Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Die, School Musical
Chapter 14
5 ReviewsEugh, crappy emo rock.
Back! Yes, I had a great time, thanks for asking. Fucken beautiful mountain, best one I’ve ever climbed I think. Olympus FTW!
Also, I LIKE TRAINS!!!
Chapter 14
The day after the party and I am avoiding the other guys. Well actually, I’m avoiding everyone. Don’t think I’m not aware of how people are looking at me now. It fucking sucks. Not just the little smirks and giggles I’m getting from my classmates but also the fact that I’m bothered by it.
These people are my friends. Why should I care if people think they’re freaks? I keep telling myself this over and over again in my head but it doesn’t make a difference. I’ll walk down the hall and some chick will ask me when Frank’s coming off his meds and whether Mikey goes around stabbing prostitutes in his spare time and I want the floor to swallow me up and shit me out the other end into a world where no one knows me and unicorns are real.
And the music Kerrang! has decided to torture me with really isn’t helping.
“Nobody loves me, I’m all alone...”
Seriously, who wrote this shit?
“I’m so ugly, I want to die, my friends have left because they all suck...”
God, shut up!
“Fuck them all, slit my wrists, the pain feels sooo gooooood...”
“SHUT UP!” I scream at the radio.
“You shut up, you fucking emo prick.”
Erm...what?
Well that was surreal.
I shake my head to clear myself of talking radios and check my cell. About fifty messages from Frank, hopefully all begging for my forgiveness. They all go straight to “Delete”. I’m not in the mood for his grovelling right now, I’m too pissed off.
But I’m so fucking bored.
I have no one to talk to. Mikey’s out throwing things at old people and I’m giving him the silent treatment anyway for being such a misogynist. Well, if I can’t talk to my real friends I might as well turn to a little Facebook stalking to pass the time. I log on, take a few seconds to giggle at my profile picture (it’s a lama wearing a hat!) and prepare myself for at least three hours of brainless mind-fucking. I decide to frape my brother, proclaiming that he is sorry for how he acted last night and has joined a special class to help him get back in touch with his feminine side. A minute later I have five likes and about fifty comments, most of them directed towards his sexuality and/or doubting his ability to get an erection. ROFL!
I’m just about to like my hundredth Iron Maiden related page when I realise that the little red pop-up box has appeared in the corner of the screen, the name reading “Lindsey “LynZ” Ballato”, causing me to stop in mid click. Lindsey is messaging me. Lindsey is messaging me. I didn’t even know I had her listed as a friend! Oh, wait. That’s right. Last rehearsal Ms Maitland forced friend statuses upon us all so as to keep us updated with musical related developments. Well, if Lindsey’s messaging me it must be important. I click the box open.
Guess I missed u at Sean’s.
A very simple sentence. A statement, even. Completely casual, revealing nothing. So why the hell are my insides dancing the Macarena right now? I’ll tell you why. Lindsey is chatting to me for the first time EVER outside of rehearsal. And it’s not even about the musical! My heart flutters slightly as I type out:
yh, sorry. i left kinda earlyish. :/
I lean back in my seat. Inhale. Exhale. I am a tree. A Japanese willow. Despite the calming mantra thrill takes a hold as Facebook tells me Lindsey is typing.
Figured. I heard about what happened with Ken Brownstone and ur friend...Frank, right?
right. frank can get a little...heated...about sum things.
Lol bit of an understatement, don’t u think? :P Mind u the bastard probs had it coming. I can’t stand that little shithead.
This makes me smile for some reason. As if the fact that Lindsey’s on my best friend’s side makes up for all the shit we’ve been getting recently.
XD Ha i dont really know him. in fact i didnt really know many ppl @ that party. i felt lyk a rite loser 4 most of it tbh.
I know what u mean. I feel like that a lot of the time too.
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Lindsey Ballato? Feel like a loser? No freaking way.
i highly doubt that.
Doubt it all u want. Doesn’t change fact.
but ur so...
So what?
not loser-y?
...thanks?
u know what i mean. u seem to fit in really well with every1. ur rite at the top of the A-list.
A-list?
the most popular kids in skl. the ones who always look amazing nd have lyk a trillion fb friends and shizzzz.
