Hehe. The Minaret.
“Gerard, my man! How’s it hanging?”
“Erm, okay thanks.”
“Yo, Gee-dog! Up top!”
I raise my hand for a high five and wince slightly as Todd’s palm smacks it down. It stings but I guess that’s the price you pay for popularity.
Wait, let me say that again. Popularity. Hehe. It gets better every time I think the word.
Hell yes, my friends. Gerard Way, horror movies addict, obsessive Misfits fan, completer of Arrival in Hell three times (three times!!!) and champion loser has suddenly become, through a series of extremely confusing events, popular. Oh, you laugh, do you? Look around. I’m standing in the hallway just outside my locker, a stampede of students rushing past me on their way to class. Ordinarily, they would treat me as if I was invisible or, in the case of Kash Jones or any other fuck-headed jock, hurl me into an open locker and slam the door shut, oblivious to my pleas for mercy. But not today.
Today everyone wants to know me. They smile at me in History. Pass me test-tubes in Chemistry. They even pick me for sports, something that hasn’t happened to me since I was about ten years old. I don’t understand it and I’m not sure about the nickname “Gee-dog” but it sure beats having my head bashed in every day after school.
And the best part?
“Hey gorgeous,” whispers my girlfriend from behind my left shoulder.
Hey gorgeous? I love her!
I turn around and lock my lips with hers, loving the feeling of her so close to me and the smell of passion fruit shampoo. I never understood why anyone would want hair smelling like food before but now I get it 100%.
“What are you doing for lunch?” I ask as we break apart. “We don’t have rehearsal today, do we?”
“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head. “But I’ve gotta eat with the girls today. Christina’s suffered a big break up with her boyfriend and needs some comforting. Ever since that whole haemorrhoid thing he’s been treating her so coldly.”
“Anyway, whatcha got now?” she asks me.
Ha! A girl who actually cares about my life. I pull out my timetable and feel the grin slip of my face as I reply, “Shit. Triple physics.”
“Aw, I’m sorry,” she grimaces. “Oh well. Think of me!”
“You know it,” I grin and she walks away with what I’m starting to call her Miss America wave.
To tell you the truth, I’m a little bit relieved that she’s decided to eat with her friends today. Since we became an official “thing” we’ve eaten lunch together practically every day and I feel bad for blowing the guys off. I think Frank might be a little cheesed off with me because I couldn’t make the back-to-back Matrix sleepover because I was at Samantha’s Twi-night. Believe you me, I suffered worse.
The bell rings and I force my ass off to the science. Good, my seat is empty. Well, kinda. As I approach Frank props one foot up on the vacant chair and looks at me with his “so-what” expression.
“Dude, that’s my chair,” I inform him. As if he didn’t know.
He raises an eyebrow. “Is it?” he shrugs. “Is it really your chair, Gerard?”
Blink. Blink. “Yes, Frank, it’s my chair.”
“Why is it your chair?”
Blink. “Because it just fucking is. It’s been my chair for three years!”
“It wasn’t your chair last week.”
“That’s because I was on an Art trip to a sculpture park.”
“My point exactly,” Frank nods. “It’s your chair...until something better comes up. At that point you leave it to find a better chair, a chair with soft lining next to a coach window...”
I shake my head in despair. “You are being totally ridiculous.”
Frank’s eyes widen in indignation. “I’m being ridiculous? You stood up Keanu Reeves for Robert Pattinson!”
Fuck my pathetic life. “That’s what this is about?” Frank says nothing. “You are so childish!”
“How am I childish?”
“Oh I don’t know Frank, maybe it’s the fact that you purposefully saved me a seat just so that you couldn’t let me sit in it when I arrived!”
“How do you know I saved you this seat?”
“Because someone would be sitting in it, maybe?”
“Oh yes,” he says, voice heavy with sarcasm. “Because your seat is so special, Gerard. Everyone is just dying to sit there as soon as you leave the room...”
I can’t be bothered with this. “You know what? I’m just gonna go sit next to Fugly Francis.”
“You do that.”
“Super-duper Koopa Troopa.”
“I need to borrow your notes on conduction. I didn’t do the homework.”
Is he actually serious?! I turn around to give him the best how dare you stare I can do but I stop quickly though cos it kinda hurts my face. “Die in a hole.”
“Please, Gerard, I’ll be quick!”
“No! You ignored me when I try to explain where I was, gave Samantha the evils all morning just because she was there and forced me out of my seat so that I have no choice but to sit next to a girl who smells like she bathed in kebab! And now you want to copy my homework.”
“Fine. You can have your seat back. Happy now?”
“Not until I get a full apology.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Then you can blow me.”
“I though you’d never ask.”
Eugh! He is disgusting. I give him one last withering look and sit next to Francis instead who smiles at me with broken yellowing teeth. I attempt to smile back but I think it just died and rotted on my face.
“Do you love me?” she whispers pleadingly.
I nod reassuringly. “Yes, Francis. Everybody loves you.”
Her smile widens gratefully. Frank stifles a laugh. I kick at the back of his chair.
“Good morning class,” greets our physics teacher.
“Good morning Mr Andersen,” the class drones back.
“Frank, what happened? Did you get a claw stuck in Gerard’s eye? I’m sure a saucer of milk will make it all better.”
I love how our Physics teacher makes very subtle homophobic jokes and everybody laughs. Hahaha, Frank is gay, he must be a woman, we had a cat fight. Very good, Mr Anderson, very good.
“Okay, Bunsen burners are in the drawer, get yourself a lab coat and goggles, we’re continuing the experiment we did last time with the addition of some alkaline metals...”
