Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Love's Unexpected

Urinals Are A Way of Expressing Love

by KJLucidLove666 0 reviews

Jetta's going through high-school as a popular, but what happens when a bad incident lands her with one of the people she's tormented? R and R please!

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: G - Genres: Angst,Romance - Characters: Gerard Way - Published: 2010-12-27 - Updated: 2010-12-28 - 2568 words

Sorry for those of you who think that this is an update, but I reread this and cringed at all the grammar and sentence issues, so I'm just rewriting it a little. Sorry for all the emails :(
A huge racket coming from my door caused me to lift my head from my blessed pillow.
“Jetta, wake up this instant!” My mom’s voice came through the wooden barrier. I groaned and pulled my pillow over my head, mentally willing her to go away.
It didn’t work, and since she heard my groan of protest, she just got angrier.
“Jetta, I’m not afraid to come in there after you, and if I have to, I’ll make you wish you’d never came out of me!” I cringed at the thought of my birth and sat up, swinging my legs over the side of my bed. I stood slowly, my joints popping and snapping as I went, and made my way across the room.
Rubbing my eyes, I opened the reverberating door, only to find my mom’s fist coming right at my face. I dunked down in time.
“Jeez mom, I’m up for Christ’s sake!”, I shouted as she retracted her arm from above my head. I looked up at her face and saw my confirmation of her drinking. Dark circles and red rimmed eyes gave me a annoyed look. Meanwhile her breath smelled like the dumpster outside of a bar.
“Sorry”, she apologized sarcastically, “But if someone actually woke up on time, then I wouldn’t have to go to the trouble of pounding on your door”. Yep, her hangover was in full swing.
I rolled my eyes and went back into my room as she walked downstairs to the kitchen. My mother is an alcoholic, there’s no nice way to put it. I knew it, she knew it, and it seemed that there was nothing I could do to stop it. She still made money, a lot of it from the insurance company she practically ran, but as soon as she returned home from work, the bottle and cans came out. It probably was caused by my dad leaving us a few years ago. He couldn’t take her anymore than I could.
And I hated him for leaving me with her. She was overbearing, sarcastic, mean, and completely overruling. It made me wonder how the two of them got together in the first place. But the past can’t be changed, and ever since he had packed up and left, she’d been downing alcohol to try and forget about it.
I groaned and flopped back onto my bed, taking a few minutes to fully wake up. It was the first day of senior year for me. I suppose it would have been a happy thing for other high-schoolers, but in my case, it couldn't have been worse.
For years, I’d been trying to crawl my way up to the top of the food-chain my class. I’d been to all cheerleading try-outs, and successfully made it on the team, had been to all the school dances, gotten most of the electives all of the populars had taken, and here I was now. I was going into school with Stacey Drake, the head-cheerleader, and girlfriend of Jack Klick, the captain of the football team, as my best friends. You could say over the summer that I’d joined their little clique by doing a couple favors. Basically doing Stacey’s summer school homework, and helping Jack get into most of my friend’s pants. And through it all, I had been happy doing it because I was becoming popular. And making my mom happy.
She wanted me to go into college and take over the company, and to do that, I had to be friends with the ‘right’ people. If only she knew that the agenda of most of these ‘right’ people consisted of binge-drinking, smoking a few joints, pulling horrible pranks on the school nerds, and having sessions of back-room sex. But I was will to do anything to avoid another rant from my mother.
I walked over to my closet, pulling out a blue and green plaid skirt, and a pink cardigan with a light green camisole. Pulling them on, I got my designer high heels, a must-have for cheerleaders. Then I put on coats of my foundation, mascara, eyeliner, eye-shadow, and blush. I nice, clear skin, but foundation made it look like I had a bit of a tan. The sun in New Belleville hardly shined, and the only way to get even a fake tan was to use a tanning bed. Being claustrophobic, it wasn’t an option, so I used foundation to hide my paleness.
