(Breakfast club fanfiction) The Rebel.

Chapter Three: Caught Up.

I let out a small laugh as John starts to unscrew one of the screws from the door, pulling it out until the door slams shut. "That's really funny now fix it!" Andrew demands, his voice a bit frantic. John ignores him, quickly tossing the screw to me. "Hold onto that for me?" He ask. I simply nod, a wide grin plastered on my face as I place it in my jean pocket. You see, I pushed the boundaries, I push them till they almost explode, and when it looks like they're just going to pop, I back away and let them deflate, then start all over again. I guess that's how I'm a rebel. I do things that get me in trouble, but I'm still a good student, I still get good grades (all A's) and I still have some type of morals. I always show up to school, with the exception of faking sick once and a while, and I still have respect, a very little amount but it counts, towards teachers. That was the difference between me and John, I knew when to stop, how to push just enough so it didn't get me in a whole lotta trouble, he didn't. He knew no bounds, and he didn't stop until he was satisfied.

"You should really put that back in." Brian, I had finally remembered his name, adds, his tone casual. "What am I? A genius?" John says sarcastically. "No you're an asshole!" Andrew says, his voice irritated. "What a funny guy!" I add, my grin turning into a small smirk. "Fix the door!" Andrew demands. "Just shut up!" I say, sensing Vernon getting closer. "We know what we're doing." The last thing I saw was John winking at me before the door flew open, an angry looking Vernon storming into the room.

"Why is that door closed?" He demands, pointing his finger at no one in particular. "Why is that door closed!?" He repeats, standing in front of Andrew and Claire's table. John's the first one to speak. "How should we know we're not supposed to move, right?" He says, his voice nonchalant. "Why!?" Vernon repeats. "Maybe a screw fell out, sir." I say, my voice feigning innocence. "It just closed, sir." Andrew continues. "Who closed that door?" Vernon demands, turning to look at the girl in the back, Allison, I think her name was. "Who!?" The dark haired girl squeaks, slamming face first down on the table, her hood covering up the back of her head. "She doesn't talk, sir." John says, earning another small squeak from Allison. "Give me that screw." Vernon says, looking back over at John. "I don't have it." John replies honestly. "Do I gotta yank you outta that seat and shake it outta ya?" Vernon asked. "I don't think he has it, sir." I intervene, trying to take John out of the hot seat. "The world's an imperfect place, screws fall out all the time. Maybe it was rusted." Vernon narrows his eyes at me, rage seeming to come off of him in waves. "That's another Saturday for you, Miss. Croke." My eyes widen in surprise. "What?! Why!?" I blurt out. Vernon smirks. "That's another one, right there, I suggest you stay quiet unless you want another." I narrow my eyes at him before turning away, mumbling, "Whatever." Under my breath. "What was that?" Vernon ask, narrowing his eyes at me. "Nothing." I snap, glaring up at him. "That's another one, right there." He says, pointing at me. I growl lowly under my breath as he turns away from me, walking towards the door.

I glare into his back as he tries to keep the door open, even bringing Andrew up to help him put a rack of magazines in front of it until John says something about a fire hazard that causes him to move it back. "I expected a little more from a Varsity letterman." Vernon says as Andrew sits back down in his seat. "You're not fooling anybody, Bender." He says, redirecting his attention to John. "The next screw that falls out is gonna be you." John leans back in his chair, rolling his eyes. "Eat my shorts." He mumbles under his breath. "What was that!?" Vernon says, walking towards John. "Eat. My. Shorts." John says slowly, as if he was talking to a child. "You just bought yourself another Saturday, mister." Vernon says, pointing at John. "Oh, I'm crushed." John says sarcastically. "You just bought another one right there." Vernon says, his voice stern. "Well I'm free next Saturday, and the Saturday after that, but, beyond that, I'm gonna have to check my calendar!" John says mockingly, sarcasm seeming to drip from his words. "Good, because it's gonna be filled. We can keep going. You want another one? Say the word, just say the word, instead of going to prison you'll come here!" John crosses his arms and Vernon continues to rant. "Are you through?" He ask. "No!" John says stubbornly. "I'm doing society a favor!" Vernon claims. "So?!" John says, his face unreadable. "That's another one right there. I've got you for the rest of your natral born life if you don't watch your step! You want another one?" It's quiet for a brief moment before John answers. "Yes!" Vernon narrows his eyes. "You got it, you got another one right there! There's another one pal!"

By this time I know I can't stop myself from saying anything, and I know I'll regret it. "Stop!" I yell, looking at John in alarm. Vernon spins around to face me, glaring. "You've got another one now, too, Miss. Croke." I narrow my eyes at him. "Why thank you, Vernon. That means so much to me." Vernon jabs his finger in my direction. "That's one more for you, Croke! Want another?" I glare at him before looking away, my eyes trailing towards the table, my fingers drumming on the wood. "That's what I thought." Vernon says, turning back to John. "You through?" He asked snobily. "Not. Even. Close. Bud." John answers. "Good!" Vernon answers. "You got another one right there!" John glares at the older man. "You really think I give a shit?" Vernon simply stares at the boy. "That's another. You through?" John just looks at the man for a second, before answering. "How many is that?" He asked. "Well that's seven for Bender, including when he first came in and asked if Barry Manilow knew Mr. Vernon raided his closet, it's five for Brooke." Brian says. Vernon narrows his eyes. "Now it's eight and six, you stay out of it." He points to Brian and my eyes widen slightly. "Why!? I haven't said anything since!" Vernon glares at me. "Now you've got seven. Keep it up." Brian begins to speak again. "Escuse me sir it's-" Vernon cuts him off. "Shut it peewee!"
It's quiet in the room again, nobody daring to say a word. "You're mine." Vernon speaks, a smug grin on his face. "I've got you both for two months, two months. I got'cha." John narrows his eyes, leaning back in his chair even more. "What can I say, I'm thrilled." Vernon shakes his head. "I'm sure that's exactly what you want these people to think. You know, you both might want to spend a little more time trying to do something with yourself and a little less time trying to impress people. You might be better off." I shake my head, letting out a humorless laugh at Vernon. "It's wasn't me trying to impress anyone, Vernon. It's simply who I am. A stubborn, hardheaded, rebel." Vernon glares at me. "You've got another one." I shrugged, my parents were gonna kill me, but I had nothing else to loose.

"Alright enough!" Vernon yells out. "I'm going to be right outside those doors! The next time I have to come in here, I'm crackin' skulls!" I roll my eyes at that, my jaw clentched, my hands balled into fist at my sides. With that the man walks out of the room, turning to look at us one more time before the door slammed shut behind him. Without a second thought, I let my flood of anger, no, of rage, out, barley noticing the voice that said it with me.

"FUCK YOU!"