It had been a long Sunday. Andy usually hung out with his wrestling buddies most of the day, but all they'd talk about was how glorious his prank had been. After half an hour he'd begged off, saying he needed to practice at home. Then he'd just chilled in his room, daydreaming about Allison and wishing to God he'd gotten her number. Hell, he didn't know where anyone from the Breakfast Club lived. And since they were the only people he was willing to face at the moment, he spent Sunday lounging around (until his dad caught him and made him work out).

Monday had not started off a lot better. He'd been lauded as a hero when he'd gotten to his locker. Seemed like that kid's hairy ass was all Andy was allowed to hear about these days. Even worse, he hadn't seen anyone from the Breakfast Club yet. Maybe they were avoiding him. That dork Brian must surely get to school early. Though admittedly Brian had pretty good reasons to avoid the athletes. Andy would too in Brian's shoes.

But it was not gonna break Andy's heart if he didn't stay friends with Brian. Allison, however... Andy had no idea if she even bothered coming to school. No, she must, 'cause she said she hadn't done anything to get detention. So she had to be here somewhere. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to act around her, in front of all the guys, but he knew he had to see her again. Hell, screw his wrestling buddies. When he saw Allison he was gonna greet her how he wanted. He just hoped he wouldn't chicken out when the time came.

Andy was hanging up his letterman jacket in his locker, ignoring the questions about where the hell his patch had gone, when someone ran into him.

"S-sorry, Andy-...rew" Brian stammered, correcting himself nervously. Andy turned and found not Brian, but Allison staring at him. She'd hit him with her shoulder, and he knew her well enough to know it hadn't been accidental.

She still had her ratty coat on, and the shitty shoes and bag filled with everything she could ever need, ever. But her hair was pulled back, today with a black ribbon. And her eyes weren't drenched in black shit. Jesus, she was so beautiful. Even when she glared at him like that. It was a challenge, but a scared one. Like she was daring him to reject her, but at the same time dreading him doing so.

This was it. He had to either man up and choose her, or be his usual cowardly self and stick with his pals. Up until he'd seen her, he'd thought it be a tough choice. But looking into her fragile eyes, which were just a little watery, made this the easiest decision in the world. Andy could never do that to her. He might have thrown Brian or John or even Claire under the bus, but not Allison. Never Allison.

Paul Moyer was saying something about dweebs and losers needing to know their place. He was posturing like the asshole he was, getting ready to rough up Brian.

"Lay off, Moyer," Andy said, facing Allison. Her gaze would have burned through steel. Anger at being kept waiting, standing there awkwardly, was building up inside her. But he figured he knew how to fix that.

Taking a step into her personal space - she instinctively leaned back, but thank God, she didn't actually move away - Andy said, "Hey there."

"Piss off, sporto," she snapped suddenly, turning to storm off, but she stopped dead in her tracks when Andy hurriedly responded, "Allison, wait!"

Brian would later report that the other sportos looked pretty shocked at Andy knowing the freak's name, but at the time Andy's attention was solely on her. The glare had gained a bit of uncertainty and just the tiniest bit of hope. Her lips were pressed in a thin line, and she clung tightly to the strap of her bag. Seemed to Andy there was only one easy way to tell everyone how he felt about her. So he buried his hand in her greasy hair, leaned in...

Her lips were dry and cracked, but he would happily kiss those lips all day if he could. His buddies were wolf-whistling, probably thinking it was all another stupid prank. Well screw that. Andy grabbed Allison's free hand before she could retreat. He leaned back to grab his notebook and pens from the locker, Allison giving him that cute, tilted smile of hers.

When they walked off together, her hand warm and sweaty against his, Andy couldn't care less about what his wrestling buddies thought.

Saturday evening, Allison was trying to control her excitement about kissing Andy. She'd always found him physically kinda attractive, but she'd never been particularly fond of him as a person. She didn't dislike him either, though, and detention had quickly warmed her up to him. He was actually a really sweet guy, it seemed. When he let himself be. Maybe she could get him to do that more often. The fact that he'd let her take his patch - which was tucked away in the pocket for important stuff in her bag - was a good sign, too.

