The morning before school. We get to know both the boys a bit better.
Did I ever mention I'm not good with mornings? I hate them. Usually because I'm hung over, or still drunk from the previous night. The first morning I woke up in my uncle's house was not pleasant, although admittedly I was niether.
It was barely seven in the morning when Frank's music began blaring again. I groaned and rolled over in my bed, burying myself under the sheets in a vain attempt to blot out the sound of some of the heaviest screamo I had ever heard. Who listens to that in the morning? It just didn't work. You had to at least have five coffees before it becomes acceptable. Six, before it becomes good.
I snuggle down into the covers, managing to snatch another few minutes of sleep before feeling a sudden pain in my midriff. I try to move and dislodge whatever had landed on me, but God, it was heavy. I peel the duvet off my head and lean round to see Frank sitting on me, grinning obnoxiously.
"Whadd'ya want?" I yawn.
"You!" He grinned back, looking annoyingly cheerful. I tried to ignore the feeling his words gave me.
"Piss off..." I murmured, lying back down.
"Awww! That's not very nice! Don't be mean to poor Frankie!" He pouted at me. How can anyone have that much energy this early! There is something wrong with me.
I lay down again and sighed in relief when I felt Frank's weight shift; I assumed he was getting off me. Instead he lay down on top of me. I tensed and tried to ignore the way my body was tingling pleasantly. Even feeling his weight through the sheets had an affect on me, once again confirming my fucked-upness.
"Come on, sugar." He whispered in my ear, causing shivers to creep down my spine. "It's time to wake up!" I don't know why but as he said the last part, his voice suddenly sounded evil. Before I had time to wonder over it, Frank's weight disappeared. A second later my world began to slide sideways. I grabbed on to sheets in panic and let a small scream escape my mouth. I continued my downward journey at an alarming rate, pulling the covers off the bed with me and landing with a heavy thump on the hard wooden floor. That was going to leave a bruise.
Still completely disorientated, I winced when I heard a heavy thump as something large landed next to me. A second later I registered laughing and realised what must have happened - Frank had tipped my bed up. I blushed as I realised that I was only wearing boxers due to the stifling Californian heat and tried to pull the blankets around me and regain some of my modesty.
"Oh please!" Frank was still laughing. "Don't cover yourself up on my account!" And he left the room, still laughing.
I gritted my teeth and pulled myself to my feet. My back was sore from where I had landed on it and I felt like shit. At least the adrenaline of falling out of bed had woken me up effectively.
I walked over to the wardrobe which contained my clothes. When Mom had warned me it would be hot over here, I didn't comprehend just how bad it would be. I had been sweating the day before, even thought the majority of my time had been spent indoors. And of course, not realising this (and being used to the shitty NJ weather), I had packed black, black and guess what? More black! I grimaced now at the thought of the sun that would be beating down on me soon enough. As well as being black, skinny jeans did not contribute to staying cool.
In the end, I pulled on a pair of ripped up black skinnies figuring the holes would provide some ventilation. For my top half, I manage to find a low necked black t-shirt. I didn't feel comfortable showing this much skin, but between that or over-heating I'd much prefer to feel slightly self-conscious. I pulled a pair of navy converse on to my feet. Apparently my wardrobe wasn't entirely black.
I grabbed my wash bag and headed into the bathroom I had to share with Frank. I'd nearly walked in on him last night as apparently he had slipped into the habit of not bothering to lock the door. That would have been embarrassing. Infect, I found I was blushing at the thought as I walked in and began to examine my reflection. I had bags under my eyes, but that couldn't be helped. I smudged some eyeliner around my eyes, before stepping back to admire the effect of black around hazel. It looked good.
My hair, however, was a mess. I groaned and grabbed a brush, trying to style it into something that looked vaguely good. However, after working at it for five minutes, it remained messy and I gave up. I ran my hand through it, and effectively returned it to the exact state it had been in before I had bothered to brush it. I groaned again.
I dumped the wash bag in my room before grabbing the big (black) one that would be serving as my school one, and headed downstairs.
Frank was already in the kitchen, eating a slice of heavily buttered toast. The delicious scent of it mingled with that of the coffee which was currently being made. My mouth started to water, even know I'd been stuffed after dinner the previous night. I chewed my lip for a moment, debating whether I needed breakfast or not. I decided probably not, but then I have no self restraint, so I pulled a couple of slices of bread out of the bag next to Frank and popped them in the toaster.
I stood, leaning on the counter when Gerard finally came down. I couldn't help but smirk slightly when I thought of his face as I'd tipped him out of bed. With his black hair flopped across his face, and his pale body covered with nada but boxers, the kid looked adorable. Pissed off, but that made him even cuter.
