Misunderstanding Moms, Liars, and nasty surprises...and I'M BACK GUYS!!! :D
Chapter Twenty Four
Gerard's point of view:
Snowflakes...so many snowflakes...twirling..magic...falling faster...faster...a different snowflake...a special one...a beautiful, innocent, pure crystal one...I want it...I need it...I reach out and touch it...it's spinning, dancing...out of reach...fleeing...scared...scared of me...my heart's splintering...a thousand tiny shards of ice...the snowflake's left me...alone...alone......alone-
"Gerard? Gee, wake up!"
Mikey's familiar voice and the scratching sound of my bedroom curtains being drawn drags me from my unconscious symbolism and tantalising dreams, the cold reality of consciousness hitting me like a slap.
"...Unugh..?" I peel back my heavy eyelids and groan as the harsh grey morning light seeping through the grimy window stings my sleep-deprived eyes. I close them again, blocking out the horrible grey brightness and burrowing back into the comforting warmth of my black duvet, in hope of drifting back into a peaceful slumber.
"Gee!" Mikey yanks the duvet off me and I squeal in protest as the cold air attacks my vulnerable, pyjama clad body. "Get up already- we're late!"
"...Huh?" I blink blearily and open my eyes again reluctantly, wincing as the dull harshness of the morning light blinds them, and try to focus my fuzzy vision on the frame of my younger brother, who's standing over my bed, showered and dressed in his usual ripped blue skinnies, Anthrax tee and big black hoodie.
"Get UP!" Mikey prods me with a bony finger.
"..Ngruff.." I moan, rolling over, shivering at the sudden contrast between dark, warm sleep and harsh, cold consciousness. The bleak morning light stumbles over the chaos of my room; the mounds of crumpled clothes and discarded Kerrang! magazines heaped on the dusty carpet, the overflowing desk of half finished artwork, broken charcoal, and brutal or self-pitying sketches, the half a dozen empty coffee mugs scattered across the room, and the untidily stacked CDs looming over the stereo.
The room gives off an air of confusion, stress and frustration, which I guess is hardly surprising seeing as I spent almost all of yesterday locked in it, hating myself, avoiding everyone, and completely dreading the following day. Wait...
Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck FUCK.
It's Monday morning.
Which means school.
Which also means Frank.
Which will almost certainly result in death by embarrassment.
"No...don't wanna...school.." I mumble incoherently, the disastrous events of the weekend percolating my foggy thoughts at an alarming rate, making my chest ache, my pulse panic, my palms sweat as memories of the park, the rain, the painting and...Frank come flooding back, drowning me in raw, conflicting, bittersweet emotions.
"Gee. Get up, yeah?" Mikey prods me again, but more gently this time.
"...Mmfff.." I just want to crawl under my duvet and die, but seeing as Mikey's holding it out of reach, I guess that's not really an option right now.
"Coffee's downstairs." Mikey says persuasively, knowing the only thing that'll drag me from my lair at this ungodly hour.
"S' too early!" I whine, trying to tug my duvet from his hands.
"It's eight, Gee. And if you don't get up now, I'm gunna chuck this duvet and all your art stuff out the window, okay?"
I sigh in defeat and crawl out of bed, shivering, and stumble around my room, scrabbling through the numerous piles of junk on the floor in search of something warm, finally finding an old Iron Maiden hoodie which I pull on over my pyjama top, then a fluffy warm green sock.
“Sexy.” Mikey smirks as I hop around the room, trying to find the other one.
I give him the finger, stomach and thoughts too churned up with doubts, fears and questions to come up with a remotely clever comeback.
“Why is it so fucking cold?!” I mutter crossly, finally locating the second sock and pulling it on.
Mikey points out my bedroom window in explanation, and I wander across the room to peer out of the condensation filmed glass.
Instead of the usual gusty October winds or golden late Autumn sunshine, there’s a thin film or silvery white frost shrouding the street outside, coating the dead amber leaves that are sprinkled across the dewy grass and clustered at the side of the pavement, which has a shimmery layer of frost too, concealing the usual grey griminess and making it look fresh and new and almost magical, as if someone’s sprinkled a light layer of sugar icing over the town. The sky is dull and grey, overcast, gloomy clouds looming over the frosty wonderland.
“C’mon, Gee.” Mikey tugs my arm, jerking me out of my daydreams, and I sigh, dragging my eyes from the window and following him downstairs, teeth chattering violently, stomach a messy knot of nerves, dread and uncertainty, making me feel queasy and shaky…am I really brave enough to turn up at school today?
The kitchen is warm and homely, and there’s a freshly brewed mug of coffee set at my place on the old pine table.
I take a grateful sip of it, letting the comforting warmth of the familiar drink seep through my body, calming my jittery stomach and nervous butterflies.
“Gerard sweetie!” Mom smiles, looking up from her cereal and pushing a strand of her honey blonde hair out of her eyes. “How are you?”
“Mhm..” I mumble through gulps of coffee, as Mom gets up and envelopes me in a tight hug.
