(Breakfast club fanfiction) The Rebel.

Chapter One: Interesting.

I walk up to Shermer High School on a Saturday morning, my hands stuffed into the pockets of my zipped up leather jacket.

Detention was nothing new to me, it wasn't like this was my first time. I just hated having to waste a perfectly good Saturday to attend it. With a sigh, I climb the steps and enter the building.

I travle through the building and into the library, making it just on time. I glanced around the room, and I was amused at what I saw.

There sat the two 'upper classmen.' The 'Princess' and the 'Jock' sat together at the very front table. Two tables back was a kid in a plaid shirt with his feet up on the table. Across from him was a girl dressed in all black and in front of her was a kid with blond hair and a green sweater. Beside the Princess and Jock, everyone was at a sprate table.

I ignored the eyes boring into my back as I went to go sit down at the table in front of the green sweatered kid. I put my bag on the back of my seat, the furthest chair to the left, and sat down. When I was comfortable I proped my black boots onto the table, leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms, zoning out as I listened to the music blasting through my headphones from the walkerman I had in my pocket.

Slowly, my eyes start to drift close.
............................
It seemed as if as soon as I closed my eyes, I was jolted awake by the sound of someone's hand slapping down on my table.

My dark brown eyes, so dark they're almost black, fly open to meet the fimiliar face of Vernon. I simply raise a black eyebrow at him as I remove my headphones, letting them rest around my neck. He glared at me and slowly moved away to the front of the room again, I saw that he had slammed down a piece of paper and a pencil down on my table.

"There will be no monkey business." Vernon starts. I must have missed something while I was asleep because it sounds like he was picking up where he left off. "My office is right across the hall." Vernon pointed his finger towards his office as he said this.
"Any questions?"
Nobody said anything.... Except for the dude in the plaid shirt.

" Yeah, I got a question. Does Barry Manilow know that you raid his wardrobe?" Plaid shirt guy asked.

I snickered quietly.

"I'll give you the answer to that question Mr. Bender, next Saturday." Vernon replied. "Don't mess with the bull young man, you'll get the horns."

I roll my eyes at that comment as Vernon walks out of the room.
"That man is a brownie hound," the guy said, pointing after Vernon. I grinned at the guy, my caramel skin seeming to glow and my pitch black hair pulled up into a poney tail. "Sure enough is." I reply. The boy grins back at me and suddenly I remember who he is.

John Bender.

Oh yeah, this detention was going to be interesting.

A.N.
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