As Frank gets up a piece of paper flutters onto my desk. I get together the equipment needed for the experiment and read it quickly.
I’m mad at you.
Rolling my eyes at his immaturity I scrawl back Good to know and drop it on his desk. Seconds later he returns it with: I’m going to fail my college application because of you.
God, what a little drama queen. You weren’t going to finish school anyway, I write back. You’re a rockstar, remember?
But it’s good to have a back-up plan. And now if Jared Leto wrecks my dreams by framing me for the murder of Kurt Cobain I will have to be a hobo with a shotgun instead of the Chairman of the Environmental Protection Agency.
Right. Because you’re a regular Mother Theresa.
He responds with a charming little doodle of me lying in a pile of stinking moose shit with drumsticks sticking out of my eyes and the caption “I hope you rot in hell for being a meany Panini.” Sigh. Even with the disturbing drawing I can’t help feeling guilty.
Frank, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.
No you won’t. You’ll say that to lure me into being friends with you again and then you’ll ditch me at the last minute for your GIRLFRIEND.
I won’t, I promise. There’s got to be something I can do to stop you being mad.
Frank turns around in his chair very slowly and my heart sinks because he’s got that look on his face. But a deal is a deal and him being pissed at me sucks too much.
“Well, there is one thing,” he begins.
“Frank! Gerard! The whole “make friends, make friends, never ever break friends” thing is very sweet but do you mind finishing it after class?” sneers Mr Andersen.
“I’ll tell you later,” says Frank, turning back around and ignores me for the rest of the lesson.
I have to admit. This is genius.
“That’s all you want me to do?” I clarify. “Nothing else? That’s all?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” Frank nods. “Of course, I might think of something else later but for now this is fine.”
“This is gonna be so freaking hilarious!” Ray claps.
“Unless Kash finds out it was us,” Mikey intervenes. “In which case we won’t be laughing for very long.”
“Don’t be such a killjoy,” says Frank dismissively. “Do it, Gerard.”
I don’t know why but I really like that word. “Killjoy”. It has a nice ring to it. In response to the eagerly awaiting eyes I click the icon on the screen to set up my new Facebook profile.
“What do you want to call her?” I ask the Brain.
Frank shrugs. “Abigail. Jessica. Yvonne. Sioban. Grace. Edith. Margarine-”
“-I’ll go with Abigail.” I type it into the box. “Age?”
“Go for older,” Ray suggests. “Say nineteen.”
Everybody’s quiet, thinking. Then Heather taps me on the shoulder, holding a notepad reading: Just a good-time girl looking for some fun in a new city.
“Nice,” Frank nods approvingly. Heather looks amused.
“And now for the profile pic!” I gotta admit, I’m a little dubious about this part. Ray says that he’s got a hot cousin and she doesn’t mind her picture being used for revenge but...well, I’ve never met said cousin. And Ray’s idea of a sexy female is slightly...controversial. For one thing he had a crush on Sarah Palin for quite a while.
But as he shows us the picture all our doubts fade away. In fact, so does our ability to speak. We just gawp. Mikey lets out a low whistle, earning a pin-down from his girlfriend and a bent arm.
“She’s in your family?!” cries Young Nile. “Not possible!”
“Are those even real?” I wonder aloud, poking at the screen.
“Dude,” says Ray. “Can you please quit molesting my cousin’s boobs?”
“Approved,” nods Frank, selecting it as a profile pic. “And I think we’re done!”
We all lean back, admiring our handiwork. Abigail Sanchez is any seventeen year old boy’s dream. But if all goes according to plan she’ll be Kash Jones’ worst nightmare.
Five minutes later and we’ve had over one hundred friend requests, including one from our favourite dumb jock. Stage 1 complete. We start chatting to him immediately, making sure to keep her flirty and out there. It’s clear to see that Kash is already half in love with her from the profile pic.
so u live round here?
yh not far frm jersey park.
oh cooool. :) u seem really awesomme.
thanks ur beautiful
aw fanks daahling xxx :P we shud meet up some time
yh deffo :) when did u hav in mind??
um tomorrow @ 8? thers a new club that i really want 2 try
wats it called?
“the minaret” its rite next 2 the bargain booze on main street
yh i fink i seen it but never gone in
oh its supposed to b really hot il be waiting 4 u babe ;) xxxxxxxxxxxxx
kk see u there xxxxxxxxxxxx
“How stupid can you get?” says Ray, aghast. “As if a nineteen year old new chick would automatically be into a old high school student she met over Facebook. ”
“Hey, it’s happened before,” Gerard shrugged. “Remember Xou Ling?”
“Yes Gerard, but she thought you were some famous actor from Hong Kong who could save her family from debt.”
“Still, we stayed friends.” She was such a good kid. I hope she got the jewellery box back from her uncle’s mafia friend.
“Right,” Frank rubs his hands together, an insane grin lighting up his face. “Make sure the camera’s charged and Mikey, pass me my cell. I think some of my friends will be interested in this new development.”
“When he says friends he means booty-calls,” I explain to Heather in an undertone.
“Hiya Mitch,” says Frank into his phone. “Yeah I know, long time no see. You at the Minaret tomorrow? Tell the boys. There’s someone you gotta meet.”
“Hold up,” Mikey frowned. “The club is actually called the Minaret?”
“And Kash Jones thinks it’s a straight club?”
Mikey looks aghast. “How stupid can you get?!”
And that we shall find out...next Monday! Or maybe a little earlier, depends on how I’m feeling.
Only a few more chapters to go, I think. Thanks for reading!