Categories > Movies > Breakfast Club > Next Time Around
Becoming A Regular Habit
0 reviewsMonday came and nothing changed. When five teens can't find the courage to like who they want to like, they are lower than ever. What happens when they land in detention again, one year later?
0Unrated
Brian Johnson watched his breath appear in front of his face in large, bellowing clouds. The appearance of it just made him subconsciously cold.
Of course it was mid-February, maybe he just wasn't noticing.
He watched as the bushes outlining Shermer's most elegant streets whizzed by in all of their green, brown, and white glory. He recalled a time in his life when he wondered what it would be like to be rich and successful living on the wealthy end of town. A time where every time his father drove him down these streets he would have his nose pressed tightly against the glass pane of the car window; a time where he cared so greatly about where his life would take him; success being the only acceptable option.
Well that was then...this is now.
He looked to his left at his father; Ralph Johnson was in his early forties and looking older by the day. He had a rambunctious seven year old to look after, a stick in the mud wife, and a brainiac turned delinquent son. Brian could recall a time about one year ago when his father actually had some color in his hair; a time when the frown lines on his cheeks weren't so obvious. Brian wondered momentarily if he was the direct cause of that stress.
Ralph glanced to his right at Brian and sighed. He turned his gaze back to road and opened his mouth to speak: "Son, I have noticed that this weekend trip has become a somewhat regular habit for us now."
Brian rolled his eyes and returned his gaze back to the bushes and sidewalks. Ralph just sighed once again and took a left hand turn down an even quieter street. "Where did you get the drugs, Brian?"
Brian snapped his head around to stare at his father incredulously. "Excuse me?"
His father's frown deepened considerably. "Bry, we used to be so close...what happened? For the last year or so you have been so closed off and your mother and I are worried..."
Brian narrowed his eyes and cut off his father with a bitter laugh. "I'm so sure you are...I'm still bringing home the grades, so why don't you back off when it comes to what I am doing in my personal time. I'm eighteen now, I got the scholarship and gave you guys the parent-of-the-year reputation you wanted...leave me alone."
Ralph Johnson widened his eyes; it was the most his son had said to him in weeks, and the outburst surprised him. "Brian how could you possibly think..." He cut himself short and wondered exactly what happened to his son.
Brian, on the other hand, just rolled his eyes and watched the passing scenery outside. He sometimes felt guilty for doing this to his father but he figured it was the best thing for him. Ever since an incident involving a flare gun about one year ago, Brian had been on a downward spiral into his own pit of self hate and oblivion. The 'F' he had received in his junior level shop class had knocked him right out of the Honor's List and ever since then he has stuck to the basics: trig, calculus, chemistry, biology, physics, English, and computers. Never again did he - or would he - take another art, gym, shop, music, French, or anything he would consider to be an easy way to maintain a grade point average. He was a lowly science dork and he knew it. That didn't mean Brian liked it.
He had gotten his first detention exactly three days following the flare gun incident. He had met a few people in there that - he was certain - helped him to overcome his uptight demeanor. They had gone through the whole day together coming out of their shells and being their true selves; telling each other secrets, breaking rules, he even cried...and danced. He had left that afternoon feeling like a new person; he was convinced that he had made some friends, his thoughts of suicide were over, and that all of his problems surrounding his home and school life would begin to make more sense.
Of course detention was detention and Monday was a whole other matter.
He remembered distinctly thinking Monday afternoon that it was just the first day and progress was still to be made. Days and nights passed, and weeks and weekends, finally the months went by and the humiliations and bullying...stereotypes and clichés...they all continued. Closed minded ignorance surrounded him everywhere he went. Even the weird girl with no friends wouldn't hang out with him.
Brian felt lower than ever.
He never remained friends with any of them but there was one person out of the group he occasionally met up with - only to discuss business of course.
John Bender was the person who first introduced him to the wonderful world of weed. Brian realized that, even though marijuana was plant, it was still an illegal narcotic like acid or cocaine. He had been a little nervous and scared at first but as soon as that smoke filled his lungs a fun and happy side of him came out. He felt stress free and no one in the world could touch him while he was on his smoking clouds of internal heaven.
