Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Dead on the surface (but screaming underneath)
Chapter 2 - Where Victorian ghosts pray, for their curses to be broken
3 reviewsGerard smirks. “You like flying guts and zombies?” Frank blushes, but smiles back. “Of course I do. Nothing’s better than a good old-fashioned zombie killing spree.”, he says, making Ger...
1Original
I’m terribly sorry for updating this late. I’ve been sick these past few weeks and haven’t been able to even look at my laptop for more than 10 minutes. I hope this sort of long (2700+ words) update makes up for it. Oh, and excuse me for any mistakes. English isn’t my first language.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
Gerard is kind of in teacher-love. Mr. Bease is awesome. Gerard’s first assignment is to draw ‘whatever he wants’ and since it’s his first assignment he’ll ‘probably just get an A’. Has he already mentioned that Mr. Bease was awesome? Because, well. Awesome.
So, Gerard decides to draw some good, old-fashioned gore. It’s pretty gross already, with flesh and guts flying around more and more (in the drawing. Obviously.) as the hour progresses. Gerard puts himself and Mikey in the middle, Mikey holding an enormous chainsaw and giving himself an axe. Mikey is halfway through a zombie’s neck in the drawing and Gerard appears to be stomping on a zombie-hand. Kind of like It from the Addams Family, but evil.
Gerard gets so lost in his drawing that he doesn’t notice his teacher talking to him when the end of the hour is just a few minutes away. So lost, in fact, that Mr. Bease has to shake his arm to get his attention.
“Gerard!”
Gerard sits up straight so quickly that it hurts his spine. He looks up, startled. “It’s time already?” Damn, he thinks, double chemistry next. My life sucks so bad. He doesn’t notice that his face morphs from ‘kind of scared’ into ‘really fucking frustrated’ while he thinks about his horrible teenage life.
Mr. Bease raises his eyebrows at his change in demeanor, but doesn’t mention it. He smiles at Gerard. “No, not yet; we still have a few more minutes to kill. I just wanted to see what you’ve been up to this lesson,” he says. He seems genuinely interested in his drawing, so Gerard feels okay about leaving it on the table while he stands up to grab his bag.
He was expecting the surprised noise he hears, but he turns around anyway. The disgusted face he thinks he is going to see isn’t there, though. Mr. Bease seems to like his gore fest.
“Oh my Gerard, this is great!”, he exclaims. “The detail, the shading, it’s all perfect. The thing I love most of all, though-“
Mr. Bease doesn’t get to finish his sentence though, because the door opens and a humming dark-haired boy walks through carrying an art folder and a bag covered in buttons. Gerard also sees two tiny holes in his nose and lip. Piercings.. Nice, Gerard thinks. Very nice.
The boy apparently hasn’t noticed his presence yet and the humming turns into soft singing.
“There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship's smoke on the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move
But I can't hear what you're saying..”
Gerard instantly recognizes it as Pink Floyd. He loves this mysterious guy already.
“Frank!” The boy (Frank, his name is Frank) instantly stops singing when Mr. Bease says his name and his eyes widen when he sees that Gerard is there as well.
Mr. Bease does not seem to notice the awkwardness in the air and pushes Gerard forward. “Frank, this is Gerard, your new classmate. Now you won’t be the only one here every day! Isn’t that great?” Frank nods hesitantly without taking his eyes off of Gerard. “And Gerard, this is Frank. He’s the student I mentioned before.” Gerard smiles at Frank.
“Hey,” he says. Frank’s eyes widen even more (how is that even possible?). He curtly waves back with the hand not holding his art stuff, but he doesn’t say anything. His eyes don’t leave Gerard’s face, but his small body (not that Gerard isn’t small, but this guy is seriously short) seems to turn into itself even more now.
His art folder falls from his loosening grip as he continues to stare at Gerard, but it hitting the floor breaks the spell. Frank flushes bright red and quickly drops to the floor to pick up the drawings that have escaped the confines of the folder.
Gerard drops to his knees and (while seeing every high school movie ever flash before his eyes because God, cliché) picks up a few of Frank’s drawings. His style is a bit more technical and choppy than Gerard’s, but it’s dark and broody at the same time. The drawing he’s looking at now is of a few crows, black wings ragged and beady eyes staring right at him. It’s awesome.
Frank turns an even darker shade of red as Gerard hands him the pile. “Thanks”, he says softly.
Gerard smiles at the cuteness of this guy. “No problem.”
Mr. Bease clears his throat and both Gerard and Frank quickly rise to their feet. “Well, I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says with a raised eyebrow, “but class is almost over. Normally I just look at Frank’s assignment and give him my opinion, but since there’s two of you now you can judge each other’s creations!” Mr. Bease claps his hands once and points to the table behind them.
