Gerard is scaring a lot of people...
Gerard’s point of view:
For what’s probably the first time in my entire existence, I’m sitting at the kitchen table, jiggling my left leg up and down nervously and sipping a mug of black of black coffee to try and calm my fluttering stomach, dressed in clean clothes, showered and ready for school when Mikey stumbles sleepily into the room, yawning widely.
His mouth stays open when he sees me sitting there.
“Unughh…hih? Wha-?” he mumbles blearily, clearly confused as he rubs his bloodshot, sleep deprived eyes.
“Umm…morning Mikes?” I say tentatively, adjusting my school tie and running a hand through my freshly washed and straightened hair.
“Wha-huh- why are you… are you…ready?!” he gapes.
“Ummm…kinda..” I duck my head, embarrassed.
“Oh my fucking god! Who are you and what have you done with my brother?!” Mikey says, looking utterly appalled at the thought of me voluntarily getting ready on time for school.
“Umm…” I mumble, still hiding behind my unnaturally tug-free hair.
“Shit, Gee, this is not normal…it’s like I’ve woken up to some kinda freaky parallel world!” Mikey shakes his head disbelievingly, looking totally freaked out as he sits down at the table and pours himself a bowl of coca pops.
I say nothing, feeling very jittery and butterfly infested at the idea of sitting next to someone in biology in less than an hour; stomach fluttering, palms clammy, leg jittering up and down shakily with badly suppressed nerves.
“Hold on…have you WASHED your hair?!” Mikey gasps suddenly, spilling milk all over the table as he studies my head in disbelief.
“Oh god.” Mikey munches his cocoa pops, still shaking his head bemusedly and continuing to survey me as if seriously worried for my sanity.
We sit in slightly uncomfortable silence for a couple of minutes, me feeling a little more than slightly embarrassed about how clearly obvious my effort to look halfway decent for biology is, or more honestly, Frank Iero…
I seriously don’t know what the hell is wrong with me; I slept two hours last night, tossing and turning; thinking about seeing him the next day in biology, planning what to wear and what to talk to him about. when I finally managed to sleep, my dreams were brimming with a smaller than average, skinny, pale skinned boy with a lopsided grin and beautiful, big dark eyes who’s colours swirl and mingle together; russet, jade, gold.
Eventually, when I awoke from these dreams, it was five AM and I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got up and got ready, taking the time to make sure I didn’t look like I’d just crawled out of a coffin. I don’t think I’ve ever cared this much about looking okay, which scares me just a little bit- not to mention Mikey…
Mikey suddenly stops munching his cereal, leans forward and sniffs my freshly washed Murderdolls hoodie suspiciously.
He drops his spoon on the kitchen table in shock, spilling half-chewed cocoa pop and milk mush.
“You’re wearing clean clothes?! And have you SHOWERED?!”
“Uhhh…yeah?” I say a little warily.
“Oh.my.god.” Mikey pushes his chair back and gets a little unsteadily to his feet. “No. just…no. this isn’t right!” and with that, he stumbles hastily from the room, shaking his head and muttering “Jesus Christ”, which doesn’t really boost my confidence.
“I know what all this is about!” Mikey says smugly as I walk unnaturally briskly across the grey school yard and he struggles to keep up with my unusually speedy pace.
Unfortunately, after waking up a bit, he seems to have come to terms with the fact I’ve actually showered and is now more curious than disturbed.
“What?” I snap, not in the mood to be teased by annoyingly curious younger siblings; the main entrance of the school is looming closer with every step and ever second is ticking clo0ser to the time when I’ll be sitting in Biology next to Frank Iero, trying not to burn things, stutter, or do anything inappropriate.
“You like someone!” Mikey smirks triumphantly.
“What? I do not!” I lie, pulling my hoodie closer around me in the swirling, cloudy grey early morning mist, and walking faster still to try and shake Mikey off.
“Do too!” Mikey grins irritatingly, half jogging to keep up with me.
“No I fucking don’t!” I snarl defensively.
“Then how do you explain the shower? The clean clothes? and the fact you actually wanted to leave for school? Usually I have to physically drag you from your bed two minutes before we’re meant to leave!”
“Oh…just fuck off, Mikes!” I snap, not able to come up with a reasonable excuse, partly due to the fact my brain wont stop bleating “Frank Iero!”
“Ha! I knew it!” Mikey says in an infuriatingly chirpy voice. “I bet I know who it is, too!”
I roll my eyes in exasperation.
“Have they got greenish brown eyes?”
“A side fringe?” Mikey chirps, skipping along behind me as we near the school doors.
“Does their name sound like Fra-“
“MIKEY!!” I snarl furiously, stopping dead and whirling round to face him.
He doesn’t stop skipping in time and smacks into me.
I glower angrily at him, not budging.
“What?” Mikey says innocently, rubbing his arm where it collided with my chest.
“If you say another WORD about this, especially in school, I will happily tell Bee you have a ginormous crush on the history teacher, Mr. Davies and your hobbies are stalking guys, dressing up in Mom’s clothes and snogging your poster of Billie Joe Armstrong each night before bed! So SHUT UP about it, okay?!”
“You know, it’s more likely to be you snogging the poster of Billie Joe, Gee…after what happened when you and Cat were watching him on TV that time…” Mikey grins slyly.
“Arghh!” I growl furiously, stomping across the yard towards registration, leaving Mikey snickering behind me as the first bell rings.
For what must the first time in the whole of my high school career, I’m on time for registration- Mrs. Young hasn’t even started calling the register when I flop down beside Bee, who looks ready to fall asleep at the desk.
