The Brat Pack

Early Friday morning, April 6, 1984. Shermer High School, Shermer, Illinois.

"Sup, Johnny?" Bender greets as he sees Johnny leaning next to his locker, arms crossed over his chest.

"Bender," Johnny replies, standing up straight as Bender begins to twist the dial of his locker.

Johnny sniffles, scratching the back of his head. Bender pulls off the lock – new, by the way, since his went missing about a week ago - and throws the door open, peeling off his scarf and long coat, tossing them and his sunglasses inside. He kneels down and starts digging through the pile of shit at the bottom of his locker for his English notebook when Johnny clears his throat. Bender flips his hair out of his eyes, looking up.

"Something up, man?" Bender asks, licking his lips and standing up.

Johnny shrugs innocently. "I just think we need to talk is all."

Bender grins, shaking his head. He reaches to open the top compartment of his locker when something smashes into the back of his head, blackening his vision.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Bender hollers, turning around. A purse lays down by his feet.

"Did you think I wouldn't fucking find out?"

Bender looks up to see Stacey stumbling down the hall, her arms slung around her best girlfriend, Dahlia.

"Woah, are you drunk?" Johnny asks, looking between Stacey and Bender.

Stacey stops and points a black nail at Bender, swallowing loudly. "Fuck you, John Bender. Sleeping around with that slut Claire like I wouldn't know." Stacey is wobbling, nearly tipping out of her boots.

"You drunk bitch," Bender spits in disbelief.

Stacey grabs the thermos in Dahlia's hand and spins the top off, taking a swig.

"You brought that shit to school?" Johnny asks, majorly impressed.

Stacey throws an arm out. "What can I say? I'm a drunk BITCH!" Stacey flings the contents of the thermos onto Bender, soaking him through both his shirts.

The smell of vodka hits Bender's nose. He looks up at Stacey, curling his fist. "You've done it now!"

"What the hell is going on? Hey!" Bender looks up, watching as Vernon and two teachers hurry over.

Johnny looks like a deer caught in headlights. Dahlia rolls her eyes. Stacey lets a breezy laugh float past her red lips. Bender looks ready to kill.

"I'm drunk," Stacey announces, throwing her arm out and laughing. "I'm drunk." And then she breaks into sobs, letting go of Dahlia and falling to the floor.

"Stacey," Dahlia says, crouching down next to her. "C'mon, lemme help you up."

Stacey waves a hand away. "No, no." She hiccups. "I'm fine." She looks over at Bender. "What'cha gonna do, Bender?" She opens both arms. "Huh?!"

"Alright, enough of this nonsense. You two," he snaps at the two teaches, "help her up and get her to my office. As for the rest of you," Vernon looks at the other four, eyes narrowed. "Expect to be called down to my office later. And you," he points at Bender, who licks his lips. "Go to the nurse's office and change. You smell even worse than you usually do."

As Vernon turns away, Johnny throws his hands out and grabs Bender by the arm. "Don't do it, man. Not this close to graduation," Johnny whispers in his ear, watching as Bender curls his fist once again. Johnny lets go once Vernon is out of sight.

"DAMMIT!" Bender slams his locker shut, now realizing a crowd had begun to gather in the surrounding halls. Quickly he puts the lock back on and hurries away, elbowing through kids to get to the bathroom.


Bender has his hands gripped over either side of a sink, his breathing harsh. He hears the bathroom door open and looks up, ready to strike. Curtis comes in, a shirt hanging in one hand.

"Relax, it's just me," Curtis says, coming over.

Bender closes his eyes and shakes his head, breathing over the sink again.

"Here." Bender looks over as Curtis offers him the shirt. "My gym shirt. Or you could go to the nurse and get something nerdtastical to wear for the rest of the day." Curtis shrugs. "Up to you."

Bender pulls his jean jacket off, tossing it over the top of one of the stalls. He unbuttons his blue shirt and then pulls off the black long-sleeve underneath, dropping them to the floor as he takes Curtis's shirt. He pulls it on, narrowing his eyes as he sees Curtis frowning at him.

"Fucking what?" Bender snarls.

Curtis reaches over and takes Bender's left wrist in his hand, pulling his arm out straight and staring at the bruise forming near the crook of his elbow. Curtis lets go and huffs as Bender crosses his arms, refusing to look at him.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" Curtis asks.

"You know my dad, Curtis."

"Is that everything that happened?" Bender looks at Curtis now, watching him raise his eyebrows.

"I don't know what you want from me!" Bender snaps, pulling his jacket down and sliding it back on.

"I want you to tell me why you're hanging out with-"

"Don't fucking say something you may regret in the next few seconds," Bender warns, his voice dangerous.

"Why are you hanging out with her?!" Curtis snaps, taking a step forward. He's not afraid of Bender and Bender knows it.

"That's not your business. That's not anyone's business!"

"I'm supposed to be your best fucking friend, so I'd say yeah, it is my business. She's not our kind, Bender."

"Our kind?" Bender laughs. "Ha. Maybe I'm tired of our kind, Curtis."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means maybe I'm getting sick of hanging around with a bunch of low lives."

Curtis raises his eyebrows again. "So we're low lives now? Remember that you're not any better."

Bender nods, licking his lips. "Yeah? Yeah, okay. Some fucking best friend, Curtis."

Bender reaches down and grabs his shirts from the floor, slamming his shoulder into Curtis as he makes his way out of the bathroom.

"Don't be an idiot, Bender!" Bender hears just as the door slams shut.