The soft scent of her shampoo tickles my nose, horribly similar to the scent of Frank’s shampoo. It tugs at the memory I’ve been trying so hard to keep locked in the tiny black box of thing I want to forget at the back of my mind, and I can’t stop it escaping, filing my thoughts with Saturday evening…the pouring rain, the smell of autumn, the bitterly cold breeze, Frank’s smile, the mended painting, the way he hugged me…hugged me like he really cared…
I force the memory to a halt there, unable to re-live it any further, as to my utter horror, I suddenly feel a lump rising in my throat and I hug Mom harder, trying with all my might not to let the salty tears overflow and spill down my cheeks.
How can I ever face Frank again? After he was so kind to me, so caring, so understanding…and then I wrecked it all, mangling the newly formed, tentative friendship. He’ll probably hate me for life, but that’s what I deserve. To never speak to Frank again, to never laugh with him again, never share sweets with him again, never hang out at the park again, never walk him home in the sunset again, never hug him again…never kiss him again…
My throat tightens further, and two hot, salty tears dribble down my cheek. I swallow furiously, trying to swallow my emotions, and brush the teardrops away viciously.
“Gerard?” Mom says softly, pulling back. “Are you okay?”
“I…No…I don’t feel very well.” I mumble, voice cracking, hiding behind my curtain of tangled hair.
“Oh dear…you do look a little pale.” Mom peers worridly at me.
“Gerard’s always pale, Mom.” Mikey points out, looking disbelievingly at me.
“I feel like shit.” I say truthfully, ignoring Mikey.
I kinda expect her to have a go at me for swearing, but instead, she just sighs, slides an arm round my shoulders. “Is everything okay, Gerard? You haven’t been yourself lately, sweetie.”
The lump in my throat burns again, and I nod my head wordlessly, not daring to speak or look up in fear of bursting into tears all over my Mom- something I haven’t done since I was ten.
Suddenly the phone rings, shattering the silence that hangs over the kitchen and making us all jump.
“Hello?” Mikey says into the receiver. “Oh, hi. Yeah, I’m good thanks…hold on a sec.” he holds the phone out to me. “It’s for you.”
My stomach drops, pulse panicking again, all the thoughts I’ve spent the last several minutes trying to block out in favour of my tear-ducts come gushing back, ripping and gnawing at my already fragile chest; what if it’s…Frank? What if he’s calling to yell at me and tell me how much he hates me? What if he’s set Aled and his gang on me? What if-
“Gee.” Mikey rolls his eyes at me, obviously sensing my panic. “Chill. It’s Bee, okay?”
I take a deep, shuddering breath of relief and take the phone from Mikey with trembly hands.
“Hi Gerard, you okay?”
“You sound kinda…funny?”
“Well…I’ve been better.”
“Do you want me to walk you to school?”
“I…I don’t think I’m going, sorry Bee.”
“Gerard.” I hear her sigh. “I know it’s not exactly gunna be easy, but you have to do it sometime. And anyway, umm…Frank just-uh-texted me to say he’s not gunna be in school today. Please promise to come in? apart from anything else, I don’t wanna be a loner in English!”
“He’s not gunna be there?” I repeat shakily.
“Okay, fine.” I agree.
“Great!” I can almost hear the smile in Bee’s voice. “See you later then.”
“Yeah, Bye bee.” I put the phone down, feeling slightly calmer, but also slightly disappointed. I guess even though I was totally dreading have to face Frank again, there was a tiny part of me that was looking forward to seeing him.
“Uh…Mom?” I start, fiddling with the zip on my hoodie. “I…I-uh- think I’m feeling better now.”
Beside her, Mikey rolls his eyes so much I’m surprised they don’t disappear permanently into his skull.
“Sure?” Mom looks concerned.
I nod, not meeting her eyes. “I’m gunna go get ready now.”
“Gerard?” Mom says as I take one last gulp of coffee, ready to go upstairs. “I know things with girls can be difficult sometimes, but don’t worry- I’m sure things will work out with you and Bee sooner or later. She seems like a lovely girl- just your type.”
I choke on my coffee, spitting it all over the table as Mikey splutters and turns an interesting colour that’s halfway between puce and scarlet.
Oh, if only Mom really knew…
Twenty minutes later, Mikey and I have set off down the road to school, shivering; the early morning air is crisp and cold, and I huddle into the warmth of my hoodie as we slouch down the frosty street, the icy breeze bitter and biting, stinging my cheeks pink with cold. The sun has started to shyly peek through the icy grey clouds, weak and watery, making our shadows long and spindly in the sunrise, and making the frost sprinkled pavement sparkle in the pale golden light.
We walk in silence, breath smoky in the freezing air, Mikey re-reading the notes in his chemistry jotter in preparation for a test, me plugged into my ipod.
We pass the park, rusty, Autumnally golden, frosty and deserted, and a wave of sadness washes over me, as against my will, memories of Frank and I laughing and talking and hanging out on the swings fill my skull. I can almost smell the mouldy, decomposing leaves, the rusty, metal chains of the swings, the happiness that swirled around us, the Haribo Halloween mix, and the mingling scents of guitar strings, cinnamon and caramel that drifted off Frank. It was the start of such a wonderful friendship, one that could have lasted forever, one where you share hopes and dreams, fears and secrets, one where you’re on the same wavelength, totally understanding and caring about the other, like there’s just some kind of connection that binds you together.