But Sunday, when her parents had just sighed at her with disappointment and gone to church without even inviting her - not that she would have gone anyway - Allison rethought everything. Yeah, Andy could bring himself to kiss her when there were basically no witnesses, but there was no way in hell he'd admit to even knowing the rest of the Breakfast Club come Monday. He definitely wouldn't want to be seen dead with her. The klepto freak. The bag lady. The weirdo. He'd hang out with his sporto friends and laugh at her and Brian and John and all the other dorks and freaks.

Once Monday morning arrived, Allison looked long and hard at Andy's sweater, which was draped over her desk chair. It had felt pretty good draped across her shoulders Saturday. And anyway she'd sometimes get chilly in chemistry. Another layer would be useful. And it smelled like him. Besides, when he inevitably betrayed her, she could use it to at least shame him a little in front of his friends. 'You didn't feel that way when you took me out,' she'd say, brandishing it. Or something. She had time to come up with something clever.

Then she glared at the stupid pink hair thing Claire had given her. Screw that, Allison wasn't gonna show up to school all dolled up and pretty to catch herself a man. But Andy had liked seeing her face. And sometimes she got hot in English. It'd be nice to have her hair out of his- her face. A quick rifle through all the shit stuffed in her closet netted her a scruffy black ribbon, from back when she'd tried goth for a week before deciding it was too much work. Speaking of... Maybe she wouldn't go so heavy on the makeup today. Just because she'd spent so much time on everything else, and anyway she'd gotten up late, so she really didn't have time. That was all.

When she showed up at school, Brian found her first. He was eager to reinstate the Breakfast Club, it seemed. She allowed him to trail after her and yammer on about whatever he had to say. After a while she broke down and began making acknowledging noises, eventually going so far as to verbally respond to what Brian was going on about. Jesus, detention had changed everyone. She was glad he was smart enough not to comment on the changes in her appearance - not that they stemmed from what happened in Saturday or anything. But he could have made the mistake.

As they walked down the hall together - him to honors physics and her to English - Allison came to the firm conclusion that she was totally disinterested in any sporto. She might try to find Claire later, if she was alone, but Allison would be perfectly content to steer clear of any athletes.

"Hey look, there's Andy," Brian said, nudging her with his elbow, "Sh-should we go say hi? He's with the wrestling team though, and I really don't want my buns taped..."

That traitor! He was hanging out with those scumbags! So much for all that shit on Saturday about not wanting to be a wrestler, and how he wasn't like them and he'd stay friends with the other members of the Club. Of course he'd go back to those jocks. He got to be Mister Special with them, and they told him what to do so he didn't have to strain his pea-brain.

"A-Allison?" Brian prompted nervously, gingerly touching her arm.

She wasn't just gonna let Andy off easy, acting like Saturday had never happened. She sped up her steps and knocked into that asshole with her shoulder.

When he looked at her, she wanted to shove him. He had no right to look at her like that, like he was actually happy to see her. Selfish little prick!

One of the other meat-heads was grunting about Brian, and Allison was sure she was going to be witness to Andy being a chickenshit and letting his pals beat up Brian. But Andy told off the tallest guy, presumably so Champion Clarke here could do the honors himself. And here she was, standing here like an idiot with his sweater buried under her coat and his stupid patch in her bag. Damn him! Damn that smile he was giving her, and damn him for looking at her with that stupid faked warm expression. Like he actually gave a damn about her.

Asshole Andy dared to move closer, but she wasn't going to be so easily intimidated. She stood her ground, even as she fought the urge to slap him and run off and recover in private.

"Hey there," he said quietly, smirking.

Hell no, she wasn't falling for this.

"Piss off, sporto," she sneered, moving to leave. She wasn't a goddamn idiot, she knew he didn't mean it. No one ever meant it when they acted like they were happy to see her. Her parents had given up on that ages ago.

"Allison, wait!"

