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Shadows of the Past	By : gallygaskins Category: 1 through F > Breakfast Club Views: 2280 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Breakfast Club and I do not earn any money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
Monday, 26th March 1984
The thrashing guitars of Metallica roused John from a restful sleep, the first he'd had in a long time. It may have been largely due to the fact that when he'd arrived home his father was unconscious from the effects of alcohol, snoring loudly from his position on the living room couch and John instinctively knew that he'd still be there in the morning when John left for school. God only knew where his mother had disappeared to; nursing a scotch and downing several Tylenol, he'd have hazarded a guess.
But he liked to think it was for another reason, Claire's kiss. Or more precisely, several kisses. They certainly hadn't harmed any and they'd given him plenty of memories to mull over as he'd relaxed into his bedding and drifted off to sleep. He'd even seen her in his dreams and as he took his time getting ready he couldn't help but notice himself in the bathroom mirror grinning like an idiot.
Even as he walked to school, the tails of his undone overcoat flapping around his legs, he realised that he was wearing a permanent smirk, thinking back to their first kiss, to her giving him the earring that still resided in his left earlobe, to their date the previous night. Pizza. Who didn't love pizza?
She'd even been pristine eating the two slices he'd offered onto her plate. Pizza didn't warrant cutlery, but she'd picked up her silverware and cut small chunks from the pie, chewing slowly and laboriously until each piece was masticated enough to swallow. He'd watched on amusedly, folding each piece in half and biting into it, chewing hurriedly and swallowing even more quickly; an after effect of eating with his parents he supposed, get in there first or nothing would be left. They talked about nothing in particular, both avoiding the unlit ceramic elephant in the room, before she'd drawn her chair carefully towards him and leant across to wipe a smudge of pasta sauce from the corner of his mouth. Her touch sent him into overdrive, catching her hand easily in his own and kissing the back of it, watching her intently as her eyes lowered momentarily away from him, returning quickly once the initial embarrassment had passed. Her eyes had smouldered from then on, he remembered, a fire had been set alight deep inside of her that he never wanted to extinguish, noticing now the flames of raw desire and passion that licked fervently behind them.
As they walked up towards the bus stop, Claire's dad having given them a lift into town at the start of their date, his arm instinctively found her waist and drew her closer to him. She felt cold despite the woollen coat she'd opted to wear that night, so John had encouraged her to seek solace underneath his own, feeling her arm snake around his back and her hand secure itself over his hip. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, holding her as close to him as she could possibly get as they huddled together at the stop. "I wish this night never had to end," she whispered.
John pulled away slightly, his fingers under her chin, lifting her face to look up towards him. "Why?" He quizzed.
"Because tomorrow I have to become someone I don't much like anymore." She sighed, searching his eyes with her own, a grim expression on her face.
He nodded, understanding her meaning, but wanting to make her understand that things could be different if she'd just trust herself and the rest of The Breakfast Club. "Claire, it doesn't have to be that way?"
"You know what I'm going to have to face, I'm going to get it worse than the rest of you put together."
"Poor baby," he smirked, delicately brushing back her hair. "Look, do what you have to in the am but come and find me in the parking lot at lunch, that way you only have to deal with them once tomorrow."
"Ok," she agreed.
"I'll get the others rounded up too, maybe we can work something out so that this doesn't affect your social status too much."
"Thank you," she smiled, "how did I get to be so lucky to find you?"
"Hey, princess," he joked, "if I hadn't pulled that alarm on Friday then you'd probably be making out with Big Bri by now or maybe locking lips with Sporto at Stubbie's."
"Oh, God, do you want me to puke?"
"I haven't even got close enough to," he dropped his head so that his mouth was close to her ear, "make any inappropriate moves on you yet."
She hit him on his arm playfully, faked disgust washing her features momentarily, before she bit down on her bottom lip and lowered her eyes, "it's not that I don't …," she caught his eyes when she looked up again, his breath catching in his throat, "want you to."
"But?" he questioned.
Shaking her head she continued, "no buts, John," she leant closer, "I want you to."