So he kept doing it. If no one else was gonna care, why should he?
The first time he had visited Bender behind the school in the parking lot he was on the receiving end of laughter. As soon as he pulled out the three twenties the laughing had ceased.
From that day on Brian went back and forth to visit John about once a week. Bender asked him no questions, and Brian asked none himself. Not once did the topic of the detention or the Breakfast Club ever pass between the two of them; they just always pretended they never knew of each other before. Bender for reasons unknown (although Brian could guess), and Brian for fear of getting his ass shoved in a locker.
The trips to the back of the school had continued all the way up until about Thursday. Twice a year the school - with the help of the Shermer Police Department - brought in the canine unit for routine drug inspections. Brian really didn't have much knowledge of the workings of the police, but apparently the rest of the school's criminals did.
The whole school was swept clear except one locker. That locker was definitely bad luck.
Brian glanced at his father one more time as they pulled up to the front steps of Shermer High School. His father returned the gesture with a grave nod of the head. "See you later Bry...let's not do this again, okay?"
Brian said nothing as he stepped outside the car. The cold wind blew in his hair as he stared at Shermer High School long and hard. "Pick me up at four."
And with that Brian marched up the steps of the school in silence. He was the first one to reach the library.
... ... ...
Richard Vernon stared intently at the piece of paper in his hands. It wasn't very often now a days that he had to supervise detention. No, ever since he had been promoted last June to vice principal he rarely ever had to make a Saturday appearance.
It was late last night when he was watching a few infomercials that he received a phone call from Mr. Ryan stating that his mother had died and he had to drive down to Peoria early in the morning to visit with his father. Richard, being the one in charge when it came to student discipline, grudgingly obliged to take the position for him.
The morning had started off normal for him; he stopped off at the local coffee shop and got his usual black coffee and vanilla dipped donut, and scoped out some of the female joggers using the school's track. It had even gotten better for a few moments when he stopped down in the basement of the school to watch the morning exercises of the senior girl's swim team.
Yes, all was going good until he reached his desk at 6:45.
He had thrown his jacket carelessly over the back of his black, spinning desk chair and slumped down into the barely comfortable piece of furniture. Then he picked up the detention list and remembered why he was glad he didn't have to do supervision duties.
Andrew Clark, Claire Standish, Allison Reynolds, Brian Johnson, and John Bender.
He was stuck with those spoiled little pricks again. He had the exact same list of students sometime last year; although he had to supervise many detentions last year that one stood out to him the most.
Richard always hated doing the Saturday detentions; the pre-school or post-school detentions weren't so bad; but the Saturdays were reserved for the students who committed the more punishable crimes. Vernon wondered what ever happened to the good old days when you could just suspend a student and then not have to deal with them.
That particular Saturday was the same as all of the others; early, miserable, and irritating. However, this particular day gave him a much larger feel of authority...he decided to have some fun. He made fun of the brainiac, threatened Bender, threw around detentions like they were going out of style, and watched Miss Patrick, the swimming coach, do her afternoon skinny dipping session. When he grew tired of it all he grabbed himself a 12 pack and read through all of the confidential files with Carl, the janitor.
All was decent until he came into his office the following Monday morning.
...
"Vern, can I see you in my office for a few moments?"
Richard had nodded his head and followed Mr. Chambers into the office. Chambers was the principal at the time and had a no nonsense attitude. Vernon merely thought nothing of it and closed the door behind him.
"What is it, sir?"
"We have a little bit of a problem," he raked his fingers over his bald head and placed his glasses down on the desk. "Mrs. Smith called me up this morning."
Richard cocked an eyebrow. "The librarian?"
Chambers nodded his head gravely. "Yes. She said that there appears to be a great deal of damage done in there resulting from this past Saturday's detention."
Vernon's demeanor slumped and his palms got a bit sweaty. "Are you sure it wasn't from Friday...or even Thursday?"