She turned back to face him, targeting the full brunt of her raging glare on those damn eyes of his. Andy grabbed her head, and she was about to punch him when he kissed her.

Allison didn't know what the hell she was doing, but she enjoyed herself anyway. So he wasn't a worthless piece of chickenshit. Just to make things clearer, he grabbed her hand and didn't let her escape, even as her habits screamed at her to. If his buddies didn't get the hint that she and Andy were together, they were dumber than they looked.

After they had walked a little ways, Andy's fingers interlocked with hers, he asked, "Where's your first class?"

Smirking to herself, she replied, "English."

Andy glanced at her in surprise. "How'd you know what class I'm in?"

"We're in almost all the same classes, idiot," she said.

"Really?" For a moment she thought he was disappointed, but when she looked at him he was staring at her with that stupid lovesick expression of his. "You don't sit with anyone, do you?" he asked, not an accusation. She shook her head, which made him grin. "Well, now you will," he said.

She had to give it to him; when he cared to be, Andy was a man of his word.

By lunchtime, Andy had barely left her side. They only had one class apart, and he'd met her at the door of her classroom afterwards. He sat right next to her at lunch, which they shared with Claire and Brian. John showed up halfway through, reeking of cigarette smoke, and shoved Brian aside to sit next to Claire. Their flirtatious banter was pretty stupid and entertaining, but annoyingly Andy wasn't listening. He mostly just stared at Allison with that dumb lovestruck expression of his. And once he'd finally finished his smorgasbord of a lunch, he very slowly and carefully slid his arm around her waist, watching her face intensely. What'd he think she was gonna do, stab him? She actually really liked it. Because she was sure it was freaking out all the preppies, of course.

Allison pulled the sleeve of Andy's- of her - sweater over her hand and moved to wipe her mouth off, but hesitated. It was one thing to do that to her shitty, ratty sweater, but to this... It actually held some value to her, which was rare. Grudgingly she reached for a napkin instead.

"So, I see you're wearing the Sporto line," John said lazily, his arm draped across Claire's shoulders in what was most likely a (successful) attempt to annoy her.

"What?" Allison snapped defensively, "It's cold in here."

"I think she looks good in it," Andy said, still smiling at her.

"Jesus, check out these two lovebirds. My doctor said I had to cut back on the sweet stuff, ya know. Have a little respect."

"Oh, shut up," Claire said, "I think it's really cute."

Allison wasn't sure how she felt about being considered cute.

As they walked out of school hand-in-hand, like they'd done on Saturday, Andy asked, "Mind if I walk you home?"

Allison only threw him a sideways glance. "Doesn't your dad pick you up?"

"I told him I'd stay late at school practicing. He'll forget about me for the rest of the day."

Shrugging, Allison stared at her coat, which was folded over her arm. "Well, it's a free country, sporto."

"I'll take that as a yes," Andy said triumphantly, pulling her closer so he could put his arm around her. Anyone else did that, in front of all these witnesses no less, and they'd be dead. But somehow she didn't mind so much when it was Andy. A very small, deeply buried part of her enjoyed it. So, she supposed, she'd allow it this one time.

They walked in silence for a while, Allison lost deep in thought. This was working too well. She must be missing something. There was no way Andy would ever actually stick around. He'd get sick of her eventually. She was too weird.

Andy must have noticed her frowning, because he asked softly, "Hey, are you OK?"

"Yeah," she replied instantly, out of habit.

"Are you cold? Here," Andy said, letting go of her. Seemed counterproductive to Allison, but then she realized he was taking off his letterman jacket.

She was about to comment on the fact that she clearly had a coat already, when he gently draped the jacket on her shoulders.

"What's this for?" she snapped, the shock throwing her into defensive mode.

Andy shrugged and didn't look at her for a few seconds. Then he replied, smiling at her, "I think you look pretty cute wearing my stuff."

"What am I, your possession?"

"No! No, it's just-..." He sighed and looked away again.

Allison hadn't meant to sound so displeased with it. Shit.

