They didn’t make it far before John drunkenly pushed her up against the cold stone wall of the bridge, trapping her and leaning in for a kiss. Claire returned it tenfold, her hand running through his hair to cup the back of his head, and John, encouraged by her want of him, pressed himself flush against her. 

“Mmm, let me fuck you–” he whispered against her throat, his arms scooping her against him as she moaned softly and whispered, “Not here…not under a bridge–” 

“No. But…let me…” his mouth found her lips, words falling out between each kiss as he said, “I want to show you–” 

“Show me what?” she asked, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as he picked her up and her legs locked around his waist. He pressed her back against the wall, pinning her as he licked at her throat, and his hips started to thrust against her gently. 

“Everything.” John moaned. 

“Soon,” she whispered, and John calmed a little, pulling back to look at her. They both breathed heavily as their eyes met. “Soon? What does that mean?” he asked.

Claire took several deep breaths before gently tapping his shoulder to get him to set her down, and he did. 

She pressed some hair away from his face before saying softly, “I don’t want to promise you anything…but…I think…I want to…do it…with you. I trust you.” 

John swallowed thickly, his forehead coming to hers as he closed his eyes and whispered, “I…trust you too.” 

Claire seemed surprised by that admission and asked, “Really?” 

John gave several stiff nods before he said, “Just do me a favor, okay, Cherry?” 

Claire nodded, “If we do it…don’t…don’t leave me after. Just…stay with me. Please? Everyone always leaves after…I don’t want you to–” 

Claire cut him off with a soft kiss, so gentle and soothing, and John cupped her face as he moaned into her mouth, the pair meeting each other's gaze as she whispered, “Never.” 

John chuckled softly, leaning closer, “Never, huh? You going to marry me, Cherry?”

The resounded snort she gave was followed by a “Whatever, as if–” 

“Uh-huh, I think Cherry is gonna marry me…then you really will be Claire Bender-over.” 

Claire smacked his chest and bit angrily, “Stop calling me that! It’s bad enough you guys listening to the entire fucking conversation, let alone you calling me that horrible name.” And though she was upset, she was still horny from John’s advances, and he knew it. 

He pressed his lips to her ear, gently pinning her to the stones again, saying, “I promise, I’m not saying it to hurt you; I’m doing you a favor. You know they’ll start using it…calling you that…the more you hear it beforehand, the less it will hurt later.” 

Claire’s jaw tightened, her eyes watering as she crossed her arms and reluctantly nodded, “You’re right.” 

“Thick skin, Cherry, grow it now, 'cause you’ll need it later.” 

Once again, their eyes met, John’s face looking muddled from the beer and weed, but she only saw gentle eyes hiding concern. Concern for her. She leaned up, giving him a chaste kiss before murmuring against his lips, “Thanks, John.” 

He gave a soft moan, almost a whine, nestling his face against hers before asking, “Will you come with me and let me show you something? It’s cool, I promise.” 

She could tell by how cute he was being John was clearly drunk, his mannerisims and voice had changed, coming off much more like a playful child or gentle beast. He was clearly horny and wanted to do it, most likely against the wall he had her pinned to. But he also seemed to want to show her something special, which she was curious to see. 

“Alright. Show me.” 

“Cool,” John said, rocking back and forth slightly before he took her hand and guided her out from under the bridge, hanging a sharp left and walking her back along the length of it before she saw what looked like a rusted-out metal staircase. 

“I’ll go up first, only one at a time, then you follow…go slow.” She nodded and watched as John slowly made his way up the stairs. The sound of the metal giving soft groans made her a little uneasy, but John made it to the top just fine, and he weighed more than she did. 

Claire slowly ascended the steps, being careful in the dark and taking her time. John held out a hand, and she took it when she reached the top. 

“Watch your step. The tracks are still here.” John said as he guided her to the far side of the bridge and pointed out, “Chicago….and…look up… Milky Way–” 

Claire’s eyes grew wide. The stars looked dense, and the moon shone bright before John tapped her shoulder. She looked at him before following his pointing arm: “The trees look silver in the moonlight.” 

Looking away from the faint glow of the large city and towards the other side of the bridge, Claire stared as the moon’s bright light cast silver across the forest. She turned back, glancing over the edge to see the moon reflecting in the large rushing creek below before looking back up to the densely packed stars in the sky. “It’s almost like there is a river in the sky,” she whispered. 

John lit a cigarette and said softly, “Mm-hm, s’why I like it here. It’s quiet at night…it’s like a different world.” 

Claire looked at him, “John…it’s beautiful.” 

He removed the cigarette from his mouth, slowly blowing smoke as Claire looked at him. He could see her more clearly up here, with no trees or bridges to cast shadows. The moon drenched her in its glow, and he looked away from her, resting his hands on the stone wall that lined either side of the tracks. 

His mind returned to the day he’d slept on her couch, Claire on top of him. His dreams were of them sitting beside the water, smoking and talking, and just existing. She was here now with him, smoking and talking, and…she thought this place was beautiful. His little hole in the ground, where he ran to when he needed to feel safe…was beautiful. 

Claire came to lean beside him, their arms touching, and they looked out over the forest. She tilted her head onto his shoulder, and John kissed the top of her head, reveling in having someone with whom to share this moment. 

As he pulled away to take another drag, the alcohol made him bold, and as he flicked the ash off the tip of his cigarette, John said softly, “Uh…Claire…before anything else happens…there’s this thing...I need to tell you about…well…this guy I know…and he…he’s got these problems and…this thing happened to him, and it’s hard for him to…talk about but–” 

Claire seemed to be all ears, but the door below them under the bridge smashed open, and Brian and Allison came wobbling. “Hey, where are you guys?” 

John cursed, and Claire laughed, “Hey, up here!” Claire called. 

Brian turned around, looking up drunkenly, “How’d you get all the way up there!?” Allison waved at them as Andy came out and helped her put on a coat. 

“Here, there’s stairs, come around the other side!” John had stood was rubbing his eyes and trying to keep his temper in check when a hand came to his arm, and he looked down to see Claire smiling, “Hey, I promise, we’ll finish this conversation later.” she kissed him before heading to the stairs and calling down, “Hey, no! One at a time, it’s not very sturdy; yeah, Allison, come up first–” 

John stared at her back, taking a long drag of his cigarette before he seemed to shake out of whatever spell he was under and smirked, “Sure, later.” 

PAGE BREAK 

The five of them lay on the floor of the guard shack, staring up at the bridge's stone ceiling, the music now playing soft melodies as the piles of blankets and sleeping bags were set up above and below the group of teenagers. 

Snacks and drinks were all over, a mighty mess that would make any mother swoon with despair. But the kids were sleepily laughing and talking as the night slowly passed. Each takes turns adding small bits of wood and sticks to the stove to keep it warm enough to get them through the night. 

“It’s still nuts to me; you have a literal house you can visit at any time,” Brian said to John, the blonde boy lying between Claire and Allison with John and Andy on the outside on either edge of the massive bed they’d built. 

“Ain’t nuts, it’s smart. You get your ass beat regularly. It’s good to have a place to go.” John said, Claire lying against his side, her head on his chest, and his hand gently wrapped around her. 

“How’d you find this place?” Andy asked. 

“Well, remember the exploding fiery toaster I told you about?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I found it the same day. My old man came after me in his old beater of a truck, and I just ducked into the woods. I kept running until I came to the clearing and saw this old, busted-up bridge. I walked down to it, thinking I could hang out underneath, and found the guard shack. I broke in, and viola, a home for when I need to get the fuck away from home.” 

“How long ago was that?” Claire asked. 

John thought about it momentarily and said, “Maybe five years ago…maybe four…can’t remember.” 

Allison said softly, “So…you were twelve or thirteen?” 

“That’s pretty young to have your own place.” Brian mused, completely missing Allison’s point, but no one had pointed it out. 

“Well, you have us now—” Claire said, “and we’ll make sure you’re never alone again.” 

John sighed, “Being alone ain’t that bad. It only sucks when you’re upset with no one to talk to. The rest of the time, eh, it’s cake.” 

Andy sat up instantly and gasped, “We have cake!?” his high ass heading back over to the snack area as the group busted out laughing. 

“Dude’s high as a fucking kite.” Brian smirked, “You ain’t one to talk Mr. Beer and a joint before bed.” John said, leaning over to push Brian back down onto his pillow. 

Claire sighed, “Well, I hate being alone. Sometimes, when my parents are away, I can hear my thoughts echoing through the house.” 

“Sounds bad.” Brian offered, and Allison glanced over to Claire, “What’s worse is when your parents are always home…getting high in the basement…forgetting you exist…they are right there…and you can’t even reach them.” 

There was silence for a long moment; Andy even stopped searching for snacks to glance at her. “Weed?” Claire asked, and Allison shook her head, swallowing spit as she whispered a soft “No.” 

Claire sat up, “Harder?” 

Allison nodded, “Sometimes. And they don’t come upstairs for days…I don’t know how we’ve kept the house this long…but somehow…Dad always manages to make it to work when he needs to…mom always manages to wake up and…take care of the house…but when that basement door closes…I feel like my world is ending. I don’t exist when that door closes.”  

Brian glanced at her, “Is that why you were so upset when we all got high in detention on Saturday?” Allison sat up, looking at him, wiping her nose. She swallowed again and then nodded. 

“I saw you. You went into one of the study rooms…you were hugging yourself and rocking….” Brian said, and Allison wrapped her arms around her legs, “I thought…you were just being weird…I’m sorry.” 

“It’s something I do when I’m stressed…I can’t always help it.” Allison tried to clarify, and Claire shook her head as she sat up, “You don’t have to justify anything to us. We’re your friends.” 

“I’d rather be here with you than at home with them,” Allison said, and Claire crawled over Brian to reach Allison, the blonde boy having a momentary lapse as he went to poke Claire’s butt, and John smacked his hand, “Down, killer. No touchy-touchy.” 

Brian sighed, “Sorry.” 

Claire wrapped her arms around Allison and said, “Any time, you call me, you can stay with me. We’ve got, like, fifty bedrooms and Mom and Dad are almost always gone. We can just…chill…and we never have to go into the basement.” 

Allison laughed and leaned into Claire’s embrace, her eyes shut as she sniffed and allowed Claire to rock her gently. 

Brian sighed, “My family is pretty normal and boring, aside from the whole straight a’s or you die thing. It sucks to have to ace everything, but comparatively speaking…I have nothing to bitch about… you know…aside from being a scrawny weak virgin and being smarter than all of you.” 

This made Claire and Allison bark in disbelief at his audacity, and they lunged at him, tickling and smacking him with pillows. 

PAGE BREAK 

John didn’t know what time it was, but everyone was asleep. He laid on his side, Claire cuddled into his chest, and John listened to his friend's breathing as they all slept. He looked at Claire’s sleeping face, his arms holding her closer as he swallowed and leaned in close, his lips pressing to her ear as he whispered so very softly, “Hey Cherry…” She didn’t respond, so he said, “I think I love you.” 

Claire slept on, John curling her body against his as he kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come, but for the morning to hold off just a little longer. 

Chapter Text

Brian’s eyes fluttered open, his sleepy brow furrowing as he saw a stone ceiling above him and pale golden light coming in through a small window that had been haphazardly taped up to keep the cold out. Sitting up slowly, he felt his achy body and sour stomach, his head giving a light spin as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around him. 

Andy and John were still out cold, his eyes noticing that they had shifted in the middle of the night, spreading out above the others, a hand from each boy laying less than an inch apart, as if they had reached to find the other in the night. 

Grabbing his book bag from near his feet, Brian sluggishly pulled it onto his lap, took out a Polaroid camera, and moved to his knees, snapping a quick picture of the two reaching for each other. The sound of the camera made the two boys jerk and shift, grumbling as their hands moved away, but they remained asleep. As the picture printed, he heard movement outside the shack and finally noticed the girls were gone. 

The door opened, Claire and Allison walking in, coats on and hands filled with coffee and what looked to be breakfast sandwiches, “They still sleeping?” Claire asked, and Brian nodded, holding out the now cured picture to Allison, who took it and smiled, snorting softly before she showed it to Claire, who bit her bottom lip to try and stifle her laugh. 

This seemed to wake Andy, who sat up and looked around, “The hell?” his groggy voice and bedhead made the girls laugh a little harder as Brian smirked at him. 

“The girls brought breakfast,” Brian said, and Andy managed a nod before he, too, sat up, his half-open eyes looking around the messy space as he smacked his lips and rubbed at his chest, “Damn,” he said softly again, “We messed this place up.” 

Claire and Allison were handing out coffee and sandwiches, sitting near Brian, who accepted another hot chocolate as Claire told him it was hot, and he rolled his eyes but smiled sheepishly. 

“The car and truck okay?” Andy asked sleepily, and Allison nodded as Claire said, “Yeah, no one messed with them, though we should probably find a better place to park.” 

Andy nodded his agreement as he took a small sip of his coffee and grabbed another breakfast sandwich to add to his first. The young man noticed they had grabbed extra, which was most likely for him. 

“You dicks don’t shut the fuck up; I’m kicking you out,” John suddenly barked sleepily, his hand grabbing multiple extra blankets and pulling them over himself, disappearing below the pile in a lumpy cacoon. Claire gave a soft smile in his direction, moving to set a coffee and sandwich next to him on the floor. 

A leather-clad hand appeared, grabbed the sandwich, and disappeared again, Claire’s hand running along his blanket-covered body before she sat down and ate. 

The early morning silence was relaxing, and both Andy and Brian thanked the girls for getting food and coffee, the pair nodding their welcome. A few minutes later, John finally sat up, his ordinarily feathered hair tangled and his face still bruised and swollen but looking a little better than the day before. The sandwich was half eaten in his hand, and he grabbed his coffee and took several long, slow chugs before letting out a small burp and asking, “And what are Daddy’s children doing today?” His voice was rough but carried that fake parental tone he’d used many times. 

The group eyed him before Andy said, “I have to help my old man at the store, and he wants to go over my weight goals and stuff. So I have to head home. But maybe we can do something tonight if I finish all my stuff.” 

Allison blew air out of her mouth to move some bangs out of her eyes as she said, “Library, I want to get more art books.” 

John looked at Claire, her eyes disappointed as she said, “Mom gets home today, and I promised I’d go with her to shop for a dress for my coming out party.” 

“Coming out for what?” Brian asked, and Claire laughed softly, “No, it’s a party…uh…kind of like a debutante ball? I was supposed to have it last year, but my folks were out of town, so they set it up for this year instead. It’s this whole deal, all these people come, and I get a gorgeous dress, and then I have to do this really embarrassing dance with a bunch of the guys that show up…” 

“Uuuuh, what?” John asked, his attention now hyper-focused on her and Claire said softly, “It’s no big deal. I mean, it’s just a dumb little dance–” 

“Uh-huh, sure, except you're dancing with other guys when I’m your boyfriend.” his tone was filled with snark, and Claire’s eyes narrowed. 

“Knock it off; it’s not like that,” Claire dismissed calmly as she said, “I may not even have to do the stupid dance part, but knowing my mother, she’ll probably make me–” 

“What’s the point of the party? I mean, is it like a birthday party?” Andy asked, confused and Claire looked at him, her tongue running along her teeth in thought before she glanced at the rest of them, their eyes focused hard on her, “Well, a long time ago, they were used as a way to introduce a girl to “ a group of her peers ,” I mean, it’s kind of fucked but–” she stopped talking when she noticed the dead-eyed, confused stare the boys were giving her. Allison offered softly, “It’s like an event, to show Claire off to the guys her dad works with–” Claire’s face snapped to Allison as the darkly clad girl said, “To see if any of their sons are interested.” 

“Hey, that’s not true!” Claire barked at her, and Allison raised a doubtful brow. 

“Is that mother fucker auctioning you off?” John said suddenly in a relatively soft but edgy tone. 

Claire’s eyes met his, “Don’t be stupid. Of course not.” 

“No? Seems that way,” Andy said. 

“Don’t do that,” Claire barked. 

“Do what?” John snapped. 

“Turn something fun into something awful. It’s not like that.” 

“Like what?” Andy challenged. 

“Like whatever stupid thing you’re trying to imply.” 

“I’m not implying anything, Claire . I’m just saying this shit sounds stupid.” John finished angrily as he stood and walked out of the room. 

Claire breathed and closed her eyes, swearing softly before looking at Allison and saying angrily, “Thanks a lot, Al.” She then stood and followed John out. Leaving Allison to roll her eyes as she glanced at Andy, who shrugged, “So…is it like a Cotillion?” Brian asked randomly. 

“Shut up,” Andy said dejectedly. 

“John! Hey, wait, I said wait! Will you stop!” Claire called after the young man, who was walking away swiftly. 

“Gonna level your old man.” He bit out, and Claire felt dread filling her stomach. 

“Jesus, stop it! It’s not like that, what Allison said isn’t right, it’s just for show, it’s a tradition! No one is auctioning me off! Damn it, Allison!” Claire hissed under her breath. Claire chased after him, the bright morning sun making her wince as she left the dim guard shack behind and grabbed his hand to stop him. 

He turned to look at her, his eyes angry, “Listen to me. Please.” she urged, and John took a deep breath, weighing if he wanted to listen before nodding, “Thank you. God, it’s like zero to sixty with you sometimes, I swear.” John gave her a somewhat annoyed glare, so Claire continued, “If you will let me explain….A coming-out party is just a way for my father to introduce me to high society. It’s a networking event. It allows me to talk to very high-status people, people I might decide to work for in the future, and yes, a long, long time ago, it was also used to help find young women husbands or to introduce them to other families of status….but…this one, is just for me, so I can meet people who might be important to my future, and yes, technically, I am supposed to choose an escort. A guy my age walks me in and dances with me. But if I don’t have one, then I may dance with a few of the guys there; it’s just polite, like proper etiquette; it’s nothing like what you’re thinking–” 

“And when were you going to tell me about your fancy little party, huh? Kind of seems important since we just started fucking dating, Claire!” John said loudly, and Claire quickly put a hand on his chest, swallowing and hoping she could get him to calm down. 

“I didn’t think about it. Everything has been so crazy lately, and a lot has been going on. I hadn’t thought about the party…or how you might feel about it. I’m sorry to just drop it on you like this. I…really didn’t think you’d care–” 

“Oh really? Didn’t think I’d care that you were gonna get all dolled up and go dancing with a bunch of other guys? Other guys, who, by the way, seem to have issues with respecting women? Is Brant going to be there? Huh? This stupid party seems right up his smarmy shit-stain alley.” 

Claire met his stormy eyes and felt her face melt into one of worry. She hadn’t thought about that either, but the truth was that Brant would probably be there. The thought made her feel even worse, and her excitement for the event suddenly faded. 

“You’re right; he will probably be there. I didn’t even think about that, damn it. It’s too late now to cancel the party, but maybe I could talk Dad into…no, Brant’s dad works for mine, he’ll have to invite them–” Claire mainly was talking to herself now, trying to come up with some reason to avoid inviting the Hill’s to her coming-out-party. 

John had been studying her face, seeing her pink cheeks fade as she turned slightly pale, and he realized if he was ever going to be a hero, he might as well do it now, “Fine, then I’ll be your escort,” John snapped suddenly, and Claire stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted, “W-What?” 

“Look, if you want to do this, if it’s your choice to do this stupid dog and pony show, I ain’t going to stop you, but that means that I am going to be your escort or date or whatever. I ain’t lettin' these rich mother fucks paw all over you…you’re mine to paw…or…whatever…I just mean…you’re not mine, but…you’re….my girlfriend…so mine to escort or whatever.” his face flushed red, cheeks tingling pink as he looked at her, his voice a little horse and his eyes speaking volumes. 

All traces of sleep had left him, and his face was a combination of anger and worry, which took Claire by surprise. 

She took a step closer, looking up into his face, which seemed to calm him, but his lips became a thin line. While it seemed like he was asking her, she could tell he wasn’t. There was an illusion of choice at this moment; he wouldn’t stop her from going, but he wouldn’t let her do this without him. 

Maybe it was insecurity or rebellion, or he didn’t trust her enough. Given his life, she couldn’t blame him for this, but she had hoped a little headway had been made. It felt more protective than possessive, and Claire’s shocked face turned into a soft smile as she leaned up and kissed his cheek, “If you’re serious, I will consider it.” 

John eyed her for a moment, “Yeah?” 

She nodded, “Yeah. But you should know people will probably be rude to you. And you would have to keep your temper–” John cocked a brow at that as Claire ran a thumb across his lips, which had the effect of releasing the tension from his face, “--and that mouth of yours under control. You can’t go off if someone says something mean. It’s going to suck…but if you think you can do that….I’d like to have you as my escort.” 

John’s dark eyes studied her face, flicking back and forth a moment before he said softly, “I don’t think you want me to control my mouth at all…” his hand coming to cup the small of her back as the other went to the back of her head. 

Claire gave the softest moan that seemed to spur John to lean in for a kiss, his lips murmuring against her as he asked softly, “So, when’s this fancy shindig happening, Sweets?”

Claire swallowed and let out a heavy breath. She glanced from their touching lips back to his eyes and managed a soft, “End of April....” 

The look John gives is one of wicked glee, subtle and soft, but his eyes narrow as he provides a cocky smirk and says, “Well, Cherry , that would mean ... you're mine for the rest of the month ….”

Claire’s eyes grew, her smile fading as her lips parted, “a lot can happen in a month….” John whispers hungrily, moving closer still, pulling her into him as he looks at her face. A long, slow sigh escapes his nose, and he swallows and says, “Yeah?” 

Claire seems lost for a moment, cheeks tingling red as she gives the faintest noise, “Mhm,” and her head barely nods, eyes lost in his as John leans in. 

“Say it…” John urged gently, leaning down to kiss her cheek before running lips up to her brow and caressing her skin softly, “Say you’re mine for a whole fuckin’ month, sweets–” 

John’s voice nearly sounded weak as he spoke, which drove Claire wild. She nodded quickly and whispered, “For a whole month.”

He gently kissed her, and as he pulled back, he said, “Maybe I’ll sell a kidney and buy you at the “auction”…then you could be my maid; you make a mean frozen pizza.” 

Claire smirked and said in a somewhat cocky but affectionate tone of her own, “You couldn’t afford me.” 

“Is that right?” John teased as Claire gave a nod, and she said, “You know what’s fucked?” 

“What?” 

“You get for free what a rich man has to pay for.” 

John pulled back to look at her, that statement taking him by surprise. Claire gently kissed his cheek before turning and heading back inside, shaking off the cold of the morning or perhaps trying to ease the fire John had created in her.

John hesitated and remained in his spot for a long moment as he tried to unravel what the fuck Claire meant by something as cryptic as that. 

The remaining three whispered as she entered. Claire cleared her throat, “I’d like to clear something up–” she eyed Allison, who looked remorseful. 

Claire explained what a coming-out party was and that hers would be similar to a Cotillion or Debutante Ball. It was more for show and had nothing to do with Claire being passed off to some guy for marriage. It was a networking event and an introduction to many rich and powerful people from Chicago and the surrounding areas. It wasn’t an auction for Claire, nor would anything bad happen to her. 

John came in around this time and returned to his original spot, listening to Claire speak but not really hearing her. He was a million miles away, thinking of the possibilities and trying to understand the girl in front of him. Intense eyes stared over the top of his coffee cup at Claire as he sipped. 

Claire continued to elaborate, explaining that it was just a party and how most of the girls she knew and her female cousins had already had theirs. She would have had her party when she first turned sixteen, but the timing didn’t work out. So, she would have one this year instead. 

Everyone seemed to visibly relax, and after they asked a few more questions, the conversation moved from fear to curiosity. Claire was happy to share everything she knew with them. John was still watching her as she talked, noticing the excitement in her eyes and how she gushed about what her dress might look like. 

It was then he realized that not everything about Claire’s life upset her, and her words to him when they had been in the auditorium about liking to plan parties and help set up and design them were the truth. She was now talking about colors and flower arrangements with Allison, who listened intently while Andy and Brian began packing their things. 

What did she mean by that bullshit….was she talking about sex, or…was she talking about love…no way she loves me…not like I….not as strongly as I…rich men pay for sex….could they pay for love? What is she giving me for free? Was it a joke….does she love me… 

Does she….love me? Does someone love me? She just agreed to stay with me for a whole month…I have Claire all to myself for an entire month…and a lot can happen in a month…

John was pulled from his thoughts when he realized they were all getting ready to leave and he then remembered he had nowhere to go except–

Fuck…I have detention today….I gotta go…I miss those, and they can kick me out….fuck…not Vernon…I can’t deal with that ass hole today…fuck me. 

He would probably have to head over to Jake’s after detention to see if he could earn more money helping with the bikes. If he could get a small chunk of change, he could try to go back to the surplus store and–

“Hey, what about Bender?” Andy asked suddenly, and all of them stopped what they were doing and looked at him. John snorted, “What about Bender?” 

Andy rolled his eyes, “Don’t be a smart ass, who can take him tonight?” Andy asked, looking at the remaining three, and John grunted, “Shut up, jockstrap; I’m not a fucking dog; I’ll be fine right here. I have detention anyway, which I’m already late for. I’ll just walk to the school, and when Vernon’s done busting my balls, I’ll just come back here or go to my buddy Jake’s. Gotta get some green and cash.” 