So the jocks, slags and musical whores?
oui, c’est ça.
Wouldn’t that make u a-list?
BWAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! XD
Alright, jeez. don’t kill the keyboard.
i might just be the most far away from A-list as any high school student has evr been.
A few months ago and i’d have said that was true. But I don’t think u realise how much people respect u now. I was talking to some cool freaks the other day and they seem to regard u as sum kinda messiah or something.
Seriously???
yuh-huh.
:D i’m lyk jesus!!!
That’s not really what i was getting at...:P
that is beyond cool. but i dont get it. im not lyk you, i cant TALK to ppl.
You’re talking to me
yh, but thats different.
Hows it different?
...ur different?
:) Best compliment I’ve had all day.
no, but ur actually kinda cool to talk to...wen ur not going all crazy psycho bitch on me.
DON’T call me psycho bitch.
Or what? you’ll psycho bitch my ass?
That didnt even make sense.
Did so make sense. it made so much sense u cant get over how much sense it made.
...
>:) stunned into silence.
You’re a n00b.
and u use really gud grammar ovr instant chat.
Yeah. That’ll probs be because when I was younger my daddy would beat me for every spelling/grammar mistake I made in my exercise book.
:O SERIOUS??!
Kidding, Gerard, kidding.
-__- Not funny. and heres me feeling guilty for describing u as a cold-hearted Hitler reincarnate.
I’m not that bad!!!
YOU MADE ME DO PUSH-UPS!!!!!!!!!!!
>:D HAHA!! Forgot about that. Fucken made my day that did.
I’m about to answer when the little red pop up box sounds with a beep. Damn. It’s Frank.
aw man. soz “LynZ” g2g.
Oh. ok.
it was really cool talking 2 u without u biting my head off. we shud try it again, see if it was a fluke.
It was really cool talking to u without u ending up telling me a ridiculous story about ice-buns. ;) i’ll see you in rehearsal.
that u shall. byebye :)
See ya :)
Bye :) x
>:) Hah! not happening, Way.
:( a guy can dream.
As I sign off I can just picture the exasperated shaking of her head. The sarcastic rolling of her eyes. The eruption of giggles from a cherry lipstick painted mouth. A feeling of self-loathing washes over me. What am I doing? After years and years of wishing I am finally dating the love of my life and I’m flirting with the choreographer of our musical who, until very recently, hated my guts. I feel so bad that I promptly send Samantha a xoxoxo filled message and order some of that perfume she likes from that fancy online store so that she’ll open her locker tomorrow morning and thank G-man for granting her such a lovely boyfriend.
Who says money and cheesily romantic Facebooking can’t buy you happiness?
*
“Girlfriend in a coma I know, I know it’s serious...”
Aw now this is more like it! I turn up the volume on my iPod as I wrench open the locker door, thus releasing a tidal wave of little scrap pieces of paper pouring from the enclosed space. Perplexed I bend down to pick one up and see it is adorned with the sentence “I’m sorry.” Looking around I realise they all are. I sigh in exasperation. There is only one person in the world prepared to donate so much time into something so completely pointless.
And he’s coming down the hallway now.
Frank stops next to me and gestures to the notes covering the tiled floor. “I see you got my message.”
“A little OTT, don’t you think?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “You know I don’t like saying sorry. But I know that you’re pissed off with me and I wanted to apologise.”
“I’m not pissed off with you,” I mumble, hiding behind my fringe.
Frank rolls his eyes. “Seriously, Gee? You blew us off at lunch to sit with your plastic fantastic friends, sat next to Fugly Francis in Chemistry and sent me evils from across the classroom all the way through and you signed off Facebook the second I signed in.”
“Okay, so I’m a little pissed off with you,” I shrug. Actually, after having to spend a double period next to Francis I’m not sure it was worth it. I sniff my jacket gingerly. Yup. Still smells like kebab.
“And you have a right to be,” Frank nods. “I acted like an idiot at the party. Totally embarrassing for you. And so...”
He holds up one of the scraps of paper, pleading with those big, puppy-dog eyes. I frown at him. “Why can’t you just tell me you’re sorry?”