"Cherry?" He warned.
"I'm not saying tonight or anything," she started, "I just want you to know, no-one has ever made me feel the way that you do. We spent a lot of time arguing on Saturday and there were times when you really upset me, but I'm glad you did. It made me realise just what I'm missing out on. I don't want to end up like my parents, on the verge of divorce and yet using me to get back at each other. That's not fair on anyone. And I certainly don't want to end up in a loveless marriage to a man of social standing that either my parents or my friends pick out for me because he'd be able to keep me in a lifestyle I've become accustomed to." She sighed, "I don't want my heart to die, John and I think you're the only one that can help me make sure that doesn't happen."
"Sweets, I can't do anything."
"Yes, you can, you have to." She said, as she climbed onto the bus and paid their fares. She moved down the bus and selected a seat far away from everyone else. As soon as John had sat next to her, she took hold of his hand in her own and held onto it in her lap. His eyes held hers as she attempted to find the right word to start with again." "I … you …" She struggled. "Don't you see, you're my saviour? The criminal and the spoilt, deluded, conceited, bitch of a rich-brat princess."
Her eyes were shining brightly with unshed tears, the thumb of his free hand wiping away at the stray that had slipped over her delicate cheek. "Claire, don't do that?"
"What?"
"Don't call yourself names like that. And don't put me up on any fucking pedestal." He wasn't angry, just concerned.
"But you are, John. You meant every word you said to me on Saturday, and every last one of them hit home. I hate who I am."
"I don't." He said, "I want you to know that I don't hate who you are. Yes, you may have everything when I have nothing, but shit, Claire, that's just life. I know I'm an asshole and I play up to get attention, but I guess that's because of the shit I get from home. At least Allison is ignored." He looked away.
He could hear Claire sniffing back her tears. "Honey, I couldn't ignore you if I tried," she smiled, as he turned back to face her.
He couldn't take it any longer, lifting her closer to him and plundering her mouth with his own. Her hands were soon at the nape of his neck, her fingers reaching up into his hair, as his mouth kissed over her chin and down to her neck just under her ear. "You're my saviour too," he growled, "one guy, one girl, right?"
"What about it?" She managed.
"I always thought it was overrated." He grinned against her collarbone, "but then I met Little Miss Virtuous here and suddenly I'm thinking hearts, flowers and Hallmark movies. You're seriously dampening my cred."
"Oh, I'm sorry." She said sarcastically.
Another smirk, "don't be. Honestly, I couldn't give a shit." He took her face in his hands, "if my friends can't accept you then I can't accept them."
"Even if I try to get to know them and lower myself to speak to them?" She teased.
"You have a smart mouth when it suits you," he smiled, his eyes twinkling, "You challenge me, I like that." He pulled her up from the seat as the bus pulled in at her stop, "c'mon Queenie. Gotta get you home before midnight."
Skipping down the steps of the bus, he scooped her up into his arms before she had chance to alight the bus, giggling at his antics. "Can't let you get your feet wet on this dewy grass, princess," dropping her down onto the sidewalk as soon as he'd reached it. "Sure you're not punching above your weight, my back's killing me?"
She swatted his arm again, scowling impishly, "you'd better not say I'm starting to reach maximum density."
"That was callous and thoughtless of me the other day. Claire definitely isn't a fat girl's name," he drew her closer to him, "especially when it's my Claire."
"My Claire?"
"You are, aren't you?" Suddenly he began to panic, an insecurity niggling inside his head. Had he really read it all completely wrong? He lowered his head, his eyes would only betray him if she could read them.
"Hey, John?" She asked quietly, "after everything I've said, do you really think I wouldn't be?"
"I don't know."
"Look at me? Please?" He did so, he couldn't deny her anything. "What I said, earlier on, about no-one making me feel the way that you do? I wasn't just saying it, I meant it. I just suppose that I'm hoping that you're not just considering me?"
"Are you crazy?" John exclaimed. "Jeez, princess, and I thought I was the one who was emotionally retarded because of my home life. I said, one guy, one girl, didn't I?"
