Purpose: to pass my 6½ creative writing class.

Implied Pairings: ClaireBender, AndyAllison

Rating: T/PG-13 due to language and content

Disclaimer: i wish i could own the breakfast club. but i'm not that cool. i don't own atreyu lyrics either. so don't sue please.

Notes: i would like to improve my writing so any comment is appreciated, i guess. but don't say anything that i don't know already. that bugs me. i already know that this not the best and i need to, like, repeat english. eeah. so, no? thanks to anyone who's bored enough to read this. :)

··Should Have Turned··

by thEUltraviolet

The Brain.

"Find a way to study." That has been the alma mater of his life. The thing that keeps him going and at the same time, the thing that drives him out of his mind was the pride of the Johnson's house. Was he supposed to pick a book from the library and blindly read the text or watch and envy these students around him at Saturday detention? Brian would've – and should've – picked out a random textbook and skim through but it was them. They drew every bit of his attention. It wasn't until the guy with the steel-plated boots who always smells like smoke and has three piercings in each ear said, "You're a genius because you can't make a lamp," that he realized he wasn't fooling anyone; nothing went past them. It was then that he realized what that guy was saying: "Find a way to live."

The Athlete.

The jocks were supposedly not to be messed with. If someone happened to brush past them on the shoulder in the hallway, they would have to deal with it themselves right there on the spot. Nothing to say. What goes with that? Victory? Eternal glory for the school? Or was it eternal glory for himself? This was all that was running through his head while that asshole was annoying the hell out of him. He didn't put down his façade, whatever it was. Then he saw her. He didn't know how or why he was drawn but for the most part, he didn't care. The way Andy figure it, some things are better left unsolved or unquestioned. That's what she was, though: questionable, and it drove him insane that he didn't know everything about her. He would remember the day that this quiet and fragile girl barely touched him and he felt like he had so much to tell her.

The Basket Case.

Give her a goldfish, some pinecones, a paperclip and she'll be happy. Holding something alive, something tough and something man-made got her excited so easily. Holding the elements that make up this sad and pitiful earth made her feel powerful and made her feel she had nothing to fear. The last thing she certainly didn't expect was for that typical jock to just acknowledge her. She was most certain that they ignored "her type." Suddenly she didn't feel so powerful and fearless. Allison felt, well, human. The third time she was sure he was looking at her made herself believe that she was someone in this world – someone in his world. But when he was staring at her makeover, she felt so lucky. It scared her; she never felt so special and so lucky as she did that day when he was admiring her every line and curve. This guy who was simple to others was everything to her: man-made, tough, and so alive. She was never happier.

The Princess.

She doesn't deny that having everything you want isn't so bad. What she did deny, however, was that not everything came and went so easily. She didn't understand. Just yesterday she didn't give a second thought to the people that was in this very library and now she cared so much that the boy in the boots and ripped clothes didn't think of her as a slut. At first she thought she was being overly emotional about the detention, but when he pointed out that she knows how shitty it is to not stand up for someone you know, she knew he was right about her. With her ex-boyfriends, it took them about 2 weeks to "understand" her morals and personal boundaries. With him, this guy she never dreamed of talking to and sharing the most personal things with, was able to understand everything about her in less than 2 hours. At that point, she didn't care about her jewelry package that was coming next week. He was all she ever wanted.

The Criminal.

Light up the cigar and smoke up the joint. That was his escape and the only thing he knew in this world. He wasn't gonna let a couple of dweebs get in the way of that. He believed that love was crap and that the candy factories made it up. It was fun at first to annoy the hell out of them – especially the jock – but that's what he wanted to make himself believe. As the detention progressed more, he couldn't deny it anymore. If he did, he was a liar and the last thing he can't stand is contradicting himself. Bender couldn't deny anymore how the sun made her hair glow a bright red and he certainly couldn't deny how perfectly imperfect she was after he broke her. He'll never admit it to anyone but after seeing her cry because of him, all he wanted to do was hug her, stroke her gleaming hair, and dry her tears away while working up the courage to say he didn't mean any of it. The courage to say that he loved her, however, was to come much later.