“Gerard, you know it causes me liberal amounts of pain to show any kind of emotional weakness.”
“That it does,” I sigh. “Fine. I will sit with you at lunch. But I’m still mad.”
“I figured you would be,” Frank nods wisely. “Which is why...”
He reaches deep into the pocket of his leather jacket and draws out two rectangular strips of glossy card with a flourish. “I bought two tickets to see Iron Maiden in a week's time.”
I stare at him in shock. Then I squeal like a thirteen year old girl. “Omigod, omigod I love you so fucking much!”
“Yes you do,” nods Frank, voice muffled as I seize him in a scarily tight hug. “I take it I am forgiven?”
“Yes, whatever, I don’t care,” I say, snatching the ticket from his hand. “You legend, Frank! How much did they cost? I’ll pay you back.”
“No, no, no,” Frank shakes his head. “It’s my apology gift. That means I pay for everything. The booze, the weed, everything.”
“Do you even know where to get weed from?”
“Not important,” Frank brushes away brusquely. “We have lettuce.”
“Wha-?”
“-But as excited as I am about seeing Iron Maiden,” Frank suddenly looks slightly bashful and stares down at his feet. “I’m more excited about FINALLY spending some actual time with you.”
N’aaaw! Ittle wittle Frankie is admitting he likes someone and it hurts him inside! “What are you talking about? We hang out like, all the time.”
“Not recently,” Frank shakes his head. “Recently you’ve been so busy with the musical it’s kinda as if you’ve forgotten about all your loser friends.”
“You’re not a loser,” I tell him, my heart wrenching a little. “And you’re right. Ms Maitland has been keeping us all so busy lately...I’m sorry. I should be making more time for you guys.”
“Wanna come over after school?”
My face falls. “Not today.”
“Musical or gerbil girl?”
“Um, Samantha? My girlfriend?”
“Yeah, gerbil girl.”
“Why d’you call her that?”
“She has a really annoying voice. And she kinda reminds me of a gerbil or a hamster or something like...I dunno...Vanessa Anne Hudgens. Not that she’s not attractive,” he adds hurriedly at the expression on my face. “I’m sure there are loads of people who are...into that.”
“Frank, what are you saying?”
“I don’t know,” he frowns. “I guess I just don’t get what you see in her.”
“Could this have anything to do with the fact that you suck dick?”
“Nooo,” Frank rolls his eyes again. “She’s just a little...two dimensional for me. What do you see in her besides Grecian goddess?”
I am too shocked and appalled to reply. Frank appears to realise he has offended me in some way and holds out another piece of paper. I’m can’t be bothered to be mad at him for any longer so I let it lie and we walk together off to class. But as Samantha passes us in the hallway, fluttering her fingers with her Miss America wave I can’t help but notice the look on Frank’s face.
“So,” I begin, immediately put on guard. “You don’t have any new assignments for me?”
Frank raises his eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Who’s next on your list of revenge?”
“Oh, right.” Frank reaches into his other pocket and takes out a neatly typed list. The names “Christina Simpson” and “Kash Jones” have already been crossed off in red pen.
“You actually have a list?!” I cry in disbelief. “I was kidding!”
“I wasn’t,” says Frank. “Ah, yes. Tina Lopez. Bitch.”
“Hey, I know Tina,” I say, racking my brains. I think she plays a cabaret dancer in the Paris scene of the school musical. She seemed really nice when I talked to her. “What’s she done?”
“You know Pete Williams from your art class?”
“Yuh-huh.”
“You know how I’ve been in love with him for like, ever?”
“...This is a new development, isn’t it? You only just dumped Will.”
“But I never really liked him,” Frank states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Such a pussy. Wouldn’t even help me out in a fight. Nope, I was only dating Will to make Pete jealous. He is GORGEOUS Gerard, I swear, I almost, like, died when I saw him.”
“Hey, isn’t that him now?” I ask, pointing a little way away.
He is pretty hot. For a guy, obviously. He spots Frank almost immediately and makes straight for us. I try to act casual but it’s really difficult with Frank hissing “act casual, act casual” repeatedly in my ear.
“What’s up, Iero?” he grins.
“Up your mom’s ass, Williams!” Frank shouts back.
