The Brat Pack

Bender feels like he can trust no one, except Number One – himself. The last time Johnny, Craig, and Curtis found out he was hanging out with Claire, they weren't exactly pleased as fucking punch. His mother and father – Bender smirks to himself in anger as he thinks of them - he's never been able to trust them. And Claire... Bender's hand, still shaking from the encounter with his father, drifts up to touch Claire's earring, a loud, "Fuck!" resonating through the quiet street.

Bender kicks a trash can over and yells in anger again, running a hand through his hair as he comes to lean against the stop sign on the corner. His heart pounds in his ears as he pulls out a pack of cigarettes with cold fingers, lighting one and cursing to himself quietly. Why? Why did he have to fall in love with someone like Claire? Someone so rich and popular and perfect. Someone just so... Bender sighs as he thinks, slumping against the cold metal post.

Someone just as scared and torn as he is.

Bender feels the anger slowly ebbing away as he thinks, taking a long drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke up in the air. In the slowly lightening sky he sees an airplane and wishes he was on it, not caring where it would land so long as it would take him far away from here. He imagines Claire sitting next to him, pearls around her neck and a gown flowing to the floor as the pilot announces their arrival to Paris, an excited look crossing her face.

Bender shakes the thought off and flicks ash from his cigarette, starting across the street and touching Claire's earring again. In the back of his mind, he wonders how long it'll take before he screws this thing up with her for good.


Bender hates art. He hates science. He hates history, math, and English. But worst of all, Bender hates in-school suspension - or as he likes to call it, Hell. Hell is housed in Room 185, the smallest classroom of the school, complete with a blackboard, teacher's desk, two windows overlooking the teacher parking lot, and two rows of five wooden desks, one behind another, each complete with wooden dividers built around them. And the occupants of Hell? Even better.

When Bender does shit and gets caught, he'll at least grow some balls and own up to it. But the little Devils, as Bender likes to call them, who end up in Hell believe they are fucking angels who can do no wrong, and are there because the teachers of Shermer High are totally out to get them. If you do something bad, but not terrible enough for actual suspension, you spend a few days in in-school suspension. Get kicked out of class? Spend the rest of the day in Room 185. Pull the fire alarm? Spend the rest of the day in Room 185, with a Saturday detention on top. Already have a Saturday detention for asking Vernon if he raided Barry Manilow's wardrobe and skip a day of school? You'll be assigned to in-school suspension.

So to recap: Bender is fucked.

And once he gets to school, he already knows what's gonna happen: by second period, he'll be called down to Vernon's office, where he'll be questioned on his whereabouts of the day before, and when he can't provide a doctor's note to excuse his absence, he'll be told to spend Friday in Room 185.

And Bender really hates Room 185. He hates spending seven hours cramped at a desk doing school work he doesn't give a shit about while he has to listen to three, sometimes four other kids complain about why they feel they shouldn't have to sit there. At one point during that time, Bender always comes close to fist fighting someone.

So now here's Bender, walking the streets that are growing more and more with activity as kids leave for school and parents leave for work, a stub of a cigarette perched between his fingers, cold and hungry and without a plan to get himself out of this one.

But that all changes when Bender thinks of one person: Jack Carson.


Jack Carson might be a popular name in your everyday vocabulary if you happen to be one of two things: either A.) a prep with money who enjoys boating and has a membership to a country club, or B.) someone who needs a doctor's note to get out of being in trouble. Because you see, Jack's father, Aaron Carson, is a respected doctor in Springfield. And somehow, he always finds himself needing to make more copies of note paper to write excuses on, though he honestly doesn't know why. Not like his perfect son could be constantly stealing them...

...Just kidding, Jack sells those things faster than Bender can sell dope.

...And that gives Bender an idea.


On the corner of Bikney and Poppler is a small convenience store where, everyday like clockwork, Jack parks his shiny blue car in the parking lot and heads inside with his friends, the three of them buying sodas and heavily complimenting the owner, Mr. Jazzill, until he's nearly blushing, always oblivious to what the three kids are doing right outside his store. On nice days, the three stand outside Jack's car and eat granola bars, Jack waiting for his faithful customers to come running. On colder mornings like today, as Bender finds them, they sit inside Jack's car with the heat on and the radio up, playing the top hits of the week.

Bender stands on the corner across the street, staring at the back of Jack's car and licks his lips a bit nervously. He's never actually spoken to the guy, and while he's not afraid of him Bender feels...uneasy about it. Maybe it's because there's three of them and only one of him – odds he's taken on before but not always beat. Or maybe it's because his good knife disappeared during his last detention. Or maybe it's because Jack's friend's father is a lawyer who could send him to jail so fast his head would spin. Either way, Bender makes himself suck it up and quickly crosses the street, head down and his hands in his coat pockets.

Jack jumps when Bender knocks on the window of the driver's door, turning the radio off and eyeing Bender up and down suspiciously.

"I need a note," Bender says quietly and Jack licks his lips, seeming as uneasy about Bender as Bender does him.

"Fifty bucks," Jack says through the window, his friend grinning in the seat beside him.

Bender shakes his head, glancing around before clearing his throat. "I don't, uh-"

"No money," Jack snaps, "no deal."

Bender leans closer to the window to keep his voice low, afraid of the cops suddenly showing up, which they've had a habit of before. "I don't have money, but I have something else you might want," he says, smiling. "I'm sure you and your friends here enjoy the occasional high every now and then, don't you?"

Jack raises his eyebrows and grins, nodding. "Okay, hand it over."

"I have some in my locker. Fresh. Why don't-" Bender hops back as Jack opens the car door, an angered look on his face while his friends exit the car on the other side.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" Jack says indignantly, tossing his empty soda bottle at Bender, who dodges it. "Well, do you?"

Bender watches as Jack's two friends slowly begin to circle around him, their faces in sneers, but Bender shakes his head. "Look, alright? I've already had a shit day, I don't want no trouble."

"Really? Because it seems like you do," Jack says, the corner of his mouth suddenly turning up into a smile. "Say, alright. I'll give you a note, free of charge, under one condition. Just tell me one thing," Jack says and Bender raises an eyebrow, clearly confused but listening. Jack leans in closer and smirks. "Is Claire a good lay?"

Bender snarls and throws out his fist, landing a blow on Jack's cheek that sends him reeling. Jack's two friends jump Bender from behind and knock him to the ground, jabbing him with punches that land on his head and back. Loud yelling – Bender assumes to be the owner of the place – makes them move away quickly, Bender's vision blurry as he gets to his feet. He focuses it on Jack, who's holding his face with a look of anger, hurt, and confusion, and Bender points at him with a shaky hand.

"If any of you go near Claire, you're dead. So help me God I'll kill all of you and leave you for the rats to find. I got your number now, Carson, so you better watch your back." And with that, Bender scurries away.