Bee's giggling fits, Frank's phone number, and Gerard's maths book...
Gerard’s point of view:
The second the bell goes at the end of the day, I’m out of my seat like a shot, hurtling from the claustrophobic, stuffy maths classroom faster than a bullet from a gun, eager to escape the wrath of Mr. Jones, but being careful to accidentally-on-purpose knock all the papers off his desk on my way out.
“Mr. Way!” he hollers. “Mr. WAY! Get back here NOW!!”
In my haste to reach the lockers and escape a very angry maths teacher brandishing a protractor, I accidentally knock into Aled Hutchings, earning a deadly venom-filled death glare, but thankfully, I’m zooming off down the bustling, crowded corridor before he can get me.
I reach my locker and I punch in the combination, suppressing a smile.
Despite gaining a double detention from my head teacher, who apparently doesn’t share my view that a Murderdolls hoodie is suitable school attire, a well aimed elbow in the lunch queue from the dickhead that is Aled Hutchings, and the joys of double maths last lesson, I’m actually in a good mood.
I really think Cat is right…who AM I and what have I done with the old depressing, pessimistic negative-minded Gerard Way?!
Instead of letting all the bad things get me down, I’ve let all the good things cheer me up;
I managed not to burn down the Biology lab during the experiment this morning, I didn’t get caught skiving, and most importantly, I actually hung out with Frank Iero.
After the slightly awkward moment where I thought he was going to choke and die on the Halloween sweet I’d given him, we had an awesome time, laughing, messing about, skiving; talking about everything from music to meese (ha! NOT mooses!).
Just that alone has been enough to keep me smiling all day; his adorable chuckle, the way he nibbles his lower lip and fiddles with his lip ring, his big, heavy lidded, spiky lashed, intensely russety eyes, his love for music, his innocence…okay, I could go on for days here.
I think I actually scared most of my teachers today- apart form being the new freakishly and unnaturally clean Gerard with gasp different clothes, which was scary enough, I became the disturbingly cheerful, smiling, freakishly and unnaturally clean Gerard with gasp different clothes.
I think Mr. Jones practically had a heat attack when I strolled into maths, on time, with clean, brushed and straightened hair, a freshly washed and ironed hoodie, and a smile, humming ‘Better Things’ by The Bouncing Souls.
Unfortunately, he recovered enough to set us a torturous fractions test.
“Boo.” Someone says, very softly, very close behind me, warm breath tickling my neck, sending goose bumps everywhere and making my heart race.
I jump and whirl round, dropping my books.
I find myself gazing into a pair of gorgeous, sparkling, russety green eyes, tiny flecks of chestnut speckled round the rim of the iris.
Frank Iero is standing right behind me, grinning mischievously.
“Hey.” He grins.
I literally feel my knees weaken.
He looks a totally different person from the one who stumbled late into Biology this morning, hoodie inside-out, hair scruffy and unwashed, skin ghostly, eyes red, raw and sleep-deprived, brimming with raw, bittersweet frustration.
He looks a world apart form that now, a world apart from the silent, defeated, ghost-like Frank I usually see trailing along behind Aled’s gang.
He’s standing in front of me, grinning lopsidedly, hands shoved casually in the pockets of his black skinnies, eyes wide, bright and shining. He looks alive. Wonderfully, beautifully alive.
I suddenly realise I’ve just been gazing into the shimmering, emerald and russet swirling depth of his entrancing eyes for god knows how long.
“H-hi.” I smile breathlessly, still not able to drag my eyes away from his irresistible physique; the way his Misfits hoodie hugs his slim, yet muscular back, his black skinnies cling to his slender legs.
I cough awkwardly, finally breaking my gaze and stoop to pick up my fallen textbooks.
“Here, let me- I’m sorry I made you jump.” Frank says, bending down too.
Our fingers brush slightly as we both reach for my tattered maths book; calloused, guitar player’s fingers, warm and soft against spidery, artist’s fingers, long, delicately white and smooth, both with bitten down, scabby nails.
Sparks of electricity ignite up and down my spine and my stomach lurches.
“S-I-sorry..” I stutter, feeling the heat creeping up my cheeks.
Seriously, since when did I become a twelve year old school girl with a pathetic crush?!
You are…, the voice in the back of my head says irritatingly.
Shut up, okay? Or I’ll start talking out loud to you again!
I am you, idiot.
Then why are you so fucking annoying?!
