The Breakfast Club Novels & Stories

The Weekend Club was put together a few years ago by a couple looking to make new friends outside of their marriage, people with whom they could escape their real life for a while before they came back to their jobs and kids and routines. They soon discovered that there was a large chunk of the population that loved that idea, and the club grew and expanded to cover most of the country.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but Rain asked me to inform you that breakfast is being served. There's a clubhouse meeting afterward that you're expected to attend." Of course there is. Heaven forbid I get a full night's sleep before being summoned to dragon court. "What time is it?" I ask, rubbing grit from my eyes. "Eight o'clock," she replies with an apologetic smile. "The meeting's at nine." I nod, attempting to look more alert than I feel. "Thanks. I'll be down after a shower." She hesitates, eyes flicking to something behind me. I follow her gaze to the abandoned apple from the orchard, now sitting on my nightstand. It glows faintly in the morning light, its skin luminous with inner magic.

The moment I pulled the door to the passenger seat open, he quickly snatched something up and tucked it into his pocket. The fabric of a pair of lacy panties peeked out of his bulging pockets. I pretended I didn't see anything as I buckled my seatbelt. A few minutes after he started driving, a unique ringtone belonging to Elise echoed in the car. He glanced at me and declined the call, but then he began typing rapidly on the screen, an indulgent smile on his face. We drove by the hospital, but he had no plans to stop. "Elise said that she wanted breakfast from Ron's, but she was late and didn't get to line up," he said. "We have Band-Aids at home; you can use them."

The imposter wearing my face. I sigh, tug on my hoodie, and leave my room. Breakfast isn’t happening in the main hall—no way in hell. These days, I grab something to eat outside, usually joined by Sonia and Elias. It’s become our unofficial support group: The Disappointed and Emotionally Damaged Club. We meet daily. Sometimes there’s coffee.

Matthew began carefully, “she took a ride to Midtown. Walked straight into the Blue Rose Breakfast Club.” Rene’s brow furrowed slightly. The Blue Rose wasn’t just any café, it was upscale, exclusive, and notorious for its private suites. Most thought of it as a boutique brunch spot, but Rene knew better. It was a meeting place for people who didn’t want to be overheard. “Who did she meet?” “That’s the thing,” Matthew said. “We don’t know.” Rene’s jaw ticked.

**Secrets Unraveling** The morning after the storm, the air in the house was thick with unspoken tension. Clara had barely slept, her mind racing with possibilities. Michael, on the other hand, had been pacing the living room, trying to piece together what little they knew. Breakfast was a quiet affair, with only the sound of silverware against plates breaking the silence. Clara finally spoke, her voice hesitant but determined. “We need to go to the meeting,” she said, placing her coffee cup down.

he got in beside me, but I wanted to believe that I had heard wrong. "Have me for breakfast? What do you mean?" "What? I said that?" He looked shy now, "I must have blurted out my mind without thinking." He inserted a nervous chuckle and exhaled. "Oh." "Yes, so what would you like for breakfast. The Breakfast Hub is known for its fresh bakeries and Gourmet Omelette," he explained. "Anything is fine honestly, as long as it's good," I replied not feeling the conversation and waiting for when he would snap and return to his usual hotheaded selfish self.

The club girls were usually in charge of breakfast, and none of them could cook worth a damn. The room was only half full of sleeping bodies, and there wasn't a glass or bottle in sight. What the hell was going on? The clubhouse was never that clean so early in the morning. Using both hands, I pushed open the door to the kitchen. “What's for breakfast?” I asked and then froze.

Part 48. Clara woke up earlier. She went straight to the kitchen. There were Mbok Iyem, Mbak Anik, and Mbak Cici preparing breakfast. "Clara, would you like some hot chocolate?" Mbok Iyem offered. She remembered the girl's favorite drink. "No, Mbok. I'm here to help prepare breakfast!" Clara replied. "No need, dear. Mr. Joe will get angry later!" Mbok Iyem cautioned, while the other two servants just looked at Clara in surprise.