Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Push- Chapter 3 up
Frank and I walk out of the school with the other detentionees. But we don’t go towards the parking lot.
Just before I ask him why we’re walking right towards the road, he looks back at me with a grin. “I don’t exactly have a car.”
“Doesn’t seem like you’re the type of person who would be stopped by that.” I observe.
He laughs, and it makes me laugh too. “Nice guess.”
We walk right to the edge of the road, then take the sidewalk away from the school.
“So, do you know where we’re going now?” I ask him.
“Do you?” He reverses the question.
“No.” I answer honestly. He smiles.
“Well neither do I.”
As long as it’s not home, I don’t care, I think to myself. I can feel the bruises on my arms suddenly, and I shiver.
Frank raises an eyebrow with a concerned expression. “You ok?”
I steel myself and answer in a highly defensive tone. “I’m fine.”
Frank eyes me in such an intense way it makes me uncomfortable, and I look away.
“So,” He says, after another moment’s silence. “You gonna tell me why you’re angry now?”
I’m struck by how direct he is again. “Why do you keep asking me that?” I say roughly.
He raises his eyebrows. “Because I wanna know. What’s your story?”
I frown, my eyebrows moving together. “I don’t have a story.”
“Everyone’s got a story.”
“Not me.” I snarl. He looks a little taken back, but it’s enough.
“Just tell me when you’re ready.” Frankie looks me right in the eye. “You do realize you’re gonna tell me eventually, right?”
I exhale roughly. “You never told me why you think I’m angry.”
“You never asked that.” He smirks. “You just asked why I kept asking.” My expression must make him stop.
“I think you’re angry, ‘cause I know what angry looks like.” I’m beginning to think this boy can’t give a straight answer.
“Maybe my angry doesn’t look like the angry you’ve seen.”
“Everyone’s angry is different. I can read it on different people.” He says, and honesty is evident in his tone. His dark hair is floating around his face because of the slight wind.
“Well, maybe you can’t read mine.”
There’s a silence for a moment.
“We’re almost there.”
I look ahead of us for the first time. I see lots of trees, and for a moment, I panic. Maybe he is just like the other boys. Maybe he’s worse.
But he laughs when he sees my face. “It’s the park.” He smiles.
The park? Interesting choice, I think to myself.
“Why here?” I ask, honestly curious.
He smirks. “Why not here?”
I shake my head as I exhale, smiling to myself. Nope. No straight answers.
He takes me past the trees, to a bridge that goes over a stream. He starts to cross it, then stops in the middle.
“What’re you doing?” I ask him when he swings his leg over the side-rail.
Frankie winks. “Follow me.”
I watch with wide eyes as he throws his other leg over, then squats and drops his legs off the side, hanging on by his hands.
“Fuck, Frankie, what’re you doing!?” I yelp.
I hear him laugh, and suddenly, his hands are gone. I lean over the railing, just in time to see him land agilely on the balls of his feet. I exhale, relieved.
“Your turn!” Frankie calls up, beaming.
“You’re joking Frank! It’s ten feet!” I say.
“It’s not ten!” He calls. “It’s only 9 ’11.”
“Not funny Frank!”
“Come on! Jump and I’ll catch you.”
“No effing way!” I say. I walk back towards the front of the bridge.
“Aw come on!” Frank yells. “I promise I’ll catch you.”
“Not a chance.” I go to the front of the bridge to the rocks that will lead me to where Frank is. I leap down them quickly, and jump off once I’m three or four feet from the ground.
“Oh, you won’t jump from there, but you’re gonna run down the rocks and then jump?” Frank says in a sarcastic tone.
“Yep.” I cross to him. “Now where?”
He smiles. “Here.” He walks to under the bridge, and crawls up the side under it. There’s a dry open space about four feet high and eight feet wide.
He flops down on the ground.
“This is it?” I say.
“Yes. Why? Where were you expecting?” He lifts the corner of his mouth.
“I dunno.” I lie down next to him, dropping my bag. “You just didn’t seem like a nature guy.”
“Don’t try and peg me yet…” Frank says. There’s quiet for a moment, and all I can here is his breathing.
“You don’t trust people very much, do you?” He asks.
“What’s with the deep questions?” I say, defensive.
He laughs. “I like to ask them. “
“Yeah. I got that. Why do you think I have trust issues?” I ask.
“You wouldn’t jump to me.”
I snort. “That constitutes trust issues?”
“That, and just what I can guess.”
“Guess?”
“Uhuh.”
“Well, you know what Frankie?” I say, frustrated.
“What?”
“Maybe you should stop trying to read me, ‘cause you’re shit at it.”
I get up, grab my bag and run as fast as I can. I don’t allow myself to think.
It bothers me so much. Because he read me perfectly.