“Hey.” I say to her, as Mrs. Young shoots me a puzzled look, as if she’s contemplating how or why on earth I actually managed to get to school on time. Bee looks less puzzled; after all, she’s only known me since the start of the week, and therefore doesn’t know how rarely I even make it to registration.
“Hi.” Bee yawns. “You okay?”
“Yeah, you?” I say, even though my insides are somersaulting with nerves and anticipation…just five minute to Biology..
“Sleepy.” Bee smiles sheepishly. “Thanks for letting me hand out with you guys after school yesterday- it was awesome.”
“No problem- It was awesome.” I smile. “you can hang out with us today too, if you want.”
“Thanks.” Bee grins, flicking her reddish brown hair out of her face. “I reall- Gerard?” she breaks off, looking a little puzzled.
“Have you done something to your hair? It looks…different…”
I lean forward and bash my head on the tabletop.
As soon as registration’s over, I walk as quickly as can be classed as non-freaky towards Biology, waving a hurried goodbye to a slightly bemused Bee, as I disappear into the mass of chattering students, weaving my way through them at an unnatural speed.
I arrive at biology before anyone else, panting slightly and smoothing my hair. Mrs. Evans gives me a slightly suspicious look as I flop dawn in my seat, getting out my jotter and textbook.
I guess I can see her reasons for suspicion; I’m usually at least five minutes late for class- if I turn up- and am not eager to even get out my jotter, let alone do any work.
I smile and her and she looks positively freaked out. Suppressing giggles, I get my phone out to message Cat, beginning to fear for my sanity.
“I think I need professional help. Lol. Xo G.” I press send and slip my phone back into my pocket as the rest of the class gradually trickles in; the geeks, the jocks, the “popular” kids, the slutty, orange foundation girls and Dom and Luke who are attempting to “flirt” with the popular girls by staring at their boobs and sniggering stupidly.
Eventually, Mrs. Evans starts the lesson, even though Frank hasn’t turned up yet.
Five minutes into a dangerously boring power point on “how to produce a good project”, there’s still no sign of him.
Another five minutes pass, and even though I’m staring intently at the door, willing it to open, the class remains disappointingly Frank-less.
My writhing, squirming, somersaulting stomach of nerves, clammy palms of shaky apprehension and jittery impatience are fading, only to be replaced with the heavy feelings of disappointment and shame at my previous over-enthusiasm.
I duck my head in shame, hiding behind the hair I washed and straightened so carefully, picking at the sleeve of my hoodie and wishing I hadn’t gotten so worked up, excited and hopeful over the whole thing. I should have remembered; hope always leads to disappointment.
“Sorry I’m late, Miss.” Says a familiar voice from the direction of the doorway.
My heart leaps in excitement, my nerves and anxious, jittery anticipation reborn, as my head snaps up to see Frank standing at the front of class, handing Mrs. Evans a late slip.
My heart’s thumping wildly in my chest as I gaze at the real form of the person I’ve been thinking, dreaming about all night, all morning.
Mrs. Evans signs the slip, sighs and hands it back to him so he can slouch over to my desk and sit down beside me.
“Hi.” I whisper as Mrs. Evans carries on with the lesson, turning to look at him.
My stomach drops, but not in the way I was expecting.
Frank looks terrible, like he hasn’t slept in a month; his chestnut brown hair dull, scruffy and un-brushed, his eyes swollen and bloodshot, shadowed by deep purple bags, his eyeliner smudged, his nails bitten down to the quick, his The Misfits hoodie inside-out and his expression troubled. However, despite all this, he still manages to look utterly adorable, but I can’t help feeling worried- there must be something pretty serious bothering him for him to look as sleep deprived and anxious as he does.
“Hey.” He mumbles, staring at the desk.
“You, um, okay?” I say a little shyly, blushing.
How much more like a clichéd, love sick teenager can I become?!
But you ARE a clichéd, love sick teenager, says the irritating little voice at the back of my head.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know I am!” I roll my eyes at it. “I know I’m crazy!”
“Ummm…what?” Frank is looking confusedly at me, not to mention the rest of the class and Mrs. Evans, who are all staring at me like I’m some kind of freak.
Shit, was I actually talking out loud to myself?!
“Umm…” I mutter, ducking my head as Mrs. Evans rolls her eyes and returns to teaching the class.
“Sorry!” I whisper to Frank. “I really am crazy…”
“Who said it was a bad thing to be crazy?” His mouth twitches up into a ghost of his usual cheeky, lopsided grin.
I chuckle softly and smile, glad he doesn’t appear to think I need the kind of help involving strong medicines and professional physcologists.
“Are you okay?” I ask again tentatively, eyeing his bloodshot eyes, defeated expression and inside-out hoodie.
“Yep.” Frank says, picking at the fraying hem of his hoodie.
“…sure?” I ask, not wanting to pry, but genuinely worried about him.
Frank nods, biting his lip and keeping his eyes on the tabletop.
“Right class, experiment time!” Mrs. Evans calls and I drag my eyes away from Frank’s pitiful appearance in utter horror. “Bunsen burners, measuring beakers and everything else you’ll need is over on the side bench. You have twenty five minutes. GO!”
I sigh and get up unenthusiastically, hoping sincerely that by the end of the lesson, both of Frank’s eyebrows will still be intact.
What do you think?? Pleeeeease rate as well as review and I’ll love you for it! So yeah, please tell me what you honestly thought of this one cause I worked on it for most of the day, even though I had a ton of homework! And I might be wrong, but the reviews kinda seem to be dwindling…so please let me know what you think xD The more R&Rs, the sooner I’ll try and update :)
Love yoooou all!