Categories > Movies > Breakfast Club > Next Time Around

Girl, Interrupted

by TWBasketCase 0 reviews

Monday 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?

Category: Breakfast Club - Rating: R - Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance - Warnings: [!] [V] - Published: 2007-01-07 - Updated: 2007-01-08 - 2943 words

Claire piled herself into her father's car with a goofy grin on her face. She had felt so good that she got a second chance to make things right. It had plagued her that nothing ever came of it, even though she had only herself to blame. Not only had she reconciled with the others, but she had definitely gotten her answer from one John Bender.

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and pressed her forehead against the glass of the car window. It was cold and airy, but it felt so nice and liberating. Things were finally looking up for the red headed princess, and she wasn't about to let anything dampen her mood.

But the gods had other plans for her that day.

"Claire!" Her father yelled.

She jumped at the sound of his voice and gave him a sweet smile. "Yes, daddy?"

"What on earth were you thinking?" His brow was furrowed and his cheeks were turning an unsightly shade of red.

She swallowed. He never talked to her this way. In fact, he was the one that almost never gave her any trouble; she usually had her way when it came to her father. She gave him one of her sweetest smiles. "What are you talking about?"

He looked back at the road and pursed his lips together tightly. "Don't play stupid with me, young lady! You know exactly what I am talking about!"

She didn't think he could be talking about her clothes, or her goofy grin. She had a sinking feeling that she did in fact know what he was referring to. "He's just a boy, daddy."

His eyes widened drastically. "That is not a boy! That is a hood...a-a bum! I saw that boy spray painting walls at our office parking lot just last week!"

Claire rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms in a huff. "He is a boy, daddy, and I happen to like him."

Her father shook his head angrily and made a sharp left turn down a busier Shermer street. He looked back to her and pointed a finger. "You will not like him! In fact, you will never even talk to that scum ever again!"

Claire felt the anger burning up in her chest. "Excuse me? You know dad, you are starting to sound exactly like that horrible Mr. Vernon who gave me detention! You remember him, right? That same old man that you called a 'fucking ignorant son of a bitch'," She narrowed her eyes at him coolly. "Well I think you are starting to sound exactly like an ignorant..."

"You stop right there, young lady!" His voice rose once more. Now they wore matching looks of anger. "You will watch your mouth and NOT use that tone of voice with me. I am your father and you will do what I say!"

She watched as the houses outside started to become bigger and more expensive looking. She frowned and blinked back the tears that were burning her eyes. "Yeah, it only figures that you start acting like a father now."

He slammed on the brakes and gave her a wide-eyed expression. Claire glared at him for stopping the car. "What did you just say to me?"

A tear trickled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. "You heard me."

His nostrils flared and she took that as a sign that he was genuinely angry with her. He put the car in park and turned so that he was facing her all of the way. "You take that back!"

She sat straighter. "NO!"

He clenched his fists in his lap. "I said you will take that back right now!"

Her breathing became more rapid and labored. She had never felt this angry towards her father in her entire life. Who was he to pass judgment on her and her friends? Who in the hell was he to say what she could or couldn't do, let alone who she could or couldn't see? This was her life, and she wasn't about to let him butt in all of a sudden. Why did he suddenly start caring now?

He raked a hand through his hair and turned back. "No wonder your mother always calls you a spoiled little brat. You have to be the most ungrateful little girl in the entire world!"

Her anger soared, and she actually threw her purse at him. "I am NOT a little girl, and YOU will stop treating me like one!" She screamed. "You will put up with it, or I will never talk to you ever again!"

He glared at her. "I treat you the way you act! And the way you are acting is completely immature and unreasonable!" He handed her purse back to her and took a deep breath, as if to calm down - somewhat. "I do not want you hanging around someone who could easily influence you to mess up your life."

She wiped another tear from her cheek and shook her head slowly. "No, you don't even give him a chance. And worst of all, you don't even give me a chance."

He wet his lips and dropped his gaze to the floor. "Honey, I know what's best for you."

Her chest burned with irritation once more and she grabbed the door handle. "No, obviously you don't." She unbuckled her seat belt and pushed the door open.

He sighed loudly. "Princess, it's freezing outside, just get back in the car."

She rolled her eyes and bent down so that they were face to face. "Dad, we live like eight houses down, I'm capable of physical movement. I will be fine."

