The Brat Pack

Early Sunday evening, April 1, 1984. Shermer to Springfield, Illinois.

"What the fuck?"

Bender's eyes bug out of his head when he opens his front door to find Claire Standish on his porch. He leans against the door frame, trying to block her view of the kitchen. "The fucking mall shut down or something?"

Claire shrugs. "I got lost."

"Like hell you did!"

Claire twirls a set of car keys around her ring finger. "Wanna go for a drive?"


The wind runs its fingers through Bender's hair as Claire makes her way down the highway, the top to her car down. Bender notices clouds darkening the sky. He has his arm up around the back of her seat.

"So where are we going, anyway?"

Claire shrugs one shoulder.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

Claire shrugs both shoulders. She hunches over the steering wheel a bit. "I'm grounded and got bored, so I felt like going out. If you didn't want to come, you could've just said no," she snaps.

Bender throws both his hands up. "Woah, woah. Don't get all defensive on me. I was just asking, jeez." He notices the sign for Springfield pass them. He stares at her.

"Springfield? If you're grounded, then why are we going to Springfield?"

"I'm grounded with conditions."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I'm grounded unless I'm attending a school function."

"We're going to Springfield for a school function?"

"No."

"Please use your words and explain this all to me, Claire."

Claire sighs. "My parents think I'm working on my French project with Ella. I'm with you. Get it now?"

Bender leans over and pulls the brown sunglasses from off Claire's eyes. Claire swats him away, bright orange hair tickling her face. "Bender, do you mind?! Jesus, I'm trying to drive here, unless you want us both dead."

Bender studies the sunglasses, sliding them over his own eyes. He shudders, not liking the way they feel on his face. He takes them off, noticing the name on the inside of the arm. Prada. He snorts.

"So where's Ella at, then?"

Claire shrugs again. "Working on our French project."

"And where does she think you are?"

Claire glances at Bender, giving him a sly smile. "Grounded."


The air is cooled by the time they hit Springfield. Claire puts the top up, rubbing the goosebumps on her arm. Her hair is a bird's nest. She glances at Bender. He stares back.

"You keep doing that."

Claire bites a pink lip, inching the car forward. "Doing what?"

"Looking over at me like I'm gonna jack your radio and take off with it."

Claire shrugs, then looks over at him, dead serious. "Wait, you wouldn't, right?"

Bender throws his hands up. "Okay, so we're in Springfield. What are we gonna do?"

Claire points to a billboard looking over them. Bender squints up at it. "Bowling, three miles north." He snorts. "Bowling?"

"Got anything better to do?" Claire asks, stepping on the gas as the light changes.


Embarrassed is the first emotion Bender feels as Claire hands him his pair of bowling shoes. "I could've paid for that, you know. You don't have to treat me like some guy you picked up off the side of the road or somethin'."

Claire studies him. "I wasn't. I invited you, I paid for you." She shrugs. "It's simple."

"It's insulting. I'm the man, I should pay for you."

Claire rolls her eyes and says nothing, heading down towards an open lane.

Bender follows her, opening his arms wide. "And there are plenty of bowling alleys in Shermer."

Claire picks up a red bowling ball, running her hand around it. "There's also plenty of people to see us together in Shermer."

Bender grins. "You're ashamed to be seen with me, aren't you, Claire?"

"Oh, don't give me that. You know it's true for you, too."

Bender lifts one shoulder, the grin still on his face. "Touche."

Claire points. "You're up first."


Hours later finds Claire and Bender laughing in a small booth at Giordie's, a random diner Bender picked out after he was bored of bowling and Claire was hungry.

Claire sips her milkshake, her bracelet clanging with the table as she sets down her arm and leans back, laughter still on her face. Bender shakes his head, looking up at her through his hair.

"So tell me, Miss Standish," he leans forward, "did you have fun on this date?"

Claire's face reddens and she scratches the back of her neck. "C'mon, Bender, this wasn't a date."

"Oh?" he rests his chin on his folded hands, elbows up on the table. He cocks his head a bit. "Then what was it?"

"We went bowling and we got hungry so we left and went to dinner."

"Went to dinner?"

"Went for a snack! You know what I mean," she huffs.

"So we went out?"

"Yes."

Bender grins.

"I mean, no! I mean we went out but not together. I mean together but not like a-"

"A date?"

Claire points a pink finger at him. "Exactly!"

"So if it's not a date, what is it then, hmm?"

Claire thinks for a minute, leaning over and taking a fry from their shared basket in the middle of the table. She shoves it in her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. Bender picks one up, stirring the ketchup with it. He looks up at her as she swallows.

"An outing."

"A what?"

"An outing. This was not a date, but an outing," Claire says, looking pleased.

"Isn't that what people say when they're on a date but don't want to admit it?"

"No, it's what people do when they want to spend the day together."

"But we spent the night together. And stop shrugging!"

Claire grins as Bender licks his lips. He leans back, twirling the same fry in his hand.

"Claire Standish."

"John Bender."

"Admit this was a date."

Claire grins, narrowing her eyes. "Or what?"

Bender holds up the fry tipped with ketchup. "Or this stains your blouse."

Claire's hands come up, trying to cover as much of her top as she can. Her face is one of horror. "Bender, you wouldn't!"

"I would." He pretends to launch it and Claire flinches, slamming shut her eyes. She opens them slowly, staring at him.

Claire lowers her arms after a minute of Bender not doing anything, a grin on his face. "Why are you so adamant on me saying that word?"

Bender lowers the fry. "What's that mean?"

"What?"

"Adamant."

Claire frowns, thinking. "It means you want me to say this was a date and won't be persuaded otherwise. Why?"

Bender shrugs, then leans forward. "Because you like me, and I want to hear you say so."

Claire leans forward too. "But why?" she whispers.

Because I think I like you back.

Bender can feel his thoughts swirling, everything mixing together. Fuck. FUCK.

He leans back against the booth and takes a large bite of the fry, but all he says is, "Pass the ketchup."