suspicious maths teachers, tactless Mikeys and pink skied sunsets....
sorry if it sucks- I’ve been feeling really down lately, and I was struggling with writing a bit- if it hadn’t been for all the amazing reviews, this would have taken a hell of a lot longer. Anyway, hope you enjoy and please please R&R to let me know your thoughts on this craziness! xD enjoy :D
If you’re interested in auditioning to be Frank’s best friend in my new story, here’s the link :) http://www.ficwad.com/story/155211
Frank’s point of view:
For what’s possibly the first time during my entire school career, the second the bell goes at the end of the day, I’m not scrambling for the door, desperate to escape the school building and it’s many horrors; instead, I hang back, packing up my pencil case, maths book and calculator deliberately slowly, waiting for the remainder of my fellow peers to push and shove their way out of the boring, stuffy confinements of MATHS7, before wandering at a pace even a snail could beat towards the doorway, earning a puzzled, slightly suspicious look from Mr. Jones. Don’t get me wrong- I’m as eager to leave Mr. Jones, algebra, and boredom so boring it’s life endangering as the rest of the class, but for once, I want to be the last one out.
I used to try and escape school before Aled could get me, or at the very least try to mingle and blend into the swarming mass of students so he wouldn’t notice me, but now I don’t care about him. I’m not scared of him anymore - earlier today, just before last period, we passed each other in the corridor and he just shuffled past quickly, not meeting my eye. No, today, my motives are different. In all honesty, I don’t want anyone to see me while I carry out my plan, a plan that’s been niggling at the back of my mind all day, as has the guilt that I feel toward Gerard- if it hadn’t been for me, Aled wouldn’t have ruined his painting. I have to do something.
I peep out into the corridor and sigh; seas of students are spilling out of classrooms from every direction, seeping into the tide of chattering, laughing teenagers that flood the main corridor.
I duck back into MATHS7, earning an even more suspicious glance from Mr. Jones.
“…Forgot my-uh-pencil.” I lie hurriedly in reply to his questioning raised eyebrow.
After five minutes of elaborate fake pencil searching, I peek back out at the corridor.
It’s much quieter now, just a few random stragglers scurrying along in the direction of the lockers. It should be safe now.
“Iero!” Mr, Jones snarls before I can put one toe outside the boundary of the classroom.
I turn round reluctantly. “Yes sir?”
“Anything I can help you with?” he asks, cold eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“No, nothing thanks sir.” I say brightly, stepping out into the now empty corridor before he can give me extra homework.
It’s totally deserted by this point; all students have fled from maths equations, English essays, foul school dinners, and endless assemblies for tow days of freedom.
My scruffy converse squeak all the way along the corridor, echoing loudly off the polished floor and making me slightly uneasy.
I reach the end of the corridor, but instead of turning towards the lockers to meet Gerard as we’d arranged, I change course and hurry along towards the Art block, passing no one but a cleaner in the maze of silent, empty corridors. The warm, late afternoon golden sunlight illuminates the staircase leading to the art room, the now peaceful October sky shining through the grimy windows as I ascend the endless stairs for what feels like the hundredth time today.
However, not even the calming warmth of the golden sun on my back can melt the icy shards of guilt lodged and splintering in my chest; all day I’ve been unable to rid my mind of the images of Gerard’s beautiful painting, the Gerard’s ruined painting, then the horrible, heart-wrenching hurt in his greeny-hazel eyes…all day I’ve been unable to rid myself of the distressing, nagging thoughts that tug at my insides like barbed wire, reminding me that it’s my fault,
My fault Gerard’s painting is wrecked.
My fault Gerard got hurt.
My fault, because Aled turned on him, just to get to me.
My fault, because if I’d stood up to Aled sooner, this would never have happened.
My fault. My fault. My fault.
I’m standing outside the art room now. I take a deep breath and turn the door handle, the door creaking on it’s hinges as I step cautiously inside.
Clearly, the art teacher was as eager as the students to escape school for the weekend.
I glance behind me to make sure there are no resounding footsteps echoing up the stairs, no shadow looming round the corner, as I’m sure it’s against school rules to be up here after the bell without permission. Luckily, there seems to be no one approaching, so I step gingerly into the art room, scanning it for Gerard’s painting.