Chambers sighed and folded his hands together. "No...she does a routine check at the start and end of every shift. It was done on Saturday. What I am trying to figure out is how any damage got done while you were supervising."
Vernon felt his heart beat speed up and his stomach turn. "Well sir, it could have happened while I took a bathroom break, and could have been insignificant enough for me to miss during the routine check at the end, sir."
Chambers' eyebrows rose angrily. "You see Richard, I cannot see how two broken doors, a large hole in the ceiling, food on the floor, shredded books, and even a broken clock cover in the gymnasium could be missed."
Vernon felt the heat rise to his cheeks and he swallowed hard. "To tell you the truth sir, I wasn't feeling very well all day on Saturday. I had stayed in my office with the library door open to supervise them and made quite a few bathroom trips. To be completely honest I was feeling so awful by the time four o'clock hit that I did not even do my routine check up afterwards. I'm so sorry."
Chambers nodded. "Well I'm sorry that you came down with something Richard. You are an exceptional teacher in this facility and I would hate to see you go down for something like this."
"I understand, sir..."
"But I have no choice but to give you a reprimand for this situation. You will be getting a write up put on your record for this."
Vernon's mouth dropped in distaste. "You're serious?"
Chambers nodded solemnly. "Yes I am. And once again I apologize for you being ill, but frankly Richard you should have called in sick...someone would have surely filled in for you."
"I understand, sir...I won't let it happen again."
Chambers nodded and stood from his seat. "I know you won't Richard, you are an excellent employee. I will try and see to it that this incident won't be taken into consideration in June when the Vice Principal position becomes open for applications."
Richard nodded and stood from his seat, shaking Mr. Chambers' hand before he left the room. He was angry at himself for letting this kind of thing happen, but he was even angrier at the immature brats who committed these crimes.
...
Vernon looked up from the paper in his hands and stared at his clock: 6:55. He had five more minutes before he had to face those little punks once more.
This time he wasn't going to let that happen again.
... ... ...
"Where the fuck are my boots?"
James Bender looked up from the breakfast table and grinned lazily at his younger brother. "What the hell are you babbling about?"
John glared at his older brother and threw another cushion off the couch. "My fuckin' boots! I can't find them...where the fuck did you put them!"
James narrowed his eyes and took another drink of his whiskey flavored coffee. "How the fuck am I supposed to know? You think they were on my feet or somethin'?"
"Will both of you shut your ugly traps! I'm trying to sleep!" A loud roar came from the back bedroom of the small, one storey house. The boys looked at each other with disgust and continued on with their activities.
"Where the hell are you goin' so late anyways?" James asked.
"It ain't late you moron! It's morning!"
James looked over his shoulder to the clock on the stove. "Well...would you look at that..."
"Oh yeah, look at that," John drawled sarcastically, causing his brother to laugh. John and James were pretty close in age, about two years apart. Although they bantered and bickered back and forth they were pretty close friends. John looked up to his older brother in a lot of ways, whether he would say that out loud or not.
"So seriously, where are you going?"
John raised his boot up in the air triumphantly and threw the other one in front of the door. "Guess..."
"Will you two ass clowns shut your damn mouths before I have to come out there?"
James laughed. "Early morning date with Dick?"
John nodded and sat down on the floor to ties his boots. "You know I don't even know if I'm supposed to be there today or not. I just figured since I've had one...oh...every week for the last year or so that I had one today too.
James shook his head and laughed. "You know, you keep that shit up and you are gonna end up breaking my record."
John smiled, impressed with himself. "Getting intimidated are we?"
James stood up and threw John's long grey trench coat at him. "You better watch your mouth you little punk."
John smirked and threw the coat over his shoulders. "Don't worry...I won't tell anyone." He dodged his brother's on coming arm and stumbled out the door, almost crashing over a skid of ice down the drive way. For a mid-February morning John thought it was pretty nice out. There was a 4 inch blanket of snow covering the Shermer lawns, with giant waves of snow banks sitting at the side of the road from a recent trip through the streets by a snow plow. For not having very many warm clothes, strangely, John liked the winter. He could push kids in the snow, shove snows down girls' shirts, and 'accidentally' bump into old ladies when he was walking down the icy sidewalks. Winter was so much fun.