Bright green eyes, with a golden ring around the pupils looked back at me under a layer of blue and green shadow, while pursed cherry red lips pouted at me. My hair was a light reddish brown, coppery in fact, and it curled naturally, making me look like a Irish maiden with my green eyes.
I was hot and I knew it, I strutted over to the door, grabbing my coat and purse as I went. Downstairs, my mother was getting ready, putting eye drops in her eyes, and chewing mint gum like a horse. She was dressed in a conservative business dress, almost like one of those girls in a movie, the ones that got the boss's coffee or was used as a messenger. She looked at me and frowned disapprovingly.
“Curled hair?”, she asked, her eyebrows raised, “You know that straight-hair is in season, what will your friends in school think?”. Sometimes it made me wonder if other moms read teen fashion magazines like she did. I shrugged in response.
“I’ll do it tomorrow, it’s a little late to do anything about it now”, I sighed. She shook her head in annoyance, but stayed silent. She picked up her keys and motioned me to get going. I grabbed a granola bar off out of a cabinet in the kitchen and followed her out the door. A black Volkswagen Bug gleamed at me as I stepped out. My mom had a thing for Bugs, and hopefully this thing was to be mine once she saved up enough money for a new one. There were a few perks to being a company manager's daughter.
I sat in the passenger seat and throughout the ride to school we made small-talk. She asked about my classes, the topic had been gone over enough that I talked between mouthfuls of granola and raisins without emotion. Somewhere in the ride I spaced out and just watched the scenery out my window fly by. She pulled up next to the public school, aka the hell known as Belleville High. I kissed her on the check and got out, barely hearing her say goodbye as I slammed the door.
“Jetta!”, I heard someone call my name and I turned to see Sara, my best friend, and Dana come running up to me. I smiled and we gave each other a small hug. Out of all the cheerleaders, Sara was the most complacent and understanding out of all of them, and we had automatically became friends. Dana Landsbury, on the other hand, was the best-friend of Stacey, completely cruel and pretty. She was the one that came up with most of the pranks we pulled on the geeks and freaks.
“Ohh, I love your outfit today”, I gushed at Sara, she was wearing a complete clothing set. A red button down blazer, with a blue tank top underneath, with a white ruffled skirt under it, the entire outfit was pulled off with a couple of black ankle boots with silver straps.
She grinned at me, “I heard about you and Stacey over the summer, we are practically celebraties, do you know how many guys I’ve gone out with?”, she was over the moon about being friends with Stacey and her group. I hated them, but acted sweet to them all the same. As for boys, a lot of them ask me out too, but all of them were the players from the football team, and I wasn't about to lose my virginity to one of those idiots.
I zoned out again as Sara continued talking about her summer. Three football players were messing with one of the goths of our school. The single goth was talking back to them, practically asking for them to kick his ass. Dana followed my gaze and suddenly grabbed my arm.
“You know Jetta, I’ve never seen you actually tear someone up before”, she whispered to me with an evil smirk, Sara had gone silent and was listening, “Why don’t you go help those nice guys put that emo back in his place”. She gave me a pointed glance and I gulped. I wasn’t a very mean person, insulting people wasn't my thing, but I had to do this, or be ridiculed for it by Dana and Stacey. I smirked at Dana, covering up my nervousness with a non-caring facade.
“Coming right up, watch and learn girls”, I smirked with fake expertise.
Walking up to them, I sized up the goth at hand. Tall, chubby, wearing a black get-up, with greasy long hair the color of motor oil, he looked somewhat disgusting. He had pale skin that showed most of his veins, especially on the back of his hands and arms, and eyes that were shaded by his hair. My confidence grew a little, this was going to be easy.
I walked up and put a hand on one of the football player's shoulders, Taylor Williams.
“What’s up boys, who’s this piece of trash?”, I asked loudly, the goth looked at me, and his frown deepened, while the guys laughed at my question.