“Wanna take it outside and I’ll tear you a new one.”
“I’ve already got one which is more than I can say for you, you pathetic piece of mouldy poop!”
“Fag.”
“Queer.”
“See you in English.”
“Can I share your copy of Pride and Prejudice? I left mine at home.”
“Yeah, sure. Don’t drop it down the toilet though, like you did with my last copy.”
“Then don’t hit me over the head with it!”
Pete walks off laughing. Frank turns back to me with a love-struck look in his eye. “Gorgeous.”
Ladies and gentleman, it is finally official. I know someone more fucked up than I am.
“So what has this got to do with Tina Lopez?” I ask.
Frank’s face morphs comically from smitten to malevolent. “She’s his girlfriend.”
“He’s not gay?”
“Bi,” Frank corrects me. “And she reminds me every time we meet. She thinks she’s so great, just cos she’s got a pair of tits. I mean, hello sister? Three quarters of the population have got just as much.”
“So what are you gonna do?”
The malevolent look intensifies as Frank draws yet another object from his jacket pocket. Honestly, what’s next a magic carpet? But it appears to be little more than a plastic container of testosterone pills.
“Are those yours?” I ask, surprised. I didn’t realise Frank was so insecure!
Frank looks at me disbelieving me. “No, fuckwad. I stole them from Ray’s gym bag.”
“Oh, right.” The world makes sense again.
“I want to give Tina a little taste of what it’s like being a gay kid in high school,” Frank explains. “If we replace these with the oestrogen pills she always takes before cheerleading that’ll be as close as I’m going to get.”
“We?”
“Please, Gerard.”
“No. No way. Not this time.” I shake my head, adamant. “This is dangerous. These are drugs we’re talking about. They could seriously fuck her up.”
Frank looks at me, his face unreadable for a second and then he puts the pills back in his pocket. “You’re right. I won’t do it. Too many risks.”
I breathe out in relief. “Good.”
Frank nods and checks his watch. “Oh shit, I left my bag in my locker. Wait for me.”
He hurries off down the corridor, leaving me standing there in disbelief, wondering about the lengths this kid will go to get even.
Thanks to Haze for the quote. ;) Next chapter up Monday hopefully.
Also, I LIKE TRAINS!!!
Chapter 14
The day after the party and I am avoiding the other guys. Well actually, I’m avoiding everyone. Don’t think I’m not aware of how people are looking at me now. It fucking sucks. Not just the little smirks and giggles I’m getting from my classmates but also the fact that I’m bothered by it.
These people are my friends. Why should I care if people think they’re freaks? I keep telling myself this over and over again in my head but it doesn’t make a difference. I’ll walk down the hall and some chick will ask me when Frank’s coming off his meds and whether Mikey goes around stabbing prostitutes in his spare time and I want the floor to swallow me up and shit me out the other end into a world where no one knows me and unicorns are real.
And the music Kerrang! has decided to torture me with really isn’t helping.
“Nobody loves me, I’m all alone...”
Seriously, who wrote this shit?
“I’m so ugly, I want to die, my friends have left because they all suck...”
God, shut up!
“Fuck them all, slit my wrists, the pain feels sooo gooooood...”
“SHUT UP!” I scream at the radio.
“You shut up, you fucking emo prick.”
Erm...what?
Well that was surreal.
I shake my head to clear myself of talking radios and check my cell. About fifty messages from Frank, hopefully all begging for my forgiveness. They all go straight to “Delete”. I’m not in the mood for his grovelling right now, I’m too pissed off.
But I’m so fucking bored.
I have no one to talk to. Mikey’s out throwing things at old people and I’m giving him the silent treatment anyway for being such a misogynist. Well, if I can’t talk to my real friends I might as well turn to a little Facebook stalking to pass the time. I log on, take a few seconds to giggle at my profile picture (it’s a lama wearing a hat!) and prepare myself for at least three hours of brainless mind-fucking. I decide to frape my brother, proclaiming that he is sorry for how he acted last night and has joined a special class to help him get back in touch with his feminine side. A minute later I have five likes and about fifty comments, most of them directed towards his sexuality and/or doubting his ability to get an erection. ROFL!