He looked up at the sky and noticed that the clouds were looking heavy and grey. If his instincts would serve him correctly, they'd definitely be getting a snow day on Monday.
He thought back to his destination and smirked; every Saturday was the same damn ritual for him. Wake up cranky, try and find something he lost the night before, walk through the fields and sit in a fucking library all day taunting Dick. If he hadn't done the same routine a hundred times before he would been appalled by the fact.
He hopped the four foot fence leading into the school yard and made his way across the Shermer High football field. He wrapped his trench coat protectively around his chest as the open winds of the field slapped at his body. There wasn't much surrounding the field besides a few rows of bleachers, so there really wasn't much to protect him from the nasty wind chill factor.
Before he knew it he'd have icicles hanging from his face.
He looked up against the blowing dust, trying to make out the building one hundred feet away. He wondered momentarily what would happen today. Ever since a year ago, or so, he would subconsciously ask himself the same question every time he strolled up. It was strange day for him for sure; he had told a bunch of dorks about his personal life and then made out with the prom queen in Dick's closet. Even though the Breakfast Club was a distant memory in his mind he still had the occasional thoughts about it in his head.
Probably because no other detentions he had sat in since then have been quite as fun.
He stepped up the front steps to the high school and whipped the door open roughly. He knew that the supervisor for the day would hear him coming down the halls and the smirk would drip right off of their face. John missed the good old days when Vernon was there all the time. The guy couldn't stand Bender let alone be civil to him. And although Bender despised Vernon just as much, he couldn't help but smile thinking about the detentions they had together. It was pure hell in making...
He threw open the library doors and wasn't even four steps in when he stopped dead in his tracks. There before him was a sight he was definitely not expecting to see. Four familiar faces sitting in four fairly familiar seats with frowns and looks of horror on their faces. When Dick came in behind him and scowled...well that topped it all off.
He looked around the room and put his hands on his hips dumbly. "Does else anyone feel an odd sense of de-ja-vu here?"
TBC
Of course it was mid-February, maybe he just wasn't noticing.
He watched as the bushes outlining Shermer's most elegant streets whizzed by in all of their green, brown, and white glory. He recalled a time in his life when he wondered what it would be like to be rich and successful living on the wealthy end of town. A time where every time his father drove him down these streets he would have his nose pressed tightly against the glass pane of the car window; a time where he cared so greatly about where his life would take him; success being the only acceptable option.
Well that was then...this is now.
He looked to his left at his father; Ralph Johnson was in his early forties and looking older by the day. He had a rambunctious seven year old to look after, a stick in the mud wife, and a brainiac turned delinquent son. Brian could recall a time about one year ago when his father actually had some color in his hair; a time when the frown lines on his cheeks weren't so obvious. Brian wondered momentarily if he was the direct cause of that stress.
Ralph glanced to his right at Brian and sighed. He turned his gaze back to road and opened his mouth to speak: "Son, I have noticed that this weekend trip has become a somewhat regular habit for us now."
Brian rolled his eyes and returned his gaze back to the bushes and sidewalks. Ralph just sighed once again and took a left hand turn down an even quieter street. "Where did you get the drugs, Brian?"
Brian snapped his head around to stare at his father incredulously. "Excuse me?"
His father's frown deepened considerably. "Bry, we used to be so close...what happened? For the last year or so you have been so closed off and your mother and I are worried..."
Brian narrowed his eyes and cut off his father with a bitter laugh. "I'm so sure you are...I'm still bringing home the grades, so why don't you back off when it comes to what I am doing in my personal time. I'm eighteen now, I got the scholarship and gave you guys the parent-of-the-year reputation you wanted...leave me alone."
Ralph Johnson widened his eyes; it was the most his son had said to him in weeks, and the outburst surprised him. "Brian how could you possibly think..." He cut himself short and wondered exactly what happened to his son.