“Boys, sit over there and give each other your art folder. Make it quick though, we’ve got about 2 minutes left now, “ he says while walking to his desk and picking up his bag.
Frank immediately sits down and gently puts his art folder down in front of the empty seat next to him. Gerard smiles and follows suit, doing the same to his art folder. As Frank opens his folder, Gerard does the same to Frank’s. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but certainly not this. The drawing isn’t finished yet, but the outlines seem to be done. Gerard recognizes it as the graveyard behind the church near his house; the gravestones old and crumbling, the paths overgrown. The sun is almost gone, leaving the sky purple-red. It’s not the graveyard itself that catches Gerard’s attention, though: It’s the dancing couple right in the middle of it all. The man is wearing a black tuxedo with a blood red tie, and the woman is wearing a dress in the same red color. While his tuxedo is fraying at the seams, her dress seems like it’s brand new. His face seems older, too; He must be approaching the age of 40, while she doesn’t look a day older than 18. The man’s cheeks are glistening with tears, but the woman just has a tiny smile on her face and her eyes are closed. It makes her seem.. Peaceful. Serene.
At first G doesn’t understand why, but then he sees them; slightly darker red smudges on the dress, surrounding her heart. Her lily white skin seems to have a grey hue and her bare feet aren’t touching the ground.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?”, he says while turning his head to look at the guy sitting next to him.
“Yes,” Frank answers. He doesn’t look up from Gerard’s drawing. “She was killed by his family on the day of their wedding, because they thought she wasn’t good enough for them. He was devastated because of it. She was his one true love, his soulmate. He wears the same tuxedo every year on the day of her death.”
Gerard is mesmerized. “Can he see her?”, he asks.
Frank shakes his head. “No. He performs her favorite dance in front of her grave every time, without knowing that she’s actually there with him. She can’t go on without him, so she waits every year for him to come and dance with her. When he dies and finds his final resting place beside her, then she will finally be at peace.”
Gerard smiles at the answer. “It’s beautiful,” he says softly. “And the story behind it makes me want to cry, but in a good way.”
That makes Frank look up. “Really?” Gerard nods. Frank smiles. “I’m glad you think so. Your drawing is amazing as well, though. I mean, zombies? Awesome. It’s all really detailed, especially the flying guts and everything.”
Gerard smirks. “You like flying guts and zombies?”
Frank blushes, but smiles back. “Of course I do. Nothing’s better than a good old-fashioned zombie killing spree.”, he says, making Gerard laugh.
“Absolutely.”
*
As Frank exits the classroom, he feels a hand come down on his shoulder. He almost jumps at the touch, but he refrains. Stop. Freaking. Out, he thinks. Gerard seems like a nice guy. Don’t scare him off.
“Hey, Frank?”, Gerard says. Frank turns around to look at him. With his long, messy black hair framing his face and his green eyes lined in black, Gerard looks like no one Frank has ever seen before. He finds himself just wanting to stare at his new classmate. What the fuck is wrong with me?, he thinks while casting his gaze down and staring at his and Gerard’s shoes. They’re both wearing black converse, but Gerard’s are covered in what appears to be fake blood.
“Nice shoes”, Frank mumbles. When he hears Gerard’s “thanks” in response, he blushes. Did I say that out loud?
“Anyway,” Gerard continues. “Mr. Bease said that my new locker is in the same row as yours. Would you mind showing me where it is?” Frank looks at his face again, and he’s smiling hopefully.
Normally, Frank would say he’s in a hurry, apologize and quickly walk away. People never approach him without an ulterior motive, such as the locker fiasco in sophomore year. As it turns out, the new guys Jake and Tim didn’t need directions to the closest bathroom. They just wanted to see if he’d fit into a locker (which he did, of course. He wasn’t exactly tall).
However, he doesn’t feel as awkward around Gerard as around everyone else. Sure, he’s still not exactly social (his middle name is Awkward) but he feels like he could trust this guy not to screw him over.
Wouldn’t exactly mind him screwing me over, though..
Oh my god. Stop thinking dirty shit like that. He’s right in front of you, for fuck’s sake. Besides, you’re a scrawny 15-year old and he’s a hot senior. Stop dreaming.
An almost 16-year old, though.. And as far as he’s concerned, I’m 18. Senior, motherfucker.
“Um, Frank?”
Frank is startled out of his inner dialogue by Gerard waving a hand in front of his face. “Are you okay?”
Gerard seems genuinely concerned and Frank feels like a pervert. So, he does the only thing he’s socially good at; stammer out a weird answer and die slowly and painfully from the inside out.