“Oh, right…I forgot about that.” Claire said softly, looking at him worriedly and recalling he’d racked up about two month's worth of Saturdays last weekend. 

“We better get him over there.” Claire said as she finished putting her boots on and grabbed her coat, “Ain’t no skin off my back. He’ll just give me another one, and I’ll be fucked until the end of May.” 

“Speaking of Vernon–” Claire started, and the group was ready to go, not bothering to pick up their discarded trash or take any food or drink with them. They all wanted it left here in case Bender needed to come back. Any food left could tide him over until more could be procured. 

As they exited the shack, Claire said, “Remember how Vernon called me into the office the other day?” 

“Yeah?” Andy said, and John looked at her, having no clue Vernon had done such a thing, “Well, I managed to talk him out of calling our parents…I was worried if he did, it would make things ten times worse for John…and…I didn’t say anything that would explain why…not really–” Claire offered as she looked at John, the taller boy giving her a soft glare. 

“But…he did promise to let our skipping slide.” 

“How’d you manage that?” Brian asked in shock as they all walked along the sandy shore heading towards the deer trail that led back to the road, ‘Well, uhm….it’s just…he noticed that this last week John has been behaving better–” Claire started only to hear John whisper a soft, “The fuck?” 

“So…he made a deal with me….I guess the essay you wrote had an impact–” she said, looking at Brian, who seemed surprised, “if John doesn’t cause any more problems this year...o-or next…” and she met her boyfriend's eyes, dark orbs sharp and narrow, “He wouldn’t suspend John. But he only agreed to that, no passes;…he said…if John makes one more mistake… one more fuck up….if he bad mouths a teacher or damages any school property….he’s out. Permanently.” 

The group stopped walking when John fell behind and stood there, staring at her with wide eyes, “Are you fucking kidding me!? Jesus, Claire! What the fuck were you thinking!”

Claire bit back softly, “I was thinking about what might happen to you if he called your dad and suspended you–” 

“So you make a deal on my behalf with fuck head Vernon!? How the hell am I supposed to keep a promise I didn’t even make!” John shouted, to which Claire would respond, but Andy stepped between them, holding hands to either side as he looked at John and said softly, “The same way you made it through this week. You stick with us ; when you get upset, you come to us; when you need to talk, you talk to us. Leave your jerkwad comments at the door, and when school is over, we will be there if you need to let loose.” 

John gave Andy a defiant stare, eye twitching a little as he seemed to be contemplating what to say, but Andy continued, “You can do this, dude. You’ve been given a second chance… Vernon is giving you a second chance…you want to blow it?”   

John studied his face only for Claire, Allison, and Brian to give small comments of encouragement suddenly. 

“You can do it, dude.” 

“We got you.” 

“You got this.” 

He wanted to tell them to fuck off; he wanted to say to them he wasn’t a sheep and wouldn’t conform…he wanted to tell them he was just too damn tired to care. Still, then he looked at Claire, an image of Brant’s fucking ugly face flashing in his mind's eye, before considering how much could happen in a month….what they could do, how they could hang out, how John could touch her….and….love her….for a whole god damned month….

John sighed as he gave a reluctant nod, murmuring as he walked through them all to take lead as they all fell in line behind him, “Gotta build a speed racer, gotta keep assholes off my girlfriend, gotta go to some dumb ball, and gotta be nice to Vernon…no one is nice to me but, Jesus, gotta be a “good” kid, jesus christ, what the fuck is my life turning into, god damn shit stain sOcIeTy making me perform like a fucking toy for them to laugh at, mother fuckers–” 

The four people behind him listened to his mumbled rant, smiling or trying to hide their smiles as they followed him through the woods. 

Page break 

John had Claire drop him off at school several yards away from the door so Vernon wouldn’t see her car. She’d given him a hurried kiss and told him to try to relax and just get through the day. John made no promises but did give a half-hearted nod. She had dug into her back seat, pulled out a spiral notebook, and shoved a pencil, a bottle of water, and a bag of chips into his hand. He stuffed them in his coat pocket. 

She gave another kiss before kicking him out of the car and leaving; John waited for her to clear the corner before he took off, running towards the school and jumping up the stairs. Movement caught his eye, and he looked up to see Vernon standing there, arms crossed and a brow raised, which made John trip on the last step. He fell but caught himself before he could face-plant, feeling a hand grab his arm to slow his fall and steady him. 

John sighed softly, fighting every urge to rip his arm out of Vernon’s hold and yell at the man not to touch him. It was hard; his gut instinct was to always keep other people from touching or grabbing him, but now, he had to play nice. So he swallowed, pushing down his instant reaction of ‘get off me,’ and slowly stood, allowing the man to help him up. 

Vernon didn’t release John’s arm, and John looked up at him. Their eyes met, and Vernon’s frustrated expression softened. Not into kindness, but as if some kind of realization occurred to him, no doubt John’s bruising catching his attention, his tired eyes subtly jumping all over John’s face. 

“Thanks.” John managed softly through gritted teeth, eyes closing as he tried to keep his temper under control and managed to add without snark, “Sorry I’m late…I…uh…I’m staying at a friend's place for a while, so it’s further than I thought it won’t happen again–” John thought he had done well, trying to imagine what Andy or Brian might say, a way to defuse the frustration without meeting Vernon’s anger with his own. 

The man cleared his throat softly, releasing John’s arm and running a hand over his mouth before asking reluctantly, “You hurt?” 

“Like you fucking ca–” John’s instant response was to sass him, but he stopped himself, biting his lip, which shocked him because it was still healing. He cursed and looked down, bringing fingers to his lip to ensure it wasn’t bleeding before saying, “No, sir.” He nearly had to force the ‘sir’ out and felt his whole body tingle with discomfort at being so respectful to Vernon. 

Their gaze met again, Vernon studying him with narrow eyes, and John felt his heckles rise; he wanted to scream at the man and ask him what the fuck he thought he was looking at, only for Vernon to sigh and say softly, “Yeah, never hurt when my old man belted me, either. You just walk it off, right?”

John’s poker face folded, eyes going wide as his mouth twitched. His heart gave several hard pounds as his stomach twisted sharply, and he swallowed the bile rising in his throat. 

Vernon was still studying him, seeing John’s face visibly pale as he tried to fight the urge to run away. He couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t get him in trouble. He couldn’t tell the man to fuck off, couldn’t ask him to mind his own business, couldn’t say anything….his desire to be with Claire had his back against a wall, so he just looked down and gave a soft, “Yeah. I walk it off all the time.” he grabbed the handle to the door, pulling it open. Vernon reached above him to push it open further before following John inside. 

Page Break 

Vernon walked next to Bender, his mind trying to figure out what to do. There were rules in place for this kind of stuff. There were numbers to call, people to alert, and a system ready and willing to take kids needing rehoming. He’d been skeptical when Standish had spoken to him the other day, but now, seeing John’s face and the mild limp to his walk, not to mention his rusty attempts at being respectful, Vernon had no choice but to accept the truth, a truth he had somehow missed the last two years. 

He's sweet and nice and gentle and caring and would do anything for his friends! He's loyal, smart, and funny! 

Vernon ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek, John knowing the way to the library by heart. Their routine was so commonplace now that it was more of the same. 

He's...he's more than what he looks like! He's not just a criminal! He just needs real friends! He needs stability! He needs us! He's our friend now! 

He had considered the idea of Standish just being smitten, swept up in Bender’s bad boy persona, that he had spun some story that won her sympathy, painted himself as the hero in some tragic tale of woe and heartache. But her defense of Bender had been so sincere it had caused Vernon to doubt himself, to doubt that this was all some messed up game the boy next to him was playing to try to get laid. 

Then, of course, he had heard the rumors. While most of the teachers at this school didn’t put much stock into the rumors that constantly flowed in and out of the halls like some mad ocean tide, they did listen. They had to. It was hard to avoid when most teenagers talked loudly, even when they were whispering. Notes that were intercepted during class, random notebooks left behind, cruel pranks played….the teachers knew most of it. The current rumors had indicated Standish was just using him to piss off her parents. 

However, none of it added up after his conversation with the girl in his office. She was just too dedicated for it to be something as petty as ticking off her parents. And Bender’s behavior had genuinely improved; Vernon had followed up on what Standish had said, checking in with all of John’s teachers only to find some semblance of agreement that John had behaved all week and had not caused any troubles. Mr. Gauff’s report that John had shown up to the gym with Clark and Johnson and lifted weights had surprised even Vernon. 

And we aren't going to let you, his parents, or anyone else hurt him anymore! Even if that means cutting class so he can get some rest away from his asshole dad!

Not to mention, Standish quickly put her neck on the line for Bender, willing to take all the punishment, whatever it may be.

Please...I'll take full responsibility. It was my fault. It was my idea. I'll serve as many detentions as you want; you can suspend me. Everything was my idea.

It’s one thing if she was pretending to like him or if she was using him for whatever dumb teenage ploy she was trying to accomplish. But if that were the case, she wouldn’t have wanted to save him. This inevitably led Vernon back to the idea that Bender had somehow wrapped Standish around his finger. He had twisted the truth so much that she believed he was some victim when, in truth, he was probably using her for drug money. 

He just...needed a safe place. He needed to sleep...please...don't get him in any more trouble...it's not...it's not safe for him...Please, Mr. Vernon.

There is no way Bender was any kind of victim…he didn’t show the typical signs of abuse…well…in some regards, he did. His disregard for rules and his attitude and issues with authority could indicate some sort of problem at home. But that could also be linked to drug use, and that is always what Vernon thought because Bender smelled like weed and cigarettes most days. 

It’s not safe for him….

Bender had never shown up to school with a busted face, and he’s never shown any other signs of outside trauma. While Vernon knew (primarily due to the school’s forced child endangerment classes they had to take each year during teacher’s institute) there were other signs of abuse besides bruises, why would he suddenly show up now with a busted face to school? He could have gotten into a fight, rode a bike into a tree, fallen out of a window, and any number of jackass stunts could have caused the marks. If it were due to one of his parents, they would know how stupid it would be for Bender to go to school. Abusers tended to hide their actions, and not allowing their kids to go to school with evidence of their misconduct was one of the most common. 

“Hey Rich, just thought you should know, Bender had another absence, the third day in a row…” 

“Jesus, do his parents just not care? Kid won’t be able to graduate if this keeps up.” 

“Joy, an extra year of Bender.” 

Sorry I’m late…I…uh…I’m staying at a friend's place for a while, so…it’s further than I thought…it won’t happen again…

He’s not under their roof, they can’t keep him home from school, so their handy work is all over his fucking face. 

The worst part was that Vernon knew firsthand the damage a belt can do. He hadn’t been trying to trick Bender when he commented on the school's steps about his own father. There was a slice on Bender’s forehead that most would think was just a nasty cut, but Vernon knew a slice like that usually came from the buckle. 

Vernon’s expression darkened; his once bright desire to care for his students, now only a smoldering pile of embers, seemed to flicker to life for just a moment. Vernon thought: the hell with it ; even if I tried to talk to or help him, he’d freak out like always. He only has a year left before he’s eighteen, then they can’t do shit or make him stay with them. I report this now, and his entire life is uprooted, wholly shot. No more stability, no more Breakfast Club…

Corporal punishment was nothing new, and Vernon’s generation had grown up with it. But nowadays, it is frowned upon, especially regarding children and teenagers. Vernon was not necessarily against spanking or a few sound clips to the ass with a belt or switch, but there was a difference between disciplinary action and beating a child. Bender himself was a shining example of what kids who were beaten could turn into, especially if their nature was inherently gentle. They wouldn’t lash out at those who were supposed to love them but at those with no close relation. Hate the teacher instead of the parent; after all, no matter what, a child will always love their parents, even if the love they feel is from a conflicting and septic place.  

He’s sweet and nice and gentle….

Vernon eyed Bender again, looking at his posture, ratty clothing, and tired, defeated expression. Some kids could handle harsher punishments; hell, some kids could be abused most of their childhood and still somehow manage to come out of it relatively okay and functional. Vernon had been one of those, able to leave it all behind without a second thought when he turned eighteen. He never looked back, went on to college, got the right job, and bought a house. His temper was rough, but he was a fully functional adult…at least…he felt he was. But some kids….some kids who didn’t have the right mental bearing, couldn’t compartmentalize, couldn’t forget….it would haunt them the rest of their lives. In turn, they found booze, drugs, and a lifetime of trouble. 

Just like Nicky… Bender always reminds me of Nicky…of failure…of my failure…Bender is just like Nicky….

Vernon knew what he was legally required to do, who to call, and what paperwork to fill out…he could do it right now; the investigation would start, and Bender would be gone before the week was over, mainly if the kid talked…but unfortunately, Bender was never one to speak when asked. 

They came to a stop outside the library, and John sighed softly, looking at the open door unimpressed,
“Fixed the door, I see. Glad you had an extra screw–” John looked back at him and gave a small wicked smile, only this time, instead of snapping at him, Vernon smirked, “Don’t worry, I’ll pick up the 75 cents you owe the school when you get your first job.” 

Bender’s wicked smile faded into annoyance as Vernon said softly, “Head inside; I’ll be there in one second; best be in your seat, punk.” 

“I know the drill,” John said, though the fire in his words just wasn’t there. 

Vernon went into his office and dug back through his filing cabinet, pulling out the essay left for him to read the Saturday before. He skimmed it, thinking about how it could help him. He glanced out of his office and saw the open library door. Carl had finally fixed it, and nothing indicated it had been messed with again. 

Vernon leaned on the open drawer, his mind hesitating to even try and get involved, but seeing the kid's face, knowing everything was clear as day, if he didn’t at least try to make an effort and reach out…

Why the hell would I trust you, Dick …

Vernon heard Bender’s voice in his head; it sounded accusatory and got Vernon thinking back to last Saturday and of a particular moment in his office's closet… 

That’s the last time Bender….that’s the last time you ever make me look bad in front of those kids, do you hear me? I make 31,000 dollars a year, and I’ve got a home, and I’m not about to throw it away on some punk like you….but someday, someday when you're out of here, and you forgot all about this place, and they’ve forgotten all about you, and you’re wrapped up in your own pathetic life…I’m going to be there….that’s right….and I’m going to kick the living shit out of you, man, I’m going to knock your dick in the dirt! 

You threatening me?

What are you going to do about it? Huh? Do you think anybody is going to believe you? Do you think anybody is going to take your word over mine? I’m a man of respect around here; they love me around here; I’m a swell guy. You’re a lying sack of shit, and everybody knows it. 

Vernon tried to remember what John’s face looked like and how he had responded to Vernon’s threats and goading. He hadn’t; Bender had been staring off someplace far away until Vernon threatened to find him years later. Then his far-away expression came back, a look of disbelief, and he remembered that quiet question, so soft and Bender’s voice cracking. You threatening me? 

No one will believe you…

“Jesus–” Vernon whispered as he rubbed his eyes regretfully. How many times had Bender heard that threat before? No one will ever believe you…

Bender had been pushing him all day, trying to find ways to humiliate and distract and piss him off. He couldn’t just sit down and shut up; he always had to appear in control. He acted like he couldn’t back down that the world would end if he did. He had to be correct, Vernon had to be wrong, and he had to ensure Vernon knew it. Whenever Vernon gave the other kids attention, Bender found a way to redirect him…

Redirect my anger and authority away from the other kids….towards him…. Jesus fucking Christ… we missed it…we all fucking missed it. We wrote him off…we should have done better…I should have done better….fuck me. 

Soft voices came to his ear, and Vernon shut the cabinet drawer and headed across the hall, standing out of the line of sight and hearing Carl’s voice speaking softly. 

“Hell of a face you got on, Bendy boy; what have you been up to?” 

There was no response from Bender for a long moment, and Carl continued, “Get in a fight with a snow blower?” 

John groaned as he said softly, “Not today, man, I’m tired as fuck, and my head is killing me, and Vernon’s about to ream my ass hard for being late. Can we shoot the shit Monday?”  

“Yeah, sure, sure, I get it. We aren’t rainbows and sunshine all the time…oh…by the way before I go…that little ghoulish friend of yours, uh..what’s her name…oh, Reynolds–” 

There is another long silence before John says somewhat nervously, “Yeah? What about her?” 

“I caught her going through the student files in the basement…looking for your address. Said something about you being in trouble…got me wondering.” 

“Look, I don’t know anything about that, but just leave Allison out of whatever idea you got in your head. She’s a good kid; she’s not…like me.” 

“Uh-huh, I know. That’s what got me wondering. Reynolds isn’t the type to make waves, a quiet girl like her; it’s her mission to disappear, so why is she putting her neck on the line for you…unless…you were in trouble like she said, said you didn’t want them looking for you….didn’t want them around your dad…something going on you want to talk about?” 

There was another long silence before Vernon heard a sharp raspberry, and John scoffed, “Come on man, stop busting my balls; ain’t nothing going on—just a shit life with shit parents and a shit face. Not your fucking business.” 

“Alright, you’re right, not my business, but ya know…you keep too much to yourself, someday you may explode.” 

Vernon heard Carl heading his way. Soft footfalls on the carpet got closer, and he heard John murmur, “Too late.” 

Carl exited the library and stopped at the sight of him, leaning closer and saying, “I know you hate the kid, but cut him some slack today; if my old man roughed me up like that, I’d be an asshole too.” 

Vernon said nothing as Carl walked down the hall, broom in hand and head shaking back and forth in disbelief. Something had to be done, but who would say the correct course of action? He should have made the call, but something was stopping him…something just didn’t feel right anymore…he had been so confident he knew Bender’s game, knew what type of kid he was…knew he was just another burnout soon-to-be junkie…that he didn’t care….had no ambition…another wasted youth that would only regret it when it was too late. 

Just like my brother….

Vernon let out another long sigh, fingers rubbing against his brow sharply before he entered the library. He found Bender sitting alone; no other students received a Saturday detention this week. Which meant it was just them, and while Vernon was reluctant to engage with a kid as hopeless as Bender, this might be his only opportunity to get the kid alone and try to pry an answer out of him….there were no other students for him to perform for, no other kids to defend or rally, no one but them and Vernon knew if there wasn’t an audience Bender tended to mellow out. Vernon had one chance; he couldn’t waste it…He'd make the call once Bender left for the day if he didn’t figure out what felt off. 

“Looks like it’s just you and me today,” Vernon said as he approached the table Bender was at; the young man raised his face from his arms, looking tired, “Any chance you’d just let me sleep then, dick ? Shit…uh….Mr. Vernon…sir?” 

“Knock it off, Bender. Your ability to speak respectfully never existed, and I won’t make you perform for my benefit.” 

John let out a sigh of relief, “Thanks, Dick.” 

“Standish inform you of the deal?” he asked calmly, though his voice was still firm. 

John gave him a rough look but said bitterly, “Yeah.” 

Vernon looked at him, eyes sharp as he said, “Good, then while I’ll let some of that respect slide today, I still expect you to show common courtesy and respect to everyone else. You make Mrs. Morris cry again, and you’re done. Got me?” Vernon asked; though his tone was stern, his voice was soft, and he did not raise it nearly as quickly as last Saturday. 

John gave a lazy two-finger salute as he chewed on his cheek, “Scouts honor, but to be fair…I wasn’t trying to make her cry.” 

“No?” Vernon questioned. 

John stared at him momentarily before he swallowed and said, “No. I was trying to catch the frog that got out of the box during class… I didn’t mean to step on it.” 

“Oh? And you touching her chest was just an accident, yeah?” Vernon pushed lightly. 

“Well…yes and no…when I stepped on the frog…which was an accident…I slipped and fell into her breasts, sir, and I figured since no one would believe that it was an accident…I figured I might as well–” he made a lewd gesture with his hands, honking them and then giving a slow twist. 

“And the TV?” Vernon asked, choosing to ignore the blatant sexual assault Bender had just admitted to. The teen sighed, his bruised face rolling up to the ceiling, “She shoved me off, sir, and I fell right into the TV stand, knocking it over and shattering the screen.” 

Vernon stared at him, Bender’s hands moving across his desk as his feet bounced, and his eyes looked everywhere but at Vernon. His being sincere just now did not belay that everything he said sounded utterly ridiculous. But this moment gave Vernon another idea, “Don’t move.” 

Bender just saluted again, looking at the table and continuing to chew on his cheek. Vernon re-entered his office and opened his filing cabinet, digging through and finding Bender’s most recent file, filled with transgressions. 

He returned to the library, grabbed a chair, and sat across from Bender, who eyed him wearily, “You gonna yell at me again?” Vernon stopped what he was doing; the file held half open as Bender said, “Cause I’m not up for our usual playful banter on account of getting in a fight with a snow blower.” he motioned to his face, and Vernon said tightly, “Yeah? Me neither.” 

Bender studied him a moment before rolling his eyes and looking away, “What incredible adventure have you got planned for me today, Dick. ” 

Vernon once again let Bender’s favorite nickname for him go, trying to keep his temper even as he pulled out a page and said, “Your personal file.” 

That got Bender’s attention. The troubled teen looked from him to the file and then out into the library, his eyes flicking quickly back and forth in thought before he asked, “Why did you get my file?” 

“Because I can. And because something isn’t adding up.” 

“What?” Bender asked, his soft voice reminiscent of that day in the closet. He was not timid, so much as confused as he was trying to process what was happening because it wasn’t what he had expected.  

Vernon giving anything other than venom to him seemed to make John highly uncomfortable, giving Vernon an edge he had never had before when dealing with the pain in the ass before him. 

Okay…so…maybe, what? Build on that? Get him off balance ... keep him guessing…stay calm no matter what bullshit he pulls….

“Ah, right here, right before break…you got punished with a Saturday detention…actually…it was last Saturday's detention, which you served ... let's see…you were caught in the girl’s restroom, messing with the…feminine item box…trying to jimmy the lock… Rhonda Swaid was in there with you; why?” 

John stared at him, his brow furrowing before Vernon pushed, “Well?” 

John made a face of disbelief before he said matter-of-factly, “The damn box was broken; she asked me if I could open it.” 

“She asked you? Not Carl or one of the female teachers?” 

John sighed, “I don’t know what to tell you, V-man; she came out of the bathroom, saw me at my shitty locker, and asked me to help her. I thought she was making a pass at me…” Bender seemed to fade out momentarily, his eyes showing how he was rethinking the situation. 

“Now that I think about it…it was dumb…Rhonny has a guy…she wouldn’t even consider–” he trailed off again, staring at the floor before clearing his throat and saying, “She wanted to know if I had my tool kit from shop class. I didn’t. Mrs. shrill bitc—…Uh, I mean… Mrs. Marks walked in three seconds later, thinking I was harassing Rhonny.” 

“That’s all?” Vernon asked as Bender shook his head shamefully and sighed, “All that drama, and she didn’t even give me a thank you.” 

Vernon ignored that and grabbed another paper, “And the damage to Sam Reed's car?” 

John looked at him, “He’s an asshole,” his tone indicating that Vernon should already know this, “That’s it? You scratched another student's car because he’s an asshole?” 

Bender rolled his eyes, “No, I scratched his car ‘cause he groped one of the cheerleaders and made her feel like shit; she gave me twenty bucks to do it. But clearly, he’s also an asshole!” John said, his voice rising a little. 

“You damaged a car for twenty bucks?” Vernon asked in disbelief, and John’s angry eyes turned to look at him as he said softly between clenched teeth, “I was hungry, Dick.” 

“What? No food at home?” Vernon questioned sarcastically, trying to get information without Bender catching on to his aim. 

Bender hesitated before he rolled his bottom jaw a little and said matter-of-factly, “Nope.” 

“Why didn’t you report the situation to a teacher?” Vernon asked. 

John leaned forward and gave him a dead-eyed stare, “Who the fuck would believe me? I’m just a lying piece of shit, remember? And a burnout. And a freak. A criminal, the list goes on…choose your favorite. Everyone has their special noun for me.”

“The graffiti in the hallway?” Vernon asked, glancing at another form, and John sighed, “What’s the point of this, Dick ? Are you trying to trick me into admitting to all my crimes? Oh, the humanity, a tampon thief and accidental boob grabber–” 

“Answer the question,” Vernon barked. 

“Some dude wrote some shit about Mrs. Morris, I felt bad about the whole booby grab thing, so I tried to paint over it!” John yelled as he threw his hands in the air before slamming them down on the table and saying, “Are we done?” 

“Not by a long shot,” Vernon said right back. 

John shoved back from the table and stood, walking to the table across the aisle and sitting on top of it, legs crossed and fingers threaded together, “How about you leave me the fuck alone, Dick . We’re all alone, no one to dance for; let me fucking sleep so you can pretend to care about someone else.”

Vernon’s jaw clenched before he stood and walked right up to John, who leaned back, eyes wide as he turned his face to the side a little, “How about you explain to me why you’re here?” 

“What? What the fuck do you mean? I’m here for detention.” John made a face of amusement as he batted his eyes, “Getting tired of me already?” 

Vernon leaned closer, his hands coming to the corner of the table as he glared at John, “All of these incidents could have been explained away; all of these explanations make some semblance of sense, which means–” Vernon caught himself because he was raising his voice again and he knew he needed to do better. Bender responded to anger with anger; he responded to hostility with more hostility, and he responded to authority with rebellion. Vernon had to try to avoid the emotions that set Bender off. 