Just as I’m about to kill the voice in my head, someone interrupts me.
“Hey Frank. Hey Gerard.” Bee’s come up and is standing, observing Frank and I; Frank clutching my maths book, and me blushing like a sunburnt beetroot with anger management issues. She looks amused, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, but she’s biting it back, hiding the silent amusement in her chocolate brown eyes with a sweep of her reddish brown fringe.
“Uh…hi..” Frank mumbles, looking up and thrusting my books back at me.
Our fingers brush together again, and yet another bolt of electricity zaps through me, heart thumping at the simple, brief touch.
Frank jumps slightly and hides behind his fringe, while Bee looks like she’s having serious problems holding back a fit of the giggles.
There’s silence, and she opens up her locker, head disappearing behind the door.
A couple of seconds later, I can see her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
“Y-yeah?” Bee replies, emerging from her locker and smoothing her features into an innocent expression.
“Mhm.” Bee grins.
“Oh…you hanging out with us again today?” I ask, slightly bemused.
“Sure.” She smiles. “Thanks. You coming, Frank?”
“Oh…” Frank sighs. “really sorry but I can’t – I’ve got a guitar lesson/”
I try hard to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in my chest.
“Oh, okay…maybe some other time?” I ask hopefully, hoping I don’t look too eager.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be great!” Frank says enthusiastically. “Hey, do you want my number> we’ll need to meet sometime about that stupid Biology thing anyway.”
“Ummm…yeah, sure.” I say, trying (and probably failing) to stop a humungous grin taking over my face, as Bee manages to pass off a giggle as a sort of odd cough.
“Hold on then.” Frank says, rummaging in his school bag for a moment, then drawing out a biro with a chewed lid.
He tentatively takes my hand with his, and my heart rate increases tenfold, as he gently writes out the numbers on my palm, biting his lip in concentration and looking unbelievably adorable.
My mind’s whirling…I can’t think straight…he’s so close, overwhelmingly close…I can smell cinnamon shampoo, guitar strings and peanut butter…see the tiny freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose…the tiny chestnut flecks in his iris…the smoothness of his cheeks…the chestnut brown roots of his hair seeping into the back in soft waves amongst the choppy ebony.
“Your hair is really gorge- really, um, cool.” I catch myself quickly, blushing furiously, hand burning where he’s touching me, the nib of the biro leaving tingles along with the fresh ink of the soft skin of my palm.
Bee ducks behind her locker door again.
“Thanks.” Frank looks up, cheeks faintly pink, and smiles, putting his pen away. “There you go- just text me or something so I’ve got your number too, yeah?”
“O-okay…” I stutter, mind still blurred and whirling, hand still tingling, heart still thumping wildly from the proximity.
“I gotta go, but um…text me, yeah?” Frank looks up hopefully at me, all wide, innocent russety eyes and eager expression.
“…Uhh…” I melt, feeling my knees weaken again.
Bee, who had momentarily resurfaced from her locker, ducks behind it again, shoulders shaking helplessly.
“See you tomorrow, then.” Frank smiles.
“Bye…Frank…” I say dazedly
Frank throws me one last heart-melting grin, then strolls off toward the doors, where he pauses, waves back at me, and exits the school building.
I watch his retreating figure progress across the yard as I dreamily trace the eleven digit number on my palm.
“Hey guys.” Mikey’s voice says suddenly, making me jump, and Bee bang her head on the locker door.
“Oh…hi Mikes.” I say distractedly.
“Hey.” Bee smiles a little shyly, rubbing her head.
“So…you hanging out with us again today, Bee?” Mikey blushes.
“Yeah, if that’s okay.” Bee says, pulling on her jacket. “Lets go.”
We all wander out onto the yard, the October sun warm on our backs, making the golden leaves that have clustered at the gate rustle softly, almost like whispering in the gentle Autumn breeze that smells of decomposing leaves, rust, and the ghost of summer.
As we venture down the road, I notice that, for once, the sky is a pastel blue, the clouds wispy white, high up and drifting gently across the endless blue, rather than hanging closely around us, grey and damp, blocking out the blue sky overhead and shedding grey teardrops.
“So, Gee,” Mikey says, jerking me out of my daydreams. “You gunna actually tell us why you’re all freakishly smiley and CLEAN today?”
“Fuck off, Mikey.” I scowl, embarrassed.
