Title: Legacies

Summary: When Jane Bender gets detention, will she fulfill her parents' legacies or will she be able to build her own?

A/N: I don't own BREAKFAST CLUB but it IS the most awesome movie in the whole world! Classic, timeless, and unforgettable.


Okay, so it wasn't like I MEANT to kick Leroy Fallers in the nads. It just sort of…happened. I mean, what did you expect me to do? Just sit back and let him call Tami Rozalyn a slut all because some creeper got her knocked up? Honestly, I couldn't just sit there and let the girl here herself being degraded. She probably got enough of that at home. So I stepped in. I told Leroy to knock it off, figuring he would listen to me. As team captain on the hockey team, and me as his forward, I thought he'd actually hear me out. Of course not. He just had to tell me to screw off and mind my own business. Well, that's when I got pissed and my foot happened to slip right into his crotch. It wasn't like I INTENDED to hurt him, right?

Okay, so maybe my parents wouldn't buy it. But it was true – the part about Leroy shagging on Tami about being rapped and having a bun in the oven. I DID mean to hurt him, I meant for him to pay. Now, I have the pink slip in my hands to prove it. Detention – can you believe it? My first detention!

Now, usually I am your run-of-the-mill goody-good. I have one of the highest GPAs, I have never been late to class, and I am a lettering athlete – the one and only girl on the all-boys' hockey team. Nice gig, right? I enjoy it. Helps me work out my anger. Not that I have much anger. My life is pretty darn good when you think about it.

My parents are pretty cool, I guess. As far as parents go, I mean. So maybe they'll be cool about me getting Saturday detention.

HA! Fat chance.

I walk out of the school, shoving the pink slip into my green cargo pants, and make my way towards the beat up Honda. My dad sits at the wheel, trying not to stare at the school as if he might go up in flames if he did. My dad kind of has a reputation at this school – then again, so does my mom.

"Hey, kid," he greets me as I toss my backpack in the back and climb into the front, "How's the day?"

"Fine," I answer, trying to ignore the paper burning in my pocket.

"Anything interesting happen?"

"What do you think?"

"Geeze," my dad throws his hands up in the air as if in surrender, "I give up, J. You and your moods. I swear, you're like a freakin' roller coaster."

"What can I say? I AM a girl. We do that every once in awhile."

"Ew," he shuttered, "Don't talk to me about you're puberty business. That's your mother's area. Now, I will give you one last chance to give me a REAL answer this time."

I roll my eyes. Dad is tough, good but tough. He doesn't take my crap, no matter how much I feel like dishing it out. I bite back my sarcasm and say: "I got Saturday detention."


"I got Saturday…"

"I heard you!" Dad snaps before cooling himself down, "So…you gonna tell me what you did?"

"I sort of kicked Leroy Fallers in the nads."

Dad snorted and his snort turned into…LAUGHTER?!? Maybe it finally happened – like Mom always said it would – he went insane.


"Leroy Fallers? The hockey captain?"

"Leroy Fallers the hockey captain AND selfish, egotistical cad."

Dad nodded as if proud of me and my 'accomplishment.'

"I wish I could have seen that."


"What? It's true, you know."

"You're supposed to be mad at me."

"Alright," Dad smirked, "You're grounded for two weeks – no TV, no cell, no computer…that better?"

I roll my eyes, knowing his not being serious, "Da-ad!"

"Hey, you said be mad. Now when we get home, you better march that little butt of yours up those stairs and get to your room!"


"What? I'm serious."

"You are not," I roll my eyes again.

"Alright, so maybe I'm not EXACTLY mad."

"You're proud of me, aren't you?" I asked.

"No…" Dad blushed.

"Ah-ha! You are! You totally think that it's awesome that you're daughter kicked some hockey player's ass!"

"Okay, number one: don't say ass. Number two: maybe I am a LITTLE proud."

"I knew it!"

"Now, you're mother is an entire different story, kid."

"Do we HAVE to tell her?"

"No. WE don't have to tell her anything. YOU, however, do."

I let out a groan, much to my dad's own, personal amusement. He's on my side for a lot of things, but when it comes to Mom, I'm left standing alone. Great, Dad.

"Didn't you and Mom meet in detention?" I asked.


"I know you heard me."

"So what if we did?"

"Tell me about it."

"I don't think so."

"Why not?" I persisted.

"Because, its none of your business."

"Yes it is!"


"Daddy…" I stick out my lower lip and he caves, just like I knew he would.

"Look, kiddo, it was a long time ago…"


"How about this? You survive your first day of detention – and last – and as punishment, I get to bore you with the gory details of mine, got it?"

"Sure thing, Dad."

"Who's the most badass dad in the world?"

"Da-ad…" I complain. I can't believe he's doing this.

"Come on, J," he probes.


"Who's the most badass dad in the whole world?"

"You are," I sigh.

"And don't forget it," he grins, lightly punches me in the arm, and continues to drive.

"How mad do you think Mom's going to be?"

"Let's just say, I'll be the first to cry at you're funeral."


"Buried or cremated?"


"Hey, you need to be making arrangements for these things."

"DAD!" I shout and he finally stops.

"Alright, alright. I'll talk to her. Maybe she won't be too mad if I explain things to her, okay?"


"No guarantees you won't make it to see your eighteenth birthday."