Brian, on the other hand, just rolled his eyes and watched the passing scenery outside. He sometimes felt guilty for doing this to his father but he figured it was the best thing for him. Ever since an incident involving a flare gun about one year ago, Brian had been on a downward spiral into his own pit of self hate and oblivion. The 'F' he had received in his junior level shop class had knocked him right out of the Honor's List and ever since then he has stuck to the basics: trig, calculus, chemistry, biology, physics, English, and computers. Never again did he - or would he - take another art, gym, shop, music, French, or anything he would consider to be an easy way to maintain a grade point average. He was a lowly science dork and he knew it. That didn't mean Brian liked it.
He had gotten his first detention exactly three days following the flare gun incident. He had met a few people in there that - he was certain - helped him to overcome his uptight demeanor. They had gone through the whole day together coming out of their shells and being their true selves; telling each other secrets, breaking rules, he even cried...and danced. He had left that afternoon feeling like a new person; he was convinced that he had made some friends, his thoughts of suicide were over, and that all of his problems surrounding his home and school life would begin to make more sense.
Of course detention was detention and Monday was a whole other matter.
He remembered distinctly thinking Monday afternoon that it was just the first day and progress was still to be made. Days and nights passed, and weeks and weekends, finally the months went by and the humiliations and bullying...stereotypes and clichés...they all continued. Closed minded ignorance surrounded him everywhere he went. Even the weird girl with no friends wouldn't hang out with him.
Brian felt lower than ever.
He never remained friends with any of them but there was one person out of the group he occasionally met up with - only to discuss business of course.
John Bender was the person who first introduced him to the wonderful world of weed. Brian realized that, even though marijuana was plant, it was still an illegal narcotic like acid or cocaine. He had been a little nervous and scared at first but as soon as that smoke filled his lungs a fun and happy side of him came out. He felt stress free and no one in the world could touch him while he was on his smoking clouds of internal heaven.
So he kept doing it. If no one else was gonna care, why should he?
The first time he had visited Bender behind the school in the parking lot he was on the receiving end of laughter. As soon as he pulled out the three twenties the laughing had ceased.
From that day on Brian went back and forth to visit John about once a week. Bender asked him no questions, and Brian asked none himself. Not once did the topic of the detention or the Breakfast Club ever pass between the two of them; they just always pretended they never knew of each other before. Bender for reasons unknown (although Brian could guess), and Brian for fear of getting his ass shoved in a locker.
The trips to the back of the school had continued all the way up until about Thursday. Twice a year the school - with the help of the Shermer Police Department - brought in the canine unit for routine drug inspections. Brian really didn't have much knowledge of the workings of the police, but apparently the rest of the school's criminals did.
The whole school was swept clear except one locker. That locker was definitely bad luck.
Brian glanced at his father one more time as they pulled up to the front steps of Shermer High School. His father returned the gesture with a grave nod of the head. "See you later Bry...let's not do this again, okay?"
Brian said nothing as he stepped outside the car. The cold wind blew in his hair as he stared at Shermer High School long and hard. "Pick me up at four."
And with that Brian marched up the steps of the school in silence. He was the first one to reach the library.
... ... ...
Richard Vernon stared intently at the piece of paper in his hands. It wasn't very often now a days that he had to supervise detention. No, ever since he had been promoted last June to vice principal he rarely ever had to make a Saturday appearance.
It was late last night when he was watching a few infomercials that he received a phone call from Mr. Ryan stating that his mother had died and he had to drive down to Peoria early in the morning to visit with his father. Richard, being the one in charge when it came to student discipline, grudgingly obliged to take the position for him.
The morning had started off normal for him; he stopped off at the local coffee shop and got his usual black coffee and vanilla dipped donut, and scoped out some of the female joggers using the school's track. It had even gotten better for a few moments when he stopped down in the basement of the school to watch the morning exercises of the senior girl's swim team.
Yes, all was going good until he reached his desk at 6:45.