He closed his eyes, looking down a moment and trying to think before he reestablished eye contact with the confused kid before him and said in a slightly softer but firm voice, “You didn’t speak up for yourself; you let everyone else decide what happened, and you got detentions, write-ups, temporary suspensions…you’re record is littered with blame that isn’t meant for you, mister.” 

John’s eyes were wide now; he swallowed thickly, and Vernon realized Bender, for once, didn’t have anything to say. 

Vernon continued, “And since I highly doubt you’d go along with taking the blame for everyone else’s misdeeds out of the kindness of your heart, and I know you don’t have any particular love for me , that only leaves one option…you’d rather be here then somewhere else .” 

John’s mouth opened and then shut, his dark eyes searching Vernon’s face, but Vernon didn’t budge an inch. John let out a soft huff as he leaned closer, their noses nearly touching as Bender said in a calm voice that unnerved the older man, “Don’t flatter yourself, Dick . I’d rather be dead than be anywhere at all.” 

Vernon didn’t back up, though, as he countered with a matter-of-fact, “You’d throw your life away before admitting the truth. I can respect that, but we both know why you’re fucking here, smart-ass. And it isn’t because you love getting under my skin. Of all the safe places you could go, I bet this school is one of what…two or three other places?” 

John let out a growl as he spun his body to slide off the table and move away from the man. Vernon won that round of verbal sparring, but the satisfaction wasn’t there. 

“What? Not feeling up for a fight?” Vernon asked. 

John had been halfway down the aisle before he turned back quickly and said, “Leave me alone, man. You’re pissing me off. You don’t know shit, so you might as well eat it. Fuck off.” 

Vernon sighed, a hand coming to his mouth in thought as he watched Bender walk toward the back of the library, clearly disobeying the rule of not leaving the sitting area. But Vernon couldn’t be bothered; he knew Bender wouldn’t leave because where else would he go? Clearly, Standish had explained the deal she had made with him, or Bender wouldn’t have tried to be respectful or polite. Half-assed as it was, he had made an attempt, which meant, somewhere in that screwed-up head, he wanted to try…Bender wanted the second chance Vernon had given him, and Vernon figured he shouldn’t stand in the way of Bender’s pathetic but honest attempts.  

He shook his head, picking up Bender’s file from the table and moving to sit at the Librarian’s desk near the front of the room. He removed his jacket, sat down, and kicked his legs on the desk. His eyes glanced again to the back of the library, a hint of Bender’s movement just past that ugly abstract statue, and he didn’t even consider forcing him to return to his seat. All the other doors were locked, and he could see Bender if he tried to go upstairs. So, he turned his focus to Bender’s file and began to sort through the last year and a half of Bender’s conduct at the school.  

Page Break 

Andy was surprised to see Brian walk into his dad’s store, but he didn’t hesitate to approach him. The blonde teen looked incredibly lost, his head swiveling as he took in the decently sized store, all the shelves and products, and the taxidermy animals displayed across the upper walls; he looked mildly shocked and impressed. 

He had just passed a gun cabinet and stopped to stare at the shotguns on display when Andy approached. “Hey Brain, what’s up?” Andy asked. The gangly youth looked at him and gave an apologetic smile. “Hey, uh, sorry to just walk in, but I’m kind of on a time crunch. I need to buy some stuff.” 

“Oh, okay, well, what are you looking for?” Andy asked, and Brian continued to look around as he said absentmindedly, “A cooler, a five-gallon water container, a five-gallon bucket, a basic gas camping stove, cheap if possible…oh, and some of those freeze-dried dinners!” Brian said the last part as if he had just remembered, and Andy gave him an odd look. Brian finally met his eye and smiled, “Oooookay, well, I think we have most of that stuff, but I don’t know how cheap our camping stoves are.” 

“It’s okay. I brought all my money, everything I’ve earned this year and last from tutoring; I can figure something else out if the camp stove is too expensive, but I need everything else.” 

Andy nodded and motioned for Brian to follow him, “What the hell are you buying all this stuff for? Are you going camping with your dad or something?” 

“Pfft, as if…” Brian said under his breath as he continued to look at all the random hunting stuff they had on display, “What are you getting it for then?” Andy asked again as he stopped in the camping aisle, motioning to some of the items Brian was looking for casually while he waited for an answer. 

Brian looked at him and said rather conspiratorial, “I may have figured out where to stash Bender.” 

“What do you mean? I figured he’d just stay at the bridge for now. He didn’t seem in a hurry to find a new place.” 

Brian hesitated before itching a cheek and said nervously, “Well, yeah, but…it’s freezing at night, and this summer will be wicked hot. Not to mention, it’s like a thirty-minute walk to school from there through his neighborhood where his folks live. He goes around, and it’ll add, like…twenty minutes. There is no bathroom and no way to store food or cook. You saw his shelves; it's all canned corn and baked beans.” 

Andy considered Brian’s words, seemingly never considering the logistics of Bender staying under the bridge. It was clear he had been doing it for a long time, and he probably had a lot of the semantics worked out because of that, but Brian did have a point.

“I mean, come on, staying there made sense when he didn’t have anyone to rely on, but he has us now. Are we his friends if we don’t try to help him figure something out?” 

Andy agreed with him but leaned closer as he asked softly, “Sure, I get it, but come on, man, what are you going to do? Pay ten bucks a night for a camping spot at the lake?” 

Brian laughed lightly before he leaned in and said, “I have the perfect spot, but I need to get it ready, and I’ll have to move him in once my parents are asleep.” 

An odd look crossed Andy’s face, but he didn’t say anything more, simply reaching out to grab a medium-sized box that held a camping stove before handing it to Brian and motioning for the blonde boy to follow. 

They had collected everything plus a few extras they came across at the last minute, and as they approached the front counter, Brian saw Allison sitting on a stool near it and drawing serenely on a sketch pad. 

Andy helped Brian get all the stuff on the counter and gave a smile to Allison as he rounded it and began to ring it all up, “I thought you were going to the Library.” 

Allison motioned with her dirty shoe to her big bag of everything, and Brian saw several larger art books sticking out of it. 

“Cool.” Brian smiled before returning to Andy and saying, “What’s the damage?” 

“Hold on; the stove won’t scan. Give me one sec; let me grab the binder.” Andy ducked below the counter before struggling to bring a massive binder filled with scan codes into view and beginning to search. 

Allison had been watching only to ask curiously, “What are you doing?” 

Brian leaned against the counter, crossed his arms, and looked at her, “I think I got a place where Bender can stay permanently, but I need to set it up first to ensure it’ll work.” 

“Oh,” Allison whispered, staring at Brian affectionately before he looked back to the pile. Her brow furrowed, “Where’s the stuffed animal?”

Andy looked up from the scan book with confusion; Brian was also stumped by the random question, “Stuffed…animal? What do you mean?” 

Allison pursed her lips a moment before glancing at Andy and saying, “I thought the secret was most guys had some kind of stuffed animal. They just don’t tell anybody.” her tongue clicked against her teeth as dark and amused eyes looked at Andy. 

Andy’s cheeks were three shades of red as he cleared his throat, looked back at the binder, and began to search, though it was clear he was too flustered to read the book. 

Brian continued to go between the two before he stood and walked over to a nearby shelf, grabbing a medium-sized toy lion off the dog toy rack and setting it on the pile. 

Allison was still staring them both down, an evil smirk spread across her lips, eyes flicking between them as Brian leaned closer to Andy, who leaned down as Brian whispered, “Dude, you showed her your stuffed animal?” 

Andy looked surprised by that comment. He said, “You have an old stuffed toy, too?” 

“No!” Brian hissed, which left Andy stunned and embarrassed before Brian said, “But even if I did, I wouldn’t show it to my freakin’ girlfriend, even I know that!” 

Andy swallowed and cleared his throat again, “Right…right…uh…it was an accident, she found it under my bed–” 

Both of them looked at Allison, who was still smiling like a devil, her eyes filled with glee at their whispering, “Uh, Brian?” Andy whispered. 

“Yeah?” 

“You tell Bender, and you’re toast.” 

Brian nodded, glancing back to Allison as he said, “Hey, Andy?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Your girlfriend is scary.” 

“Yeah, I know….” he said matter of factly. 

“You like that about her?” Brian asked. 

“Uh, yes, yes I do–” Andy whispered as if it was a dumb question before adding, “Kind of turns me on, actually.” Brian looked at him, confused, before he looked at Allison, who was drawing again serenely.

Page Break 

Claire sighed wistfully as she looked out the window. Her mother sat across from her, and they ate lunch silently. She didn’t see her mother continually glancing at her over her salad. 

The woman chewed slowly for a moment, following Claire’s gaze out the window of the upscale cafe. Outside was a group of young men walking by, decked out in leather, studs, and extreme hairstyles, smoking cigarettes as they shoved each other and made a playful ruckus. 

They were out of sight seconds later, but Claire sighed as she stared out the window longingly. 

She lightly cleared her throat, and Claire looked back at her before returning attention to her salad, which she picked at with disinterest. 

“So, your father tells me you have a new boyfriend.” 

She saw Claire visibly stiffen; it was subtle, but the question caught her off guard. 

She’ll need to work on that; I can’t have her caught off guard by uncomfortable questions during the party….

“Well?” Her mother asked, a thread of excitement in her voice as she pressed her daughter for information. 

Claire studied her mother, blonde hair slicked and combed and smoothed within an inch of its life to look so sculpted and perfect Claire couldn’t fathom the time and energy needed. Her makeup was immaculate and perfectly toned to her complexion, her nails shiny and the perfect soft color. Her clothes matched everything else about her. She was genuinely beautiful, but the extras just enhanced it all. 

Clarice Standish’s existence was beautifully crafted pain that showed an attempt at perfection that made Claire internally wince when she looked at her. She had stopped comparing herself to her mother long ago, but sometimes it was hard not to feel less than. The woman before her had learned how to present perfection like it was possible and that she, alone, knew the secret. 

Her mother could be beautiful, judgmental, and rigid, but every once in a while, there was a peak of some other woman, somewhere deep, deep down, that would give the barest push, and those singular moments of seeing another person kept Claire coming back.

No, she hadn’t written either of her parents off entirely, but she also knew vulnerability would not work in her favor. And asking for the stars was more realistic than asking for basic consideration. 

Claire carefully chose the following words: "Yeah, I mean yes. I do.”

Her mother studied her carefully, picking up a small amount of salad with the prongs of her fork as she asked, “And what is this young gentleman’s name?”  

The redhead gave her a deer-in-the-headlights stare just a moment before she seemed to make a split-second decision and said, “John…John Bender.”

Claire saw her mother’s sharp gaze rise to look at her, the nearly imperceptible flex of a brow, and then, “What’s his father’s name?” 

“I don’t know…I mean…I haven’t met his parents yet. It’s only been a week.” 

“Ah. Yes, your father did tell me it hadn’t been very long. So, do you at least know what his father does?” 

Claire felt her heart hammering, her stomach sickly as she tried to decide what to do. If she told the truth, her mother would disapprove; if she lied and John found out, he might think she was ashamed of him. She should have talked to him about this first. How much was okay to share? How much did he want to keep secret? 

She was beginning to believe the mean jibes of the other club members, that her using John to get back at her parents was a lie they had just been telling themselves as an excuse. The moment had finally come; she could play her mother off her father and use John as the leverage to do it….but….she didn’t want to. She wanted to deliver a good impression and somehow find a way for her parents to accept him. 

“He…owns his own business…” Claire started, to which her mother nodded approvingly before Claire added, “A towing business.” 

The fork froze halfway to her mother’s mouth, those same sharp eyes popping up to look at her. Claire waited and let out a rather knowing sigh of disappointment when her mother set her fork down without taking a bite. She settled back into her chair, crossing one leg over the other, and slowly cocked her head to the side. 

Claire’s mother took this position when she was about to interrogate. She wanted quick, honest answers, and if she caught Claire in a lie it wouldn’t be good. 

“How old is he?” 

“Seventeen.” 

“Junior, then.” 

“S-Sophmore–” another delicate brow raised, and a pause before she asked, “Grades?” 

“C average in math, A in shop class, I don’t know the rest.” 

“Blue collar.” Her mother said matter-of-factly, and Claire nodded. 

Claire was surprised when her mother asked, “Attractive?” 

Claire studied her mother’s expression for a moment before she looked down at her salad and gave a very soft nod. There was silence for a moment, and Claire couldn’t help but laugh softly as she bit her bottom lip and said, “Brown hair. Long and feathery, just like a model…and these dark eyes…puppy eyes but… hard too….and a jawline to die for….and–” 

“Is he kind?” Claire was pulled from her sudden onslaught of thoughts, realizing she’d gone off and spoken out loud; the question also surprised her, and though she did not understand why her mother cared, she said softly, “Yes.” 

She finally braved a glance up; her mother was still studying her, seeming to be taking all of her in for the first time in her entire life. That’s when Claire saw that flash of someone else, sharp eyes softening, the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. 

Claire’s mother leaned forward and said softly as she picked up her fork, “Tell me more.” 

Page Break 

John looked around, the silence of the library seemingly deafening today. He didn’t know if Vernon was still in the room, but John couldn’t take his mischievous walks through the school if he hadn’t. He knew Vernon’s routine like the back of his hand. Some stupid, meaningless assignment meant to keep him busy for the first hour or two, then coffee break, then bathroom break, then checking in for twenty minutes of lectures and yelling, then back to his office, then shuffling around the school out of boredom. Then lunch, another check-in, some more lecturing, a stop at the water fountain, and another bathroom break, and he was gone until the end of the day. 

The man did the same thing every Saturday, like clockwork. He didn’t change; he didn’t switch it up. His routine was solid. It made it incredibly easy for John to sneak around. They were counterweights to each other; Vernon moved North so John would move South. He needed to be back in the library at specific points during the day for Vernon’s check-ins, but John had his timing down so perfectly he could predict precisely when the man would walk in. 

It’s how he had been able to get the Breakfast Club around the school. He sacrificed himself to save them last Saturday because Jockstrap refused to listen to him, and they veered from the correct path. There was always a risk that John might lose track of time and meet up with Vernon by accident. But when it was just John, it was incredibly easy to avoid him. Having four other people with him had made it a bit more complicated. He’d taken them on a slightly longer tour of the school, showing them things they’d never seen before, like the teacher’s lounge and the area where the teachers smoked between classes. 

It had been stupid, and the delay caused a run-in with Vernon, which had made them scatter to the wind. Once John realized Vernon was several paces ahead of where John had expected him to be, it was like a maze trying to find the spot they were supposed to be in regards to Vernon’s routine. 

He had wanted to impress them, though he wouldn’t admit it to himself or them. When he figured out where Vernon was in his routine and knew they needed to go through the cafeteria, Andy had lost faith and made them go the wrong way. 

But today, Vernon had decided to pay particularly close attention to John, breaking his routine and playing the part of some wannabe Spanish Inquisition. A lot of the things the fuck head had brought up were old news, things from last year or months ago. 

What the hell is that psycho doing…and that fucked up thing he said to me…about his old man. How the fuck did he know what happened….what the fuck did Claire say to him? What the fuck did my girl say to that piece of shit…why did he pull her aside? Why did he corner her? Was he fucking with her? Did he intimidate her? Did he yell at her? 

His temper flared as he sat on the couches, remembering how they had all sat together last Saturday and gotten high…well…except for Smiles. He kind of felt bad now. Her parents were druggies, kind of explained a lot. Would they be considered functioning druggies? She said they always made it to work or whatever…did that mean they didn’t abuse it as severely as other people? 

John let out a long, slow sigh, his mind racing to understand what Vernon was trying to do. John leaned back on the couch, barely able to peer around the statue, and saw Vernon sitting at the librarian's desk, still looking at his file. 

John was surprised that the man hadn’t dragged him back to the main study area, but he hadn’t dared to sneak out yet. It had only been a few hours; he needed to wait longer. He wasn’t following his routine, and doing something different made John incredibly uncomfortable. If he could count on nothing else, he could count on Vernon being the same every single day. 

They had a specific dynamic; they had a particular repertoire. Vernon poked, so John poked back; their verbal fights were the stuff of legends. Sometimes, students and staff could hear them, and John knew this because someone would inevitably poke their head in Vernon’s office to check. 

Vernon would always shake his head, choosing to go against him alone instead of inviting someone else into the argument, and John liked it that way. The man was always focused on him, ready to yell back and engage, and never raised a hand. 

They screamed at each other like it was their job, and no one ever got hurt. It felt good to let off steam, and Vernon always seemed willing to fight. But Vernon also wanted to control him and tried to make him behave, and John took no greater pleasure than when he could disappoint the man or royally piss him off. 

John was good at getting the man’s attention, and Vernon always gave it to him. He pushed and pushed and pushed, but Vernon never laid a hand on him. How far could John push before Vernon would break? John was still trying to figure it out. How close could he get to Vernon’s big red button before he’d go nuclear? 

Hit me, mother fucker…I dare you…

John’s mind then found itself back in that closet, sitting on the desk and staring into space. The closet reminded him of his bedroom, which was small and filled with clutter. Vernon sitting right outside the door at his desk. It wasn’t the first time Vernon had put him in there, but it was the first time Vernon had gone in with him. 

John remembered the man spewing his angry bullshit at him, but at that point in the day, all he could think about was his Cherry. How she had been a tease, how he needed to get back to her…how he would get out of the closet without Vernon seeing him…

But Vernon had stayed and continued to yell to make some point, and that’s when it registered what had happened. He was in an enclosed space with Vernon, with no witnesses, and the closet no longer felt like his bedroom but more like the garage. Vernon was between him and the door, but he was on the inside. 

Suddenly, the man’s angry words started to register, his eyes widening, confusion evident, fear creeping into his stomach. Vernon never came in with him; he put him in the closet and let him sit quietly for the rest of the day. He didn’t bother him, didn’t say a word. Vernon just sat outside and left John in his second bedroom, which was soothing and filled with silence and boredom.  

Sometimes he’d stay pissed off the entire time, kicking things or smacking objects around. Other times, he’d be able to relax and sleep. Sometimes he sat with his back to the door so he could hear Vernon shuffle his papers and mess around with the shit on his desk. He imagined what Vernon was doing to pass the time and smiled at the idea that Vernon was as bored as he was. 

If John was going to be bored, then so was Vernon. But last Saturday, Vernon had changed it up again, coming into the small space, blocking the door, taking their routine of yelling, fighting, and arguing away, denying John the cooling-off period. Getting into his face and….

He threatened me….he’s never done that before…but….the old man wouldn’t do that…he’d never actually hit me…no…he’d lose his job…lose his house….plus….that’s not what we do….he’s too chicken shit to….

John remembered Vernon pulling back his fist and faking a punch, not even getting close to him but moving his body in the jerky manner John knew all too well. John had reacted, still not having faith Vernon would hit him, but giving a mild flinch before Vernon had called him a chicken shit and left. 

John had been confused; he’d thought it was different with Vernon. And then he’d felt confused about why he had thought things were different with Vernon. He knew how adults were, how untrustworthy, and how dangerous they were. But John had sized Vernon up the first day of High School, singling him out as one of the main authority figures, and aside from being a dick, John had not felt particularly worried about him. His first run-in with Vernon had been a warning; the second time also resulted in a warning, but after the third one, Vernon stopped playing, and all traces of leniency disappeared.

The first time Vernon yelled at him, John found himself yelling back out of habit, only to find that the man had not ended the argument violently but simply by giving him a detention. That had intrigued him. 

Most teachers John had dealt with previously usually shoved him off onto someone else or simply expelled or punished him. There had been an old teacher from his grade school who had actively left bruises on him. But after that first detention during his freshman year, Vernon kept a closer eye on him. John found that interesting, too, and made Vernon his public enemy number one. 

They continued to butt heads, but Vernon never passed him off, simply handing out John’s punishments as warranted and resuming their interactions and remaining close by, always watching without saying much. 

And then came the point where John would get in trouble with other teachers, and Vernon would show up and take John away. He wouldn’t let any other teacher give out punishment or deal with him. Vernon would always swoop in, march John to his office, and verbally wail on him. It made John feel special and also rather amused. If Vernon wanted John’s spite, John would have no issue giving it specifically to him. 

And if he wanted to remove John from other teachers just to give him special attention, John would return the favor by focusing all his antics on the old man in front of him. John would never yield, so Vernon would never yield, and John could wait expectantly for the fucker to get him, yell and dish out whatever punishment he cooked up. 

Once again, John leaned back and saw Vernon still at the desk, and this time, Vernon’s eyes glanced up from the pages and met John’s gaze, his narrow look making John lean forward and place his elbows on his knees, a foot bouncing wildly as his fingers threaded together. 

“Come on, you dick, fuckin’ leave–” John whispered to himself before he glanced back towards Vernon, “Or come and get me, Jesus–come get me, you asshole….come one…I’m right here, douchebag…” His head began to shake a little as he took a deep breath and finally stood. He left the couches and ventured out, taking a seat at the table he’d started at and angled himself into the chair, mimicking Vernon’s feet on the desk and crossing his arms, tossing his head to get the hair out of his face as he chewed his cheek and looked directly at Vernon. 

If the man wouldn’t come and get him of his own accord, John would make him…he’d get the man’s attention, and then the day could finally start. 

Page Break 

Vernon saw Bender from the corner of his eye and glanced up to see he had returned to his chair at one of the tables. He’d known the kid would come back. If Vernon didn’t pursue Bender, Bender would always find a way to get his attention. He was curious how long it would take for Bender to come of his little black hole and try to reignite their conversation. The kid didn’t like losing an argument, especially to him.

Vernon glanced at the clock on the wall and realized Bender had managed to wait nearly two hours before he came looking for a fight. Vernon ignored him, seeing what would happen if he didn’t engage immediately. 

There was a snappy comment waiting, something along the lines of, “ decided to come out of hiding? ” but he refrained, curious to see if Bender would willfully engage with him first. 

He could see Bender shuffling a little, then he dropped his feet off the desk loudly with a stomp before staring dead at him, and Vernon swore he could feel Bender’s eye twitching. A few more minutes of silence passed before Bender spoke, and he said, “Don’t you got studying to do, Dick?” 

Vernon smirked as he held up the file folder and said, “Yup, got it right here.” 

The sound of a scoff met his ears before Bender said, “I meant in your office…ass wipe.” 

Again, he ignored John’s language, letting it pass like it was water off his back, and Vernon noticed John stopped fidgeting instantly, staring at him for a very long time in an eerie quiet. 

“Asshole…” 

No response. 

“Dick wad.” 

Vernon ignored him, and John’s voice raised a little, “Faggot!” 

Vernon glanced but didn’t engage, his mind realizing at this moment John wanted his attention. 

He noticed John stand slowly, and when Vernon didn’t say anything, he screamed, “Fuck you!” 

Vernon finally looked up as John grabbed a chair and launched it. It didn’t shatter; it bounced off the statue before hitting a table and sliding off. 

Vernon also noticed how John stood defiant, his eyes angry, as he breathed heavily and glared at the man. At first, Vernon stood but didn’t say anything, and John suddenly screamed, “Yell at me!” 

“What?” Vernon asked, his voice louder than he intended, and John walked up to the desk. Vernon stepped back as John swiped his hands across the top, sending things flying. 

“Come on, Dick! I know you want to! All you assholes want to do is yell at me! I’m an easy target! Just like my folks do, blame me for your problems! I’m the problem, right!? It’s easy: here!” John walked over and stomped hard on the pencil cup, smashing the plastic flat as a pen shot out ink and stained the carpet. 

“Oh no! Look what fucking Bender did! He’s such a shitty fucking person!” John then kicked the plastic file holder and sent papers fluttering through the air as the plastic connected with the door. John turned to look at him, “He must be a jinx! He breaks everything he touches! He’s such a fucking waste of space! Gotta be better than that, Johnny! Gotta stop being such a waste of space!” 

Vernon still said nothing, watching John act out and purposefully misbehave to draw out Vernon’s anger. His face grew red, and his shaking hands picked up a book and flung it across the library. “He’s so destructive! He’s not worth anything! Blame John! It’s all on John! John’s the fucking problem!”

John turned then and stared at him, eyes suddenly looking desperate, and once John’s breathing had calmed a little, Vernon asked, “Are you done?”  

“Fuck you,” his voice cracked as he raised a hand to his forehead. The teen was shaky as he turned to leave, only to stop and think better of it, turning back to the chair he had vacated to stop and decide that was wrong too. He looked back at Vernon and screamed, “Get mad! Yell at me! Do something!” 

Vernon made a decision and crossed his arms, giving a soft but firm “No.” John’s whole body sagged for a moment before his face morphed into one of rage, and he walked towards the back of the library, flipping a table as he went and leaving the mess that was his anger behind. 

Vernon watched him go, and for the first time since he’d started dealing with this kid, he realized precisely why Bender was such a pain in his specific side. He wanted Vernon’s attention, good or bad; it didn’t matter. He wanted Vernon to pay attention to him, interact with him, and communicate with him, even if all of those interactions were negative. 

Vernon looked over to see Carl coming to a stop in the doorway. He looked at the damage, breathing heavily, showing that he had run to the library. 

Vernon’s hands were on his hips, lost for words. Then, he motioned toward the back of the library. Carl glanced between the man’s gesture and Vernon’s face. “What the hell happened? I told you not to fuck with him. He’s a fucking ticking time bomb; what the hell did you say?” 

Vernon made a face of disbelief, “Hey, I didn’t say diddly squat, pal. I kept my temper under control and didn’t respond to any of his bullshit.” 