I’m just about to like my hundredth Iron Maiden related page when I realise that the little red pop-up box has appeared in the corner of the screen, the name reading “Lindsey “LynZ” Ballato”, causing me to stop in mid click. Lindsey is messaging me. Lindsey is messaging me. I didn’t even know I had her listed as a friend! Oh, wait. That’s right. Last rehearsal Ms Maitland forced friend statuses upon us all so as to keep us updated with musical related developments. Well, if Lindsey’s messaging me it must be important. I click the box open.
Guess I missed u at Sean’s.
A very simple sentence. A statement, even. Completely casual, revealing nothing. So why the hell are my insides dancing the Macarena right now? I’ll tell you why. Lindsey is chatting to me for the first time EVER outside of rehearsal. And it’s not even about the musical! My heart flutters slightly as I type out:
yh, sorry. i left kinda earlyish. :/
I lean back in my seat. Inhale. Exhale. I am a tree. A Japanese willow. Despite the calming mantra thrill takes a hold as Facebook tells me Lindsey is typing.
Figured. I heard about what happened with Ken Brownstone and ur friend...Frank, right?
right. frank can get a little...heated...about sum things.
Lol bit of an understatement, don’t u think? :P Mind u the bastard probs had it coming. I can’t stand that little shithead.
This makes me smile for some reason. As if the fact that Lindsey’s on my best friend’s side makes up for all the shit we’ve been getting recently.
XD Ha i dont really know him. in fact i didnt really know many ppl @ that party. i felt lyk a rite loser 4 most of it tbh.
I know what u mean. I feel like that a lot of the time too.
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Lindsey Ballato? Feel like a loser? No freaking way.
i highly doubt that.
Doubt it all u want. Doesn’t change fact.
but ur so...
So what?
not loser-y?
...thanks?
u know what i mean. u seem to fit in really well with every1. ur rite at the top of the A-list.
A-list?
the most popular kids in skl. the ones who always look amazing nd have lyk a trillion fb friends and shizzzz.
So the jocks, slags and musical whores?
oui, c’est ça.
Wouldn’t that make u a-list?
BWAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! XD
Alright, jeez. don’t kill the keyboard.
i might just be the most far away from A-list as any high school student has evr been.
A few months ago and i’d have said that was true. But I don’t think u realise how much people respect u now. I was talking to some cool freaks the other day and they seem to regard u as sum kinda messiah or something.
Seriously???
yuh-huh.
:D i’m lyk jesus!!!
That’s not really what i was getting at...:P
that is beyond cool. but i dont get it. im not lyk you, i cant TALK to ppl.
You’re talking to me
yh, but thats different.
Hows it different?
...ur different?
:) Best compliment I’ve had all day.
no, but ur actually kinda cool to talk to...wen ur not going all crazy psycho bitch on me.
DON’T call me psycho bitch.
Or what? you’ll psycho bitch my ass?
That didnt even make sense.
Did so make sense. it made so much sense u cant get over how much sense it made.
...
>:) stunned into silence.
You’re a n00b.
and u use really gud grammar ovr instant chat.
Yeah. That’ll probs be because when I was younger my daddy would beat me for every spelling/grammar mistake I made in my exercise book.
:O SERIOUS??!
Kidding, Gerard, kidding.
-__- Not funny. and heres me feeling guilty for describing u as a cold-hearted Hitler reincarnate.
I’m not that bad!!!
YOU MADE ME DO PUSH-UPS!!!!!!!!!!!
>:D HAHA!! Forgot about that. Fucken made my day that did.
I’m about to answer when the little red pop up box sounds with a beep. Damn. It’s Frank.
aw man. soz “LynZ” g2g.
Oh. ok.
it was really cool talking 2 u without u biting my head off. we shud try it again, see if it was a fluke.
It was really cool talking to u without u ending up telling me a ridiculous story about ice-buns. ;) i’ll see you in rehearsal.
that u shall. byebye :)
See ya :)
Bye :) x
>:) Hah! not happening, Way.
:( a guy can dream.
