Title: Special Delivery
Summary: Seven years after the Breakfast Club disbands, Andy receives a curious package in the mail.
Notes: Hmm, yes. I don't know quite where this came from, but I was watching the movie tonight and I figured I might as well start typing. Still looking for a beta reader, email: badmotorscooter at gmail dot com. Made some minor edits 7/22, why didn't anyone point this stuff out to me? Make that begging for a beta reader. Begging.
Word Count: 516
March 24, 1984 was ancient history to Andrew Clark. One Saturday detention, an emotional breakthrough at the time, but had little effect on the rest of his senior year. Brian was just a sophomore, Allison a junior, and Bender… well, no one quite knew but it didn't matter because he never went to school anyway. They didn't have any classes together, he did see them in the halls a few times, but Allison always seemed a million miles away and Brian usually had his nose buried in pages of notes. How he could walk like that without hitting anyone was a mystery to Andy, but he never spent much time thinking about it. He still ran into Claire at the occasional party, but even she remained distant.
He was too busy with his wrestling career to branch out and hold onto his four friends. His knee didn't give, and he went off to Iowa State on a scholarship, and now, seven years later he was an Olympic hopeful, training every day for the opportunity to join the team in Barcelona.
"...and the poodle answers '"After the night I had I think I need a double.'"
Andy laughed, nearly dropping his leg out of the stretch. These guys, they were intense about the game, but they knew how to make it fun, and Andy loved it.
A shadow dropped over the two friends as another figure approached, "Jesus, Fry, you still telling that same damn joke? Clark, you got a package, the guy at the front desk is bitching that this isn't your personal mail box or messenger service, but I'm a good guy, so catch."
Andy instinctively put his arms up and caught the box Ogilvive threw to him, even though a corner did catch him in the stomach. "What the hell is this?"
"How the fuck am I supposed to know? Just open it."
Andy carefully peeled off the brown paper, the handwriting and return address on the outside were meaningless. Inside was a shoe box with what looked like Chinese lettering on the side. His friends gathered around, not bothering to hide their curiosity.
"Hurry up man, we haven't got all day."
Andy rolled his eyes and lifted the lid, a familiar blue sweatshirt lay inside. It was more worn than he remembered it being, but seven years does that to anything. It had been carefully patched up, but not with blue cotton. Instead his old garment was decorated in patches, patches from Israel, Afghanistan, Kenya, Botswana, Taiwan, and dozens more. He lifted it up carefully, noting the largest patch on the back, State Champion. From somewhere inside the cloth, a postcard fell out with a picture of the Tokyo skyline on the front.
The back had only ten words.
Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.
P.S. Good Luck
He couldn't help but grin, she always had been rather efficient with her words. Zeke and Ogilvive were obviously waiting for an explanation, but Andy left them waiting as he silently slipped the sweatshirt on over his tank top.
It still fit.