It’s not on the floor where I saw it last, it’s not on the side bench with all the other entries…
My gaze sweeps the room and suddenly, something catches my eye.
There’s a canvas in the bin.
I dash forwards, almost colliding with the teacher’s desk in my hurry to rescue it. The thick canvas is undamaged, apart from the three brutal puncture marks stabbed right through it and vicious slashes on the surface.
I pick it up carefully, gently, fingers tentatively caressing it’s injuries. Even with all this, it’s still the most amazing painting I’ve ever seen- the intricate detail, the talented shading, the beautiful, creative, morbid imagination.
Guilt slashes and puncture my chest just like those on the skin of the canvas; it wasn’t Aled who ruined this…it was me.
If only I’d had the guts to stand up to the guy who made my life a living hell months, years ago, if only I’d told him what I really thought of him in the first place, I’d never ended up unintentionally hurting the person who’s helped me be me again, who’s made me fell happy, accepted, happy, alive.
It might be stupid, it might be unrealistic, or even just plain crazy, but right now, I don’t care- I’m going to fix this, whatever it takes.
The beginnings of hope start to bubble inside me as I stroke my hand over the torn canvas, imagining Gerard’s face when I return the mended painting to him, the shining happiness in those startling, unique eyes, that crooked grin-
My phone vibrates suddenly in my pocket, making me jump out of my skin and jolt back into reality, almost dropping the painting.
I set it down carefully on the desk behind me and fish out my phone.
*1 NEW MSG: 07762438876
Hey, it’s Gerard…where r u?? *
Shit. I quickly text a reply saying I’m on my way, add Gerard’s number to my contacts, and just as I’m picking the painting up again, my phone buzzes in reply.
*1 NEW MSG: GERARD
Kk, we’re in the park. See you soon :)*
I text a quick ‘see you soon’, shove my phone back in my pocket, grab the painting, stuff it into my school bag and exit the art room.
I’m hurrying across the leaf-strewn street, the damp concrete pavement shimmering faintly in the balmy golden sunlight when I spot Gerard’s familiar slender figure sitting on the wall of the park, under the ancient, gnarled old oak tree that’s raining russet and ochre crinkly leaves. He has his back to me, midnight hair ruffled slightly in the gentle breeze, and I can see Bee and Gerard’s younger brother, Mikey, sitting on the bench beside the tree, both listening to Gerard intently, their eyes wide.
My stomach performs an uncomfortable twisty manoeuvre I thought was only possible for double-jointed ballerinas on speed, as crunch my way through the amber leaves littering the dying grass, the canvas in my bag suddenly weighing a ton, and the guilt that had faded slightly after retrieving Gerard’s painting suddenly gnawing at my innards once more as I approach them.
“Umm…Hey.” I mumble a little uncertainly, sitting down on the wall beside Gerard .
He turns round, and despite the obvious hurt in his greeny-hazel eyes, he smiles at me- a proper smile that lights up his eyes, eclipsing the hurt in them, as if he’s actually pleased to see me.
“Hey.” He says softly, tucking a strand of raven hair behind his left ear.
“Hi Frank.” Mikey smiles politely.
“Hey, where were you?” Bee asks.
“Umm…I…uh…Mr. Jones wanted to talk to me- he kept me behind after-uh-class..” I lie, not meeting Bee’s all too knowing eyes; I don’t want Gerard to know what I’ve done just yet in case he thinks I’m unrealistic or stupid or just plain crazy…none of which he’d be wrong about.
“What’s in the bag?” Gerard cuts in suddenly, looking curiously at my bulging school bag.
“Um…just…project stuff…” I mumble, hiding behind my scruffy dyed-black fringe. “So…what have you guys been up to?” I add quickly, eager to change the subject.
“Gerard was just telling us about the painting.” Bee says sadly.
I glance at Gerard, who’s ducking his head and bravely nibbling his lower lip.
“Oh.” is my response. I have a sudden urge to slide my arms round his vulnerable frame and hug the hurt away, but I don’t, mainly because I’m starting to get just ever so slightly freaked out by my own thoughts.