"You said a lot of things."
"Well, I mean that! Me and you, that's it!" He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and gave it to her. "Take a look, go on."
She took it, turning the well-worn, age-darkened, stitched leather accessory in her hands. She looked up at him, he nodded for her to go on before she turned her attention back to it and opened it up. Gone were the other girl's pictures in the credit card holders, only one now resided there, her yearbook photo from the previous year, expertly cut out and carefully inserted into the top holder. "Oh. You're considering only me."
He nodded, his hand cupping her cheek, his lips lightly caressing hers. "Only you." He kissed her again with a little more force. "My Claire." They stood just holding one another for the longest time, his forehead pressed gently against hers. "I should walk you back."
"And we should get some pictures for your wallet."
"Plenty of time for that," he confided, grabbing hold of her hand and placing them in his coat pocket. "All the time in the world." He watched her smile.
They walked on in companionable silence only stopping once they'd rounded the corner and were several yards from her house. "Do you wanna come in for a coffee?"
"I'd better not, princess. Don't want your mother freaking out that you've bought a boy home." He smiled.
"She's in the Caribbean, remember?"
"Tease," he declared, pulling her to him.
"Are you hot?"
"For you?" He started shaking his head, "yes!" She rolled her eyes and took to her second favourite occupation where he was concerned, hitting him on his arm. He sniggered at her attempt, grabbing her waist and closing the gap between them. "Which is your room?"
"The one above the porch."
"And where does daddy sleep?"
"Back of the house, when he's here."
Oh, that sounded like trouble. "You know you can always talk to me."
She smiled, "I know." She nodded. "And you can always stay here if things get rough. There are plenty of guest rooms."
"I don't doubt that." He murmured, "is your room off limits then?"
"Just until I'm ready." She whispered, "is that ok?"
"Yeah, I'm not gonna pressure you, Claire. Besides, I'm liking getting to know you better, I want to do more of that."
"Me too." She nodded, grabbing his collar and pulling him down to meet her, "making out is fun too."
"Yeah," his hands slid from her waist down over her hips to rest over the peach of her backside. "But," he slipped one hand up under her blouse to cover a lace encased breast and make his point, "sometimes, it's best to do it with a bit of privacy."
Breaking their kiss she looked down at the tips of his fingers peaking out at the neckline of her blouse. "Fine," she said, as he began to roll his palm over the puckering bud of her breast, "I'm sure we can think of something."
"Good," he replied, removing his hand. He could tease too. "Goodnight, Claire," he pulled her in for one last kiss, his hands in her hair.
Breathlessly she responded, "goodnight, John. See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, later, Cherry." He said as he wandered off back down the way he had come. He looked around once, seeing her stood in the doorway of her house. He waved, as did she, before closing the door behind her and letting him walk on home.
"Bender, my man. Wait up," his friend Danny shouted before running the length of a football pitch to catch up with him and bring him out of his daydream. "What's been happening dude? We were s'posed to meet up yesterday."
"I had something better to do." John walked on.
"Like what?" Danny asked.
"Nothing for you to concern yourself with." Danny was John's oldest friend, they'd known each other for years, come up through school together and if John ever felt too threatened to go home, he'd lay low at Danny's. It was also his bolt hole when things got tough. But could he tell him about Claire? Could he trust him to keep his mouth shut until the cat was let out of the bag at school? He stopped walking, "look I'm sorry, man, but I met some people in detention on Saturday."
"You stood me up for some wasteoids?"
"No, listen to me." He grabbed his friends shoulder and pulled him over to the side of the road. "I met this girl."
"Yeah? Congratulations. Were you slipping it to her last night?"
"Hey, Danny. Some respect, man."
"Sorry." Danny apologized incredulously, "who is it? Do I know her?"
"In a manner of speaking."
"Bender, stop messing with me. Who is she?"
"Claire Standish."
"The fucking prom queen?" Danny shouted out.
John glared at his friend, looking around him to see if anyone had caught that part of their conversation. "Shut the fuck up, will you Danny?"
"But you hate her?"