I didn't bother move when he reached around me for the bread, or bother tell him he had ten minutes before we had to leave, otherwise we'd be late. I didn't give two shits 'bout missing school of course, but arriving late would mean missing out on valuable social time. Plus, I had to sort it with one of my mates to drive Gerard into school tomorrow as my texts were informing me that my car and I were needed places other than here tonight. Getting back here before twelve tomorrow was going to be unlikely.
When the coffee maker beeped, signalling it was ready, I reached up for a mug from the cupboard. I could feel my shirt ride up and damned my shortness. But seeming as the bottom of my shirt was already hovering around my midriff, I decided I may as give Gerard a show.
After I'd grabbed the cup and turned, I managed to catch him staring bug-eyed at me. I guessed he'd caught sight of my tatt's. Honestly though, I was being a bit hypocritical. Even though sleep had created dark bags under each of his eyes, Gerard looked hot. His eyes were covered in black smudges, all of which were done extremely artistically. Mine were usually that dark, but done in a completely different, neater style. I preferred his way though. Through the rips on his jeans I could see the perfect paleness of his white legs. The t-shirt he was wearing had a low v-neck, showing just enough to hint at a well formed chest. Gerard's black clothes matched the shade of his hair and made him look paler. Until he blushed of course, and ducked his head in an action that was already familiar to me.
Wordlessly, I passed him one of the two mugs and helped myself to coffee. He mimicked my actions but somehow managed to down four mugs in the time it took me to drink one. That is a lot of fucking coffee. When I next glanced at the clock, it was nearly half-eight - our cue to leave.
"Come on, Gerard!" I said cheerfully. It was the first time I'd vocally addressed him since turfing him out of bed in the morning. I was amused to see him wince. "I'll be driving, obviously - since you don't know the way!" He just nodded. I rolled my eyes, but the coffee had made me (even more) hyper and I never, ever got annoyed when hyper. I grabbed my keys off the counter where I usually dumped them. Really, John would have to give Gerard a set. I was not going to babysit him 24/7.
I led the way to the front of the house, and unlocked the adjoining garage. Mine and John's cars were inside. His was a glossy black one. (how the dude has so much money I'll never know - I mean, he owns a fucking tattoo parlour. Either I was seriously under paid or he dealt drugs in his spare time) Mine was nothing special, it was third hand and a faded red but I wasn't going to complain - it ran which is more than I can say for some. I unlocked the car and climbed in. Gerard hesitated for a moment before climbing in to the passenger seat. I reversed out of the drive way and ran back to the garage to lock up. John would kill me if someone nicked his car. Even if it wasn't my fault.
I got back in the car and began the ten minute drive to the hovel also know as school. Me and Gerard didn't talk. He just stared out the window at the early morning sun that warmed and lit up the town that was my home. I'd lived in New Jersey up until I was thirteen. I'd hated it here at first, but eventually I'd made friends with a bunch of people and I now loved living here. One friend in particular - Phin - made life bearable, and she'd taught me to love all of the little things in life. It sounds down right cheesy but she brought me back to life after... the incident. I grimaced at the memory - I still had scars from that night. And now we were the biggest badasses around. I'd been beaten up almost continually for any reason anyone could find. Now no one in their right minds would mess with me. That was all thanks to Phin.
After a bit, the silence between me and Gerard became awkward. It was at this point I turned the radio on. Well the CDs I had in my car. I relaxed as the slashing sound of Iron Maiden filtered through the speakers. I glanced at the guy next to me and saw, to my surprise, he was nodding in time to the music.
"You like Maiden?" I shot at him. Gerard stared at me for a moment, his eyes wide. Then he nodded. I raised my eyebrows at him. I swear the kid hadn't muttered a word since yesterday. Apart from telling me to piss off. What the fuck was his problem? "What's your favourite song?" I shot at him.
He just stared for a moment. "'Can I Play With Madness?' is really good." He said at last. I expected him to whisper it for some reason - maybe his shyness? - so it surprised me when he answered in a normal voice.
I nodded in approval. "Yeah, it's a good song. Kinda mainstream though."
Gerard shrugged. "Still a good song." I couldn't disagree.
We spent the remainder of the drive discussing music. He has quite good taste actually. Somehow I hadn't pegged him to be a metal head; he looked too delicate.
As if to prove my point, he shut up the moment we drove through the gates of Bedlam, aka high school. God, that kid really needed to grow a pair.
What did you think? Please review!! XD Big cheesy grin!