As I sign off I can just picture the exasperated shaking of her head. The sarcastic rolling of her eyes. The eruption of giggles from a cherry lipstick painted mouth. A feeling of self-loathing washes over me. What am I doing? After years and years of wishing I am finally dating the love of my life and I’m flirting with the choreographer of our musical who, until very recently, hated my guts. I feel so bad that I promptly send Samantha a xoxoxo filled message and order some of that perfume she likes from that fancy online store so that she’ll open her locker tomorrow morning and thank G-man for granting her such a lovely boyfriend.
Who says money and cheesily romantic Facebooking can’t buy you happiness?
*
“Girlfriend in a coma I know, I know it’s serious...”
Aw now this is more like it! I turn up the volume on my iPod as I wrench open the locker door, thus releasing a tidal wave of little scrap pieces of paper pouring from the enclosed space. Perplexed I bend down to pick one up and see it is adorned with the sentence “I’m sorry.” Looking around I realise they all are. I sigh in exasperation. There is only one person in the world prepared to donate so much time into something so completely pointless.
And he’s coming down the hallway now.
Frank stops next to me and gestures to the notes covering the tiled floor. “I see you got my message.”
“A little OTT, don’t you think?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “You know I don’t like saying sorry. But I know that you’re pissed off with me and I wanted to apologise.”
“I’m not pissed off with you,” I mumble, hiding behind my fringe.
Frank rolls his eyes. “Seriously, Gee? You blew us off at lunch to sit with your plastic fantastic friends, sat next to Fugly Francis in Chemistry and sent me evils from across the classroom all the way through and you signed off Facebook the second I signed in.”
“Okay, so I’m a little pissed off with you,” I shrug. Actually, after having to spend a double period next to Francis I’m not sure it was worth it. I sniff my jacket gingerly. Yup. Still smells like kebab.
“And you have a right to be,” Frank nods. “I acted like an idiot at the party. Totally embarrassing for you. And so...”
He holds up one of the scraps of paper, pleading with those big, puppy-dog eyes. I frown at him. “Why can’t you just tell me you’re sorry?”
“Gerard, you know it causes me liberal amounts of pain to show any kind of emotional weakness.”
“That it does,” I sigh. “Fine. I will sit with you at lunch. But I’m still mad.”
“I figured you would be,” Frank nods wisely. “Which is why...”
He reaches deep into the pocket of his leather jacket and draws out two rectangular strips of glossy card with a flourish. “I bought two tickets to see Iron Maiden in a week's time.”
I stare at him in shock. Then I squeal like a thirteen year old girl. “Omigod, omigod I love you so fucking much!”
“Yes you do,” nods Frank, voice muffled as I seize him in a scarily tight hug. “I take it I am forgiven?”
“Yes, whatever, I don’t care,” I say, snatching the ticket from his hand. “You legend, Frank! How much did they cost? I’ll pay you back.”
“No, no, no,” Frank shakes his head. “It’s my apology gift. That means I pay for everything. The booze, the weed, everything.”
“Do you even know where to get weed from?”
“Not important,” Frank brushes away brusquely. “We have lettuce.”
“Wha-?”
“-But as excited as I am about seeing Iron Maiden,” Frank suddenly looks slightly bashful and stares down at his feet. “I’m more excited about FINALLY spending some actual time with you.”
N’aaaw! Ittle wittle Frankie is admitting he likes someone and it hurts him inside! “What are you talking about? We hang out like, all the time.”
“Not recently,” Frank shakes his head. “Recently you’ve been so busy with the musical it’s kinda as if you’ve forgotten about all your loser friends.”
“You’re not a loser,” I tell him, my heart wrenching a little. “And you’re right. Ms Maitland has been keeping us all so busy lately...I’m sorry. I should be making more time for you guys.”
“Wanna come over after school?”
My face falls. “Not today.”
“Musical or gerbil girl?”
“Um, Samantha? My girlfriend?”
“Yeah, gerbil girl.”
“Why d’you call her that?”
“She has a really annoying voice. And she kinda reminds me of a gerbil or a hamster or something like...I dunno...Vanessa Anne Hudgens. Not that she’s not attractive,” he adds hurriedly at the expression on my face. “I’m sure there are loads of people who are...into that.”
“Frank, what are you saying?”