“I can’t believe you punched Aled Hutchings!” Mikey exclaims, shaking his head in disbelief.
“It was really brave!” Bee agrees, wide-eyed.
“It wasn’t really- I didn’t think about it at all- I was just so, so fucking angry at him for what he’s done to Gerard…I don’t know what came over me.” I admit slightly sheepishly.
“No it was amazing, sticking up for me- and you- like that, Frank.” Gerard disagrees, shaking his head. “Thank you.” He adds, softly, smiling up at me from behind his dishevelled ebony hair, his eyes full of warmth and sincerity, and suddenly my chest feels all weird and melty.
“Thanks, but if I’d just stood up to him sooner, none of this would have happened. I’m sorry.” I hang my head.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Gerard snaps, and suddenly, he sounds angry. “It’s NOT your fault- Aled Hutchings is an insecure dickhead who’s hated me since our first day of school. It’s in no way your fault he decided to ruin my artwork, and anyway, that’s not the most important thing, okay?” Gerard’s looking determinedly, sincerely at me, his swirling jade and hazel eyes full of honesty.
“What did you do with the painting anyway, Gee?” Mikey cuts in before I can argue back.
Gerard’s sigh sounds tortured. “I chucked it in the bin last period during Art.”
“Why?!” Mikey gapes.
“It was wrecked…even if it could be fixed, I don’t think I could bring myself to do it.” Gerard hangs his head sadly. I slide a tentative arm round his skinny shoulders and shuffle closer against the warmth of his body, inhaling the almost reassuring mingled scents of Gerard.
“I know it sucks Gee,” Mikey says sympathetically. “but if you don’t cheer up soon, you’re gunna make me cry, so lets go get some sweets and get hyper, yeah?”
Bee rolls her eyes, but Gerard chuckles weakly. “Thanks Mikes. I can always count on you to be tactful.”
Mikey smiles for a moment, then stops, surveying Gerard suspiciously. “Are you being sarcastic?”
“You know me, I’m never sarcastic.”
“You’re just proving my point!”
“That you’re sarcastic!”
“Mikes, I’m the least sarcastic person alive.”
Bee grins and rolls her eyes at me. “Wanna go but some sweets? They could be w while…”
“Sure.” I smile, sliding off the wall.
“Guys, we’ll be back in a minute, yeah? We’re going to go buy some sweets.” Bee says loudly over Gerard and Mikey’s mindless bickering.
They don’t reply, but Bee and I just set off anyway, smiling and shaking our heads as we hear a distinct “IT’S MOOSI, YOU MORON!” in the distance.
“So where were you really then, Frank?” Bee asks suddenly as we raid the sweet aisle in the corner shop opposite the park.
“Umm…I told you..” I say, slightly unnerved, dropping the bag of Haribo Halloween Horror Mix I was holding.
“I’m not stupid, Frank.” Bee rolls her eyes. “And you’re a shit liar.” She adds matter-off-factly, picking up a bag of ‘fizzy fangs.’
“Oh.” I say, taken aback and ever so slightly scared.
“So where were you?” Bee presses, her chocolate-brown eyes boring into me.
“I…in the Art room..” I admit, ducking my head.
“I was…well I…uhh…”
Bee raises her eyebrows sceptically.
“okay, okay, I took Gerard’s painting!” I blurt out.
Bee stops reading the ingredients on a packet of pink marshmallows and looks up. “Really?”
“Yeah…” I sigh. “I felt really bad about Aled ruining it and upsetting Gerard, and I feel it’s kinda my fault, so I wanted to see if I could…maybe…uh…fix it..” I blush at the last bit, feeling idiotic.
Bee says nothing for a moment, putting the marshmallows back on the shelf and exchanging them for a bag of skittles.
“You…you aren’t mad at me, are you?” I ask uncertainly.
Bee smiles warmly at me. “Mad? Of course I’m not- that’s such a sweet thing to do.”
I narrow my eyes. “…sweet?”
“Yeah. Very sweet.” Bee grins.
Half an hour later, we’re all sitting in the park, considerably sugar-high, devouring skittles, Haribo Fangtastics and Halloween Mix, playing twenty questions in attempt to take Gerard’s mind off certain paintings and insecure dickheads by the name of Aled Hutchings.