"Here," she said abruptly, foisting her coat at him. Andy turned to her and, confusion written on his face, took the coat from her. Allison slid her arms into the sleeves of her new letterman jacket and flipped her hair out from under the collar.

"Will you come visit me in the hospital?" she asked, a playful lilt to her voice. Andy's enraptured expression broke.

"What? Why would you be in the hospital?"

Allison picked at the loose threads from the patch she'd torn away. "For when your buddies see me in this."

"No one's going to hurt you," Andy said, his voice heavy. It wasn't a reassurance. It was a promise.

"You don't know that," she challenged, checking the length of the sleeves on her arms.

"I'll make sure of it." His voice was even lower, quieter.

Allison pondered this for a few moments. "That why you've been following me around all day?" she asked eventually.

Andy looked embarrassed, and though he slid his arm back across her shoulders, he wouldn't meet her gaze.

"I guess. Partially, yeah."

"Andy..." Allison had only ever spoken so softly to him. But her heart was melting like never before, just from looking at his agonized expression.

When he finally looked into her eyes, he looked determined.

"When you said your parents ignored you... I swore I would never let you feel ignored again. I don't want you to ever forget-... I won't ever ignore you, Allison. I promise."

She snorted, her instincts telling her to disbelieve him. "You can't promise that. When we get older you're gonna get sick of me-"

Andy pulled her to a halt and kissed her suddenly. She was most definitely not used to this. She wasn't used to... him . When she'd kissed before it had been just for the hell of it. Just because it made her feel like she existed, if only for a second. But this... but him ... He wasn't kissing her on a whim. He wasn't kissing her just because she was a female with lips and he felt like it. Andy was kissing her because she was Allison Reynolds, his girlfriend. At least she assumed Allison Reynolds was his girlfriend. Giving the letterman jacket was a pretty serious sign of commitment, after all.

God, she was wearing Andy's jacket. Over Andy's sweater. Someone in this world actually cared enough about her to give her the clothes off their back. He must be cold now, given how warm and snug his jacket was.

"I'm not gonna get sick of you," he whispered when he finally released her.

The thing of it was... in that moment, his hands cradling her face, his eyes warm and open... Allison could actually believe him.

The walk home was too short for her taste, not that she'd admit it. It felt nice to just spend time with him, alone. No pretenses, no masks, just him. And just her. It was bizarre how comfortable she felt with him. Ever since he'd gotten her to say how her parents mistreated her, she'd known she could trust him. He'd seen her at her weirdest and her weakest and he still liked her.

When she started up the front steps, Andy playfully tugged on her hand and pulled her into another kiss.

"Can I walk you to school tomorrow?" he asked, holding her fingers tightly, his thumb rubbing along her knuckles.

"Why?" Allison hadn't intended it to sound so defensive, but Andy just smirked.

"Cuz that's what boyfriends do, isn't it?"

Allison gaped at him for a moment as she processed this. It was one thing to think about them dating. It was another to hear him state it casually. She actually felt like a normal girl, which was quite possibly the weirdest she had ever felt. This guy, who had his pick of the cheerleaders and preppies - well, ok, maybe not that much, but pretty close - wanted to date her. The crazy bag lady.

"Want to watch a movie?" was the response she came up with.

Andy seemed momentarily confused by the non sequitur, but he nonetheless replied in the affirmative.

Nodding tersely, Allison continued up the stairs and unlocked the front door. When she turned to look at Andy, she realized he was still down on the walkway.

"You gonna watch from there?" she demanded. Andy furrowed his brow.

"Movie's in here, sporto," Allison sighed, gesturing to her house.

"Oh! Uh, are you sure your parents won't mind...?" Andy tentatively put a foot on the bottom step.

"Won't be home til ten," she explained abruptly.

Nodding nervously, Andy followed Allison inside.

She'd chosen a horror flick, and Andy sure as hell wasn't going to chicken out on day two of them dating. It was a great excuse to hold her tight, so it was all good anyway. Even if he jumped at every jump scare and she anticipated it with a devilish grin.