It was everything I ever wanted, and now it’s jus gone.
I sigh, tortured, my chest heavy with regret, cursing my stupid impulsiveness of the hundredth time since Saturday night.
We walk under the deciduous trees by the gate, only now a few russety leaves clinging to the spindly branches overhead, and suddenly, I notice a small figure slumped on one of the sings, arm hooked round the rusty chain, schoolbag at their feet, staring at the frosty, leaf-strewn ground.
My heart jolts and starts hammering wildly in my chest, all the writhing nerves and fears and dread reborn with even more velocity; it looks like…Frank. But it can’t be- Bee said he wasn’t coming to school.
I shake off my gut feeling, try to ignore my panicked pulse and squirming stomach, and trudge on behind Mikey, towards the gates of hell, music up so loud it drowns out the thoughts I don’t want to think.
The school corridor is stiflingly hot after the icy breeze of the yard, students bustling up down the corridors, laughing and chattering, filling the main corridor and the lockers to the brim, accompanied by the combined scents of cheap aftershave, school dinners, trainers and hairspray. Mikey and I force our way through the crowds and into one of the quieter side corridors, where we spot Bee right at the end, perched on one of the old-fashioned radiators, huddled into her Slipknot hoodie.
I smile in her direction and Mikey waves shamelessly enthusiastically.
“Just ask her out already Mikes.” I sigh.
Mikey stops, looking terrified. “What? I’m not gunna ask her out!”
I roll my eyes. “Why not?”
“She…she’d never go out with me!” Mikey protests.
I raise my eyebrows.
“She wouldn’t!” Mikey squeaks as we slouch towards Bee’s radiator.
“Oh grow a set, Mikes!” I say, frustrated . I mean, seriously, when two people so obviously like each other, the should just get the guts and make a move- they should be happy they’ve found someone and make the most of it, rather than stressing over it all and never knowing.
“YOU’RE telling me to grow a set?!” Mikey says incredulously.
Unfortunately, my oh-so-witty response is drowned out by the loud blare of the bell to signal registration.
Mikey and I groan simultaneously and Bee hops off the radiator and skips over to us.
“Hey Gerard!” She grins. “Glad you made it! Hey Mikey, how’s it going?”
Mikey mutters something intelligible and promptly turns redder than an over-ripe tomato.
“Well, we’ve already got six hours at this delightful place, and I don’t particularly want to get a detention and earn another, so lets go to reg, yeah?” Bee sighs, pulling on her schoolbag as we wave goodbye to a bright pink Mikey and set off down the corridor.
Everyone looks the same, jocks, geeks, sluts all blending into the stereotypical school crowd, then suddenly, someone all too familiar catches my eye, head bowed, biting their lip.
Big, heavy-lidded innocent greeny russet eyes.
A scruffy Misfits hoodie and a silver lip ring.
“Oh. My. GOD.” I gasp, suddenly unable to breathe. “Bee!” I panic, legs feeling jelly-like, thoughts making me dizzy.
“Just calm down- don’t freak out and he won’t notice you.” Bee whispers, sliding her arm through mine for support.
Heart pounding right out of my chest, I walk shakily along beside Bee, feeling as thought my legs are about to give way, hiding behind by midnight hair, focusing my gaze on the grubby floor.
When Frank passes us though, I can’t resist peeking through my hair at him…
He’s doing exactly the same, peeking nervously out from behind his fringe, eyes darting anxiously around, biting his lip apprehensively.
Our eyes linger on each other’s for a moment, and my stomach, my chest, and my thoughts o crazy, not to mention my pulse and the fact that if Bee wasn’t holding me up, my legs would have definitely given way.
He gives a kind of nervous, uncertain, tentative half-smile, goes pink and ducks behind his hair again, scuttling off down the corridor and tripping slightly on his trailing converse laces.
My stomach is twirling and twisting and I feel light headed, faint and shaky with relief… he didn’t look like he hates my guts…
“Gerard?” bee cuts through my whirlwind of thoughts.
“I-I thought you said Frank wasn’t in school!” I choke out.
Bee hangs her head, suddenly looking guilty. “I lied…”
I gape at her. “What?!”
“I- I lied to get you to come into school…I wanted to show you that Frank doesn’t hate you. I’m sorry I lied, Gerard, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
I’m so surprised that Bee actually did that, I don’t know what to say. “O-oh.”
“But see, I told you he didn’t hate you, didn’t I?”
I ignore this, not wanting to even think about getting hopeful- if I do, everything will just come crashing down and hurt even more, it’ll destroy what’s left of my chest completely.
“…A-As long as I don’t have any lessons with him.” I mumble, still feeling faint, fishing out my timetable to check.
Period One- Biology- Room12.
Oh. My. God.
I’m going to DIE.
Was it okay? I hope so…I worked hard on this, so I’d like to know what you think- good enough to keep going? If it’s not, please say… Let me know and please R&R- the more I get, the sooner I’ll update :) thanks for reading and being patient waiting for this- I love you guys!!