John shook his head. "Not her, she's different. It's an act, she hates herself for being such a bitch and appearing all self-righteous. But the last two days have been an eye-opener. She's smart, feisty, a real ball breaker, and she stimulates me. Best of all, she accepts me, for who I am, Danny, she's seen me at my worst and she still wants to spend time with me, getting to know me. I can't ask for more than that."
"For real?"
"For real. I'm so fucking hot for her, I swear I'm gonna have to punch myself to stop myself from grinning all of the time. I look like loves young fucking dream."
"Wow, Claire Standish. I mean she looks good and I wouldn't throw her out of bed but what the hell does she see in you?"
"I don't know?" John sighed, "but I just know that this isn't some 'preppy girls crush on a bad boy' thing."
"How?"
John lifted up his hair away from his ear, "she gave me this."
"That's not the only reason, right?"
"No, Danny, it's not. But if you think I'm gonna tell you everything about her and me, then you can think again. I just need to know you're cool with it and won't blab this about."
"What is there to blab about, you've told me nothing." John glared at him again, "I won't say a word, to anyone. Who the fuck is gonna believe you're seeing princess Claire, anyway?"
"Well, no-one. Yet. But one day, maybe."
Danny hauled his rucksack back over his shoulder, "I hope you know what you're doing, man, but if she really is for you, then good luck. And don't forget who your friends are."
"Thanks Danny, and I won't. I still may need to hang out at yours and lick my wounds if dear ole dad gets a little handsey from time to time."
Danny patted John's back, "no problem, Bender. Just … look out for yourself."
John nodded, walking up the front steps and taking the corridor to his left in order to make his way to his locker. It meant passing Claire and her friends so he took it slowly, tuning into their conversation as he quietly walked by. "Claire, you missed one hell of a party at Stubbie's. Where were you anyway?"
He watched her shrug her shoulders, stopping opposite them so that he could take in a little more of what was being said. She had her back to him so he knew that this would be the perfect chance to see whether or not she had changed, just as he'd convinced his friend she had earlier on. "I was beat after detention, I didn't feel too good at all, so I just got home and chilled."
"Oh ok, you felt better in the morning though?"
"Yeah, much better thanks Jenna."
"That makes sense."
"Sorry?" She faltered.
"That makes sense, why I saw you then, Sunday morning, walking with your dog and some boy."
Shit. He could only imagine what was going on inside her head. "Yeah, it was one of the guys from detention on Saturday. We'd met up whilst I was walking Benjy and he was on his way home."
The girlfriend nodded, "and then you just … kissed him?"
"He'd had some problems at home that he'd been telling me about and I comforted him a bit."
"On the mouth?" All of her friends gasped at this little tidbit.
"Well, I … er … um … he's a good friend."
"He must be." He smiled to himself at that remark. If only he could see her face, he felt sure that her eyes would be welling up at just the thought of having to tell her friends so soon into the game about her dating John and the world that she was used to falling down around her ears.
"Jenna, I …"
"Who was it Jenna?" One of the other girls questioned.
"Someone she obviously couldn't keep her eyes off, the amount of times she kept stopping to look back at him. All hot and heavy for him. Are you really considering losing it to that loser?" Jenna pounced, her stance hostile, her smile pure evil; John stiffened at her hate filled words but did nothing until he felt he needed to. "Do you want to tell them or shall I?"
Claire shook her head, focusing on something or someone over her shoulder. John looked up the corridor, there was Sporto and Basketcase making out. He looked back at her, she seemed to have taken the sight of them as some sort of green light because she got herself back together and looked back at her friends in turn. "John Bender."
"The criminal?" One lemming asked dubiously.
The tension in Claire's body was made even more aware as soon as she spoke, "he's not a criminal."
"But he's a burner." Another lemming shot back.
"Maybe, but that doesn't make him a bad person."
"No, you're right," said Jenna sweetly, "but he's got nothing."
"So!"
"So, how are you going to keep shopping at Ralph Lauren if his paycheck won't even cover the rent?"
"Shut up."
