Beauty And the Brain (The Breakfast Club)

Confrontations, Cover-Ups and Comfort

10:15 am

Carl Reed, janitor of Shermer High for 8 years and once Man of the Year in 1969, pushed his supply cart with him, heading towards the library. He heard loud shouting inside. He opened the door stealthily: he saw the jock and the delinquent fighting on the floor and a glint of metal in the new girl's hand, looking at it as if she were trying to figure out how to close it. His eyes widened when he realized what it was, carefully closing the door. He turned his head towards Vernon's office.

"Hey, Vern!" he called.

Vernon was sitting in his office, bored out of his mind until he heard Carl call out to him.

"Yea?"

"You might wanna get in the library, man," he said. "There's a fight going on in there...and one of them has a weapon."

Alarmed, the man got out of his seat immediately, smoothing out his suit. Only two hours into detention and already there was a problem. 

"Oh for CHRIST sake!" he grumbled exasperated.

With a quick step, he flung the door open and observed the scene in the library: the athlete and the criminal wrestling on the floor and the red haired miscreant was clutching a switchblade in her right hand. The fighting boys didn't even hear the library door being opened loudly.

"DONOVAN!!!" he yelled. "What the HELL do you think you're doing?!"

Sheila looked up to see Vernon staring straight at her. By the looks of it, he was several levels of royally pissed off. She froze like a statue. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Her face turned white. Her stomach sank. Her mouth went dry. Her green eyes wide as dinner plates. She felt like she was going to faint.

This looked bad. No. She was in deep shit.

Vernon stared at the knife in Sheila's hand, then the two fighting boys on the floor, deciding which situation to handle first. Judging by the frozen expression on her face, he knew she wasn't going anywhere. The fight between Andrew and Bender needed to be dealt with first since it was an accident was waiting to happen. That meant filling out an incident report. So much fucking paperwork and investigations. Things Vernon didn't want to deal with at all.

"Don't you DARE move!" he warned, pointing a finger at Sheila.

Vernon marched straight towards Andrew and Bender, pulling them apart roughly.

"Alright, you two! Break it up! Let's go!" he said sharply. "Break it up! What's the matter with you?! Get back to your seats!"

Andrew backed off when he heard Vernon's stern voice like a dog hearing its master's command. The boys stood up, straightening themselves out, flushed with anger and glazed with sweat, panting. They gave each other dirty looks. Vernon glared at Andrew first.

"I expected a varsity letter man to have some restraint," Vernon said sternly. "Any more fighting in here and you'll be here next Saturday. Is that clear, Andrew?"

The athlete lowered his head in shame, sitting down. He nodded quietly. Then Vernon turned to Bender; it was pretty obvious he was the one responsible for starting this fight.

"That's another Saturday I'll be seeing you, Bender," he said.

Bender remained defiant as ever, flipping his hair out of his face, returning to his seat.

Once the boys were back in their proper seats, Vernon turned his attention to Sheila, striding up to her like an angry bull.

"Give me that knife," he demanded, ripping the switchblade out of her hand.