We've all heard and devoured the classic trope involving the shenanigans of a jock, a princess, a nerd, and a criminal. Although who knows of the trouble capable of ensuing when The Breakfast Club isn't PG-13 anymore?
That's the 2007 freshman batch...
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Another Monday morning. The streets of NYC are buzzing as usual, and Manhattan is getting a head start with people lining up before cafes and breakfast lounges, waiting for a hot cup of coffee. Some are gearing up to please their cynical bosses, while others are preparing to drag their half asleep selves to schools and universities.
The dominoes are falling like they always do, except for the ones in Arlington. Everything has changed within these four campus walls– even the air feels different from its usual constrained nature.
Passing by these bright yellow lockers, I cannot help but take a stop at hers. Everyone is, but they were just filling up on their daily dose of drama and scandal. No one understands the gravity of the situation like we do, and it is somehow both– a blessing and a curse.
We hadn't even risen from the hollow depths of sleep, when a message chimed on our cellphones, making us aware of the bile in the back of our throat. Or at least that's how I felt when I found out about the apparent suicide note in Kylie's locker. Shocker, right?
One of the cleaning ladies found it when the loose door of the locker fell off its hinges. The Uni never paid attention to how we were supporting them with duct tapes, but I bet they do now. She submitted it to the administration office, from where it reached the former Mr. & Mrs. Meyers, and following the loud cries of Sarah, the news travelled all across the Manhattan borough.
The four of us had the liberty of being the first ones targeted, and why wouldn't it be like that? We are Kylie's closest friends and the high on drama climax of the letter. Whoever did it, justified our role in her life with utmost respect. You know, I have heard about assholes with integrity, but now I have had the chance of witnessing one as well.
Though, to say that it only affected us, would be an understatement. Our parents have been at war with Kylie's, defending their church going children. They had all the arguments prepared beforehand– the note could easily be fake– the note doesn't mention our names– there isn't a body to justify the note– the note is nothing but her parents' low life attempt to tarnish our families' names.
I wanted to laugh so badly at the last one, but I had to keep my giggles in control. Their thinking is a living proof of the haughtiness of their collective DNA, but here they are– displaying it and embarrassing themselves in front of their children, nonetheless.
Speaking about which, we found out that there is a mole within the four of us. If anyone, I had expected Mia to use this situation to get even with us. Except that, her big mouth was zipped shut all the while this happened. I am safely taking it to be sudden shock, or an ugly relapse at best. Turns out, the traitor is none other than my beloved ex-boyfriend, Archie Schiller. Tired of writing songs, he decided to write a confession for the NYPD instead. He gave a concise statement to the police, spilling each one of ours weaknesses and down falls. Self harm, anger issues, drug Addiction, alcoholism ... and, of course, bullying. I agree that the list is endless. But if one of us gets black circled, the others go down as well.