"Or give you nice things on your birthday because he's drunk all your savings.
"Shut up, Jenna." Claire warned again.
"Or pay for diapers for your mongrels, or hits on you when he no longer cares for you any longer."
"Shut the fuck up," Claire insisted, pushing Jenna into the lockers and watching her slide down to the floor, the lemmings all crowding around their leader as they tried to get her back on her feet and looking none the worse for wear.
"You fucking bitch, you tore my new blouse." John took a step forward, he didn't like where this was going.
"Jenna, your parents are rich enough to get you a new one so cut the crap." Claire bristled, her hands scrunched up into fists. "And don't ever talk about John like that again, otherwise it will be more than a little hole next time."
"You're committing social suicide." Jenna fought on.
Claire shook her head, "do you think I care, Jenna? I've been following you around for the last four years, being a conceited bitch, laughing along with you, making other people's lives hell just because I was rich and I was seriously worried about how you'd react if you ever found out about John and me. Why? So I can enjoy the same lifestyle that my parents have. I want to be in love when I get married, do you get that? I want to be in love and I want to be loved in return. Do you honestly think I'll get that from some Ivy League Yuppie, who thinks more about making money and keeping me in designer clothing and upgrading my BMW every year? No, I won't. My parents barely tolerate one another, I don't want to live like that and maybe, just maybe, this is my chance to get out of that loop and have something that I want, not what they want, or you want for me." She looked around herself, finally noticing John stood behind her, his sunglasses positioned on top of his head, a lazy smile upon his lips just for her. She walked up to him, grabbed his hand and pulled him forward with her to stand back in front of Jenna and her cronies. His hands found their way to her hips and she slid her hands on top of his. "After spending nine hours with John and my other new friends on Saturday, I realised that there was more to life than being the person I was, but I was torn. Torn between you and what you expect of me and the others and torn between them and what they would never expect of me. Because do you know what I found out, huh, do you?" She watched Jenna shake her head slowly, "that none of this matters. Someday soon, we'll all be gone from here, we'll all be on another path. Some of us will be lucky, because we'll get what we want, but most of us won't because none of us, not one person here knows what their future holds, and being prom king or queen or even a self-important, arrogant ass isn't going to get you what you want. So, please, do us all a favour and grow up."
Watching Claire look around herself quickly as she heard the cheering and clapping start, noticing Andy, Allison and Brian all to her left, John leant forward and whispered to her, "Well done, princess. Do you feel good?"
She turned in his arms, nodding as he pulled her closer and kissed her, noticing Danny cheering along with everyone else, then watching them all fade away as the bell sounded for first period. "It feels good being bad." She smiled coyly.
"Tell me about it, I just hope that's the first in a long line of being bad."
Claire shook her head, "nope," she dropped her voice, "I smoked a joint with you on Saturday and asked Brian to write our paper."
"Oh yeah," he smirked, "I must be really rubbing off on you."
"First in a long line?" She flirted.
An eyebrow shot up, "careful Cherry, you might not make it to first period if you carry on like that."
She pouted, "ok, maybe later?"
"Maybe," he countered, as he kissed her one last time and they parted until lunchtime. As he passed Vernon he signalled to him, the smile on his lips ever present as Vernon gave him nothing but a look of confusion, his hands on his hips, wondering what the hell he had just seen. The princess and the criminal making out in the hallway, who'd have thought.
For every class that went by that morning, there was a pat on the back, hushed voices and rumours running amuck, but he didn't care, Claire had more than proved herself on that Monday morning. He could tell that she had shocked herself with her words but they had been powerful and keenly felt by most of the kids in school, rushing to cheer her on and congratulate her for a job well done. And for someone who had ditched her friends so vehemently that morning, she was surprisingly cheerful at lunch. "There's already some really crass remarks on the stall doors in the ladies room," she let slip as she sat with him under the bleachers, leaning back against him, an arm folded around her as he used his other hand to take a drag form his cigarette. "But I don't care, all that matters is you and me."
"Yeah princess," he held her tighter, "just you and me."
- 5
- 6
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Shadows of the Past