He was about to protest, but she slammed the door on him. She knew that he wouldn't speed off, that he would follow her slowly home, but she was not about to get back in that car with him. Let him worry; let him be embarrassed by all the staring neighbors. She didn't care how he felt right now. She could not believe the audacity of him, and right now she was livid.

She pulled her coat tighter around her torso and wiped at her eyes once more. It only figured that once she got everything sorted out with her friends, trouble with her parents had to brew. They were always the cause for her stress and sadness at the worst times.

He rolled down the window and proceeded to tell her to get back into the car. She couldn't believe how silly he was being. She was only a few feet away from her house, and it sickened her how much he thought she was a fragile baby.

She stormed up the drive way and saw through her peripheral vision as her father sped up the drive way and into the garage. It was obvious he was racing her in, wanting to get into the house before her mother noticed anything was wrong. She quickened her pace in spite of him, and ran up the front steps and burst into the house. Her mother quickly came into the front foyer from the kitchen, obviously noticing her tears.

"Claire, honey, what's wrong?"

Claire wiped at her eyes and pulled her boots off. "Nothing, mom, I'm fine."

She cocked an eyebrow at her and folded her arms over her chest. The garage door slammed shut, but her mother seemed to ignore it. "What happened sweet heart? Did something happen in detention?"

Her father came bounding down the hallway and into the foyer to meet the rest of his family. Claire noticed that her mother seemed to look at them back and forth, then eventually put two and two together. "What did you do, Ron?"

He glared at her. "Margaret, I didn't do anything. Claire here is acting like a baby."

A triumphant grin seemed to spread across her mother's features. "Is that so?" She turned to Claire, a now more sympathetic look crossing her face. "What did he do to you, darling?"

Claire paused awkwardly and looked back and forth between her parents. She was quite aware that a war was about to erupt and - once again - she was the middle woman. "I-I just..."

Her mother approached her and wrapped her arms around her. "Its okay honey, you can talk to me."

"Oh knock it off Margaret!" Her father spat.

Claire pulled away from her mother. "No really, its okay mom, dad's just pestering me."

"About what, honey?"

Claire crossed her arms over her chest. "It's just about a boy, mother."

Her mother turned and glared at her father, and Claire took the opportunity to go up to her bedroom. As she ascended the stairs, she could hear their voices growing louder and louder. Her father was shouting horrible insults about John, while her mother - of course - was backing her and saying that boyfriends were fun and healthy for girls her age. She knew that her mother would take her side. Her father never got mad at her, and it didn't surprise Claire for one second that her mother jumped on the opportunity to get back on Claire's good side.

She closed the door behind her and slid down the wall and sat on the floor. It was never ending for her. Every step she took forward her parents were always there to shove her three steps back, and it broke her heart.

She pushed herself off of the floor and strode across her bedroom floor towards her window. She watched as the snow fluttered down from the sky and made its way to the ground. She guessed that Monday would be a snow day, and that she wouldn't have to go to school.

Once the voices downstairs quieted she sat on the window sill and just watched. She could still picture John slipping on the ice, and the snowflakes piling in his hair. She thought that is was cute as hell that something as simple as snow could make her bad boy look so soft and carefree.

She smiled to herself and wrapped a blanket over her shoulders. If Monday was a snow day, that was okay. Tuesday gave her plenty of time. Tracey would probably call her tonight, or Dina tomorrow, that routine would never change.

But Tuesday, Tuesday gave her the chance to solidify her friendships with the breakfast club.

Would Tracey or Dina care that much? Maybe just a little; she wasn't expecting it to be easy, but she would be damned if she didn't try.

Monday...or maybe Tuesday, was a new day; a new day for her to turn a new page.

... ... ...

The car ride home was silent. They did not talk. Her parents said nothing, and Erin - her sister - said nothing, only glared at the backs of their heads. Allison had gotten the impression that her dance recital hadn't gone well. Whenever she didn't perform to their standards, they let her feel down about it.

She suddenly realized that that was probably how Andy felt everyday. Maybe that was why Erin took her frustrations out on Allison, and why she was so moody - when Allison figured - she had nothing to be moody about. She frowned thoughtfully. It had seemed to hurt Andy more than he let on about the way his parents treated him; perhaps Erin felt the same way. She suddenly began to feel a little sympathetic for her all-star sister.