Carl looked surprised by this, and Vernon just shook his head before saying, “I need to make a call, keep an eye on him–” Vernon started as he left, and Carl tried to protest, “Come on, he’s just a kid, don’t call the cops–”

Vernon motioned for him to be quiet even though they were already speaking under their breath, and Vernon said, “Just keep him here, and don’t engage with him. I just need to make a call.” 

Page Break 

Claire stood on the small platform and looked at herself in the panel mirror, seeing herself from multiple angles and admiring her dress. Throughout the whole process, she wondered which dress John would like best, but ultimately, she chose her favorite. 

It was almost white, with the barest hint of pink, shiny beads, and sequence dripping down from the bodice like a rain shower and drenching the bottom half. It reminded her of snow showers, and how they fit her made her feel like a queen. 

Her mother had helped her put on the elbow-length white satin gloves and slip into her short-heeled white shoes. 

As she looked at herself, she thought of her wedding, someday walking down the aisle in an equally important dress, and her mind tried to imagine an older John, still handsome, still the same dark penetrating eyes, but….happier, more relaxed, and maybe even with shorter hair. 

“What do you think?” The saleswoman asked happily. No doubt this purchase would be extremely good for her commission. 

Claire smiled and gave an enthusiastic nod as she looked at her mother, who seemed very pleased. 

“I think we should make the bodice a little tighter, not too much, but we don’t want anything to pop out,” Clarice said to the saleswoman, who nodded and withdrew a pad and pen from the waistband of her skirt. 

“And maybe see if they would be willing to tapper the beads a bit more, possibly add a little more lift under the skirt. Not too much, but enough to give a nice bell shape.” 

“Yes, ma’am, I’m sure we can have our seamstress make all the modifications.” the woman continued to take notes as Claire’s mother spoke. Still, Claire was far away, looking at her reflection in the mirror and wondering how John’s detention was going. 

Page Break 

Vernon entered the office and beelined to his desk, ripping open the top drawer and shuffling through the mess inside. Most of the time, he was relatively organized, not entirely without mess, but he kept his office and desk clean enough that he didn’t have to dig and search aimlessly for twenty minutes to find a single business card. 

However, the number he was looking for was most likely near the bottom, as he hadn’t needed it in a very long time. He made a noise of success when he found what he was looking for and pulled the card out, reading the name on the front before turning it over to spy the hand-written number. 

He gave a soft smile only for a second, the realization of what he was about to do hitting him hard. His eyes darkened as he looked at the number and then glanced at the door, thinking of Bender and the mess he had just made. He didn’t owe the kid any favors, and Bender was more than happy to make him miserable if it meant standing his ground. But now that Vernon knew the cause, part of him wondered if he could still have an effect. 

Carl hadn’t been entirely off last Saturday when he had called Vernon out over a beer in the school's basement. Vernon had become a teacher for a very specific set of reasons, summers off being one of them. And as long as he did his job well enough and stayed within the lines set by the district, losing his job was next to impossible. 

It was a smooth ride right into retirement; all he had to do was be the main person who dealt with the delinquents—the rule breakers. No one liked doing it, but Richard “the Bull” Vernon had a special skill in getting people to sit down and shut up. He’d learned it from his father and honed it via his brother and a few specific individuals he’d had to deal with throughout his life. 

Bender had been the first instance of a kid rebelling beyond what Vernon could handle. Yet, Vernon was determined to break him and get him to come down from his self-imposed kingdom as Shermer High’s resident troublemaker. 

Vernon had noticed early on that Bender suffered from a lack of impulse control, and most of the time, the ideas that popped into his head were held back by nothing. He lacked discipline, emotional regulation, and respect for anyone in a position of authority, whether they earned that respect or not. 

As Vernon tried to decide what to do and if this was the right call, he felt a small pool of annoyance settle in his stomach. He’d be opening a door into his past that he would rather keep closed, but this could be the best way to get Bender to comply. 

“Fuck it,” Vernon said softly, picking up the phone and dialing the number quickly. As it rang, he toed the door to his office shut, not wanting Carl or Bender to eavesdrop. 

When someone picked up, Vernon’s back straightened, and a soft female voice came to his ear, “Hello, this is Dr. Jill’s office; who, may I ask, is calling?” 

Vernon cleared his throat and tried to sound confident, saying, “Yeah, hi, this is Richard Vernon. I’m calling–” 

“Please hold.” 

Vernon looked at the receiver with confusion, unsure why she had cut him off so quickly, only to hear the phone pick up and a very familiar female voice whisper seductively, “Richard Vernon, you old so and so, where have you been?” 

 Vernon cleared his throat again, trying to keep his tone even and neutral as he said, “Hello, Jillian.” 

“Ah, still on a first-name basis, I’m honored.” 

“Would you knock it off?” Vernon asked as he put a hand on his hip and closed his eyes in frustration, “This isn’t a social call. I need…I mean…I know someone who needs–” 

“Flustered?” she asked with amusement, the mirth in her voice making Vernon stumble as he cleared his throat for the third time and said, “It’s one of my kids.” 

There was a long pause, silence stretching poignantly before Vernon clarified, “One of my kids at School , where I work .” 

“Ah, you never got married; that’s good news.” 

“Jillian–” he bit sharply, and there was a soft sigh as the woman conceded, “What is it, Richard, unless you want to schedule an appointment, I can’t do–” 

“He’s been abused.” Vernon snapped softly, trying to get to the point before Jillian could ramble about policy. 

There was another long pause before all play left her voice, and she said, “Then you are required by law to–” 

“I know what the law says, damn it. That’s not what I am calling about.” Vernon snapped, and Jillian responded calmly, “Then what?” 

Vernon glanced at the door, ensuring it was closed before saying, “Look, I can’t talk long, but I needed your insight, any insight, someone's insight because I’m three seconds from popping the kid myself. He’s out of control, tanking his life because he doesn’t see any future. I assumed it was drugs; I figured he was…like Nicky.” 

There was another long silence before Vernon swore he heard Jillian swallow and say, “Alright, lay it on me. What’s going on? How can I help?” 

Page Break 

Brian stood from his crouched position and took a few steps back, standing next to Allison, looking around with a mystical smile, “Thanks for the help.” Brian said softly, and Allison nodded, “It was either help you or sit at the store for another three hours; this seemed like a better use of my time.” 

Brian and Allison carried all the stuff Brian had purchased to his house, which wasn’t far from Clark’s, carefully getting it all up the ladder in the garage and into the attic. 

They had hung Christmas lights, set up an emergency bathroom, made a mini kitchen, and set up a cot with a pillow and sleeping bag. He’d filled the cooler with water bottles, snacks, and freeze-dried meals. He’d also set up a sudo wash station so John could at least rinse his body. He’s also added a fan to the base of the heat vent so John could blow his cigarette and weed smoke directly out of the house. Brian had even rolled out one of the massive rugs his parents had stored up here to pad Bender’s steps. He wouldn’t be able to have anything like a radio or tv, which sucked, but Brian had loaded up on magazines, puzzle books, regular books, and comic books. 

John only needed this place to sleep and to stay warm. It was also in town, so he could avoid walking through his parent's neighborhood. The fewer chances John’s dad has of catching him, the better. He’d also be right next to Brian’s room. Brian had taken the liberty of cutting a small envelope-sized hole in the wall between the attic and his room so Bender could listen to Brian’s radio or even catch what Brian was watching on his small TV. 

He could put on wrestling for Bender while Brian did homework. Brian could also slip him food and other items, and he’d put his poster of Albert Einstein on the wall to hide the hole for when he wasn’t home. 

It wasn’t ideal, but if they were super careful, this could work for as long as John needed to figure his stuff out. 

“If John can stomach staying here, he might be able to get a job in town and start saving money. Then, when he graduates, he would have something to use to get out of here.” Brian offered. 

Allison looked at him, her witchy eyes sparkling as a soft smile came to her lips, “It’s perfect. I bet he’ll love it. What made you decide to do this?” 

Brian made a face of regret as he ran a hand through his hair and sat down on the cot, and Allison sat next to him, “The other morning, after we found John all…you know–” Allison nodded, “ I was thinking about what he’d been going through. I’d never seen anything like that before, and it…scared me. Like, a lot. He’d said something about it during detention, but…I figured it was probably a one-time thing…or wasn’t as bad as he was saying…” 

Allison waited patiently for him to continue, not judging his words as she studied his regretful expression, “I took a shower, went down for breakfast, and…there was my mom; she’d made breakfast. Dad came down and ate with us. He was running late, but he still made time to sit with us for a few minutes, and I just…my parents can be hard on me, especially regarding my grades. If it’s not straight A’s down the board, if I don’t do precisely what they tell me to do, or if I don’t study until my eyes hurt and my brain is fried, it’s like a death sentence….but even with all of that…yeah, it’s a lot of pressure, and sure…it’s nothing compared to what a lot of you guys have gone through, but I realized my parents are crazy, but they aren’t scary crazy. I realized how lucky I was…my dad doesn’t hit me or my mom or sister, he goes to work every day and is sober, he doesn’t push me to wreck my body for his own ego….they don’t ignore me, or use me to get back at each other…they just…want me to make the grades they think I am capable of getting. And yeah, I let it get to me; I panicked over an F…..but…the worst they would have done is grounded me and made me work even harder to maintain my studies. So…I saw John screaming at Andy, yelling about how he hates his dad, asking what he did to deserve a dad like that, and I just…I haven’t given much to you guys. Honestly, I didn’t think we would make it this far. I just wanted to ride it out and hang out with you guys as long as I could…I figured we’d all chicken out or go our separate ways when the stuff at school was too much, ya know?” 

Allison nodded, her eyes a little watery, “I’ve taken a lot of things for granted…and…since I am the only one with a relatively stable home life, my folks are mostly normal…I needed to be useful. I needed to make an effort to contribute. I want to help John and be his friend, and this felt like the best way to do it.” 

Allison let out a soft breath, leaning over and kissing Brian’s cheek softly. Brian looked at her and gave her a smile of appreciation, “I…I’m sorry about your parents.” he offered. 

Allison looked down a moment, the smile falling, but her face no longer held the look of someone close to the edge as she said softly, “Their loss. I’ll grow up, and they’ll only know my name. But I’ll be rich and famous… the whole world will know me…. when they ask for me, I’ll just tell them I’m busy…in my basement.” 

Brian stared at her momentarily before he let out a laugh, and Allison, too, began to laugh. After a moment, they sobered up a little, and Brian leaned his head onto Allison’s shoulder and asked, “Can you and Claire please help me find a girlfriend? Andy and John are full of shit, and I know it.” 

Allison rested her cheek on his head and nodded, not saying a word as Brian sighed, “Thanks.” 

“You going to go to the school and try to catch him?” Allison offered, and Brian sighed, “I don’t know. I only made it this far because my parents took my sister to the doctor for stomach issues. Then they were going to the store and a few other places to grab whatever adults grab when they are out. They’ll probably be home by the time Bender’s out of detention.” 

Allison pondered that a minute before saying, “We could walk around downtown.” 

“As if,” Brian scoffed softly, and Allison rolled her eyes, “Leave a note saying you had to run to the library…tell ‘em you’ll be back before dinner. I will get John with you, and we can try to peep Claire’s dress.” 

Brian sat up and looked at her, “Come on–” Allison pressed gently, and Brian sighed, “I’ve never lied so much in my life as I have while hanging with you guys.” Brian stood, and Allison clapped her hands happily before wrapping her arm through his and saying softly, “Only white lies. They don’t hurt anyone. And besides, that’s what you do…when you care about people.” 

Page Break 

“It sounds to me like he has a severe behavioral disorder.” Jillian said as Vernon rolled his eyes and leaned back in his office chair, a hand rubbing up his face, “No shit. That’s obvious. The kid has been a pain in my side since day one and has done everything in his power to be a disruption at this school.” 

“Yeah, many kids from dysfunctional homes will act out in a bid for attention, especially from adults in their lives. They crave attention and care but don’t know how to ask for it in a healthy way. They can focus on one specific adult or person, but sometimes, it doesn’t matter; anyone giving them attention that isn’t physically abusive is considered good. Half the time, they don’t even realize what they are doing. John’s power struggle with you most likely stems from the fact that he has no control at home. He can try and find the control he lacks by enticing you to fight with him. He counts on the fact that you won’t hit him because you are a teacher and that there are always people around. He knows what to expect from you and can speak his mind or rebel without severe consequences…well…consequences beyond detention or getting expelled. It’s a way for him to feel in control without worrying about repercussions that may cause physical harm. Given his home life, no consequences you give will affect his behavior because something worse is waiting at home.” 

“He shouldn’t trust me so much; I’ve thought about taking a swing more than once,” Vernon sneered. 

Jillian’s suddenly warm voice said, “You are the closest thing he has to an adult he can trust. Though I am sure that doesn’t please you at all.” 

Vernon considered that for a long moment before Jillian clarified, “Don’t take his reliance on your routine with him as anything other than that. I am in no way claiming he likes you or that you have some special place in his heart–” 

“Pfft, as if,” Vernon grumbled. 

“This isn’t him projecting his desire for a father figure onto you. At least, it does not sound like it. It’s more a way for him to express his anger and pain and rebel against the system that has hurt him. If this has been going on his whole life, it’s possible he’s already been in the system and will have zero faith in it.” 

Vernon’s brow furrowed, “If he’d been placed into the system, wouldn’t he still be there?” 

“No. The main point of child protective services is to remove the child from immediate harm. But, in the long run, they are not necessarily trying to keep the child away from their parents. If the parents in question show remorse and the crimes against their children are not severe, a case worker can offer them back custody. The parents must prove they have made a considerable effort to fix the problem. Get off the drugs and be sober for a certain amount of time, or not have had a drink for so many months, taken anger management and child development classes, can prove they can hold a job, yadda yadda. I’m simplifying it, but if John was removed from his parents and placed in a home, and they were able to get him back….and then the abuse eventually continued….well, his faith in the system would be destroyed, especially if he didn’t want to go back to his parents in the first place. Some kids don’t. It’s hard to believe, but some kids get removed and genuinely never want to see their parents again. Most don’t have a choice though if their parents get their shit together.” 

Vernon let out a long, painful sigh as he rubbed at his eyes and asked, “So what do I do? He’s going to be eighteen in a year; it seems stupid to uproot his entire life when he’ll be too old to stay in foster care or whatever it’s called. He’s finally started to apply himself, sort of, anyway. And his tantrum today was the first he’s had all week. This group of kids who claim to be his friends seem to be a good influence; they seem to be helping. I don’t know if I want to take that away from him. I hate the kid, he’s a real ball-buster, but I don’t want to be the shit stain that adds to his already shitty life.” 

“Do you want my professional opinion? Or do you want the opinion of your ex-fiance?” Vernon ruminated on that before he asked, “Is there a difference?” 

“Oh yeah,” she said with amusement. 

“Give me both,” Vernon said, sitting up and placing an elbow on his knee as he waited. 

Jillian sighed and said, “In my professional opinion, you need to do your job and make the call, have him removed from the abusive situation, and then make sure he gets placed in a good foster home. He will also need to see a therapist, probably several. He’ll also need a medical eval, and if he’s lucky, when he ages out, his friends will still be there to help him get on his feet as a legal adult.” 

“And?” Vernon asked. 

“In my personal opinion, as the woman who shared a life with you for almost ten years, I think you have what it takes to figure it out on your own. You will use your judgment, bust some balls of your own, use your brain, and sort it out. Just like you did for your brother.” 

Vernon looked down, eyes hardening as he whispered, “Don’t act like I was Superman when I failed him so badly. Nicky died, I clearly wasn’t capable enough to–”

“You did everything in your power to bring him back to us; he chose to stay right where he was. You can lead a horse to water–” 

“Yeah, I get it. I know, we’ve been over this too many fucking times, Jills.” 

“Yeah, I know,” she said softly, her voice empathetic and filled with understanding. 

“So…what do I do if this kid won’t drink from the trough?” 

Jillian sighed, “Then you make the call anyway. Just remember, given the sensitive nature of this conversation, if things go to hell, I’ll deny ever hearing any of this. You’re on your own; my job requires I report this information you’ve given me–” 

“So why aren’t you calling?” Vernon asked. 

There was a long pause, and Jillian said much too sweetly, “Because that kid has you. If you can’t reach him, I know you’ll stomach making the call, no matter how much it kills you to do it. You’ll do what’s right. But given it’s you, I don’t think you’ll need to. Richard “the bull” Vernon doesn’t take shit from anyone, especially a kid who's just in pain and doesn’t know how to deal with it.” 

Vernon let out a shudder of a breath, “He reminds me so much of Nick, Jills, I can’t even think sometimes. It’s like all those late nights of us yelling at each other about him getting clean just…this damn kid gets my blood boiling just like Nicky used to….” 

“I know. It’s okay. Just…a day at a time, remember? A day at a time.” 

Vernon’s jaw clenched, eyes studying the door as he said faintly, “Yeah….I miss you, Jills.” 

The smile in Jillian’s voice was evident, but she kept her more playful personality at bay as she said, “I miss you too, Bullwinkle.” 

Vernon let out a grunt, “I hate that stupid fucking name.” 

“I know. Now, buck up, go do your thing.” 

“Right. Yeah….hey…dinner?” 

She laughed softly as she asked, “Your place or mine?” 

Vernon pursed his lips a moment before he said, “Labello’s…” 

“A walk in the park?” she questioned. 

“Hey, who do you think you’re talking to? Buy me a drink first, would ya?” he teased, acting like a prude, which made her laugh again. He closed his eyes, pressing the phone closer as he listened to her lyrical laugh, and took a slow, deep breath. 

“Dinner and a movie.” Jillian offered, and Vernon smirked, “Sure. Call me later tonight.” 

“Alright. Remember, he’s not Nicky, and you’re not trying to be his friend; you’re just trying to get on even footing with him. He’s going to push you hard, really try to get a rise out of you. He’ll fight you every step of the way, but kids like him need consistency and routine. Whatever you decide, you need to stick with it and don’t do anything that will make him question your intent.” 

“Right, I got it. Thanks, Jills.” 

“Any time, Bull.” 

Vernon hung up the phone, shaking out of that warm feeling running through his body. He straightened his coat and the buttons of his shirt before opening the door to his office and walking back across the hall to the library. 

He found Carl sitting on the edge of the librarian's desk, arms crossed, as he stared towards the back of the library in thought. He noticed Carl had picked up the mess, righted the table and chair, and left the papers on the desk. He’d used a little tape to fix the cracks in the plastic file organizer and even took care of the shattered pencil holder. 

Carl nodded towards the back of the room, meeting Vernon’s eye as he said, “Quiet as a rabbit. He is sitting in the back corner with his head between his knees. Hasn’t made a sound.” 

Vernon nodded, “Good. Thanks, Carl.” Vernon gave a single pat to the back of the man’s shoulder before saying, “I’ll take it from here.” 

Carl nodded and stood up, heading towards the door only to turn and ask, “Who’d you call anyway?” 

Vernon gave him a long and pensive look before saying softly, “An old friend.” 

Carl raised a brow, and Vernon rubbed at the back of his neck before saying in a reluctant voice, “She specializes in child psychology and deals with kids from abusive backgrounds on the daily. I just…wanted her advice on how to deal with that…kid.” 

Vernon met Carl’s eye, giving a look that dared the man to challenge him or make some smarmy comment about how Vernon couldn’t do his job right and had to call for help; Carl just smiled and nodded, “You know that respect I didn’t have for you?” Vernon made an annoyed face, “Well, it’s starting to come around. Good job giving a shit.” his praise was sincere though his delivery left a lot to be desired. 

Vernon just shook his head, watching Carl leave before looking up at the ceiling and saying, “If you were ever going to help me, now would be a good time.” When no response came, as Vernon knew it wouldn’t, he steadied himself, rubbed at his jaw, and then headed to the back of the library, having no clue what he was going to say but hoping somehow, unlike with his brother, he could get through to this kid, and maybe make a difference for once. 

Page Break 

Claire had just finished dress shopping with her mother when she left the store and noticed Brian and Allison standing nearby, trying to look casual but failing badly. Claire couldn’t stop the giggle that left her lips, and she turned at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. “Do you know them?” her mother asked, her eyes narrow and hard as she gazed at the two teens. 

“Yeah. they're so awkward, I’ll be right back.” Claire left her mother’s side, walking over to the pair, who seemed surprised she was willing to approach while with her mother. Allison didn’t hesitate to jump on her, giving a hug, which Claire returned before the girl moved to her side and wrapped an arm through Claire’s. 

“What are you two doing here?” she asked, and Brian flushed as he said in a nervous voice, “Well, Allison was at Andy’s, and then I was at Andy’s, and I was getting stuff for–” 

Claire held up a hand, “Brian, calm down; I’m not mad. It’s fine.” 

“You sure?” Brian asked, eyeing Claire’s mother, touching up her makeup with a compact. 

“Yeah, just tell me what’s up.” 

Brian nodded as he breathed, mist expelling across his lips from the cold air, “Okay, I went to Andy’s Dad’s shop and got some stuff. I had this idea about where Bender could stay–” 

“Hang on, what do you mean?” 

Allison leaned closer and said, “He built John a room in his attic.” 

Claire looked at Allison in shock before returning her eyes to Brian and staring, “Really?” 

Brian hesitated before he nodded and smiled. Claire moved forward and hugged Brian tightly, whispering a soft thank you in his ear before pulling back to smile at him. 

“Yeah, least I could do…all things considered.” His eyes glanced back to Claire’s mother, who was now on her way over, which made Brian’s eyes bulge. 

“Honey, introduce me to your little friends!” she chirped, and Claire looked down, shuffling her feet before saying softly, “Uhm, this is Allison Reynolds, and this is Brian Johnson.” 

Allison stared at her, giving the woman’s hand an awkward shake before glancing at Claire, making room for her mother, who gave a dainty wave to Brian, the blonde teen utterly awe-struck by her presence. 

The woman looked at Claire and asked briskly, “So, would you like to stay in town with your friends or come home with me? Or would they like to come? Do either of you have a vehicle?” 

Allison and Brian shook their heads but remained silent as they stared at her. Claire shuffled her feet anxiously some more before saying, “Why don’t you guys ride back with us, and we can jump in my car and come and pick up John and Andy…we can go look at your new room before we all have to be home for dinner.” 

“Oh, that’s fine, darling, but I meant to mention that your father and I will go to dinner with the Hills tonight. Your father will leave you his card so you can order something or make a salad. Maybe your friends can come and keep you company. We’ll probably be home late, so–” 

“Wait, why are you going to dinner with the Hills?” Claire asked, and her mother smiled, “Oh, right, well, Mr. Hill has offered his son Brant to be your escort for your coming out party. I know you have that little boyfriend of yours, but he probably wouldn’t have any interest in attending–” 

Claire’s face paled, and Allison suddenly barked a sharp “No!” in solid protest. Claire didn’t even try to make excuses before saying, “I don’t want Brant to be my escort!” 

Claire’s mother’s whimsical and smooth motions came to a solid stop. The woman stood still as a statue; her eyes landed on Claire, and the smile faded from her lips. “Pardon?” 

“I…uhm…it’s just that…I don’t want Brant Hill to be my escort at the party. I…thought maybe John could–” 

“Nonsense, Bran’ts a fine young man; I’m sure he will be a perfect gentleman. Besides, as I said, John won’t mind; these parties do tend to be boring for those who don’t normally–” 

“He asked me!” Claire said suddenly, and her mother paused, “Oh? Did he?” 

Claire could sense her mother’s disbelief and said, “Yes, I told my friends about the coming out party, and John asked if he could escort me. He knows all about it and will probably be bored, but…he wants to take me.” 

Those sharp brown eyes studied Claire intensely, seeming to consider something as she said, “I’ll have to talk to your father, and it would be rude to cancel our dinner plans, so…we’ll put that thought on hold and revisit it later.” 

But mom–” 

“Tut tut, it’s on hold; we can discuss it later. Let’s get your car now, and then you can spend time with your friends.” 

Claire’s mother turned and headed toward their car, leaving Claire in shock as Allison and Brian came to either side of her, “No way in hell is Brant going to be my escort.” 

“No.” Allison agreed. 

“Come on, let’s go get my car, and then we can figure out what to do,” Claire offered. Brian and Allison nodded as they headed towards the fancy car Claire’s mother was already sitting in. 

Page Break 

Vernon rounded the statue, slowly approaching the library's back corner casually. He didn’t see Bender at first, but he stopped once he slid past the couches and moved around one of the low-rise bookshelves filled with large encyclopedias. 

Bender was sequestered in a corner on the ground, arms resting across the top of his bent knees and forehead resting against his arms. He was still and completely silent. Bender hadn’t heard Vernon approach, nor had he heard the man’s quiet conversation with Carl, but at the moment, he was trying to come up with any possible way to get out of being expelled. 

Claire’s words whispered through his head softly, ‘ It’s zero to sixty with you sometimes, I swear–’ 

She was right, and John knew it, but he couldn’t always help it. Sometimes, his feelings got so big that his anger grew so fast that he would explode. He couldn’t stop or control it; most of the time, he didn’t want to. He was currently in a post-explosion high, all the nasty stuff inside having come out in a display of aggravated assault and leaving him feeling lightheaded and his body shaky. 

