Gutsy: A John Bender (Breakfast Club) Story

Tears

So this was John's life. Pretty dismal to have father who beats you, a drunk for a mother, and a brother who's such a hood he makes you look like a saint. No wonder he hid in his room when he was home.

Suddenly, the door slammed open making me jump. I started to laugh thinking it was John, but the sound died in my throat as I realized it wasn't him. A young man dressed head to toe in black stood in the doorway. His face was pale and his eyes were a cold blue, hatred shone from them. Stringy black hair hung down from his head and a cigarette dangled from his lips.

Cold fear shot through me. This had to be John's brother, Brock. John had told me to run....but I was trapped. With a grunt he lunged toward me and I scuttled backward. I was up against the motorcycle now with nowhere to go. My hand dug furiously in my pocket as the guy came at me again. I dodged a groping hand, but stumbled over a wrench on the floor. I received a stinging blow to the side of my face as a consequence of my clumsiness that made my ears ring. An iron grip clamped onto my arm impeding my pocket searching. I kicked Brock in the shin and with my free hand I punched the guy in the side below the ribs as hard as I could, making him swear loudly and causing him to reel back from me.

A roar of rage came from the door of the room and John rocketed into his brother. Every unprintable name under the sun was coming out of the mouths of the two brothers as they brawled on the floor. Brock grabbed a screwdriver from the floor next to him and tried to stab John with it. In response, John began to throttle his brother yelling, "Touch her again and I'll kill you!"

I finally had found what I wanted in my pocket, a slim switchblade that my parents knew nothing about. Everything had happened so fast I wasn't sure if I should try to jump in now or not. Brock began to slow down as his wind was cut off. His once pale face was now tomato red and he gasped as John choked him. Suddenly a new fear jumped to my mind, what if John killed his brother right now because of me? John was completely livid with white hot anger and was liable to do anything.

"Wait!" I said loudly, letting my own anger spike my voice. I flicked the blade on the knife causing it to jump out with the speed of a hungry silver flame.

"WHAT?" John growled at me, face twisted in anger. A sneer crossed his face and his eyes widened when he saw what was in my hand.

Holding down Brock John paused in his beating. Moving so that I stood over his brother, I brandished the switchblade in front of his face. "See this? If you ever try to touch me or harass me again, you will not catch me unaware again and I will use this. I'll walk away from the fight and you won't. Understand?"

John backhanded his brother, "Listen, if she doesn't kill you than I will. I mean it Brock. Stay away from her or its over for you."

All the fight seemed to go out of Brock at our threats. He laid limply in John's grip and rasped, "Alright...Alright...I'll leave her alone. Let me up."

John yanked his brother up off the floor and roughly shoved him out the door. His brother stumbled into the hallway as John slammed the door behind him. John stood with his back to the door chest heaving, hands balled into fists. Hatred practically radiated off of him. With a yell he slammed a fist against the door leaving a dent.

Turning slowly, John faced me. A bruise on his cheek was beginning to swell and a trickle of blood dripped from the side of his lip where his brother had punched him. He swiped at the blood, wiping it on his jeans. Anger and worry etched his face as he looked me over. I knew my own cheek must be swelling with the heat and soreness that radiated from it. He swore again, softly this time.

"I never should have brought you here." He said still vibrating with anger. "Besides, I thought I told you to run."

Something between a sob and a laugh escaped me, "There was nowhere to go."

John sighed heavily and closed his eyes, bowing his head. "I know. This is all my fault. Brock's car was gone and I didn't think he was home. I should have checked before I let you come in."

Stubbornness flared inside me, "I'm not sorry I came."

"You'd have been sorry after beat and raped you." John answered with a glare.

"That's what this is for." I stated, brandishing my switchblade.

A small smile played over John's lips, "I can't believe you have a switch in your pocket."

"Kinda handy when things get a little rough." I smirked.

John walked to me and brushed my bruise with his fingers. "My little ice queen. I'm never going to let anyone touch you again."

"I'm sorry your brother's so awful." I said.

John sighed, "Maybe this was for the better. I beat the crap out of him first so now he will be less likely to try something."

No words seemed to suffice so I busied myself putting the knife back into my pocket. John watched me, worry still lining his face.

"How come you're not bawling your eyes out?" he asked. "Any other girl would be a basket case right now."

Grimacing I decided to answer honestly, "I kinda want to, but now doesn't seem like the right time."

Hurt shone in John's eyes at my words, "Still don't trust me, huh?"

"That's not it at all!" I exclaimed, "I guess its more that we're both worked up and trying to be tough and I don't want to be the person who chickens out first."

A smile the size of Texas came over John. "Ice queen, only you would say something like that. But lay off the tough act. I won't call you a chicken...at least this time." he pulled me into him, "I won't tell if you cry."

So I did. I clung to him and cried into his shirt while he comforted me. Inside I could feel my heart warming all the more to this strange boy who held me. For once, he didn't make fun of me or tease. He simply stroked my hair and let me cry. After my initial tears, my nerves settled down and I could tell my composure was coming back. I heaved a deep breath into his chest before stepping away from John.

"I call dibs on holding you next time you cry." John said.

I laughed as I wiped away the last tears. "I haven't cried in a long time and don't plan to do so again anytime soon."

Putting his arm around me John said, "I still call dibs."