Please, please, please rate and review. I need to decide if it's worth coming up with ideas for the rest of it.
Just before I ask him why we’re walking right towards the road, he looks back at me with a grin. “I don’t exactly have a car.”
“Doesn’t seem like you’re the type of person who would be stopped by that.” I observe.
He laughs, and it makes me laugh too. “Nice guess.”
We walk right to the edge of the road, then take the sidewalk away from the school.
“So, do you know where we’re going now?” I ask him.
“Do you?” He reverses the question.
“No.” I answer honestly. He smiles.
“Well neither do I.”
As long as it’s not home, I don’t care, I think to myself. I can feel the bruises on my arms suddenly, and I shiver.
Frank raises an eyebrow with a concerned expression. “You ok?”
I steel myself and answer in a highly defensive tone. “I’m fine.”
Frank eyes me in such an intense way it makes me uncomfortable, and I look away.
“So,” He says, after another moment’s silence. “You gonna tell me why you’re angry now?”
I’m struck by how direct he is again. “Why do you keep asking me that?” I say roughly.
He raises his eyebrows. “Because I wanna know. What’s your story?”
I frown, my eyebrows moving together. “I don’t have a story.”
“Everyone’s got a story.”
“Not me.” I snarl. He looks a little taken back, but it’s enough.
“Just tell me when you’re ready.” Frankie looks me right in the eye. “You do realize you’re gonna tell me eventually, right?”
I exhale roughly. “You never told me why you think I’m angry.”
“You never asked that.” He smirks. “You just asked why I kept asking.” My expression must make him stop.
“I think you’re angry, ‘cause I know what angry looks like.” I’m beginning to think this boy can’t give a straight answer.
“Maybe my angry doesn’t look like the angry you’ve seen.”
“Everyone’s angry is different. I can read it on different people.” He says, and honesty is evident in his tone. His dark hair is floating around his face because of the slight wind.
“Well, maybe you can’t read mine.”
There’s a silence for a moment.
“We’re almost there.”
I look ahead of us for the first time. I see lots of trees, and for a moment, I panic. Maybe he is just like the other boys. Maybe he’s worse.
But he laughs when he sees my face. “It’s the park.” He smiles.
The park? Interesting choice, I think to myself.
“Why here?” I ask, honestly curious.
He smirks. “Why not here?”
I shake my head as I exhale, smiling to myself. Nope. No straight answers.
He takes me past the trees, to a bridge that goes over a stream. He starts to cross it, then stops in the middle.
“What’re you doing?” I ask him when he swings his leg over the side-rail.
Frankie winks. “Follow me.”
I watch with wide eyes as he throws his other leg over, then squats and drops his legs off the side, hanging on by his hands.
“Fuck, Frankie, what’re you doing!?” I yelp.
I hear him laugh, and suddenly, his hands are gone. I lean over the railing, just in time to see him land agilely on the balls of his feet. I exhale, relieved.
“Your turn!” Frankie calls up, beaming.
“You’re joking Frank! It’s ten feet!” I say.
“It’s not ten!” He calls. “It’s only 9 ’11.”
“Not funny Frank!”
“Come on! Jump and I’ll catch you.”
“No effing way!” I say. I walk back towards the front of the bridge.
“Aw come on!” Frank yells. “I promise I’ll catch you.”
“Not a chance.” I go to the front of the bridge to the rocks that will lead me to where Frank is. I leap down them quickly, and jump off once I’m three or four feet from the ground.
“Oh, you won’t jump from there, but you’re gonna run down the rocks and then jump?” Frank says in a sarcastic tone.
“Yep.” I cross to him. “Now where?”
He smiles. “Here.” He walks to under the bridge, and crawls up the side under it. There’s a dry open space about four feet high and eight feet wide.
He flops down on the ground.
“This is it?” I say.
“Yes. Why? Where were you expecting?” He lifts the corner of his mouth.
“I dunno.” I lie down next to him, dropping my bag. “You just didn’t seem like a nature guy.”
“Don’t try and peg me yet…” Frank says. There’s quiet for a moment, and all I can here is his breathing.
“You don’t trust people very much, do you?” He asks.
“What’s with the deep questions?” I say, defensive.
He laughs. “I like to ask them. “
“Yeah. I got that. Why do you think I have trust issues?” I ask.
“You wouldn’t jump to me.”
I snort. “That constitutes trust issues?”
“That, and just what I can guess.”
“Guess?”
“Uhuh.”
“Well, you know what Frankie?” I say, frustrated.
“What?”
“Maybe you should stop trying to read me, ‘cause you’re shit at it.”
I get up, grab my bag and run as fast as I can. I don’t allow myself to think.
It bothers me so much. Because he read me perfectly.
Please, please, please rate and review. I need to decide if it's worth coming up with ideas for the rest of it.
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