thanks for all the reviews, i can't wait to write some more! i've planned some exciting things :D
"Frank!" Linda screamed whilst she looked at the clock. It was already 7.30, and they were going to be late. She stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for her son to come down from his room, which was at the top of the house. She sighed to herself. He was ALWAYS late. Even if she nagged him, he still took his time.
"FRANK," she screamed again, this time walking over towards the door to collect her keys. Her head turned when she heard the heavy clod of footsteps crashing down the wooden stairs.
"Thank God," she said, smiling at her son and trying to neaten his collar, just like any doting mother.
"MOM!" He yelled as he tried to wriggle away from her helping hands. Linda laughed. She knew he hated looking smart, but she felt so proud of him, despite his recent efforts at school.
"Frank!" She said as her voice became more kind. "Frank, my dear, calm down!" She kissed him on the cheek. "It's your chance to show Mr. Jones that you're not naughty and disruptive. Please make a good impression, for my sake."
Frank muttered something, which, fortunately, his mother didn't hear. He hated Mr. Jones, the Principle - and he hated Frank. He was only going for this 'consultation' for his mother's sake. He felt guilty that his grades and attendance were slipping, as she was the one who got the greif off the teachers.
"Ready?" She asked him. He nodded and smiled at her.
"Don't worry about it kiddo. C'mon, we don't want to be late." She said, putting her arm around him and kissing him on the forehead.
Linda gathered the car keys and they both stepped outside into the freezing cold. Frank stood there, hands in his pocket whilst she locked the door. He felt stupid dressed in a suit. At least he had his eyeliner on. They walked up towards the car and got in. The journey was pretty silent. Frank felt kind of nervous, anxious maybe. He twiddled his thumbs and wondered what it was like to have good grades and attendance for once. Linda, on the other hand was sure her son would be able to 'pull the wool' over Principle. Jones's eyes. She didn't want him to be expelled, she didn't want him to have a useless future without any qualifications. She wanted the best for her son, and that was that.
The pulled into the high school, the huge building standing infront of them. Frank felt threatened by it's enourmous stone walls, like he was enclosed. They got out and walked, slowly into the recpetion. Frank felt scared now, this was it. His one and only chance to impress Mr. Jones, and his mother. The receptionist was sat at the desk infront of them wearing her knitted peach jumper which she ALWAYS wore. She was in her mid forties and had a boring, monotonmous voice that cracked Frank up. Behind her were photographs of past and present honor roll students. Frank thought they all looked like nerds apart from one girl whose photo was situated in the corner of the wall, underneath Gregory Fitzgerald, the school Stephen Hawking.
"Ah," the receptionist said, looking down her nose at Frank. "Francis, Principle. Jones is expecting you. Please DO take a seat." Frank turned to his mom and gave her an annoyed glance. He clenched his fists - he was NOT called Francis.
"Thank you," Linda gracefully said as she ushered Frank to the brown chairs which were to the side of the desk and opposite Principle. Jones's door. He looked at his shoes. They were shiney, and he had never, well occasionally worn shiney shoes. There was the sound of a door opening, and out came Jones, his hair gelled back and his christmas tree tie on.
"Why, Mrs. Iero, please come in," he offered, his face as smug as hell. Frank knew he was being fake - he was never normaly this 'sugar coted'. They both got up and unsurely walked into his office, Frank sitting on the right and Linda on the right.
"Well," he continued, "we all know why we're here."
Linda nodded and Frank's stomach turned.
"Young man," Principle. Jones said, addressing Frank. "Your grades are appauling. You're flunking every single subject apart from English, AND Mr. Simmons says you do not hand in your homework on time. PLUS you're only here for three, four days a week maximum." He paused, and took a deep breath, looking at the desk for a second and then at Frank. "You NEED to sort yourself out, Frank. If not, I have no choice but to expell you."
"Yes, you MUST sort yourself out, Frankie," Linda agreed, indicating this by nodding her head.
"Hey, I'll compromise with you, Frank. You do the work and turn up, and I won't expell you." Principle Jones suggested, flashing his fake Hollywood smile.
Frank switched off. He nodded a few times, so that Principle Jones didn't know Frank wasn't listening. He was bored listening to an old, boring man whitter on about useless crap. Frank KNEW he was failing most subjects, he didn't need to be reminded. He didn't have time though. He was too busy in his own little world.
Linda and Frank were sat in the car, the streetlamps mixing with the dark night sky in a concoction of black and orange as they went past. Linda knew Frank hadn't listened to Principle Jones. She was desparate for Frank to listen. She didn't want him to leave without any decent qualifications.
"Frank," she said, her voice soft and full of concern. "Please work hard at school."
Frank felt guilty, again. He didn't have the motivation, but he desperately wanted to please his mother. He wanted to lash out on her and scream, telling her how much he hated it; but he didn't have the heart.
"I will," he replied fiddling with his sleeve. He turned around and noticed the bag he had left on the backseat earlier. It contained his clothes, as he didn't want to go out into public dressed like Al Capone.
"Mom," he asked in a sweet and manipulative voice, "will you drop me off at Gerard's?"
Linda thought. If she let Frank go, she knew she was letting herself and him down. He needed to concentrate on school work. However, if she didn't, she knew that he'd be upset and she didn't want that. Plus, Gerard was a nice boy - or so she thought.
"Oh, sweetheart," she sighed.
"Thanks, Mom. You're the best." He laughed and reached over his shoulder, fetching the bag.
Linda drove the car throughout the unusually quiet streets of Belleville, thinking about Frank's future. Would she make him go to school, or not?
Meanwhile, Frank had something else on his mind.
awr! poor Frank.
but WHAT does he have on his mind?
i'm not @ home for the next few days so there may be a delay in uploading the story, but i'll try my best to get it some more done!