Gutsy: A John Bender (Breakfast Club) Story

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

John was tense against my embrace, heart still hammering. He looked down at me and stroked my face, "I think you should come to my house tonight. I know last night I said I didn't want you to be around my family, but I think it's time you see everything."

"Are you sure?" I asked fighting not to stutter as he ran his thumb over my cheek.

Pursing his lips John nodded, "I owe you. I'm not proud of where I come from, but I'm not gonna hide it from you either."

I felt a mixture of gratitude and pride. I knew what I was going to see would probably upset me, but I didn't care. John trusted me to meet his family and be in his home.

"That means a lot," I said leaning into the hand that cupped my face. "I won't break your trust, promise."

A hurt look flashed across John's face and I blurted out, "I'm sorry!" but he gently shushed me, "It's not you," he grimaced. "It's me. I know I'll hurt you again. I'm not exactly trustworthy."

When I tried to protest, he laid a finger on my lips, tilting his head at me, "Don't make excuses for me. I'll either shape up and earn your trust or I won't."

My emotions wanted to throw caution to the wind and argue with him, but in my mind I knew he was right so I said, "You're awful smart, John Bender."

A crooked smile replaced the hurt on his face at my words, "Let's go find trouble." he said setting his jaw with his trademark mulishness.

I was surprised to find that his house was only a few blocks away from the school. It was yellow with green shutters and smallish. The yard was well kept, and it certainly didn't look like what I had expected for the outside at least. A hedge was neatly clipped on one side of the yard and a fence bordered the other. John had become increasingly agitated in the car as we drove over. When we pulled in the drive, he nearly broke my car door from throwing it open so hard and then slamming it closed. He stood fidgeting by the front bumper as I got out.

"Just let me do the talking, okay?" John said. "I don't think my brother's home which is good. His car is gone at least. I'm dead serious though, if he shows up, run. He's bad through."

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and goosebumps cross my skin at his words. I nodded and took a deep breath. John gave me a hard look for a moment sizing me up. Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me up to the front door crushing my hand with his grip.

He opened the door and pulled me inside. The first thing that hit me was the smell. The house reeked of stale beer, weed, and other things I didn't want to think about. It was dark inside, the windows shades pulled down. The walls should have been white, but were stained from smoke and the carpet didn't look much better. We walked into a living room where a TV sat glowing on a hutch. A dingy couch filled the space with two chairs flanking the corners.

Glass bottles and beer cans littered the couch and floor. A shape moved on the couch as the door closed behind us.

"Hi, Ma." John said to the shape, "Brought a friend over."

The shape wavered on the couch, slow and clumsy, taking a long moment to stand.

"Is that you Johnny?" a soft voice slurred. The woman turned to us and I could finally get a good look at her. She was small, mousy even with dark greying hair and a lined face. Her brown eyes were vacant and she clutched a bottle of vodka. She wore a flowered blouse that would have been pretty if it hadn't been so wrinkled and her green slacks were the same story.

"Yeah, it's me," John answered gently. "I brought company, Ma. Her name is Laura."

"Laura's a nice name," his mother said, finally focusing on me. "I'm Linda." She wavered again causing John to squeeze my hand.