It was one of the best feelings when all the nasty could pour out of him, but the fade was always brutal. Once the impulses were gone, he was left feeling hollow, and his reasoning skills washed down upon him, allowing him to see he had just overreacted and would most likely pay for it. 

As he sat there waiting for Vernon to get him (no doubt the man would this time) or for the cops to show up and escort him off school property, his heart ached, and his stomach hurt. He’d ruined everything. He’d once again been given an opportunity to make all the bad stuff in his life stop, and in less than three hours, he had utterly ripped those sweet possibilities apart. 

He’d had a whole month with Claire; now he would be expelled and never see her again. Though he wasn’t much of a crier, at the moment, thick burning tears were silently dripping from his eyes and down onto his thighs, staining his jeans with regret as he only had himself to blame. 

“What the fuck am I going to do, man, what the fuck am I going to do…fucking stupid…your so fucking stupid–” he whispered to himself, a hand coming to grip at his hair painfully to try and calm the panic building inside of him. 

“Why can’t you stop…you need to stop…why can’t you just fucking stop…” he whispered, eyes clenching tightly as more hot tears dripped. He didn’t feel good; his face was hot, and his stomach wouldn’t stop rolling. 

The sound of a throat clearing softly in front of him made John jerk, and he saw Vernon sitting on a chair, sleeves rolled up, elbows on his knees, and hands folded together, his tie dangling as the man stared at him with narrow but curious eyes. 

John’s face changed from shock to anger as he very quickly wiped at his eyes with a gloved hand and sniffed up the snot several times, “What the fuck do you want, Dick. Go the fuck away!” 

Vernon studied John’s red face, bloodshot eyes, the dried blood on his lip, which had cracked back open at some point, and how his body was suddenly pulled tight. He turned away, leaning harshly against the wall, his angry, pained face the only part of him now looking Vernon as arms wrapped around his legs, and he sneered. 

Like a fucking bear in a cage… Vernon mused silently. 

“I’m not leaving, punk. You and I are going to have a conversation.” 

“Like hell we are, just fucking kick me out or suspend me, I don’t fucking care, but I’m not talking to you, fucking asshole.” John looked away, his tears instantly stopping, yet he still wiped at his nose and eyes self-consciously as he stared off. 

“Yeah? You don’t care? Not at all?” Vernon asked. 

John eyed him a moment before he once again looked away and gave a soft “No.” 

“No? Why not?” Vernon asked. 

John scoffed, “Cause that’s how it goes. It’s always how it goes. I lose my temper, and I get shuffled around. I’m too hot a potato for anyone to deal with. So I just get flung from one asshole to another, well fuck ‘em and fuck you. I don’t need anyone, and they clearly don’t want me, so….just…” John took a deep breath as he said softly, “Just do whatever you’re gonna do so I can figure out what the fuck I’m gonna do, alright?” John leaned his head against the wall, swallowing thickly as he waited for whatever sentencing Vernon would hand him. 

Vernon let out a long slow sigh, studying this kid who was fucked up, who clearly expected more fallout, who was waiting for the shoe to drop so he could try to figure out some sort of plan for himself. 

I bet he does that a lot…

“I’m not going to suspend you, and I didn’t call the cops.” Vernon offered, still staring John down, though his expression was more curious than angry. 

John seemed to think on that a moment before he looked at Vernon, “No? Why not? Wanna fuck me up yourself? Good luck. I fight back! I’ll break your fucking face in.” 

Vernon could hear the empty threat, a painfully obvious attempt on John’s part to keep the older man at bay, to stall whatever punishment he thought Vernon might want to act out. 

The older man shook his head, hands coming to rub his face as a soft “Jesus–” left his lips, and John once again looked away, his head giving a soft thump as he leaned it back against the wall. 

“Just get it over with…” John whispered, and Vernon glanced up, hands falling back down as he said softly, “John–” That got the kid's attention, John looking over at him with a furrowed brow as he asked, “What you call me?” 

Vernon instantly cleared his throat, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms, “I have an idea. Something better than suspension and more common sense than another pointless detention…I want to make another deal–”

John’s face paled, and Vernon’s brow furrowed, “Forget that, call the cops; I ain’t doing any weird favors for you; I don’t do that shit…just don’t fucking touch me.” John barked, pulling his body tighter and face set in a half freaked out half angry scowl, “Didn’t peg you for a pedo, not surprised though–” John said under his breath, and Vernon yelled sharply, “Not that kind of deal, you little shit!” 

John eyed him again, seeming more weary than he had been earlier but suddenly turning himself out, legs kicking to rest before him, facing Vernon as he raised his arms, “Then what the fuck you want! If you aren’t gonna suspend me, arrest me, beat me, or try to diddle me, what the fuck could you possibly want!?” 

Vernon stood, needing to pace, needing to move because he was three seconds from calling Child Protective Services, three seconds from ruining this kid's life in hopes of somehow finding him a better one. A hand fisted and came to his mouth, eyes closing as he looked up towards the ceiling, taking a deep breath and steadying himself. 

There are too many signs. They’d never talked this in-depth before; John had never been this open with him. He always spoke in sarcasm and shallow surface-level euphemisms. He was a smart-ass; he wasn’t ever this broken or indifferent to his existence. He wasn’t usually this desperate to get Vernon to go off and wasn’t this lethargic regarding what happened to him. 

Something had happened, and things were in play, and that’s what felt off. Vernon’s hand dropped as he suddenly looked at John, who was staring at him with a queer expression, looking somewhere between seasick and livid. His life rides on whatever Vernon planned to do. 

The older man finally returned to his chair, shaking out his own tense body as he met John’s eye and said in a stern but soft voice, “Look…” but he froze again, John’s expression one of a kicked puppy, and Vernon knew that John had no idea he was making that face. Brows furrowed up, brown eyes sad and tired, frown soft as he waited for another kick, and in that moment, he looked so much like Nicky. 

Vernon would bring him water in the mornings after he came down from his high, the look of regret and pain on his face so close to the look John had on his own. 

He swallowed a lump in his throat, his voice growing softer as he said, “Look, I know what’s going on with you. You don’t have to admit it; it’s written all over your face and in every sentence you speak. Now, my job as your teacher, as your caregiver is to march into my office and call the Department of Child Protective Services–” 

“No fucking way will I ever go back–” 

“Shut up. Let me finish, you little brat.” Vernon snapped, and John’s mouth closed. A curl of his lip told Vernon that John would run if Vernon tried to make that call, which settled the matter at that moment, “I don’t want to call them. Frankly, I don’t want to deal with the investigation, the interviews of the students, or the paperwork.” 

“How honorably indifferent of you.” John deadpanned, and Vernon gave him a smirk, a look of warning that told John he didn’t have many chances left to shut up, so John looked around, thinking of his options before he asked, “So what are you going to do, then?” 

“I want to make a deal. Like the one I made with your little girlfriend.” Vernon said with a rather tired expression of his own. 

John shrugged, waiting for Vernon to continue, and so he did, “I’ll excuse you from the remaining Saturday detentions you have–” John perked up, “I’ll also remove some of the transgressions off your permanent record…”

“Just some?” John questioned. 

Vernon smirked, “You’d have to be willing to sit down with me and explain each incident in detail before I can consider removing any more than the ones we’ve already discussed.” 

John scoffed and shook his head, “What else?” 

Vernon rolled his lips together and said, “Instead of a Saturday detention that takes up your whole day, I want one hour of your time on Saturday mornings. You’ll show up here, get in my car, and we will take a little trip downtown…once it’s done…I can drop you off wherever you want, or you can walk off alone…but this would be every Saturday morning….until I say otherwise.” 

John studied Vernon’s face, slowly standing up as he said softly, “And where would you want to take a student for an hour every Saturday morning, Dick ?” 

Vernon held up a steadying hand to John, who Vernon could tell was seconds from bolting towards the door. 

“This would be under the radar; no one would be allowed to know. But, I would be taking you to see my friend Dr. Jillian…she’s a child psychologist.” 

John stared at Vernon, eyes wide, and the silence between them was so harsh Vernon almost winced before John turned and said quickly, “Nope.” he was walking towards the exit of the library, but Vernon stood and followed, calling out as he said, “You want to make your life better or not!?” John stopped, not looking back at the older man but waiting, “You ever want that shitty feeling inside to go away? You have to face it, kid. And I promise you, if you don’t, it won’t ever go away…not ever. It’ll eat at you for the rest of your life and be why nothing ever works. You’ll keep exploding or making the wrong choices until there isn’t anyone left who wants to help. Do you think you’re alone now? Just wait, buddy!” 

John turned around, Vernon seeing a hint of mist in his eyes as he asked angrily, “What the fuck do you want from me!” 

“I want you to save yourself, you little prick! I want you to fight for it! I want you to prove everyone wrong…no…you know what?” Vernon approached him and poked John in the chest as he said between clenched teeth, “I want you to prove me wrong. I want to look up John Bender in ten years, and I want you to be so goddamn successful it knocks my dick in the dirt just to look at you.” 

Their eyes met Vernon, challenging John directly; the teen studying Vernon’s face for a very long time, confusion evident, but after a moment, John’s face hardened, “I was going to do that anyway, Dick. So don’t worry about it.” 

“Yeah? You’re three seconds from exploding on a good day; on bad ones, you can barely keep your shit together. I am offering you a chance to fix this shit before it gets worse because, trust me, all of this is going to get a lot worse before it gets better. Turning eighteen only gets you away from your old man; it doesn’t make the demons disappear. Trust me, I know.” 

John scoffed, a cruel smile coming to his face, and he was about to retort when he once again met the man’s eye and fell silent. 

Vernon held up his arm, having rolled up his sleeves earlier for this exact moment, and held his exposed flesh in front of John’s face, his forearm littered with thin white scars that crisscrossed. Vernon said softly, “I hated having to go to some fancy rich doctor and tell them about my life, about what happened to me. It made my skin crawl and, in the beginning, only worsened my anger. I quit going….but this…this is what I got for mouthing off to my old man. I stopped going to the guy after a month.” 

John’s eyes were so confused, and yet, he was looking from Vernon’s arm to his face, almost sizing him up as he said, “If you stopped, why the fuck do you want me to go?” 

Vernon rolled his sleeves down and buttoned his cuffs as he said, “Because I had a brother, and he died. And…it was my fault.” 

John was silent as he took a few dazed steps back and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and waiting, “I was like you–” Vernon said, placing hands on his hips, “I was counting the days to eighteen, thinking that if I could just get away from my old man, I could make something happen for myself. I’d get me and my brother out of there; we’d get jobs and make a living. It wouldn’t be glamorous, but we’d be better off together than back at home. So, I turned eighteen, I got out of that psycho bin and took my brother with me. I was able to move on…but my brother couldn’t–” Vernon said, looking down at the ground, hanging his head in shame, eyes seeming so far away. 

“What, uh, what happened to him?” John asked softly, though his face still seemed unsure, and he was trying to keep his tone respectful; Vernon could hear that shred of doubt that showed John still didn’t trust this conversation. 

“He ended up ODing in some back alley whore house. Alone, in pain, and aside from me…no one else even noticed he was gone.”  

John said nothing, arms still crossed as he looked away, swallowing hard, clearly digesting Vernon’s words but not wanting to admit it scared him, “Yeah, whatever, man, it’s a sob story, why are you telling me shit I don’t need to know?” 

Vernon felt anger rise inside of him, his hand reaching for John, but he stopped himself, stiff fingers curling into a fist before he forced it back to his hip and said, “When my brother died, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to nuke the whole world. Because no one had cared about us, and I thought, if just one person had cared, that would have been enough to get us through….and my point, you little prick, is when my brother died, I went back to the damn doctor, a different one, but she was able to help me…she made me deal with my bullshit, made me face my demons and even though I hated every fucking minute of it, once it was over….” Vernon held up his hands and motioned to himself. 

“What? You got a cheap suit?” John asked. 

Vernon let out an exasperated growl as he said, “No, ass wipe, I’m in control…not the anger. I’ve wanted to punch you stupid at least six different times today…and if you had met me a long time ago, I would have. I would have fucking killed you…face down….no witnesses.” 

John looked at him, eyes wide as Vernon said, “I control my emotions, I control my impulses, they don’t control me. I got my life together, went to school, got a job that pays well enough so I can live comfortably, and as long as I’ve worked here, I’ve never laid a single hand on any of you little jackasses. I get mad, and I fucking curb it because that’s what a real man does. Your old man, my old man…they aren’t real men. And I think you fucking know that.” Vernon said as John stared at him for a long moment before he gave a single nod, though he seemed pained to agree with Vernon on anything. 

Still, it was the first time they’d ever agreed on anything, and Vernon had to hold on to that small victory, “I put my anger towards something useful, like trying to help and educate ungrateful shitbags like you.” 

“You swear more than any adult I’ve ever met, dude,” John deadpanned. 

Vernon itched at a cheek as he said casually, “Well...she didn’t fix all my problems; I’m still working on some of them. Focus, will you, you gonna give it a shot or not?” 

John crossed his arms, angry eyes narrowing before he took a deep breath and let it out, tongue running across his teeth before he said, “You know what, sure, why not? I’ll see the fucking shrink, she’ll say I’m good, and then I’ll get out of my Saturdays, get some shit off my record, and won’t have to waste time with a dick like you.” 

“So, we got a deal?” Vernon asked and John rolled his yeah, “Yeah, deal, whatever. I don’t have much of a choice at this point.” 

Vernon didn’t hesitate; he took John’s hand and shook it hard, still holding John’s gaze as he said, “Deal, be here next Saturday, 8 am, and make sure you have a place to go when you're done at 9.” 

“Sure, Dick. Whatever.” John said with a sigh, mentally adding another thing to his list of shit he has to keep up with. 

“Fine. Consider this detention served, get the fuck out of here.” Vernon said, chucking his thumb over his shoulder, and John’s eyes went wide before he gave a sharp salute and mashed the heels of his boot together, “Whatever the fearless leader commands, see ya later, Dick!” 

John turned and left the library door faster than Vernon could follow. Vernon let out the longest, most exhausted breath of relief he’d ever done before walking back to his office and plopping down in the chair behind his desk. 

The silence was soothing but after only a moment of peace, he heard a soft sound and opened his eyes to see Carl standing in his office door with a six-pack, “Did someone call room service?” 

Vernon looked at him for a long moment before he said, “Bring ‘em here.” Carl smirked as he walked over and sat down across from the man, breaking two beers free from the plastic holder before saying, “So, I heard you got him into therapy.” 

Vernon just looked at Carl, eyes narrow, “Do you really gotta listen to everything that goes on inside these damn walls?” 

Carl tapped his nose, “I am the eyes and ears of this school, my friend. And I’ll tell you what, I never believed in a million years that you would be the one to break John Bender.” 

Vernon smirked as he cracked the beer can and said, “I didn’t break him. Kids’ still as stubborn as ever. But…blackmail and sob stories work pretty well, even on a prick like him.” 

Carl chuckled before he asked, “Sure, but…was it all true?” 

Vernon was halfway through a drink of his beer as he looked at Carl and murmured, “Drink your beer and shut up.” 

Carl leaned back in his seat and smirked, “Alright, alright, not my business. But…yea know…good job.” Carl held up his beer respectfully, and Vernon did the same before they both took another swig and sat in companionable silence.

Chapter Text

John walked fast down the sidewalk, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat as the sun warmed his face. He slid his sunglasses on, and the cigarette's tip burned red as he inhaled. In his mind, music played as he headed for his buddy’s shop. Something loud and angry, meant to calm him down and ease the anxiety that was swirling in his stomach. 

He felt incredibly light as he watched cars slowly roll by and people made their way through the different shops on the downtown strip. He tried not to think about what had happened, but even as he tried to think of the lyrics to the song in his mind, Vernon’s voice echoed like a foghorn. 

Look, I know what’s going on with you. You don’t have to admit it; it’s written all over your face and in every sentence you speak. 

John removed the cigarette from his mouth and let out a harsh blast of smoke, coming to pause by the bus stop and trying to catch his breath. Vernon letting him go early had been a godsend; he had been three seconds from leaving on his own, willing to face the consequences over whatever bullshit Vernon had just been trying to pull. 

You ever want that shitty feeling inside to go away? You have to face it, kid. And I promise you, if you don’t, it won’t ever go away…not ever. It’ll eat at you for the rest of your life and be why nothing ever works. You’ll keep exploding or making the wrong choices until there isn’t anyone left who wants to help. Do you think you’re alone now? Just wait, buddy!

John’s jaw was clenched, but otherwise, he simply stood near the bus stop sign, flicking the ash off his smoke and trying to ignore what awaited him the following Saturday. 

I want you to save yourself, you little prick! I want you to fight for it! I want you to prove everyone wrong…no…you know what? I want you to prove me wrong. I want to look up John Bender in ten years, and I want you to be so goddamn successful it knocks my dick in the dirt just to look at you.

John finally caved and sat down on the bench. No one else was waiting, so he figured he could get away with loitering for a few minutes, which allowed him time to consider what the fuck was happening in his life. 

It had been a couple days since he left home, and since then, he’d spent more time with the Breakfast Club than he’d ever spent with anyone else. They’d seen his home away from home, embraced it too, partying with him and sleeping there with him as if he were the “cool” kid for having a place of his own. 

None of them treated the old shack as pathetic or tragic, but more like John had delivered the hottest new hangout spot to them. That had made him feel good, but also made him realize that perhaps some people weren’t as shitty as he thought. Every day, Andy, Claire, Allison, and Brian proved more and more that people had layers. The world wasn’t black and white, which threw John off because he’d lived in black and white for so long; seeing shades of gray was a new experience. One that left him feeling off balance and confused. 

You were either a good person or a bad person, you were an asshole, or you were a saint. You either conformed to the status quo or rebelled and sought the outliers of freedom. John wasn’t self-aggrandizing; he considered himself a bad person, or at least he used to. Now, he wasn’t so sure. And Vernon had also followed suit with breaking expectations. Vernon had always been the same, and John had relied on that sense of sameness every day he went into that shitty school. 

But clearly, whatever his girlfriend had said to Vernon in his office had registered, putting Vernon onto a scent that John was beginning to notice more people were becoming genuinely concerned with. He’d told Andy in his truck how no one would care if he came to school with a busted face, that no one would notice or give a fuck if he was in pain. Vernon had flipped that worldview onto its head. 

Andy had proven that some adults really didn’t want to fuck you over for no reason, Mr. Gauff allowing him access to the weight room without so much as batting an eye, leaving John near speechless. 

Claire, breaking away from her clique to defend people she would have never thought twice about only a few weeks ago, proved to him that people could change. 

Brian stood up to Brant and his two pet goblins, proving even the weak could be strong. 

Allison, choosing to be seen even though she had spent her life trying to disappear, and risking her invisibility to try and find his address, risking her new friendships, and facing possible expulsion just to find him. 

John threw the butt of his smoke in the gutter, pulling out another and lighting it, hoping he had more time to think before the bus came. His buddy’s shop was within walking distance of where he was. He just didn’t want to go until he’d cleared his head.

Vernon, what to do about shithead Vernon…. John’s mind churned as he tried to think of a way to get out of this bullshit Saturday session with the shrink. Maybe if he just went the first time and presented himself as a sane young man, the quack would tell Vernon he was a dumb fuck, and Vernon would still dismiss the rest of John’s Saturdays. And if Vernon was going to clear some of the shit off his record, he might be able to graduate on time…he just had to play nice for a few more weeks and keep himself in check during school hours. 

Yeah? You’re three seconds from exploding on a good day; on bad ones, you can barely keep your shit together. I am offering you a chance to fix this shit before it gets worse because, trust me, all of this is going to get a lot worse before it gets better. Turning eighteen only gets you away from your old man; it doesn’t make the demons disappear. Trust me, I know…

Vernon doesn’t know shit…..I can fix this shit on my own….I've got my friends, and I have a plan. I am not going to let him mess with me or throw me off…I can make it myself…I don’t need help….

What right did the asshole have to talk to him like that? What the fuck kind of crazy bullshit was he spewing that made him think John could relate to his bullshit at all? Vernon didn’t know anything; he was still the enemy and was still trying to hurt him; he’d just changed his tactics. But John would be ready next time; next Saturday, when he showed up for their fun little sojourn into town, John would be prepared to call the man on his bullshit. 

He thinks he can get me to trust him; he thinks if he gains my trust, he can control me…no one can control me…I’m my own person…I control who the fuck I trust; he thinks after two years of fucking with me, he can just reach out some bullshit handful of crap and try to relate to me and just…ship me off to some crazy doctor? Fuck him, I’m not crazy, I’m just mad…don’t need a doctor to tell me that…

John’s mind was racing, and he wanted a fucking joint, but he was all out, and unless he went and saw Jake, he wasn’t going to be able to get green or have any cash to get by for the upcoming week. He couldn't risk going home to get his stash of money, if his dad caught him again he'd be done for. 

He needed to stop thinking about Vernon and his stupid….

I get mad, and I fucking curb it because that’s what a real man does. Your old man, my old man…they aren’t real men. And I think you fucking know that…

“Damn it,” John whispered, more smoke sliding out between chapped lips as he tried to clear his mind of Vernon’s bullshit. He needed to get some dope because that would help him get his thoughts under control; he could better dissect and think about what had just happened after he was high. 

He ended up OD-ing in some back alley whore house. Alone, in pain, and aside from me…no one else even noticed he was gone.

John shook off the light cold and tried to keep his stomach from twisting. 

Ain’t going to be me; I don’t do the hard shit. Just weed, and I don’t drink that much either…it won’t happen to me…long as I stick with weed and cigs, I’ll be fine…ain’t going to end up like that fucking chump…I have too many plans to be that fucking stupid…

John looked across the street, trying to get up the nerve to start walking, only to see a pair of older men in the alley across from him, a deal going down in plain sight. It happened so quickly that John almost missed the fact that the buyer was one of Jake’s buddies from the garage, and John knew that particular dealer did not deal in green…

Standing quickly, John crossed the street and caught up to the guy, Joey. 

“Hey, yo! Sup?” John asked, falling in stride with the older guy who looked at him and smirked, “Just picked up, heading over to Jake’s now; where you been, Johnny? I haven’t seen you at the shop in a fucking minute.” 

“I’ve been busy.” John offered casually, and Joey shook his head. The man was in his mid to late thirties, taller than John by several inches, and thin as a rail. 

“I heard you were getting some tail,” Joey said with a wiggle of his brows, “Yeah? Who the fuck is saying that?” John asked, utterly confused about how high school gossip had made it to some random dudes garage. 

“A guy came by the shop looking for you…twice. I thought you owed someone money or something, Jesus. Real knee breaker, if you catch my drift. Said you were running around with a girl.” 

John stopped, Joey, turning to look at him, his face going from amused to pensive as John stared, the teen pushing his sunglasses up on top of his head, “What the fuck did he want?” 

Joey sighed, “What do you think? You. He wanted to know if Jake had seen you around.” 

“Damn it.” John hissed angrily before he noticed the older guy staring at his face, “What happened to your face?” 

“Fuck off.” John barked as he started walking, and Joey followed suit next to him, “Does Jake have any work? I need some cash, and I need some weed.” John lowered his voice as the pair walked. Joey nodded and smiled. “Yeah, he set a bike aside for you; working it should only take a few days. Get yourself around 300 and a bag. But you gotta show up, dude. I know you have shit going on, but if you take this one, you gotta get it done. No call, no show, and he’ll give the work to me or Dave.” 

“Got it. I’ll get it done.” John said as Joey rolled his lips, clearly debating on asking his question, but in the end, he said quietly, “I just picked up; if you want some now, I can give you a loan. You can get me back later. It ain’t weed but…gives you a real good feeling–” 

“No thanks, I don’t do that hard shit,” John said sharply. 

“You sure? Have you ever tried it?” John pushed Joey up against the nearest building, something about the man’s simple question triggering his anger, “I said I don’t do that hard shit. Leave it the fuck alone, and don’t push your blow or crystal or H on me, got it?” 

Joey held up his hands in surrender as he said, “Hey, Johnny, calm down, Jesus, it’s me, Joey, I didn’t know, I just assumed you might–” 

“Yeah. Most people do. Just don’t ask me again, okay? Just…I don’t want any, ever.” John still had the man pressed to the wall, and Joey nodded. He said, “Good choice. Ease off, just…let me go.” 

John slowly eased the pressure, and just as his arm dropped, a car honked, and they both turned, Claire’s red Mustang sitting there with Allison in the passenger seat and Brian looking out the back window. 

“Shit–” John hissed softly as he turned back to Joey and said, “Look, I gotta deal with this. Can you tell Jake I’ll be in later today, and I’ll take the commission?” Joey looked between John and the three kids behind him as he smirked, “Damn, dude, sometimes I forget you’re just a kid. Yeah, I got you…go hang out with your friends. I’ll talk to Jake.” 

John nodded, “Thanks, and…sorry…about earlier…I just…I really don’t wanna–” 

“Hey, I get it. No smoke. Swear. See you later. If you want, bring your friends by the shop; let ‘em see what you got going on, eh?” 

John eyed him nervously as he nodded, “Yeah, sure… see you later.” 

“Uh-huh, see you–” Joey spared one more look at the three kids behind John, and the older teen stepped into his line of sight and gave a subtle shake of his head, which made Joey smirk before he turned and headed down the street. 