He had thrown his jacket carelessly over the back of his black, spinning desk chair and slumped down into the barely comfortable piece of furniture. Then he picked up the detention list and remembered why he was glad he didn't have to do supervision duties.
Andrew Clark, Claire Standish, Allison Reynolds, Brian Johnson, and John Bender.
He was stuck with those spoiled little pricks again. He had the exact same list of students sometime last year; although he had to supervise many detentions last year that one stood out to him the most.
Richard always hated doing the Saturday detentions; the pre-school or post-school detentions weren't so bad; but the Saturdays were reserved for the students who committed the more punishable crimes. Vernon wondered what ever happened to the good old days when you could just suspend a student and then not have to deal with them.
That particular Saturday was the same as all of the others; early, miserable, and irritating. However, this particular day gave him a much larger feel of authority...he decided to have some fun. He made fun of the brainiac, threatened Bender, threw around detentions like they were going out of style, and watched Miss Patrick, the swimming coach, do her afternoon skinny dipping session. When he grew tired of it all he grabbed himself a 12 pack and read through all of the confidential files with Carl, the janitor.
All was decent until he came into his office the following Monday morning.
...
"Vern, can I see you in my office for a few moments?"
Richard had nodded his head and followed Mr. Chambers into the office. Chambers was the principal at the time and had a no nonsense attitude. Vernon merely thought nothing of it and closed the door behind him.
"What is it, sir?"
"We have a little bit of a problem," he raked his fingers over his bald head and placed his glasses down on the desk. "Mrs. Smith called me up this morning."
Richard cocked an eyebrow. "The librarian?"
Chambers nodded his head gravely. "Yes. She said that there appears to be a great deal of damage done in there resulting from this past Saturday's detention."
Vernon's demeanor slumped and his palms got a bit sweaty. "Are you sure it wasn't from Friday...or even Thursday?"
Chambers sighed and folded his hands together. "No...she does a routine check at the start and end of every shift. It was done on Saturday. What I am trying to figure out is how any damage got done while you were supervising."
Vernon felt his heart beat speed up and his stomach turn. "Well sir, it could have happened while I took a bathroom break, and could have been insignificant enough for me to miss during the routine check at the end, sir."
Chambers' eyebrows rose angrily. "You see Richard, I cannot see how two broken doors, a large hole in the ceiling, food on the floor, shredded books, and even a broken clock cover in the gymnasium could be missed."
Vernon felt the heat rise to his cheeks and he swallowed hard. "To tell you the truth sir, I wasn't feeling very well all day on Saturday. I had stayed in my office with the library door open to supervise them and made quite a few bathroom trips. To be completely honest I was feeling so awful by the time four o'clock hit that I did not even do my routine check up afterwards. I'm so sorry."
Chambers nodded. "Well I'm sorry that you came down with something Richard. You are an exceptional teacher in this facility and I would hate to see you go down for something like this."
"I understand, sir..."
"But I have no choice but to give you a reprimand for this situation. You will be getting a write up put on your record for this."
Vernon's mouth dropped in distaste. "You're serious?"
Chambers nodded solemnly. "Yes I am. And once again I apologize for you being ill, but frankly Richard you should have called in sick...someone would have surely filled in for you."
"I understand, sir...I won't let it happen again."
Chambers nodded and stood from his seat. "I know you won't Richard, you are an excellent employee. I will try and see to it that this incident won't be taken into consideration in June when the Vice Principal position becomes open for applications."
Richard nodded and stood from his seat, shaking Mr. Chambers' hand before he left the room. He was angry at himself for letting this kind of thing happen, but he was even angrier at the immature brats who committed these crimes.
...
Vernon looked up from the paper in his hands and stared at his clock: 6:55. He had five more minutes before he had to face those little punks once more.
This time he wasn't going to let that happen again.
... ... ...
"Where the fuck are my boots?"
James Bender looked up from the breakfast table and grinned lazily at his younger brother. "What the hell are you babbling about?"
John glared at his older brother and threw another cushion off the couch. "My fuckin' boots! I can't find them...where the fuck did you put them!"
