FRERARD!! Gerard is dreading going to a new school,but when he makes friends with Frank things start to look up...but is it just friendship?
When I woke up it was still dark and raindrops the size of bullets are drumming against my bedroom window.
Yawning sleepily, I sit up and glance at my alarm clock. The luminous hands indicate its 6:30 am.
Great. Two hours and I have to be ready.. Two hours and my nightmare begins.. Two hours and I’ll be making my way to my third high school this year.
“It’s a fresh start-” my Mom promised last night over dinner as I picked at the pizza on my plate, stomach writhing with nerves. “-a chance for you to fit in.”
Despite myself, I had snorted at this. Yeah right. Fitting in is not something that seems to be easy for me.
My stomach suddenly feels likes it’s been invaded by an army of butterflies wearing hobnailed boots, fluttering uncomfortably round my stomach. Realising my nerves will prevent me from getting back to sleep, I sigh, roll over and scoop up my pencil and sketchbook from the carpet. I concentrate on drawing until the army of butterflies fluttering violently around my stomach feels more like one, tiny insignificant butterfly. I lose myself in the strokes of charcoal and the image in my head which is gradually being transferred to the blank paper as I block out reality.
“Gerard!!” A voice yells up the stairs and I jump, smudging my picture as I snap back into reality. The army of butterflies wearing hobnailed boots return.
“Gee!” The voice yells again as footsteps thunder up the stairs and someone attacks my bedroom door.
“What?” I call, reluctantly setting down my pencil and sketchbook. Seconds later the door bursts open and my younger brother Mikey stumbles into my room, wearing scruffy blue jeans, his new school shirt and stripy tie, red hoodie and an anxious expression. He’s clutching a half eaten piece of toast and peanut butter in one hand and his new school bag in the other.
“We’re gunna be late! We have to leave in five minutes!! What the hell have you been doing Gee?!”
“Fuck!” I groan, jumping up, snatching my scruffy black skinnies with rips in the knee off the floor and scrambling into them, then yanking my wardrobe door open and flinging on my new school shirt and tie like Mikey’s, followed by my favourite black The Misfits hoodie.
“Fuck!” I groan again as I catch sight of my reflection in my bedroom mirror. I look awful; scruffy, tangled black hair to my shoulders that sticks up in odd clumps, an unhealthy pallor and purple bags under my eyes which give the impression I haven’t slept properly for a week. Which is pretty much true actually.
I hurriedly smudge black shadow under my eyes and hurtle into the bathroom to brush my teeth and drag a comb through my unruly hair.
“Aww.. C’mon Gee.. We’re gunna be late!” Mikey whines impatiently as I dash back into my room, grab a slightly squashed pack of cigarettes from under my bed, shove them into my jeans pocket and stumble down the stairs after Mikey.
I dash into the kitchen where Mom is sitting at the table, sleepily sipping a mug of camomile tea and Mikey is fidgeting impatiently at the back door.
“Hurry up Gerard!” he moans crossly as I yank on my scruffy black converse with purple laces.
“Morning Gee sweetie.” Mom smiles sleepily at me. “Sleep okay?”
“Uhuh.” I reply as I grab my bag from the floor, wave goodbye and follow Mikey out the back door, slamming it behind us.
I make it down the garden path but have to hesitate by the gate and take a few deep breaths to calm myself, before Mikey grabs the sleeve of my The Misfits hoodie and drags me down the street.
Mikey hates being late, but personally, I’d rather be five minutes late than pass out from nerves on the way.
“C’mon Gee, it’ll be fine!” Mikey says impatiently, half running, half dragging me down the road.
“Yeah right.” I snort.
“No really!” Mikey attempts to reassure me.
It’s not working.
“Plus the girls there are meant to be really hot!” He adds with a grin.
I roll my eyes. At fourteen, Mikey is way more interested in girls than I am, even though I’m nearly two years older.
We round the corner and the school looms into view, looking like a weird cross between an alien spaceship and a high security prison. Great.
I groan as Mikey drags me through the gates and across the deserted yard. Ooops. Maybe we’re a little more than five minutes late…
The doors that read “main office” loom closer and closer and the receptionist looks up from her computer and mug of coffee as Mikey pushes open the doors and hauls me through after him.
“Hi boys, can I help you?” she smiles at us, pushing a strand of bleach blonde hair back from her face.
“Ummm.. Uhh.. We’re new here today.” Mikey mumbles, suddenly shy.
“Oh yes, Mikey and Gerard Way?” She asks with a quick glance at her computer screen.
We both nod.
“Hold on a sec while I get Mr. Miller for you- take a seat.” She gestures to a couple of squashy maroon chairs by the window.
We both sit down obediently, me looking anxiously around, nibbling my lip nervously and wondering whether to make a run for it, Mikey twisting his clammy hands apprehensively in his lap and nibbling his nails.
A few moments later, a tall, freckly man in a navy suit emerges from the door sporting the plaque reading “Headmaster” and approaches us.
“Hello Mr. Way and Mr. Way.” He says formally and I have to suppress a nervous giggle.
He shakes hands with us both and says; “I hope you will both enjoy being at Madras High School and excel at your lessons.”
I suppress a snort. Yeah right. That’s likely.
“Here are your timetables, and if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your form rooms.” Mr. Miller says, handing us each a timetable and starting off down the corridor, Mikey and I close behind.
As we walk through the endless maze of corridors, I glance at my timetable; Physics, Maths, PE, French and chemistry. Oh fantastic. I love this school already.
“You’ll be in class 11B Mr. Way.” Mr Miller addresses me, stopping us outside my future form room. “Your form teacher is Mrs. Brown and she will answer any questions you might have.”
I nod, take a deep breath and knock shakily on the door.