Chick flicks, important news, langauge arts, and a fail 'date'.
Gerard and Lindsey had spent almost everyday hanging out. And Lord knew what they did.
Leaving Mikey alone to fend for himself, he managed quite well with take out and fast food though.
Mikey was out one day and Lindsey was over.
They spend a good bit of the time watching chick flicks. Gerard sat though the two movies without complaint, in all honesty he didn't find them that horrible. They were cheesy and predictable, but still. And he had had to rub his eyes a couple of times during the damn dog movie.
After they were over, Lindsey curled up tighter and smiled genuinely, to herself, glowing.
"What's got you so happy?" he teased.
She turned, from where she sat with her head on the arm rest, to face him. The corners of her mouth tugging up higher, she told Gerard, "I think I might be pregnant."
"Think?" He asked, flicking her nose playfully.
"Well. I haven't gone to the hospital. And honestly, I'm supposed to trust a little stick I pee on?"
"Of course not." He joked, rolling his eyes. "So, who's the daddy?" he added seriously.
She blushed and shook her head. "I dunno." she told him.
"It's cool, babe. Just known I'm here."
"Thanks Gee." Lindsey said, curling up at his side with her head in his shoulder.
They moved on to watching horror films. She had brought over her latest favorite, laughing like a sadist at the gore. He knew it was fake. But damn was it was graphic. He couldn't help but cringe a few times.
(aren't they a-fucking-dorable?)
It was December, the first week in.
Gerard had really given the classroom personality. It was filled with all the things he found out from Frank's mom that Frank liked.
Gerard had taken to wearing a Santa Hat everyday. He even sang Christmas songs. All things considered Frank didn't mind the singing, Gerard's voice was gorgeous, but in general, Christmas songs made him cringe inside. He just rolled his eyes at him. Inside he was grinning, too. Gerard was like a kid, shoved into some adult body.
"Alright, language arts, the subject I am worst at. No, wait. That's science. It was always something in that class. Burned my eyebrows off at least twice. Anyway." he said clapping his hands.
With Gerard, there was always some story. For everything. He was a great story teller though.
The man was brilliant.
He wrote a sentence on the board.
The music blasted through the room and bounced off the walls.
"We are going to start a little bit ahead of the basics."
Under the sentence he wrote.
4.) Blasted and Bounced
"Now I want to know which is the verb?"
Blink, Blink, Blink, Blink. Oh, the joy.
"Great. Which is the adverb?"
And they moved on. The sentences getting more and more complex as they went on.
The next day Gerard would screw up a sentence and have Frank correct it.
Frank missed the math. He liked math. That was how he brain thought, in numbers. Language Arts was tedious, and something he could hardly see himself needing.
It was one of Frank's grouchy days were he couldn't see the point. He had to 'learn' things, or rather, show Gerard what he clearly already knew. He would prefer staying in bed all day, watching tv or listening to music, fattening him up on his mother's amazing cooking.
He could think coherent thoughts, being grammatically correct hardly seemed important.
There were five more minutes to the bell, and Frank was stuck listening to Gerard's ramblings.
Gerard was laid back at his teachers' desk, feet on the desk, and hands behind his head.
It was one of those awful ones that was tin like. and clanged every time it was touched.
"We should invest in some bean bag chairs or somethin'." he mused.
"A Christmas tree, too. Maybe speakers."
Frank wanted nothing more than to run up, grab his shoulder and shake vigorously, whilst shrieking, "Enough already with the Christmas!"
But yes, yes to the speakers. At the moment Frank would like nothing more than to have his favorite bands drone out Gerard.
After spending two minutes successfully tuning Gerard out, the bell rang.
He went home to find his mom had tried to set him up with a girl.
She was perched on their couch, blonde hair, fake nails and all. Claud in Abercrombie, just like all the other barbies.
The words she spoke were nothing but garbage, and hardly intellectual.
At first he had planned on giving her a chance. But he could hardly pay attention to her words, let alone retain them.
Frank could tell immediately, from the first few words from her lips, that she had found him a sob story.
And when she was gone Frank didn't even know her name.
If she was the best his mother could do, if that was the best he could do, he was doomed.
He had always thought he was better off alone anyway.
You guys are like my new best fucking friends. My friends are so shit, but you guys are epic.
I butt on a cone you all.