“Okay, the top two bands you’d like to see live?” Mikey asks, popping a fizzy monster into his mouth.
“The Misfits!” Gerard and I say simultaneously, then burst out laughing.
Mikey rolls his eyes. “okay, okay, we all know what Misfits freaks you two are…or just plain freaks…” he adds, grinning teasingly at Gerard who throws a fizzy spider in his direction.
“Oww!” Mikey yelps, rubbing his nose as Gerard smirks.
“I’d love to see Rancid.” Bee cuts in before Mikey throws his open bottle of coke over Gerard in retaliation.
“Yeah, me too.” Mikey smiles at her, seemingly distracted from revenge.
“I really want to see Green Day actually.” I say, chewing a pair of fizzy vampire fangs.
“Me too.” Gerard agrees, taking a sip of coke.
“Yeah, I bet you would.” Mikey smirks knowingly at his elder brother.
Gerard chokes and splutters, turning red as Bee giggles.
“…Huh?” I ask, confused, feeling as though I’m missing something.
“Well, Gee certainly would get very EXCIETED about seeing-” Mikey is cut off as Gerard empties the bag of skittles over his brother’s head.
I look questioningly at Bee, baffled, but she just shakes her head wordlessly at me through her giggles.
After Mikey has chased Gerard round the park, brandishing his bottle of coke, Bee and I have managed to eat all the skittles up off the ground, we’ve played another (ridiculous) round of twenty questions, the sun has started to set low in the pink-streaked sky and the previously warm balmy breeze has become chilly, I decide it might be a good time to make my way home, at least, if I don’t want to be brutally murdered by my own mother.
“Umm…guys?” I say tentatively, cutting through Mikey’s endless answer to why he wishes he had a sister rather than a brother.
“Then again, maybe Gerard isn’t that different to a girl, I mean, he wears make up and I’m pretty sure he likes g-“
“Guys?” I say more loudly. “I’m sorry but I think I’d better get going or my Mom will make sure I never see the light of day again.”
“I’ll walk with you.” Gerard says, getting up and pulling on his stripy zip-up hoodie.
“No, don’t worry I’ll be fine.” I say politely.
“Honestly, I don’t mind.” Gerard smiles, and sure enough, I end up walking home along the endless, leaf-strewn streets with him, the golden sunset warm on our backs, the sky pink and peaceful above us, talking about anything and everything.
We reach my house all-too soon.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” I smile, stopping just outside my garden gate.
“Yeah.” Gerard smiles warmly, his hazely eyes almost as golden as the setting sun.
“Thanks for walking me home and…I really am sorry about the painting.” I say honestly.
Gerard sighs. “Again, it’s really not you’re fault, okay?”
“But if I hadn’t hung out with you, Aled wouldn’t have done this.”
“Frank.” Gerard is smiling softly now, the almost amber sunlight bouncing off his ebony hair, giving it an almost blue sheen, similar to a raven’s feathers. “Some things are a million times more important than my stupid painting.” He smiles a little sheepishly and ducks his head slightly. “See you tomorrow, Frank.”
“See you, Gerard.” I echo as he smiles his signature crooked grin and turns down the street and I start walking reluctantly up my garden path.
Once I’ve dumped my shoes in the hallway, I dash upstairs and rush to the window seat, sitting down and gazing out at the golden street where I can see Gerard walking dreamily towards the horizon, hands shoved casually in the pockets of his scruffy black skinnies, his school shirt clinging to his slim frame, the sleeves rolled up, exposing his slim chalk white forearms, his stripy black and white hoodie slung over his shoulder as his hair, black as the night, flows out behind him, tiny tendrils, like millions of midnight wishes.
So what do you think? Hope it was okay…I feel it was kinda shit, but that might just be because I feel so shit atm :/ anyway, hope it wasn’t too bad! Like I said, it was kinda a filler, but I think the next chapter you’ve all been waiting for….and I think you’ll like it a loooot :P please R&R- the more reviews, the sooner I’ll post the next chapter :) thanks for reading! Love you guys- you really are the best readers ever- you always put a smile on my face :D