“Ah nothing, just this faggot thought he’d hurt my feelings a bit”, Taylor answered me, wrapping an arm around my waist. I fought the urge to smack him, and remained focused on the challenge at hand. We had circled the goth against the wall, making it impossible for him to escape. That was the mind-games we went with, I’d seen Stacey do it a thousand times. You corner them, pull down their self-esteem, and then let the jock take care of the rest.
I frowned at the goth, “And why did you do that to poor Taylor? What did he ever do to you?”, I asked with a fake pout. The jocks chuckled at me. The goth made a low sound.
“I don’t need to be examined by a fake bitch like you”, he ground out at me. The bitch part hurt, but I pushed past it. Grabbing Taylor’s shoulder as he went forward to hit the punk, I cocked my head, feigning pity.
“Poor insignificant person, to think that being called a bitch would hurt me”, I said with a small grin and went on, “Do you know how bad you look right now, and how worse you’re going to look after Taylor here gets an apology out of you?”, I asked rhetorically. But he answered nonetheless.
“I know that Taylor and you all can kiss my ass, and you little cheerleader”, he looked up at me, “Can suck me off while their doing it”. He smirked a little, but the grin faded as I whispered a request into Taylors ear. He agreed with a chuckle and I turned back to the goth.
“I’ll suck you off once you get out”, I smiled, and walked away from the circle, hearing the noises of a fight arise as I went. The teachers weren’t on duty yet, so my request would hopefully be made without interference.
Dana and Sarah came over to me and we watched as the jocks herded the now bloody and bruising goth into the school. They’d have to go into the janitor’s closet to get the utensils I’d asked for.
“Where are they taking him?”, Sara asked me, her voice quiet. I smirked at her.
“They’re just taking him to the boy's bathroom”, I shrugged innocently, then my grin came back, “And locking him in there, with his hands tied around the urinal, making him basically kiss it, after flushing his head of course”, I said with a small laugh at the end. It took a few seconds for the message to sink in, but in the end Dana praised me.
“Nice work, I knew you were one of us!”, she congratulated me. With our arms intertwined, we walked into the school to find Stacey. Around five minutes before the bell rang, after we’d gone to our lockers and were just pussy-footing outside of our homeroom, the goth guy came up to me. His greasy locks were damp, and his wrists were red, probably from whatever the jocks had used to tie him up. He marched right up to my face.
His hair was still covering his eyes and he towered over. However I stood unfazed as he started yelling at me. He had a nice voice it turned out, just a little girly as it rose in anger.
“You fucking whore!”, he bellowed, “I know it was you who told them to stick me in there! Do you know what they did to me, out of all the slutty cheerleaders here, you have to be the worst of them all", he insulted me. I grinned triumphantly, and the jocks of my homeroom we’re coming up to him. He was outnumbered, so there was nothing he could do to me for revenge.
I gloated, “And what are you going to do about it? It’s the food-chain of high-school, get used to it freak!”, I told him. He growled, his hands curling in and out in anger, but after eyeing the people around us, he shook his head and walked away.
“Who was that creep Jetta?”, Josh spoke up, he had been one of the nicer jocks that had asked me out. He was cute, but extremely dim.
“Just a person I pranked this morning." I dismissed the incident with a wave of my hand. They nodded and dispersed as the bell rang. The goth had been a great way to land myself a concrete spot with Dana and Stacey, and now I ruled the school. The girls of my homeroom looked to me with hate and jealousy, and now the guys looked at me with winking eyes and cat calls. It all made me feel wanted, and I supposed it substituted for my mother’s approval, but it all felt wrong. But it was my life and I had to go with the flow if I wanted to survive. Little did I know that flow was going to change course in a dramatic way.
[*Okay, just to get things straight, the pranked goth was Gerard. I know it was a bad thing to do, but it had to be done to tell the story and make it interesting. Please R and R, but no flames please, comments about grammar are appreciated, but no flames! OR I SHALL SIC MY HAMSTER ON YOU! Beware! His name’s Fluff and he will eat your foot!
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