The car stopped when they reached her house and everyone began to pile out. Erin was about to go storming into the house, when her father's loud voice stopped them all.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Erin spun around. Allison - even though she knew she had nothing to do with the situation - stood frozen in her place, not wanting anyone to turn their anger on her. Erin glared hastily at their father. "I'm going in, what does it look like?"

Her father began walking towards the house. "You can bring your own bags in; I'm not doing it for you."

"But they're heavy!" Erin bellowed.

"Well maybe you should get into better shape. That way you can actually win your competitions, and carry your bags." Her parents turned their backs and proceeded into the house.

Allison turned to look at her sister. She just sat there staring dejectedly at the place that her parents once stood. She was sure that she had never seen her sister muster a look like that before. Allison swallowed and made her way towards the trunk of the car. She popped open the hood, and reached inside for a few clothing bags.

"What are you doing?" Erin asked.

Allison didn't look up at her. "Helping you."

She heard her younger sister scoff. "You don't need to feel sorry for me."

Allison shrugged and lifted her head from the trunk to regard her. "No, but I know how you feel."

Erin furrowed her eyebrows, and she too reached into the trunk for a bag. "How would you? You're the lucky one; they don't pay any attention to you."

Allison frowned. "Maybe sometimes I wish that they would."

Her sister said nothing and just nodded at her sadly. She closed the trunk and the two girls began to make their way towards the house. It was apparent to Allison - and hopefully to Erin as well - that even they had a little more in common than they had originally thought. Maybe Erin didn't want to be that star their parents claim to have created. Maybe she just wanted to be normal.

Once they got inside, they found their parents sitting at the supper table discussing something quietly amongst themselves. Allison dropped her bags to the floor and made her way towards them. Erin did not follow, instead proceeded to make her way up to her room. Allison stopped shortly before the table and cleared her throat.

Her parents turned their heads at the sound of her voice, their faces exhibiting surprise that it was in fact Allison that spoke, and not Erin. Her father watched her expectantly for a few moments before speaking. "Did you need something?"

Allison felt her nerves rise and her palms began to sweat. She swallowed down her anxiety and blurted, "You're too hard on her."

Her mom's eyebrows rose and she turned to regard her husband. Allison could feel the nerves spilling over once more. Her father just rubbed his face and gave her an unamused look. "Allison, I think you should just go to your room and mind your own business, okay?"

Allison was about to retort when she just closed her mouth and nodded. She knew that it was no use. She could argue anything with them and it would only fall on deaf ears. Her parents were just as persistent and stubborn as she was. They always thought that their ways were correct. That Erin would be a star, and that Allison was just a lost cause. They knew where their attention 'needed' to be and they were going to make sure it stayed there.

She said nothing else; she only sighed and began to make her way to her bedroom where she would be lonely and quiet once more.

For some reason she felt sad. She wasn't a silly girl; she knew that just because she had made a breakthrough with her friends that not everything would be fixed. Her life would still be the same, and even though she now had some acceptance, she would still always be the outcast.

She closed her bedroom door and made her way towards her dresser. From there, she proceeded to open the bottom drawer. Underneath that drawer was a sense of security and hope. She usually wasn't one to hold on to such inanimate objects, but that one always gave her a sense of longing and desire.

She pulled it out from under the drawer and brought it to her bed. She knew that even though things were going to stay the same with her parents, she wasn't alone anymore. Claire had told her that she had four friends in the breakfast club. Andy had told her that she didn't need to be alone anymore.

For five people who had nothing in common, they sure as hell could understand each other pretty well.

She sighed lightly and began to change out of her black clothes and into a pair of flannel pants and a grey tank top. She looked at the object lying on her bed and smiled. She pulled it on over head with a large grin and hugged herself. It brought a goofy smile to her face all over again.

She brought the sleeves to her face and breathed in the scent of them. In a way, it kind of smelled a bit musty from lying underneath her bottom dresser drawer for a year now. But in a way, it stilled smelled just a little bit like cologne and old spice deodorant. The exact same way it smelled when she had first acquired it from Andrew eleven months ago.

She slid into her bed and pulled the bright blue hood over her head. Even though it didn't technically belong to her, the blue Shermer Wolves sweater always brought her relief. Things may never change at home, but things were starting to look up. She could only hope that this Monday things would be a lot different than they were eleven months ago. She wasn't going to run away scared, or turn away from the one boy who promised her that she no longer had to be lonely.

She had the courage now.
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