James narrowed his eyes and took another drink of his whiskey flavored coffee. "How the fuck am I supposed to know? You think they were on my feet or somethin'?"
"Will both of you shut your ugly traps! I'm trying to sleep!" A loud roar came from the back bedroom of the small, one storey house. The boys looked at each other with disgust and continued on with their activities.
"Where the hell are you goin' so late anyways?" James asked.
"It ain't late you moron! It's morning!"
James looked over his shoulder to the clock on the stove. "Well...would you look at that..."
"Oh yeah, look at that," John drawled sarcastically, causing his brother to laugh. John and James were pretty close in age, about two years apart. Although they bantered and bickered back and forth they were pretty close friends. John looked up to his older brother in a lot of ways, whether he would say that out loud or not.
"So seriously, where are you going?"
John raised his boot up in the air triumphantly and threw the other one in front of the door. "Guess..."
"Will you two ass clowns shut your damn mouths before I have to come out there?"
James laughed. "Early morning date with Dick?"
John nodded and sat down on the floor to ties his boots. "You know I don't even know if I'm supposed to be there today or not. I just figured since I've had one...oh...every week for the last year or so that I had one today too.
James shook his head and laughed. "You know, you keep that shit up and you are gonna end up breaking my record."
John smiled, impressed with himself. "Getting intimidated are we?"
James stood up and threw John's long grey trench coat at him. "You better watch your mouth you little punk."
John smirked and threw the coat over his shoulders. "Don't worry...I won't tell anyone." He dodged his brother's on coming arm and stumbled out the door, almost crashing over a skid of ice down the drive way. For a mid-February morning John thought it was pretty nice out. There was a 4 inch blanket of snow covering the Shermer lawns, with giant waves of snow banks sitting at the side of the road from a recent trip through the streets by a snow plow. For not having very many warm clothes, strangely, John liked the winter. He could push kids in the snow, shove snows down girls' shirts, and 'accidentally' bump into old ladies when he was walking down the icy sidewalks. Winter was so much fun.
He looked up at the sky and noticed that the clouds were looking heavy and grey. If his instincts would serve him correctly, they'd definitely be getting a snow day on Monday.
He thought back to his destination and smirked; every Saturday was the same damn ritual for him. Wake up cranky, try and find something he lost the night before, walk through the fields and sit in a fucking library all day taunting Dick. If he hadn't done the same routine a hundred times before he would been appalled by the fact.
He hopped the four foot fence leading into the school yard and made his way across the Shermer High football field. He wrapped his trench coat protectively around his chest as the open winds of the field slapped at his body. There wasn't much surrounding the field besides a few rows of bleachers, so there really wasn't much to protect him from the nasty wind chill factor.
Before he knew it he'd have icicles hanging from his face.
He looked up against the blowing dust, trying to make out the building one hundred feet away. He wondered momentarily what would happen today. Ever since a year ago, or so, he would subconsciously ask himself the same question every time he strolled up. It was strange day for him for sure; he had told a bunch of dorks about his personal life and then made out with the prom queen in Dick's closet. Even though the Breakfast Club was a distant memory in his mind he still had the occasional thoughts about it in his head.
Probably because no other detentions he had sat in since then have been quite as fun.
He stepped up the front steps to the high school and whipped the door open roughly. He knew that the supervisor for the day would hear him coming down the halls and the smirk would drip right off of their face. John missed the good old days when Vernon was there all the time. The guy couldn't stand Bender let alone be civil to him. And although Bender despised Vernon just as much, he couldn't help but smile thinking about the detentions they had together. It was pure hell in making...
He threw open the library doors and wasn't even four steps in when he stopped dead in his tracks. There before him was a sight he was definitely not expecting to see. Four familiar faces sitting in four fairly familiar seats with frowns and looks of horror on their faces. When Dick came in behind him and scowled...well that topped it all off.
He looked around the room and put his hands on his hips dumbly. "Does else anyone feel an odd sense of de-ja-vu here?"
TBC
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