“Aww, I bet I know…” He smirks infuriatingly.
I glower furiously at him, willing him to shut up.
“Does it have anything to do with a certain someone who- oooh! Look!” Mikey breaks off excitedly, stopping us in front of a CD store that has a sign saying ‘half price on all Anthrax CDs’ in the window. “Pleease can we go in, guys?”
“You go- me and Gerard will wait over there.” Bee says, pointing to a bench on the other side of the street.
“Oh, okay.” Mikey says, looking faintly disappointed, but he bounds into the store moments later, leaving Bee and I to make our way across the road and sit down on the bench, which sits under a gnarled old oak tree, crying crinkled, amber leaves.
There’s a peaceful silence for a few moments, both of us soaking up the late afternoon golden warmth of the October sun, listening to the calming rustle of the leaves above us.
“You really like him, don’t you?” Bee says suddenly, looking straight at me, her chocolate brown eyes serious. “Frank, I mean- it’s so sweet.”
“What? Ummm…I like him as much as, uh, anyone does- he’s a pretty cool guy, y’know?” I mumble, caught off guard, fiddling with the zip of my hoodie and not meeting Bee’s eye.
“You know what I mean.” Bee says softly.
“Wha-Frank-no-I don’t- I-“
“You’re babbling, Gerard.” Bee smiles gently. “What I mean is…” she takes a deep breath and looks me straight in the eye. “Are you gay?”
I stop fiddling with the zip on my hoodie and look up at her. I know, from one look into her dark chocolate eyes that she knows the real answer, the truth, and will see through any lies straight away.
“I-maybe…” I duck my head, blushing. “Okay, okay, I like him a hell of a lot more than I should- it’s so fucking STUPID!” I shout out the last bit, jumping up and viciously kicking my schoolbag, the reality of my crush suddenly catching up with me.
“Because he’s not gay! He’s not a FREAK like me! I’m just this weird, ugly faggot no-one gives a shit about!” I kick my school bag again, harder, frustration welling up inside my chest like lava inside a volcano. I keep on kicking, again, gain, again…hearing my calculator break, my biro snap, my headphones crunch.
“Gee..” Bee tugs on my sleeve. “Please don’t- sit down.”
I sigh, defeated, the anger and self-hatred draining out of me as fast as it arrived.
“It’s okay, Gerard…” Bee sidles closer to me on the bench and slides an arm tentatively round my trembling shoulders. “You can’t help who you fall for- it doesn’t make you a freak, and you know, there are lots of people who care about you, okay?”
All of a sudden, I feel close to tears, touched by her kindness.
“But it’s NOT okay!” everyone’s gunna hate me when they find out.” I’m shaking now, in my attempts to squash the lump that keeps rising in my throat, burning me and making my eyes water.
All my emotions suddenly feel scarily close to the surface, I feel like I could yell and scream until my throat bleeds, cry until the street floods or laugh hysterically; I feel utterly vulnerable and insecure.
“Especially Frank.” I whisper, closing my eyes to stop the hot, salty tears that are scratching at my eyeballs, itching to be shed, escaping.
“He won’t.” Bee says softly. “Don’t worry, okay?” and I’m not going to tell anyone.”
“Don’t worry?!” I growl through my unshed tears, anger suddenly renewed. “I have a fucking crush on my fucking Biology lab partner who’s a fucking GUY!”
“Gerard.” Bee says calmly.
“What?!” I snap, struggling with the overwhelming emotions that are welling in my eyes, brimming, threatening to spill over and trickle down my cheeks.
“Look at me, Gee.”
I look up into Bee’s kind, warm, chestnut brown eyes.
“…He likes you too, I’m sure of it..”
“Trust me.” Bee says seriously, honesty etched across her features.
What do you think? Hope it was okay- like I said sorry if it was totally shitty, but like I said before, I’m finding things hard atm. Please tell me if it is shit though, so I can improve haha! There are probs only about five chapters left after this…O: Pleeeeeeease Rate as well as Review and tell me what bits you liked/ didn’t like, and I’ll post as soon as possible. Love you guys- thanks for being patient and such awesome readers :D
p.s. sorry for any mistakes- I was chucked off the computer before I could check it all over :/
p.p.s if you haven’t already, I’d be really grateful if you could read and review this story I wrote...(frerard obviously xD) I don’t know whether to make it a oneshot or not yet :/ http://www.ficwad.com/story/153416