John instantly breathed out, releasing stress he hadn’t realized he was holding before he turned and moved over to the car, leaning down and looking through the window, “What the fuck are you three doing here? Daddy has to work, shouldn’t you be in school?” he teased. Claire rolled her eyes as Allison laughed, and Brian looked freaked out. 

“What the hell are you doing here? Detention doesn’t end until three.” Claire barked, giving a rather aggravated look and most assuredly thinking John skipped out. 

But John only smiled that rye smile and said, “Vernon let me go early; I was the only kiddy in time out today; I think he got sick of me. Hey, Smiles, wanna move to the back?” 

It was Allison’s turn to roll her eyes, and John said with a wink, “Or you could sit on my lap; I bet Claire would love that.” 

Allison snorted before undoing her seatbelt and crawling into the back with Brian as John took her spot in front and shut the door. 

Claire pulled back into traffic as Brian asked from behind, “Hey, who was that guy you had pinned to the wall? He a junky or something?” 

John waved Brian away, “Nah, just some shithead I work with at my buddy’s shop. He’s just a guy. Tried to sell me some hard shit.” 

Claire looked at him with worry and asked, “What kind of hard shit?” 

“Doesn’t matter. The point is, I told him no and made it clear that I meant it. Sometimes you gotta be firm, or they will keep hounding you.” 

“But you’re just a kid.” Brian said, and John raspberries, “Doesn’t matter, Brainy-Boy, everyone loves money, get a person hooked young, that’s income for years…but I don’t do that shit. Never have, never will.” 

Claire reached over, took his hand, and said, “Good.” John glanced at her before he gripped her hand back and then asked, “So, where are we going?” 

Page Break 

The four of them drove around, grabbing food and sodas and browsing some of the locally owned stores in their small downtown shopping district. They were wasting time until Andy was off work at two, at which point they planned to pick him up and go over to Brian’s. 

Currently, they had a half hour left, the four of them wandering through a thrift shop that Allison had wanted to stop at. Claire had turned up her nose at the idea of buying second-hand, but Allison had pulled her along as both Brian and John gave her shit for being stuck-up. 

It took her all of ten minutes to find a dress from last year's catalog, a high-quality dress typically priced in the hundreds of dollars. The fifty-dollar price tag made her near faint. It triggered some feminine, predatory instinct that sent her on a hunt through the racks, leaving little gasps and sounds of shock as she continued to find second-hand articles of clothing that were surprisingly high-end yet extremely affordable. 

It wasn’t that Claire needed a break; she had her father’s card after all, but she had murmured something about taking the high-end dresses apart and creating something different with them. Saying she didn’t feel nearly as guilty about it, considering they were being sold for so cheaply. John watched her browse while also checking out a slew of acoustic and electric guitars that had been donated and were currently sitting in the front window. 

The instruments kept his mind off the experience he had with Vernon only hours earlier. It also allowed him to temporarily avoid thinking about the conversation he had wanted to have with Claire the night before about his issues. 

Brian had found a large rack of comic books, which he was searching through while Allison was on the prowl for more painting supplies. 

Eventually, John went in search of his girlfriend, finding Allison with her arms full of old mason jars filled with gently used artist brushes. At the same time, Brian held four comic books against his chest, both staring silently at a flowery curtain. 

John looked between the pair and the curtain for a moment before he asked in a confused voice, “Uh…looking for something to hang in the living room?” 

Before either could respond, the curtain slid aside, and Claire stood dressed to the nines in a black sequinned cocktail dress, striking a serious model-esque pose for a moment before breaking out into laughter. 

“Can you believe this is only one hundred and fifty dollars? It’s nearly eight at Bloomingdale's! I mean, it’s last year's dress, but this price is to die for!”

The three stared at her in shock, the dress hugging her body ungodly tight and pressing her breasts up to create lovely mounds and a hint of cleavage, “I just nutted…” John admitted, walking up to her and rubbing his hands around her waist, feeling her curves as Claire blushed profusely and said, “Don’t be gross.” 

“That’s not gross, wanna see gross come with me to the bathroom.” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she shook her head, cheeks bright red as she looked at Allison, “Come on, you have got to try this one, it will look so good on you!” 

Allison snorted, giving a doubtful blow of her bangs out of her eyes before Claire pulled free from John and took Allison’s jar of paint brushes away, setting it down carefully before she pulled Allison into the small changing room, and she gently pushed John out. 

She shut the curtain with a sharp snick, and the girls began to giggle and chat softly. John stood next to Brian, shaking his head in disbelief. “Ain’t that the fucking truth, thrown over for another girl….wanna try to peek with me?” John asked Brian, who shook his head fearfully, leaving John to scoff, “Pussy.” 

But John didn’t move from his spot, instead listening to the pair giggle from behind the curtain as fabric was zipped and unzipped and shifted, and then the curtain was pressed open, now revealing Allison in the black dress and Claire wearing a deep blue one, with a silky shine to it, “New prom dress!” She cheered as the girls displayed themselves in a mildly provocative manner, more than likely mirroring what they had seen professional models do. 

“Whoop!” John offered, clapping and whistling as Brian’s cheeks turned red, but he smiled and also managed a clap. 

“Bikinis next!” John urged, and Claire laughed, holding up two one-piece swimsuits that made the boys nod emphatically. And so, a little mini fashion show started. The boys handed items to the girls for them to try on, and the girls did silly poses in each item. The shop’s owner was watching them from the corner of her eye with a slight smile on her lips. 

At one point, Claire came out in a hilariously ill-fitting pair of overalls covered in rubber ducks and shoved John in, grabbing several items and making him change. 

He came out looking more like a bad copy of Billy Joel than anything else, which made them all laugh as he struck an incredibly Elvis-like pose. 

On they went, dragging Brian into it as well, swapping clothes, hats, ties, dresses, and pants and doing little struts along the aisles only to find more items to swap, switch, and dazzle each other with. 

John ended up finding a fedora he liked and wrapped a bandana around the base. Then, he performed several small hat tricks with it, flipping it up onto his head and rolling it down an arm before catching it and flipping it again. 

By the time two o’clock hit, they were in the process of putting items back and gathering all the things they wanted to buy. “Please, let me get you that hat. It’ll look so good on you at the party, and we’ll find a good suit for you.” Claire had gushed, adding the hat to the pile of clothes she had decided to buy. 

John would usually tell her that he didn’t need her to buy him things, that he earned his own money, but given that he hadn’t gone to work yet, he relented. The money he did have was hidden away deep within his room, where his parents couldn’t find it. He allowed her to purchase the hat for him, smiling at her when she plopped it onto his head outside the store. 

They all crammed into her car, bags with items from the shop tucked in around them, “I think you need a bigger car, Cherry.” John said as he tried to tuck his steel-toe boots in carefully around the bags now filling the floor of the passenger seat. 

She just rolled her eyes before saying, “We’ll see if Andy can drive over to Brian’s too; that will give us a little more room.” 

“You know a truck is for doing jobs right? Not hauling all your shopping bags around.” John said in a rather playful voice. 

Claire smirked, “Better get used to it, you ever get a truck and I’m going to absolutely fill it with shopping bags,” she teased. 

“Over my dead body.” John barked. 

“That can be arranged.” Allison joked from the back with a wicked smile, “I always thought about getting a truck.” Brian offered only for John to snort, “Yeah, right, you’ll end up with one of those compact cars with one of those fancy names, like Mitsubishi!” and John chopped his hands through the air as he did his best impression of a Japanese accent. 

“Oy! Brian-san! A tiny car for a tiny man! Hee-ya!” 

“Knock it off,” Brian said, giving a soft glare as he let out a huff and pulled a comic book out of a bag, and shoved his face into it. 

“Don’t be so mean to him.” Claire murmured, and John looked between Claire and Brian a moment before he said, “He knows I’m just bustin’ his balls. It’s a guy thing. You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Uh-huh, sure, I might not understand how guys treat each other, but I understand if you aren’t nicer to him, I won’t try on that string bikini I bought today for you.” 

John stared at her as he said in shock, “Wait…you actually bought that thing? With the strings… and the little triangles… and the tiny little —” John motioned to his nether regions, and Claire glanced at him and smiled. “Yup. Sure did, but you only get to see it if you’re nice to Brian.” 

There was a very amused snort from Brian in the back, still hidden behind his comic book but radiating a quiet satisfaction.

“Son of a bitch–” John said in a stunned, breathy voice before quickly turning in his seat and saying, “Yo, Brian…I’m sorry, man, of course you’d drive a truck…what was I thinking…in fact, I bet you’d have a wicked cool motorcycle, with like full seats and a helmet covered in flames…” 

Brian slowly lowered the comic, his eyes meeting John’s as he said with a much too pleased smirk, “You really think I’d want to drive a motorcycle? Those things are death traps.” he went back to reading, only for John to glare at him, “Seriously? You know Cherry bought a string bikini, and you won’t take pity on me? I gotta see that on her man–” 

“Pity is for the weak.” Brian mused, flipping a page in his comic book as Claire and Allison started to laugh. John reached back, snatching the teen's comic book away before tucking it into his coat, “You’re too impressionable for these things, they make you all heroic and shit. Knock it off, young man!” 

Brian looked like he was contemplating jumping through the seats to strangle the older boy when the little red car came to a stop, and Claire called out, “Andy! Hey! Over here!” 

Andy had just walked out of his father’s store and turned towards them with a wave. Allison was already getting out to run around and join him, while Claire followed suit, joining the pair, oblivious to the building tension in the car. John and Brian were still glaring at each other, John not backing down because it was his nature, and Brian because he had been hunting for that particular issue of Spider-Man for nearly six months. 

“You better back down,” John warned him, and Brian’s nostrils flared, “I’ve been looking for that issue for six months, if you don’t give it back–” 

“What? Huh? What you gonna do, shrimp?” John goaded, pushing gently at Brian’s chest, though the more petite boy didn’t back down, “Don’t come between a man and his literature.” 

“Oh!? Literature? Spidey-Man is literature now?”

“Yeah. It is.” 

“Oh yeah? Well, don’t come between a man and his fuckin’ girlfriend who willingly wants to prance around half naked! Eh? Ever think about that?” 

“You’re so gross.” 

“Ain’t gross yet, just wait until I tell you what we’re gonna do!” 

“How about you treat my friend with respect and stop fantasizing about doing her!” Brian snapped. 

Meanwhile, Claire was talking with Andy and Allison, unaware of the heat flaring in the car behind them, “We’re all going over to Brian’s, I think he is a little stressed about all of us showing up, so we were thinking we could park a few houses away and walk the rest.” Claire was saying, and Andy was nodding as Allison leaned on his shoulder. 

A muffled sound came from the car, but the three ignored it. “Are you saying I don’t respect Claire!?” 

“Clearly you don’t! Listen to how you talk about her! Give me back my comic book, you asshole!” 

“What’s you’re problem, nerd? You looking for a few bruises to go with those pink cheeks of yours?” 

Brian kicked at the back of John’s seat, but John grabbed his ankle from around the backrest, holding it tight, “You damage my girl’s car and I’ll take it out on your face, shit stain.” 

“You’re such an asshole!” Brian shouted, trying to pry John’s fingers from around his ankle, only for John to fist at Brian’s hair and yank his head closer, “Stop, dude. You’re making me mad!” that was a warning, he was trying to warn the kid, trying to tell him the control on his temper was fizzling out, that Brian needed to back down because there was only one way this was going to end. 

“I’m not scared of you…” Brian hissed, trying to rip John’s fist out of his hair. 

“No?” John asked through clenched teeth, eyes honing in on the younger kid who was wincing, face red but still trying to stare at him defiantly. 

“No! You’re my friend, even if you’re an asshole! And friends don’t hurt each other!” Brian squeaked, his voice breaking, only to feel John let him go, the blonde boy falling back and slamming into the backseat. 

“Bullshit, everyone is scared of me–” John groused as he tucked down into the front seat and put a boot-clad foot on the dash. 

“Only because you want them to be–” Brian said through panted breaths, holding his hand to the part of his scalp that was throbbing from John’s tight grip. 

John swung around, “You think I like being like this?” John asked angrily, sending daggers at the smaller boy, who wiped at his watering eyes and running nose. 

“Stop crying–” John huffed, sitting back in his chair, finally calm, “Fucking pussy.” Brian stared at the side of John’s face, the older boy looking incredibly disinterested all of a sudden. 

Brian felt something violent rise in his chest: anger, frustration, and something else, something he’d never felt before…at least…not like this. It wasn’t determination… perhaps it was resolve? He wasn’t quite sure, and he didn’t know what came over him, but he suddenly propelled himself forward, slinging his body between the seats and coming to sit in the driver's seat. “What are you doing, nerd?” John asked, and Brian could hear the very faint hint of alarm in John’s voice. Brian looked at him, his face tired, as if that little burst of aggression he’d given had taken all his energy away. 

“I’m not scared of you, and I’ll prove it!” Brian barked, suddenly putting the car into drive and making it lurch forward. 

“What the fuck–” John barked, the pair being jostled around as Brian was shifting terribly, gears grinding, and the car giving sickening jerks forward before he seemed to get the basic idea and took off. 

He ignored the sound of Claire yelling and didn’t glance in the rearview mirror, as seeing her running after them would have made him stop. John was trying to grab the wheel, but Brian resisted. 

“Pull the – pull the fuckin’ PULL THE FUCKING CAR OVER SHITHEAD! Watch out!” Brian managed a very sickening shift and narrowly avoided an oncoming car. 

“Okay! You made your point! You’re not a fucking puss— pussy now—p-pull the car over!” John yelled, the semi-violent jerks of the car making his sentences choppy. 

But something in Brian told him not to relent, and so he managed to turn down another street. They weren’t that far from his house, and if he could just get there, they would be fine. He didn’t think to look out for cops, and he was barely able to shift, use his turn signal, and keep his eyes on the road, but someone must have been watching out for him because they pulled up to the curb outside of his house, and he tried to shut the car off. 

“Set the damn brake!” John bit as the car began to roll, and Brian stomped on the brake and let John shift the gear to reverse, “Turn off the ca–turn it off!” John said, though Brian was surprised to hear laughter in the older teen's voice.  

When the car was safely parked and the brake was engaged, Brian stared at the wheel, his knuckles white from the tight grip he had on it, as whatever that earlier feeling was faded and clarity returned. “I just s-stole a car….” Brian whispered, eyes growing wide as he realized what he’d just done. 

“You just stole a fucking car!” John said, his voice saturated with utter disbelief, as well as a large amount of pride. 

“I just…stole Claire’s car…” Brian whimpered, his forehead coming to rest on the steering wheel as his body went numb, and a swirl of regret began to eat at his stomach. 

“Ah, don’t worry, she’ll get over it. Just buy her some expensive make-up or–” 

“I’m going to jail, that’s it, my life is over–” Brian said, currently slipping into a mild shock, “Nah, Claire won’t turn you in. Might slap the shit out of you though.” John teased. 

Brian’s eyes closed at the thought of Claire being mad at him, and he put his face into his hands. “Where the hell are we?” John asked, and Brian shook his head before he managed to get out around his hands a soft, “My place.” 

“Your place? Wait…you mean…that’s you?” John asked, looking out the window to see a two-story Victorian, drenched in cream colored paint with intricate details around the edges. It reminded John of a house he’d seen in a magazine. It featured various types of homes around the country and included a smaller article on a specific set of houses in San Francisco. He vaguely remembered it mentioning a Queen Anne style of architecture, but honestly, he had only been looking in the first place to see if any women in bikinis had been caught in the photos. He had been sadly disappointed, though he had torn a picture of a wicked log cabin out and hung it on his bedroom wall. 

He was more of a city guy, but some part of him liked the idea of having a cabin he could go to when he wanted to fuck off from the universe and all the shitty people in it. 

That being said, he looked at Brian and shot his thumb towards the house, “Tall and thin, just like you. Why the hell didja bring us here?” All traces of John’s malice gone, and Brian just shook his head again as he tried to keep himself from tipping over into a full-blown anxiety attack. 

“Yo! Brainy, it’s over and done. You can’t take it back. I’m sure Clark will get the girls here any minute. So why the fuck did you bring us to your weirdo house?” 

Brian leaned back in his seat, eyes glancing at the ceiling as he took a deep breath in, let it out slowly, and then said, “I... have something I want to show you.” 

“Moi? Little old me? What, you buy a nuddy mag all by yourself? Stealing cars and looking at porn, there’s a real man for you.”

“No…just…stop. I…made something for you. I just…wanted to show you.” Brian tried to explain, suddenly filled to the brim with anxiety of a different kind. 

This time, John gave him an odd look, “You mean, you weren’t joking? You got something in there you want to show me? This isn’t some weird April Fool’s day prank, is it? It’s not your dick, is it, cause I don’t swing that way…” 

“What? No! Just…come on.” Brian managed, feeling like he was three seconds from exploding on the guy and not wanting to get into another screaming match. He got out of Claire’s car, grabbing the keys and trudging up the gravel drive as he hung his head. 

John surprisingly followed, tucking his hands into his pockets and keeping his head down, his eyes scanning their surroundings nervously. Brian took comfort in knowing that John was just as uneasy as he was. 

Brian still couldn’t keep up with the older teen's constant shifts in mood and behavior. For a split second in the car, he wondered if John’s knowledge on where and how to grab to give the maximum amount of pain was something he had learned through his own experiences with his dad or if he just… instinctively knew. 

He seems so used to putting his hands on others, knowing just where to grab to hurt me, to make me back down. Weak spots that hurt like crap when they get grabbed or yanked on, but won’t leave noticeable marks. No way he figured that out on his own; that had to be experience. Jesus and I built him a bedroom in my home, where my mom and sister live. No, don’t think like that. John may be willing to rough up me or some asshole hassling the girls, but he wouldn’t hurt a woman….I know he would never hurt a woman….

Brian kept walking, his resolve once again firming up that this was the right thing to do, he wanted to do it, and that even if John turned him down, at least he had offered. John Bender was an absolute asshole, and despite how nice he had been the last week, at the end of the day, he was going to behave however he wanted, even if you were his friend. Brian didn’t have to put up with it; he could leave the group whenever he wanted, so he’d stay and put up with Bender’s bullshit until he couldn’t anymore. They were friends, even if it wasn’t the type of friendship Brian wanted. 

His parents' car wasn’t in the driveway, but he didn’t make to enter the house, knowing full well his father could have pulled into the garage. Brian pressed a finger to his lips, and John nodded, not even second-guessing why they would need to be quiet. 

The garage had been an add-on to the house, and though it was in good shape and looked nice, it didn’t quite match the ornate decorations of the rest. That being said, it was attached to the house and thus pressed right against Brian’s bedroom wall. He peeked through the garage door window and saw his father’s car. 

Entering the garage, Brian turned on the overhead light and then proceeded to pull down the ladder to the attic. John remained silent, looking around at the clean and well-organized space and the little red Dodge Aries parked next to a brown Chevy Cavalier. 

So, his old man makes decent money, but they definitely aren’t rich. Two cars, but basic models. Daily drivers, nothing flashy. The garage is clean, but there aren't many tools, so his old man doesn’t work on them himself; he probably pays some half-drunk grease monkey to do it. 

John spied a red toolbox on a too-clean workbench and sighed, not a completely useless old man, then he could probably do basic stuff…

“Up here, but stay quiet–” Brian whispered, and John leaned in and asked in a grave voice, “Are you planning to murder me?” 

Brian just gave him a look before he began to climb, and John followed, “You got a bunch of hotties tied up up here?” he continued to tease, which made Brian smirk and shake his head. 

Once Brian was up, he found the pull for the light and tugged at it before connecting the two sets of Christmas lights he had strung around the rafters, waiting for John to clear the entry. 

When John finally stood, he looked around and gave a soft whistle, “Whoa, hell of a hangout spot. What the hell are you doing up here? You a crime-fighter or something?” 

“No. I…made it for you.” Brian said sheepishly, wiping his hands on his jeans as he waited to see how John would respond. 

“I…what? What do you mean?” John asked, his voice filled with genuine uncertainty, which made Brian feel a little panicked. So, he went about showing John what he had set up. 

“No…look…I have a cot over here with a sleeping bag and a small gas stove set up, along with a makeshift bathroom. And I got all these magazines, some books, and even a cooler to keep food and soda in — and look…I cut this hole…so whenever you want, you can just give a knock and I’ll lift the poster in my bedroom and you can watch TV, I’ll put on whatever you want.” 

While Brian had scurried around, John had just watched, eyes following as Brian showed him the space that he had created just for John, “Oh, and it’s heat and temperature controlled….so…you know…cool in the summer and warm in the winter and we can sneak you in to shower and I can wash your clothes or…well…I hadn’t figured that part out yet since mom usually does the laundry, but–” 

“What is all this?” John asked, his expression unreadable as he stared with sharp, hard eyes at Brian, the smaller teen shrinking a little. He cleared his throat and said, “It’s… your new home…I mean…ahem…if you want it. You don’t have to…But I mean, the bridge is excellent and super cool, but it’s kind of close to your folks' house, and I’m not that far from the school. We could walk together–” John raised a sharp brow at him and Brian held up his hands, “-we don’t have to walk to school together; I just meant…I mean…you’d be safe here…your dad won’t have a clue–” Brian trailed off, his voice had been shrinking the whole time, unable to read John’s stone-like expression or his tense posture. 

John looked at him, his face expressing confusion and mild discomfort, “Why… did you do this?” 

Brian swallowed, unsure how to answer, and asked softly, “Truth?”

John replied with a scoff as he crossed his arms, “It better be.” 

“Well… the other day… when we were at your parents' house… when we followed you to the bridge and you were…hurt… and upset…you had a panic attack?” Brian saw John’s jaw tighten, hands fisting slowly, so he continued, his nerves sparking and propelling him forward, “I’m going to be honest, it did scare the shit out of me. You… scared the shit out of me. I thought, ‘you know, at any moment, he’s gonna go postal… hurt us or himself…’ but you didn’t. You got mad… but then you just cried… screamed… and threw a rock. You didn’t lay a hand on us… and I realized… I’d kind of been… a bad friend. I’ve been reluctant to get involved or help. I kept thinking we should just call the cops or the hospital or tell our parents what was happening. But… I realized after what you said… about having been in the system already… that… you’re always being handed off as someone else's problem.”

John looked away at that, jaw still tight, arms still crossed as he jutted a hip, and Brian could tell John was trying really hard to let him finish before he went off, so Brian pushed, talking faster, “-And seeing your old man–” Brian swallowed, “I mean, you know I’ve never seen… anything like that. I don’t… I can’t understand how a parent could do that… You know? I mean, my dad gets mad, but… It’s normal, mad. He doesn’t… my dad would never… ahem, sorry… it made me think about what I had… and what you don’t…and it’s not pity!” Brian assured quickly, “But… I read something once… about how… if they don’t leave you a seat at the table… You bring a folding chair. Of all of us, I… have the most stable family… and I had the money and means to… help… so… I made the choice to give you a folding chair… at my table. If you want it. ” 

John’s face was somewhere between confused by what he said and affectionately amused. “How much did all this cost?” he asked, his hands motioning to all the items that were clearly new and had never been used. 

“Oh, not…like…a lot. I just dug into my savings…but don’t worry, I’ve been doing other kids' homework for like forever, so I had a lot and…” 

“How. Much. Brian.” John asked, each word soft but extremely sharp, hearing his name leave John’s mouth in warning. 

Brian rolled his lips together, bouncing anxiously on his feet before he looked away, and murmured out, “One-fifty… ish.” 

John just stared, “Dude…that’s…like, what you make in a month of helping losers pass math.” 

Brian waved it off, “It was worth it. I had a decent amount saved up. It’s cool.” 

“Yeah? Well, it’s not to me. You have to let me pay you back.” John said, and Brian stared at him a moment before he tried to, once again, wave the older boy off, and John walked right up to him, “Let me pay you back, dude.” 

Brian met John’s dark eyes, seeing a stern stare, clearly saying this was not negotiable, as John added, “I’m not a charity case, I work too, I have some money squirreled away, I’ll pay you back.” 

“Sure,” Brian said softly, confused about why it was a big deal one way or another, but as soon as Brian conceded, John moved towards him, and Brian flinched, only to find himself wrapped in the older teen's arms. 

Brian was stunned, utterly floored, the smell of cigarettes and pot hitting his nose, John deepening the hug, and Brian swore, though he would take it to his grave, that he heard John give out a very faint and constricted cry. 

He didn’t hug John back because he wasn’t exactly comfortable with this proximity, and he wasn’t sure if John would even want him to, but the hug went on for a long moment. “Thanks, Brian.” John said much too softly, and Brian only nodded and managed a shaky, “S-Sure….c-can I have my comic book back?” 

John pulled away and wiped at his nose, hiding his face in his mess of hair as he pulled the comic from the inner pocket of his coat and handed it to Brian, still not looking at him, “Thanks…John.” 

The older boy managed a glance, watery eyes staring hard at him, almost as if he was memorizing Brian’s face, which left Brian to wonder… how often John actually saw them. 

Not in the context of their discussions during Saturday detention, in that regard, they all “saw” each other’s truths and personality, and who they actually were. But in that moment, as John studied his face, Brian had a thought: as if John was seeing him as more than just a face. He wasn’t entirely sure, but the way John was looking at him, with an expression he’d never seen before, was odd. John wasn’t wary of him anymore, which surprised Brian because he never expected anyone to be cautious of him, let alone John Bender. 

