These Children That You Spit On

Fallon in Detention (Analyzing the Fellow Inmates)

(A/N: A lot of BC fanfics rehash the movie through everyone's perspective. Instead, I'm just going to show Fallon saw things for now since most parts of the movie actually showed how the main characters felt already. I hope you all enjoy! Vote, comment, promote!!!!!!!)

Fallon POV

March 24, 1984. A day that will forever live in infamy. My first detention. In theory, I should have charged with a week of in-school detention or five Saturdays. But since in-school detention was Audrey's sentence and my mother "persuaded" (i.e. threw around some of the money we still have; my college chances be damned) Rooney to lighten my sentence, I was only getting one day. I woke up at about seven o' clock, showered, threw on a belted white dress and matching lace stockings, and headed toward school. I ate an untoasted Pop Tart as I walked toward Shermer. It was ironic that my punishment was supposed to be an extra day there with a few others, as opposed the student body; after all, Shermer High was prison for me when I was surrounded by the masses. I was sure that maybe only Cousin John would be there. I hadn't heard about anyone else having Saturday detention. Unfortunately, I was in for an unpleasant surprise. I walked into the library alone, apparently the last one there. Even Bender had managed to drive here. My mother refused me the car, afraid people would notice it wasn't the Bentley that got repossessed last month. I looked around the room, seeing who would be keeping me company other than Bender.

First things first, Brian Johnson was here. Brian Johnson who I had once crushed on. Brian who knew about the rumors and probably saw them as fact. I could barely even make eye contact with him as I marched toward a seat, any seat.

I scanned over my other options. Andy Clark. Nope. I knew how he thought of me. When I first started here, he was one of the sophomores bragging about how he had "bagged" me.

Allison Reynolds may have been a viable choice. She never had anything to do with me, as far as I could tell. I only ever heard stuff about her, like that she crashed a wrestling practice with a dance routine and ate sandwiches with cereal in them at lunch. I wasn't sure if I should believe the rumors or not; after all, nothing said in the halls about me was definitively true. At the same time, I believed in the possibility, as I had seen her laughing to herself in the halls and making strange noises whenever anyone bumped into her. She might not have been legendarily insane, but there was something weird about Allison. I wonder if she had been hurt like I had, and acting out was her only way of dealing.

And finally, there was Claire Standish. I used to be her friend. We sat together at lunch everyday in junior high. We flipped through back issues of Tiger Beat in social studies, gossiping about Scott Baio and longing to look like Farrah Fawcett or Tatum O'Neal. We slept over each other's houses. Shared a bed. Whispered secrets about our hopes and fears and dreams late into the night. Read each other's diaries (I used to write above all my entries, For Claire's eyes only). We even practiced kissing together once in sixth grade (our little secret, of course). Of all the claims and rumors that went around school, the only person I was ever intimate with was Claire. But as soon as the rumors spread, she turned her back on me. I still remember the way she ditched me like yesterday.

September 1981

First Day of High School

I hadn't heard the news yet.  After a brief tryst with Adam Baker, I came back to school in hopes of seeing all my friends again. Adam had summarily dumped me on Labor Day, with no warning. I needed the support of my girlfriends, especially Claire. I hadn't seen her all summer after she went to camp. It was our first summer apart, and I had so much to tell her. Plus, she probably had all sorts of news for me. Maybe she had a summer boyfriend too. Maybe she even went to second base. I heard tons of people did that at summer camp, and since I hadn't with Adam, I wanted to know all the details. As I entered the halls, I saw a familiar flash of red hair.

"Claire," I yelled excitedly.

She turned and raced toward me, embracing me with a huge hug. "Fallon," she shrieked and jumped up and down, as freshman girls do.

"I have so much to tell you," I said.

"Duh, like, ditto," she replied.

We both laughed as Angela strode over.  Angela and I hadn't met up much over the summer, other than a few double dates and stuff. And then, by August, I had barely seen her for some reason. "Claire," she said stiffly. "Can we talk?"

She shot me a look, and added, "Alone."

We both shrugged and Claire went off with Angela to the ladies'. I didn't know that that moment would our last. That Claire would never hug me or laugh with me or even speak to me alone again. That was our second to last meeting, but I would rather pretend it was our last. Our real last meeting was much more painful.

I stared at her that day in detention, waiting for some kind of recognition. For anything. Instead, her eyes fell to the desk in front of her. I found another empty table and set up shop there. It was better to avoid everyone than to be hurt again.