“I don’t know,” he frowns. “I guess I just don’t get what you see in her.”
“Could this have anything to do with the fact that you suck dick?”
“Nooo,” Frank rolls his eyes again. “She’s just a little...two dimensional for me. What do you see in her besides Grecian goddess?”
I am too shocked and appalled to reply. Frank appears to realise he has offended me in some way and holds out another piece of paper. I’m can’t be bothered to be mad at him for any longer so I let it lie and we walk together off to class. But as Samantha passes us in the hallway, fluttering her fingers with her Miss America wave I can’t help but notice the look on Frank’s face.
“So,” I begin, immediately put on guard. “You don’t have any new assignments for me?”
Frank raises his eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Who’s next on your list of revenge?”
“Oh, right.” Frank reaches into his other pocket and takes out a neatly typed list. The names “Christina Simpson” and “Kash Jones” have already been crossed off in red pen.
“You actually have a list?!” I cry in disbelief. “I was kidding!”
“I wasn’t,” says Frank. “Ah, yes. Tina Lopez. Bitch.”
“Hey, I know Tina,” I say, racking my brains. I think she plays a cabaret dancer in the Paris scene of the school musical. She seemed really nice when I talked to her. “What’s she done?”
“You know Pete Williams from your art class?”
“Yuh-huh.”
“You know how I’ve been in love with him for like, ever?”
“...This is a new development, isn’t it? You only just dumped Will.”
“But I never really liked him,” Frank states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Such a pussy. Wouldn’t even help me out in a fight. Nope, I was only dating Will to make Pete jealous. He is GORGEOUS Gerard, I swear, I almost, like, died when I saw him.”
“Hey, isn’t that him now?” I ask, pointing a little way away.
He is pretty hot. For a guy, obviously. He spots Frank almost immediately and makes straight for us. I try to act casual but it’s really difficult with Frank hissing “act casual, act casual” repeatedly in my ear.
“What’s up, Iero?” he grins.
“Up your mom’s ass, Williams!” Frank shouts back.
“Wanna take it outside and I’ll tear you a new one.”
“I’ve already got one which is more than I can say for you, you pathetic piece of mouldy poop!”
“Fag.”
“Queer.”
“See you in English.”
“Can I share your copy of Pride and Prejudice? I left mine at home.”
“Yeah, sure. Don’t drop it down the toilet though, like you did with my last copy.”
“Then don’t hit me over the head with it!”
Pete walks off laughing. Frank turns back to me with a love-struck look in his eye. “Gorgeous.”
Ladies and gentleman, it is finally official. I know someone more fucked up than I am.
“So what has this got to do with Tina Lopez?” I ask.
Frank’s face morphs comically from smitten to malevolent. “She’s his girlfriend.”
“He’s not gay?”
“Bi,” Frank corrects me. “And she reminds me every time we meet. She thinks she’s so great, just cos she’s got a pair of tits. I mean, hello sister? Three quarters of the population have got just as much.”
“So what are you gonna do?”
The malevolent look intensifies as Frank draws yet another object from his jacket pocket. Honestly, what’s next a magic carpet? But it appears to be little more than a plastic container of testosterone pills.
“Are those yours?” I ask, surprised. I didn’t realise Frank was so insecure!
Frank looks at me disbelieving me. “No, fuckwad. I stole them from Ray’s gym bag.”
“Oh, right.” The world makes sense again.
“I want to give Tina a little taste of what it’s like being a gay kid in high school,” Frank explains. “If we replace these with the oestrogen pills she always takes before cheerleading that’ll be as close as I’m going to get.”
“We?”
“Please, Gerard.”
“No. No way. Not this time.” I shake my head, adamant. “This is dangerous. These are drugs we’re talking about. They could seriously fuck her up.”
Frank looks at me, his face unreadable for a second and then he puts the pills back in his pocket. “You’re right. I won’t do it. Too many risks.”
I breathe out in relief. “Good.”
Frank nods and checks his watch. “Oh shit, I left my bag in my locker. Wait for me.”
He hurries off down the corridor, leaving me standing there in disbelief, wondering about the lengths this kid will go to get even.
Thanks to Haze for the quote. ;) Next chapter up Monday hopefully.
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