That’s what it is…after all this time…a whole week of spending time together…he didn’t fully trust me…until now. As if…somehow I could hurt him…me….hurt him….I don’t…understand. 

Brian cleared his throat, meeting John’s eye, “Look, I won’t ever pretend I understand what you’re going through, or what you’ve been through. I can’t. But I do know that I can give you this, and maybe for a bit, you can just relax, feel better, and maybe feel safe. Even if my parents find you, the worst that’s going to happen is they’ll tell you to leave and ground me for a few months for harboring a runaway without their consent. That being said, here… if you decide to stay, this is Mom and Dad’s schedule. You follow this, and they won’t catch you. I’d still be careful in case they randomly change things up, but for the most part, my parents do the same thing every day without fail; they are as anal retentive as I am.” 

John took the slip of paper Brian had pulled from his pocket, opening it to look at the schedule Brian had scribbled down, including notes on when he could sneak into the house for a shower or to use the bathroom, as well as which food wouldn’t be missed if he needed something while Brian was gone. 

The sound of soft shuffling from the ladder made the pair look over, and Brian grabbed John’s hand, yanking him towards his bedroom wall and raising a finger to his lips and hushing John, bending down to unplug the Christmas Lights. 

The main light was still on, but it was dim, and they were covered in shadows as they waited. The sound of feet and more shuffling met their eyes, and they both waited to see who was coming. 

The sight of red hair sent relief through them, and John moved forward as Brian knelt to once again plug in the Christmas lights. 

John helped Claire up, and Allison and Andy followed behind. As soon as Claire was able, she walked right up to Brian and punched him in the arm, “Don’t ever do that again!” 

“Sorry!” Brian winced out as he vigorously rubbed at his arm and looked at her with pleading eyes, “What would have happened if you had gotten pulled over!? That’s my car, you know! It could have gone on my record! Or I would have had to tell them you stole it!” 

Brian was floundering over his words, trying to apologize and explain simultaneously. Claire yelled at him in very hushed tones before she smacked his other arm and then shoved a finger into his chest. Brian just nodded and tried to explain. 

Andy and John watched in amusement, taking great satisfaction at not being the one on the receiving end of Claire’s ire. Allison had wandered over to the cot and had flopped down, stretching out and relaxing as the pair continued to bicker. 

Andy leaned closer to him and asked, “Not mad?” The older boy glanced at him before looking back at his girlfriend and sighing, “No. I should be. I hate fucking handouts, but the dweeb agreed to let me pay him back for all the money he spent on this. So…long as I do that it ain’t charity.” 

The shorter teen rolled his eyes, “You need to figure out the difference between charity and friendship. If I had the money and the space, I’d have offered too…so would Allison and Claire. 

“I’m…getting it…sort of.” John admitted, though he did so softly, not meeting Andy’s eye, so the shorter teen asked, “Think this will work?” 

John smirked, “Until his parents find out and call the cops, sure.” 

“You think they would?” 

“Pfft, imagine his mom coming up here to store something and seeing me butt ass naked brushing my teeth. The SWAT would be here in five minutes. Just enough time for me to grab my shit and get out.” 

“Then why did you agree? I mean, you did agree, right? You’re still here, didn’t take off.” 

John crossed his arms and leaned closer to Andy as he said, “Truth?” 

Andy nodded, and so John said softly, “The Brain wants to try and help me out, I’m okay with that. Besides, I don’t have much choice; it’s either here or under a bridge. Between you and me, that place is cool to hang out, but it’s freezing in the winter and too hot in the summer…and…the bugs are murder. Not to mention, bathing in the creek is cold as fuck. I’m tired, dude. Having a real roof over my head for a few days, maybe a week…I’ll take it. Plus, my old man won’t find me here. Gives me a chance to breathe.” 

He eyed the older teen for a long moment, John just smirking again as he watched Claire swat at Brian before heading over to gently take his girlfriend’s wrist and wink at her, “I think you’ve kicked the puppy enough. He won’t pull that shit again. Right?” 

Brian nodded profusely, but Claire jerked towards him, miming the action of punching him, which John caught with his hand as he turned and guided the fiery red head away, “Come on, let’s go look at the shit Brainy-boy bought me.” 

The blonde let out a relieved sigh as he was left standing alone, rubbing at the spots Claire had smacked and punched at in her anger. Nothing she did had been hard enough to bruise, all if it had been more so to show her distaste than to hurt him. Andy walked over to Brian and gently smacked him on the back, “Well, aside from grand theft auto, you did good, so…you know, good job.” To which Brian could only nod and let out another long, slow breath. 

The hardest part was over; he’d bought all the stuff, set up the space, and gotten John here without the teen going off on some long-winded rant about how he didn’t accept hand-outs. 

“It’s weird.” Brian said, to which Andy glanced at him, “What is?” 

Brian nodded towards John, who was showing Claire the makeshift bathroom, miming a squatting motion, which made Claire giggle and cover her mouth; the word ‘gross’ came from her lips. 

“Just…him. One minute he wants to rip our head off if we even think about giving him some food at lunch…next thing I know he’s totally cool with me giving him a place to stay as long as he can pay me back…it’s like…he’s different every day.” 

Andy digested that a moment before saying, “I think he’s just tired, man. He can only fight so many battles, and I think he realized his friends helping him out when he’s in a jam isn’t one of them.” 

Brian considered that for a moment before he said, “That’s…good, right?” 

“Yeah. Means he’s beginning to trust us. I mean, we’re all kind of beginning to trust each other, ya know? You really don’t think your parents won’t find him up here?” Andy asked. 

Brian shook his head, “No. Not if he stays quiet. Mom never comes up here, always has me or dad bring stuff up or take stuff down, and my dad…if he sees all this, he will just assume it’s all mine. Bender will have to follow a specific schedule, only being here after my mom and dad have settled in for the night, and leaving before Dad heads to work…that kind of thing. But if he can do that, it should be okay.” 

Andy just nodded before excusing himself and moving over to Allison, who was still zoned out on the cot. He crouched down next to it and spoke softly, “Hey.” 

Allison’s eyes cracked open through her dark hair. “Hey,” she said, her lips curling up into a soft smile, “Wanna come over tonight? Maybe watch a movie?” 

Her smile widened, and a soft nod was given before she pulled Andy closer and whispered something softly into his ear, making Andy pull away and blush profusely. 

Brian looked around the space, seeing his friends speaking softly, admiring his own handiwork, and realizing he’d done all this. He’d been bold, planned it all out, spent the money, and gotten it all set up without his folks finding out. Brian didn’t like to toot his own horn, but he was incredibly proud of himself, and incredibly happy it had actually all worked out. 

He walked to the center of the attic, clearing his throat, and the four others glanced at him. “So, what do we want to do with the rest of our Saturday?” 

John’s hand dropped from Claire’s chin, the older teen having been three seconds from kissing her as he said, “Well, you kids can go have fun, but sadly, Daddy has to go to work. Speaking of, can you drop me off? Hell of a walk from here.” 

Claire nodded, “Sure. Would you… Let me see where you work before I leave?” John debated, studying her for a long moment before he rubbed at the back of his head, “Sure, I can do that.” 

“Oh, can I go too?” Brian asked, as Allison nodded, “I wanna see where you work.” Andy just rolled his eyes as John sighed, “Jesus, what is this? Take your fucking kids to work day?” John asked, but Claire just took his hand and smiled, leading him towards the ladder, “How about hanging out with your friends for as long as possible Day?” 

John chuckled, “Sounds boring.” 

The group moved towards the ladder, Brian going down first to make sure the coast was clear, motioning for them all to come down quickly, and as they all left the garage, John slung his arm over Brian’s shoulders and said softly, “I owe you one, Brian.” 

“No worries, it’s what friends do.” 

“Sure, and now, you get to see me every day. Aren’t you so excited?” John released him and moved forward to bug Claire, Brian staring after him as he realized, for the first time, that John Bender would be with him every single day for however long it took him to get on his feet and find a new place to live.  

Brian swallowed thickly, “What the fuck did I just do?” 

PAGE BREAK 

John had Claire pull down a back alley. The shop he worked at was not in a bad part of town, but it wasn’t anywhere near the rest of the automotive shops on the main strip. The massive building rested in a back alley that ran the length of a decently well-off neighborhood near the center of town. As she parked the car, he turned to look at her and Brian, who was in the back seat. 

“Alright, wait here, I need to make sure Jake’s alright with you guys stopping in, if he isn’t, I’ll wave you off and you just leave, alright?” 

“What? Is this place, like, dangerous or something?” Brian asked nervously, and John very gently smacked his cheek, “No, Ahab, it’s a fucking business, you don’t just show up to your job dragging a bunch of teenagers with you. Just, fucking give me a minute.” 

John got out and walked across the wide alley, entering a very large garage, only one of the four doors open, and Claire waited patiently, seeing Andy’s truck pull in behind them with Allison in the passenger seat, the jock taking his cue from Claire and waiting. 

John appeared at the door a few minutes later and motioned for them to come in, his winter coat missing and sleeves rolled up. The group of four left their vehicles and slowly came to the open garage door, looking in nervously, only to stare in awe. 

“Holy shit–” Brian whispered as his eyes looked around. The walls were filled to the brim with parts, posters, tools, and charts. There were street signs, old neon beer signs, and an actual working stoplight hanging from the rafters.  

The massive garage was filled with motorcycles, several cars, and a heavily abused work truck, with at least three engine lifts, two oil pits, and even a spray booth. Several men were scattered among the piles of parts, shelves, tires, and what looked to be several dropped engines, mostly sticking to their work but glancing and waving casually without saying a word. 

“It’s… a real shop,” Brian said breathlessly, looking back at John, who was on his way over, “What the fuck do you mean, a real shop? Don’t be a dick.” 

“No, I mean, I just meant, I thought when you said your buddies shop… You just meant like… his normal garage… this… is– so fucking cool.” Brian said, looking around and being the first to break ranks and fully enter into the workspace. His eyes latched onto an open hood, and he peered down into the engine of a pearlescent blue muscle car. He turned back, motioning John over, the older teen looking confused, only to see excitement fill Brian’s face as he asked, “Is this real? Is this fucking real? It’s not a kit car, right?” 

“Hell no, that’s the real deal, Brainy boy.” John said, and Brian looked at Andy, “Dude, it’s a ‘56 Corvette, this is a fucking ’56 Corvette!” 

“And?” Andy asked, moving away from the girls and walking over to look at it, “Dude! Seriously!?” Brian’s voice cracked, motioning to the engine and expecting Andy to have a bigger reaction. 

“Will you educate him, please!?” Brian chirped anxiously, abandoning the conversation to round the car, and looked in through the window. “White leather, it still has the original white leather!” Brian cried in shock. 

John rolled the cigarette between his lips, “I’ll be damned, the fucking nerd knows cars.” 

“What the fuck is happening?” Andy asked in confusion, and Allison walked up to them with Claire in tow, “Don’t take this the wrong way, Andy, but I saw Brian’s room when I was helping him set up the attic; he’s almost as big a car nerd as you are, John.” 

“Yeah, why ain’t he ever told me that? I’d have brought him to the shop sooner.” John said, tapping the ash of his cigarette onto the floor. 

Allison gave him a look, “His mom and dad won’t let him work on them, apparently, they told him it’s a waste of time that he could be using to study. He’s going to be a big-brained scientist or accountant. Besides, I’m pretty sure Brian was too scared to try and talk to you about it, probably figured you’d write him off as a nerd just trying to get on your good side. He’s got a lot of models, really likes trucks… but the muscle cars… There are a lot. Pretty sure the real reason he wanted to be in shop class wasn’t for an easy A. He wanted to work on a car.” 

Allison nudged John, giving a wink, and John smiled wickedly at her, “Well, given I’m Daddy, I guess I’ll just have to show him the ropes, then, won’t I. Hey, Brain, come look at this old girl!” Brian popped his head back up, walking over to John, “Does your buddy have any Cameros?” 

“Not now, but we had a ‘62 about four months ago.” 

“Damn, that sucks, I’d have liked to see that.” 

“I’ll do you one better, may I present the classic, never going wrong, Corvette Sting-Ray?” 

“Look at the Kemm tail–that’s the Mako design…” Brian whimpered, and John said, “Good eye, wanna sit in it?” 

Brian looked at him, his eyes wide, his head bobbing in a frenzy as John opened the door, and Brian sank into the seat. “Holy shit–” he whispered. 

Claire, Allison, and Andy watched in amusement, something about John showing Brian around the shop somehow endearing, “Ironic, Brian secretly loves muscle cars, but he can’t drive a stick shift to save his life.” Andy murmured, and Allison and Claire burst out into heavy giggles, “Stop, that’s so mean!” Claire whispered as Allison snorted, “Dude, he was three seconds from dropping the engine out of your car–” Andy chuckled, Allison and Claire continuing to laugh. 

“So, you Johnny’s friends?” someone called, and the three let their giggles die as an older man, in his mid-thirties, walked out of what presumably was the office, a little square room with large glass windows shoved into the back corner. 

“Oh, yes, sir, sorry to bother you. We just wanted to see the shop. John’s mentioned it a few times.” Andy said respectfully, shaking the man’s hand, “Names, Jake, and I’m honestly surprised, Johnny never brings anyone around. I was beginning to think the dude was a real lone wolf. And.. who, may I ask are you two?” his dark brown eyes sliding over to the girls, “Allison.” the brunette offered, head down but smile soft, Claire noticing the slight blush on the girl’s cheeks. 

Claire looked at Jake, realizing that yes, the man was very handsome, short black hair slicked back, with smooth brows, a goatee, and a very kind smile, “Claire,” she said, meeting the man’s eye with confidence as Jake said, “Nice to meet you both. Now, I hope you won’t mind me asking, not trying to be a creep, but… which one of you girls is dating Johnny?” 

Allison shifted closer to Andy, proudly taking the jock’s hand, and Claire raised a hand, “That’s me.” 

Jake looked her up and down, not in an inappropriate manner but so as to take her all in, “Hm, hey guys, it’s the redhead!” Jake suddenly yelled, and across the shop, there were several calls and a few whistles, only for John to suddenly bark out, “Knock it the fuck off, ass wipes! She’s underage and you’re all god damn perverts! Sorry, Cherry, these dicks don’t have any manners!” 

“It’s fine.” Claire said, her face strawberry red, shifting a little closer to Allison but holding her head proud, “I bet it is.” Jake said with a wink, before calling, “Hey, Johnny! Come over here!” 

The man hadn’t even turned to look, hands on his hips as John walked over, leaving Brian to sit in the car, a stupidly big smile on his face, “What’s up?” 

“I left you that bike in the back. Joey, tell you the deal?” 

“Yeah, 300 and a bag, could you make it four if I finish it by tomorrow night?” John asked, with no hesitation. 

Jake’s brow rose, finally turning to look at him, “You finish that bitch by tomorrow night, and I’ll give you 450, plus two. Will your friends be staying around? The pool table is open.” 

“They’re underage.” John said, and Jake shrugged, “No one’s in the back, they keep their hands off the booze and behave, I don’t give a shit.” 

John hesitated, looking at Jake for a long moment before saying, “Only if Joey doesn’t go back there.” 

Jake chuckled as if he knew what John was implying, “Sent him home, came in high. And not the good kind. He’s on strike two. He fucks up again… the mechanic spot is yours. Full pay and a shop suit.” 

John’s eyes went wide. “Really?” 

“Well, you ain’t got any strikes against you, you do real good work, long as you actually show up consistently… no more of this when you have time shit, you’d have to be in every day, Monday through Friday, and some Saturdays. I’ve been understanding cause you have school, but it’s a business. So…” 

“I can do it. I mean, I could, if the spot opens. I can do it.” John assured, and Jake nodded, “Well, alright then. Let’s just hope Joey fucks up then, eh?” 

“Yeah. Sure.” 

Jake put a hand on John’s shoulder, “Take ‘em to the back, let ‘em know the rules, then get to work on the bike, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” John nodded, and Jake waved as he turned and walked away. 

“What was all of that about?” Claire asked John nervously. 

Andy murmured something to Allison, the girl nodding, and they walked over to Brian, who began rattling off information they didn’t ask for. 

“It means… I could have a real job… really soon.” John said, staring off into space, only to look at Claire and say, “I’d make a shit ton as a real mechanic, if I get it. I could have my own place and everything… I’d be set.” 

Claire instantly moved forward, pressing a palm to John’s cheek as she said softly, “Hey, I’m really excited for you, but maybe, take it a day at a time. Don’t bet all your money on one horse. You’ve got a lot on your plate as it is, and I know you want this, I can tell by the look on your face, but…” 

John's face darkened a little, doubt filling his eyes as he asked softly, “You don’t want me to be disappointed, right? Don’t think I can do it?” John asked, only a little resentment in his voice, and Claire leaned up and kissed him softly, “God no, I have full faith in you. But, well… if your heartbreaks, mine does too. It’s selfish, but I don’t like seeing you hurt.” 

John smiled at her, nestling closer, “Heartbreak breeds strength, Sweets. One way or another, I’m working in this shop. You’re just going to have to brace yourself for the fallout if there is any; this is one of those non-negotiables. Can you do that for me?” 

Claire sighed, her mind going back to that day on the beach, to John’s pain and suffering etched like Hell on his face, his body a temple for his father’s abuses, the pressure from Vernon for John to behave, needing to build a Mach Five, John’s list of promises and responsibilities growing while he was still trying to dodge his dad and dealing with Brant’s bullshit, not to mention the damn party he had agreed to take Claire to and now living at Brian’s until he couldn’t. 

“You’re going through a lot, and there are a lot of things going on; I just don’t want you to be overwhelmed.” 

“Hey, hey, easy Sweets. I don’t take on shit I can’t handle, and besides, if I can’t figure it out, I've got you and the three Stooges to help me work through it. But I gotta go for this, I can’t… I can’t not go for it. It would be fucking stupid to not take the job if the spot opens.” 

“I know. Just promise me, if it gets too tough, you’ll let us know. You don’t have to do it all on your own anymore.” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” John said, giving a tight salute before he leaned down and gave a slow kiss, Claire humming softly, as her hand slid across his stomach and John grunted and murmured softly, “Don’t get me worked up while I’m at the shop.” 

“Sorry,” Claire said with a smile, biting her bottom lip, before saying, “By the way, I haven’t forgotten about that talk you wanted to have. What time will you be off tonight?” 

John felt his gut twist a little, and he calmly pulled away from her, lighting another cigarette as he said, “Mm, I usually work through the night, crash on the couch when I need to. Jake gave the okay for you guys to hang in the back, but you’ll need to get home before I’m done.” 

“Well, they might, but mom and dad are going out tonight with–” Claire suddenly remembered where her parents were going, and a small shot of adrenaline was sent into her stomach. “Hey, Cherry, what’s up? You look sick.” John said, and Claire shook her head, “Oh, nothing, actually, I’ll talk to you about it later. You should get to work, it’s been like thirty minutes already.” 

“True. Come on, let me show you guys the back.” John said, letting it go quickly, and for that, Claire was grateful, noticing that in the shop, John seemed genuinely happy, his temper not nearly as bad. Whether it was all for show in order to keep coming back for work or if he truly was happier here, Claire didn’t know, but it made conversations with him just a little bit easier. 

John led the small group through the shop, a dirty, grease-covered door leading into a back room, dimly lit and smelling of smoke and beer,  “Alright, here are the rules. Soda in the fridge, don’t drink the beer. Jake’s letting you hang out, so fucking respect his shit, no underage drinking while the shop is open to customers. The pool table is free, but don’t fuck it up. The dart board is right there, darts are behind the bar, don’t touch the fucking gun that’s down there, or Jake will kill you, and then I will kill you twice. It’s empty, but just don’t fucking touch it. No drugs aside from weed, not that any of you are carrying, and if you play music, keep it to rock, metal, blues, or jazz, nothing else. Whatever you play back here gets piped into the shop, and they sure as hell don’t want any of that girly or nerdy shit playing. Lastly, the toilets are through that door. The green door leads to Jake’s house, so stay the fuck out. Everyone hear me?” John asked, arms crossed and face much too serious, “Yeah, we got it, we won’t cause any trouble.” Andy assured, as the other three nodded, “Brain, you wanna come watch me work for a bit?” John asked suddenly, and Brian looked at him with confusion, “Wha- really?” 

“Yeah, you can’t help, cause it’s for a customer, but you can watch. It’s a bike, though, that still interest you?” 

Brian nodded silently, and so John motioned him over, “Alright, then, come on.” 

Brian followed John back into the shop, and Claire walked over to the large bay windows, eyes watching John as he led Brian over to the bike he was set to work on. She sighed softly, her panic from earlier in the day setting back in, as she finally returned to the remaining pair and sat at the bar. It was a small thing, built by hand and wedged into a corner; the shelves behind it were filled with knick-knacks, framed pictures, and other random items that held no meaning for her but probably meant a great deal to Jake. 

The room looked like it had once been a regular double garage, and Claire realized it had been. Most likely, this had been the garage that used to connect the driveway to the alley, but Jake must have converted this into a quasi-breakroom/bar and then attached his shop to the back. If she were to walk around the whole thing, she would come out into the neighborhood and see the front of Jake’s house. 

The room, with a pool table, a dart board, a makeshift bar, several couches, and multiple round tables, was where Jake let his workers come to take breaks and hang out. Based on the fact that she spied several abandoned bras on top of the fridge nearby, they probably had parties here, too. She scrunched her nose at the sight and was pulled back from her musings when Andy spoke. 

“You notice how weird Bender is acting?” 

Allison gave a boyish laugh, “Well, Daddy’s at work, so he has to be professional.” 

Andy made a face, “Can we collectively agree as a group to not call Bender anyone’s Daddy? It’s fucking weird.” 

“No,” Claire and Allison said at the same time, laughing riotously as Andy just rolled his eyes, “You’re both weird, you know that?” 

For the first time ever, being called weird only made Claire smile, and though it was Andy that said it and he hadn’t meant it to be mean, she felt herself settle into the word, into the feeling of it, imagining herself rolling around in that weirdness that had been slowly creeping out of her the last few days and finding she had been enjoying it immensely. 

“I think…” Claire started, clearing her throat and trying to chase the giggles away as she did, “It’s because he’s actually happy here. I don’t know how to explain it, but he seems almost like… he’s calm here. And… just… happy. I don’t know.” 

“He’s in his element.  He is comfortable here. Where he belongs, and not trying to shove himself into whatever box people want,” Allison said, crossing her forearms on the bar and looking at the pair with a smile. 

“It’s actually really nice to see him so relaxed,” Claire said, once again standing and returning to the large windows that showed the shop floor, eyes searching and just barely being able to spot the top of John’s head over a pile of tires. 

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him be so respectful to an adult before either,” Andy said, and Claire glanced at him, “I bet it’s because Jake treats him like an equal, not a kid. I think… that makes it easier for John to be respectful.” 

“Makes sense. If he acted like this at school, his life would be a lot easier,” Andy mused, drumming fingers on the edge of the stool he was sitting on absently. 

“Maybe he could, eventually,” Allison offered, leaning forward and breathing out heavily onto the bar’s surface before drawing a smiley face into the haze. 

“Doubt it.” Andy said, “Dude’s always been a time bomb. It might be different here, but I don’t see school changing.” 

Claire sighed, looking back out onto the shop floor, her good humour from moments ago fading again as her thoughts once again settled on her party, thinking of John there all dressed up, surrounded by rich, entitled pricks, Brant just waiting for one mistake so he could pick John apart and humiliate him. 

He’s so different here, so comfortable and open. He'll probably be majorly uncomfortable at the party. 

John would lash out, maybe even make a scene, and Claire would be left on the spot to make a choice in front of everyone. She didn’t want to go to her coming-out party without him; she honestly loved the idea of dancing with him. Maybe even getting to see John all dressed up. But her brain kept coming up with all these horrible possibilities, especially now that her mother had informed her they’d already tried to arrange Brant as her escort.  

What the hell are we going to do? Brant said I’m one of 'them' now. Part of the “losers,” wouldn’t that mean he wouldn’t want to date me or try to get into my pants? I mean, maybe he won’t even want to take me now. Unless his dad forces him… do I just refuse to dance with him? Would he make a scene? I doubt it, not in front of all of his father’s friends and business associates. What the hell do I do? What is the right choice? 

The words she’d said to John only minutes ago were echoing in her head: You don’t have to do it all on your own anymore… 

Claire turned away from the windows, looking at Andy and Allison, who were talking softly. Andy sat on one side of the bar, while Allison leaned forward from the other side, looking like the bartender as she gave Andy a soft kiss. 

Claire finally walked over, sitting on the stool next to Andy’s, as she asked softly, “How… would you guys like to come to my party?” 

Page Break 

John had let Brian watch him work for nearly two hours; the smaller teen said little, though John went ahead and explained what he was doing as he worked. Going through the basics before moving on to the more advanced stuff. The bike wouldn’t consistently start, and Jake figured it was the electrical system, but John wanted to be sure. So, he started with the easy stuff, the no-brainers, as he liked to call them. 

Oil, gas, and coolant, John explained that the coolant system was a relatively new modification to motorcycles, so he double-checked everything before switching over to the electrical components. Most bikes prior to this were based on an air cooling system, but this particular bike was a newer model. 

Brian absorbed it like a sponge, remaining focused even as he sat in the chair and watched, John making sure to keep his patience in check whenever Brian asked a question. It wasn’t so easy to focus on work and answer questions; it slowed him down, but given Brian had just done him a huge solid, he was more than willing to let the younger teen watch and learn. 

“So, yeah, this is the main electrical run, it connects everything, battery, lights, radio, ignition switch, what I need to figure out is why it’s not getting consistent power…” 

“Any idea why?” Brian asked softly, still a bit timid, and John shook his head, “Not yet, it’s going to be a long night of pulling, checking, and searching. If I had to guess, I’m thinking something somewhere lost connection, or something got pinched… or…” John trailed off, leaning in closer and grabbing a flashlight, “Or?” Brian asked, and John mumbled something, “What?” Brian asked as he leaned closer and John gently waved him away, “Hey, uh, Brian, could you.. Like… maybe give me a minute?” 

Brian nodded quickly, “Oh yeah, sure, thanks for letting me watch.” The blonde stood and moved back towards the back, John calling and Brian looking back, “You’re good, just need to focus now.” 

Brian smiled and nodded, “No, I got it, you’re all good. I’ll be in the back.” 

“Right, thanks.” John let out a slow breath, murmuring to himself with annoyance, “See, you old fucking douche bag, that’s what you do when you start to lose patience, send ‘em away, didn’t have to punch him or nothing. Fucking asshole, drinking a beer and punching people…fucking psycho.” 

Brian entered the back, Allison and Claire shooting pool, while Andy sipped on a soda and watched, his eyes lingering on Allison’s backside as she shot. 

“Damn, you were out there a minute, John put you to work?” Andy asked, and Brian rasped, “As if, I love old cars and stuff, but it doesn’t mean I’m good enough to work on one. It’s just… a hobby. My parents think it's a waste of time.” 

Andy took a swig of his soda, “Yeah, speaking of, you know how much Bender is into that stuff, why didn’t you tell him?” 

“Yeah, right.” Brian laughed softly, “I tell him I like cars, and he spends twenty minutes making fun of me. I mean, I told him I wanted a truck, and he went off about how I’d be more likely to drive a Mitsubishi. You don’t invite others to mock you, Andy.” Brian said, and Andy raised his hands in a playful gesture of placation. 

“I’m just saying, sounds like you have more in common with that dude than I do.” 

“I mean, not really. I failed shop, that’s kind of a prerequisite to doing anything with cars. Besides, I don’t want to be a mechanic; I just like all the parts. The engine builds, the sounds they make, how fast they can go… You know, cars require a lot of math and science to make them go.” 

“True.” Andy said, tipping his soda towards Brian before turning back to watch his girlfriend bend over the table again, only to say absent-mindedly, “By the way, we’re all invited to Claire’s fancy party, so better find a suit.” 

“What?” Brian asked, looking at Andy in surprise, only to look back as Claire took a shot and sank three solids in a row, Andy and Brian staring in shock, and Claire smiled happily, “My brother taught me.” 

Page Break 

John popped into the back room twice, once to get a soda and once to grab a beer when the shop closed. The first time, he only stopped long enough to watch his girlfriend sink the eight ball and take Andy out without mercy. The second time, he watched as Claire pocketed a twenty from Jake, who stood in stunned silence, the cue held tightly in his hands, before sending a thumb towards Claire. “You don’t marry her, I will.” 

John only snorted, giving Claire a solid kiss before asking when they were heading home, “I need to head out, it’s a Saturday night, but my folks will bust my balls if I show up after eleven.” Andy said, and Allison hopped off her stool, ready to leave with her boyfriend, and tugged him towards the door. 

Brian looked at Claire, “You staying or going?” 

“I’m gonna stay a little bit longer.” 

“Alright, Andy, can you drop me off?” 

“Sure.” 

Brian walked over to John, handing him a key, “It’s for the garage only. I’ll get you a house key as soon as I can. Remember, you have to be quiet, don’t drop the ladder too hard. My folks have church in the morning. I don’t usually go, but if you need to leave, wait until after they are gone. If you need anything, just… ya know, talk through the wall, quietly.” John nodded, saying much too brightly, “Don’t worry, I won’t fuck up. I already got mummy and daddy dearest schedule memorized.” 

“Really?” 

“Fuck no. But I’ll be quiet as a fucking mouse. Head on out, thanks again.” 

“Yeah, no problem, see you later.” 

Jake was currently setting up the rack for another round as he asked casually, “You finally got a place to stay?” 

John glanced back at him as soon as the others were gone, Claire’s warm eyes glancing at John as he said, “Working on it.” 

Jake tucked the rack away before grabbing the cue ball out of one of the pockets, rounding the table, and dropping it. “You’re up, little missy, I wanna see your break.” 

Claire smiled sheepishly as she took position, giving a fluid and sharp push of the cue, breaking expertly well and sending the balls splitting across the table. 

“Shit.” Jake whispered, “Who the hell taught you to play?” he asked, and Claire flushed, “My brother. Before he left for L.A., he would take me downtown to the pool hall; it was one of the few things we did together. He’s a bit older than me. I was kind of… an oopsy baby.” 

“Oopsy or not, that’s a hell of a stick hand you got, and given how you look, you could hustle a lot of guys out of their–” 

“Hey, shut the fuck up with that nonsense,” John warned, arms crossing as he gave Jake a warning glare that spoke volumes. Jake held up a hand, “I didn’t mean anything by it, Johnny. Just stating facts.” 

“Don’t put ideas into her head.” John said sharply, and Claire nudged him, “I can think for myself, thank you. And besides, you think I’d ever go downtown and try to hustle bikers out of money? I’d be terrified. I just play for fun.” 

“Right, well, if you do play for money, take all he’s got.” John winked at her, and Claire smiled, “I’m going back to work on the bike. You–” and he pointed at Jake, “Behave.” 

Jake looked taken aback, “Did you just tell your boss to behave?” 

“The shops closed and you’re off the clock, and where Claire’s concerned, there’s no games or forgiveness, got it?” John said tightly, though he kept his voice soft. 

“Got it, don’t worry, I’m a gentleman, hands off, promise, just a fun game of pool before I hit the sack.” 

John nodded, “Sure.” He looked at Claire and said softly, “If you get uncomfortable, you can come out to the shop and sit with me.” 

“I’m fine. Besides, you know how shrill my scream is.” Claire joked, and John snorted, “Right.” 

John headed back out into the garage, glancing back through the windows before disappearing from view, Jake letting out a long whistle, “Damn, he’s got it bad for you. He does realize I’m like twenty years older than you, right? Trying to seriously flirt or hit on you feels like I’m flirting with my kid sister.” 

Jake took a shot, as Claire hadn’t managed to sink one when she broke, and the redhead scoffed, “Doesn’t matter. He’s way overprotective, but the way I see it, it just means he cares about me.” 

Jake’s ball missed the pocket, and he shook his head, a soft, divisive scoff leaving his mouth, “Jesus, you’re so young.” 

“What does that mean?” Claire asked, not annoyed so much as curious, lining up her cue and taking a shot, sinking a solid as she said triumphantly, “I’m solid.” 

“Alright, stripes it is. And what I mean is, just be careful, guys like Johnny are real ones, but that also means it’s easier to get burned…and sometimes you don’t realize you’re being burned until it’s too late. Don’t mistake possessiveness for protectiveness, kiddo.” 

Claire heard the clack of the balls but didn’t look at the table; she stared at Jake as she said, “John would never hurt me.” 

“Not on purpose. But, ever since I’ve known him, wherever that kid goes, trouble follows. It’s why I hired him as a part-time worker. He needed a break, and I was hoping the extra money would get him away from his fuck-wad dad. But even when he’s doing good he’s feeling bad.” 

Claire swallowed, “So… you know what’s actually going on with him?” 

“Bits and pieces. Not all of it, but he’s come to work with enough bruises to put the pieces together. Although this was the first time his dad actually showed up here. That guy is a piece of work.” 

“His dad… showed up here?” Claire asked, worry soaking her voice as she watched Jake take another shot, “Yup. I told him John didn’t work here anymore, but I don’t think he believed me. Just do yourself a favor, don’t get in between John and his dad. That old bastard won’t spare you, just like he doesn’t spare John.” 

“I don’t care. He’s not touching John ever again. We’ll make sure of it.” Claire said sharply, hand tightening around the cue, and Jake stood, looking at her from across the table, “Hey, baby girl, please… don’t be offended when I say this, but you’re just a kid, the hot mess your boyfriend is in… well… It's done once he’s eighteen. He just needs to make it one more year, don’t be the thing that trips him when he’s so close to the finish line.” 

Claire made a face, a little ticked off by the man’s words, even though he hadn’t meant to be offensive, “You don’t get it, do you?” Claire said, leaning down and taking a shot, sinking a ball before rounding the table and sinking two more, “John’s our friend, we’ll carry him across the damn line if we have to.” 

Jake watched, Claire slowly cleared the table until only the eight ball remained, shooting hard and sinking it, once again beating Jake, turning to look at him with a very confident expression, Jake smiling at her ruefully, “You know what, I actually believe you, kid. And if that’s the case, then I guess I’m rooting for you. Just be careful, a girl like you doesn’t deserve to get burned.” 

Jake winked at her, putting his cue in the stand and heading for the green door, glancing back at her as he said, “By the way, I was being serious. He doesn’t marry you, I will. Every man dreams of a ride or die woman.” 

Claire just rolled her eyes and smiled, “Creeper.” 

Jake chuckled, “Alright, fine, but just a little one.” he went inside, and she heard the door lock behind him, clearly indicating that he had no desire for her to follow him, which made her relax a little as she turned back to the pool table. 

Page Break 

Claire had wandered out to sit with John not long after Jake had gone to bed. They’d sat in comfortable silence, Claire watching John work. While she had zero interest in cars or motorcycles, it was still interesting to watch John work. He was incredibly efficient, very confident, and his focus was impressive. 

He barely talked to her, but Claire didn’t mind, enjoying the soft music playing from a small radio and seeing John so thoroughly absorbed in something other than her. 

She started to yawn, and John caught her nodding off more than once. He finally pulled away from the bike and looked down at her, cigarette smoke curling lazily as he said, “Time to go home, sleepy head.” Claire had smiled and nodded and gathered up her coat and purse.

John raised the garage door and walked Claire out to her car. It was past midnight, and as much as she wanted to stay, her parents would be home around 1 a.m., and she didn’t want them to go searching for her. 

They may use her as a way to spite each other, but they were no different than any other parents if she wasn’t home by a certain time. Though between her parents, her curfew was inconsistent as her father wanted her home by eleven and her mother just offered an “anytime before one, darling. You do need your beauty sleep.” 

Claire turned expectantly, leaning against her car as she smiled up at him, John pressing against her and giving her a long, languid kiss. A gentle heat washed through her belly, his hands cupping her face to hold her steady as his tongue pressed against hers. 

“You gonna be here all night?” She asked softly, gently pressing hair away from his face. She looked at the bruising, noticed the swelling had gone down, though he was far from fully healed. 

“Yeah. I’ll work through the night, crash on the couch, and then work all day tomorrow. I’m special, Jake lets me work on Sundays cause I’m going to school. It’ll change if I go full-time. I… won’t see you tomorrow, less you stop by.” 

“I could bring you lunch.” Claire offered, and John smirked, “Yeah? Little old wifey bringing her man lunch.” 

Claire rolled her eyes, “Whatever. I just want to see you before Monday. I’m… a little nervous. Especially after what happened with Brant on Friday.” 

John grunted, “He’s a psycho. Don’t let it get to you. Show no fear, right?” 

Claire smiled and nodded, “No fear.” 

“That’s my Cherry,” he murmured, leaning in for another sensual kiss.

Claire hummed, hands pressing under his flannel and rubbing soothingly at his sides. John rested his forehead against hers as he murmured, “I wanna fuck you so bad–” 

“You always say that,” she giggled, “It’s always true.” he promised, hands sliding from her face, and down to her waist, where he gripped firmly, “Are you always horny? Or just whenever I’m around?” Claire teased, and John scoffed, “That’s a loaded question, and I refuse to answer. But definitely when you’re around. Wanna get in the back seat? I have a ten-minute break that's due to me and blue balls the size of Kentucky–” 

“Don’t be gross,” she scoffed, and John argued playfully, “Come on, Cherry, don’t leave a guy hanging, a lot can be done in ten minutes.” 

Claire asked in a jokingly naive voice, clearly teasing him, “Only ten minutes? What a letdown.” 

John gave a grunt of a laugh, picking up on her teasing and rolling his eyes overly hard, “Jesus, Cherry, cut me some slack, I’m at work. I’d go for hours if you let me, keep you awake all night.” Claire’s amused smile faded at that comment, her mind’s eye suddenly taking her to some bed in a quiet room where John could spend hours with her, his body heavy on top of her, Claire’s legs spread wide as he groaned into her ear. She gasped softly and looked away, face flushing profusely as she tried to stop the dirty thoughts from playing like a film reel in her head. She suddenly felt uncomfortable and ashamed, her body reacting with a strong rush of pulsing arousal as her nails dug into John’s sides in shock. 

That’s new, I’ve never actually fantasized that clearly before… that was... really dirty.

Claire had wondered what going down on a guy would be like, and what it would be like to fool around, but she’d never actually imagined it. Not like that. The image of John on top of her, hips moving and their bodies flush, was way more raw and stimulating than she had been ready for. Guilt swirled then, though why she felt guilty about having those thoughts for someone she cared about was beyond her. Discomfort followed, and she suddenly wanted to hide her face from John’s gaze. This all happened in a matter of seconds, yet she felt herself shaking, a mix of excitement and shame rolling in her stomach. 

Why do I feel so guilty? Why do I feel like I did something wrong? I like John; he likes me. We’re in a serious relationship, but I feel like thinking about that makes me a bad person. I'm not a bad person for thinking those things, am I? Am I being a whore? I've taken things slow, haven't rushed, but... I guess, I have been going pretty far with him... but I wanted to... so... does that make me a slut?

John’s smile began to fade as he watched Claire suddenly shift uncomfortably and, in an instant, shut herself down. It happened so quickly, John was actually surprised. Claire had never really dissociated before. 

“Hey, Cherry, you okay? You look… really uncomfortable? Was it something I said?” John asked, she shook her head, “No… It’s not you. I just had a really dirty thought. I’m not sure how I feel about it. It… made me super uncomfortable, but I don’t know why.” 

John took her chin, raising her face to look at him, and under the pale lights of the alley, he was greeted by ruby red cheeks, hazy eyes, and lips that were caught between teeth. 

John’s gaze solidified on her, that face much too reminiscent of how she looked right after an orgasm. He leaned in, pressing her more firmly against the car as Claire moaned softly, “Cherry… were you thinking something dirty about me?” a wicked smile spreading across his lips as he continued to hold her steady. 

Claire nodded nervously, shaky hands pressing to his chest, her mind suddenly racing: Don't tell him! What the hell, he'll think you're a slut!

“What, pray tell, was my sexy little Cherry thinking about?” John urged her gently, voice soft and much too affectionate. Claire’s eyes fluttered closed as she shook her head. Don't tell him... just shut up, keep it to yourself. You shouldn't be thinking about it unless you're going to follow through. He'll get mad and say you're just being a cock tease.

“You better tell me or I’m gonna have to spank you–” he was joking, she could tell by the way he was smiling, but his hands slid to her butt, squeezing firmly as he jerked her closer, “John–” she whispered, “Tell me, don’t be embarrassed, I want to know what you think about… what you imagine me doing…” 

He wants to know? Maybe, if I don't give him the details, it's okay. “It… wasn’t anything special. Just you…and me…in bed, doing…things.” Claire’s face was red as a strawberry, embarrassment radiating through her as the discomfort grew. She wished she knew why she was feeling this way. They’d already done so much, kissing, touching, oral, fingers… they’d both cum. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done anything with him. Still, that image of them so thoroughly connected had left her feeling so aroused and yet incredibly dirty, and not in a good way. 

We've done so much together, I was really starting to trust him with my body, but this... too much. Thinking about it means I want it right? So if I tell him he'll think I want to do it, but... I'm not ready... and if I do it, then I'm a slut. But I know I want him, I know I care about him, so it's okay, right? Right? 

“Yeah? Were we naked?” John suddenly asked, Claire swallowed, but managed a nod. Despite her discomfort, she didn’t want him to stop asking. She wanted to tell him, but at the same time, she wanted to smack herself for having the thoughts in the first place. The discomfort wasn’t coming from John’s advances, and it wasn’t even coming from the idea of sex itself. More from the idea that she couldn't just give herself away like that, couldn't let something happen that would take away her value. 

My... value? Is that all I'm worth? No, I know better than that... I'm worth more than my body... I know that... but then why do I feel like... this? 

John’s mouth grazed her ear, “Was I inside you?” 

Her stomach twisted violently, not in nausea but in arousal, her knees shaking a little as her toes went numb and her mouth seemed to dry out. Claire nodded again, nails digging at his chest as she whispered, “I didn’t mean to–” 

John's body stilled at that, pulling back to look at her with confusion, “Hey, why do you sound upset? It’s hot. Nothing wrong with a girl dreaming about her guy.” 

Claire finally met his eye, the sudden cacophony in her head quieting for a moment, “Really?” she asked with a soft smile, “No. Why would there be?” John asked, but Claire shook her head softly, “It feels wrong, like… I’m… being slutty.” Claire admitted, looking down, but John was insistent, his voice remaining calm as he said, “Nah, you like me, and I like you, and we’re dating. It’s normal. I think naughty things about you all the time.” 

“Yeah, but you’re a guy,” Claire murmured, and John raspberried softly, “What are you? A machine? Claire, you’re a fucking human being, a person, flesh and blood. Stop acting like you being horny or thinking about me like that is a crime. Jesus, enjoy yourself a little.” 

Claire finally smiled, some of the discomfort ebbing away as she looked up again, meeting his eye and smiling, “Thanks. That… helps a little. I don’t normally have… thoughts like that. It kind of… made me feel bad… like I was… being a whore or something.” 

John stared at her for a long moment before he asked, “What the hell kind of sex talk did your mom give you, fucking Christ?” 

The redhead looked away, “The same as every other girl, I suppose, keep my legs closed, don't get pregnant, no man wants used goods, just normal stuff, I guess.” 

John let out an incredibly long and slow breath through clenched teeth before murmuring under his breath, “Fucking purity culture bullshit.” 

Claire raised a brow, “What?” 

“Nothing, but I’m going to say something, and you’re probably gonna get mad, but it needs to be said.” 

“Alright?” Claire murmured, slightly confused as John took her chin in his fingers and raised her face, “It’s your body. I don’t know shit about feminist stuff, but as far as I am aware, what you do with your body is your business. Fuck your mom, fuck your dad, fuck the bitches at school, and fuck anyone who makes you feel like shit for wanting to be close with someone. I get it, some people sleep around, girls and guys, but just because you have sex or touch yourself and think dirty thoughts doesn’t make you a god damn whore. As for being “used goods,” it goes without saying you're not a god damn good to be traded or sold. I think you need to be made aware of the large percentage of the male population that really doesn’t give two flying fucks if a woman’s had sex before, if he likes her, he likes her, body count is irrelevant…. Well… to a degree. I mean, if a person is batting a thousand, they may need to rethink their life choices… or talk to a shrink, I don't know.” 

That last part made Claire laugh, and she pulled her face from his hands, hugging him hard, sighing with a soft contentment as the discomfort faded away. He somehow always knew how to make her feel better, and Claire wasn't even completely sure he realized how good he was at doing it. She only hoped that if John ever needed a pep talk, she'd be able to return the favor. He held her for a long while, the silence easy and the night cold. Her body eventually calmed, still lightly aroused but no longer shaking, and the strange sensation of feeling torn and guilty had faded. 

“So… now that we’ve cleared that up, I gotta ask–” John started, pulling back to meet her eye, and Claire smiled, “What?” 

John kissed her softly, his arms squeezing her just right, then he pressed his lips to her ear again, “Those dirty thoughts you were having...was I fucking you, Cherry?” His voice was low and thick with want, his hands caressing her ass gently, and Claire swallowed, “If I say yes, are you going to try and get me into the back of my car?” 

John shook his head, “No, but if you say yes, it’s gonna make me want you more.” His lips pressed to her neck, kissing gently as Claire moaned softly into the cold night air, “Yeah, I was imagining us doing it…naked…and you were…doing me hard.” Her face flushed profusely, arms wrapping around his neck as her eyes scrunched tight, heart hammering from saying something so wicked out loud. 

All I did was say it, I'm not going to act on it... It doesn't make me a bad person to admit I want him sexually. It's okay. It's normal. I'm normal. 

“Fuuuck-” John groaned out, his nails digging into her ass as he pressed himself more firmly against her. 

“You need to let me fuck you. It’ll be really good. I promise.” 

Claire felt her breath catch in her throat, John’s tone filled with lust, his hands sliding down her legs, “John–” her voice barely above a whisper, “I think–” John said quietly near her ear, “If I was real sweet, and said all the right things… and warmed you up real good… you’d spread those perfect thighs of yours…and you’d let me press in real slow–” 

Nearly lost in his words, Claire realized what he was doing, talking dirty to make her hot, normalizing something that made her uncomfortable, and though her cheeks were red and moisture was building between her thighs, she felt oddly exposed doing this in a back alley. 

She bit her bottom lip, faint words leaving her lips, “We’re… outside your work.” 

“And? Can’t I have a nice little chat with my girlfriend?” John asked, mouth coming to gently kiss and nip at her jaw, which made Claire moan softly, “Maybe I just don’t want my girl feeling shitty about having dirty thoughts. Let me tell you mine.” 

“Ah-okay,” Claire breathed, “You on your back, naked… legs spread wide, my dick pushing in slow, tits bouncing as I fuck you real good… you cumming all over my dick…” 

Claire’s thighs pressed together hard, body wound tight, “Would you…cum inside of me?” she whimpered, a hand splaying over her face in utter embarrassment, but the words had come so suddenly she hadn’t thought twice about them. 

John shivered, “You want me to cum inside of you, Cherry?” 

Claire couldn’t respond; she couldn’t nod or shake her head, couldn’t speak or moan, simply frozen by the question, her mind once again creating an image of John pressing deep, back arched as he came, and Claire feeling it. 

Would I feel it? Do you feel that when it happens? What’s it like? Would I like it, or would it be gross? I want him so badly, but... It's just hormones, right? Or... is this real? 

“Cheeeeeerry–” John called in a gentle sing-song voice, “Don’t leave me hanging… where am I gonna cum?” he urged, hands gliding up her body before taking her face in his hands and pulling her up to look at him, “Where am I cumming, baby?” he asked again, eyes much too intense and Claire bit her bottom lip, mind racing as her breath came heavy. 

“Mmm, guess I’ll have to ask again later, breaks over,” he murmured against her lips, before giving her a deep but surprisingly gentle kiss. 

Claire relaxed, John clearly letting her off the hook, the pair of teens extremely hot and bothered and hormones racing, but John knew he needed to get back inside, and Claire needed to get home. He wanted her to answer desperately, but also knew that pushing her too much might upset her. She was struggling with her desires, and though John didn't really understand that struggle, he would be as respectful as his horny teenage brain would allow. 

This little conversation told him two things: one, she was curious enough to be thinking about it, and two, that she wasn’t as scared as she had been, though she still wasn't ready. John had made the decision from the beginning of all of this that he would not pursue, push, or pressure Claire at all in regards to sex. But if she came to him, ready and willing, wanting him to fuck her, or make love to her, or even just to let her feel him, he would not hesitate to give her anything and everything she wanted. 

It was all going to be at her pace, though; he wasn’t above being a dirty perverted teenager, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to tell her no if she asked. 

“Will you do something for me?” John asked, kissing her lips, and then her jaw, and then her forehead, “What… is it?” Claire managed, tongue gently licking her lips as brows furrowed and she was seriously struggling with the desire to go back into the shop with him. 

“When you get home, take a shower, crawl into that big comfy bed of yours, and try touching yourself to those dirty thoughts of me. And when I see you next… tell me how hard you came.” 

“What? Why? Don't be gross.” Claire giggled as she pulled back, and John let her go, the pair actively disentangling to attempt to cool off, and John winked at her, “Trust me, just try it once, I bet you’ll like it, and if you don't, nothing lost. Besides, might make you more comfortable with all those dirty, naughty thoughts you have in that pretty head of yours.” 

Claire laughed, shaking her head, “No promises.” 

“Just think about it, Cherry. And… here–” John handed her a piece of paper he pulled from his pocket, “Call the shop when you get home. Let me know you got there.” 

Claire nodded, taking the slip of paper before walking forward and kissing him again, sliding her tongue into his mouth and pressing her fingers through his hair, “Promise.” she whispered and John struggled to turn away, his hands burning to touch her but he had to get that bike done by tomorrow night, and as much as he wanted to continue this conversation, he knew it was time to let her get home. 

He watched her get into her car, watched as she headed down the alley, and for a moment after she was gone, he continued to stare, body still wired, brain churning harshly as he considered that the “no chance in hell” had somehow turned into “a tiny sliver of possible.” 

As he lit another cigarette and counted how many he had left, John found himself wondering what it would feel like to have sex with something he genuinely loved and cared about. Somewhere in his twisted heart, he hoped that if they did, he’d be able to show her how much he loved her.