“Um.. Y-yeah, fine? I’m fine, r-really,” he answers. Gerard raises his eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Thank god, Frank thinks. Then he remembers the original question.
“Oh, right! Lockers! Right this way!”, he says quickly and scurries off, not even waiting to see if Gerard follows. He can’t stand his own social incapability anymore and all he wants to do right now is bash his face into his locker. Of course, that would probably make Gerard doubt his sanity even more.. Keep it cool, Frank. Keep your inner nerd inside your brain and act normal for once! Maybe this guy will want to hang around you for longer than an hour every day if you keep it up.
Frank isn’t so sure, though.
*
“So.. What’s your locker number?”, Frank asks as they approach the locker block. Normal. I can do normal, he thinks.
Gerard pulls a folder paper out of the pocket of his (very nice and tight- oh my god, shut úp brain) jeans. “Umm.. 1126? Is that here?” Gerard looks confused, which is understandable. The lockers here don’t have their number on the outside, but on the inside of the door. Why, Frank doesn’t know.
He walks up to the locker with the beat-up red door and taps his fingers on it. “This is 1126. Mine is the blue one, 1123.”
Gerard walks up to the locker too and smiles at Frank, before trying to open his locker with his combination. Not gonna work.., Frank thinks. The locks on these lockers are old and worn, so it takes an experienced hand (read: a lot of pulling, pushing and mumbling obscenities) to open one.
Sure enough, after walking to his own locker and grabbing his lunch, he hears a frustrated grunt. Frank smiles to himself, but schools his expression into a more serious one before turning to face Gerard. “Everything alright?”
Gerard grimaces and kicks his locker. “No. Fucking thing won’t open,” he says. Seeing Gerard’s frustrated face makes Frank smile despite trying to keep it together.
“Need some help?”
Gerard looks back at Frank with a hopeful face and a small smile. “Maybe?”, he says.
Even though Frank knows that he shouldn’t get his hopes up about this guy, he can’t help it. Gerard just acts so normal around him, instead of the whole pariah-thing he’s got going on with the rest of the school. Frank doesn’t really know what to do with himself. He’s only known about this guy’s existence for 10 minutes or so, and yet he’s already imagining what it’ll be like to be friends with him. Frank just can’t stop thinking about what to do.
Should I befriend him?
Should I avoid him?
Should I get close to him?
Should I ignore him?
Should I give up my loneliness?
Should I give up my solidarity?
Should I try it for a guy I don’t know at all?
Should I take the risk?
It seems like a difficult question at first for him, but when he looks at the guy in front of him he knows he’s not the same as the other people in this school. Gerard, the guy with guyliner and fake blood on his shoes who draws zombies because he likes them.
Frank holds his hand out, still smiling. “Can I have your locker combination?”, he asks. “These lockers don’t take so well to new people. I’ll give it a try, okay?”
Gerard starts to move his arm forward, but then he pulls it back abruptly and smirks. “But if you know my locker combination, it’s only fair that I know yours, right?”
Frank’s smile falters, but he tries not to let it show. Oh my god. I can’t do that. He could steal my books or ruin my drawings. I don’t even know this guy!
Gerard notices, though. His smirk is replaced by a worried look. “I’m sorry for asking that. I’m just being ridiculous.. Could you, like, forget I said that and just help me?” He stretches his arm out again, holding out the little piece of paper.
Okay, take a deep breath.. Guy's not gonna punch you in the nose. Not now, anyway. Just help him out.
Frank steps closer to Gerard, ignoring his probably reddening cheeks, and takes the paper. “Uh, sure, no problem,” he says before turning to face the old locker. He unfolds the scrap and turns the little wheel.
“4.. 1.. 3.. and 6. Oh, and if it doesn’t open you just have to bang it with your shoulder a couple of times. It’ll probably open then.” Frank gives Gerard a thumbs-up (Stop being lame, oh god) and bends down to grab his bag. While Gerard dumps some of his books and thanks him (“Thanks man, without your help I would’ve been walking with a crick in my back by the end of the day”) Frank rips a page out of his notebook and writes something on it. He folds it in half and, when Gerard is busy with the strap of his bag, he quickly pushes it through one of the gaps in Gerard’s locker.
“Hey, Gerard? Do you want to eat lunch with me?”, he asks. Gerard looks up and smiles.
“I’d love to. Where’s the cafeteria?” Gerard shoulders his bag and starts walking with Frank next to him.
Frank laughs nervously. “Well.. I don’t exactly eat lunch there. I go to the library most of the times. I hope you don’t mind?” Way to make him see what a complete loser you are.
Gerard doesn’t mock him, though. He smiles at Frank. “I used to eat there too at my old school. My little brother Mikey would join me occasionally, but he’s a lot better at socializing than me. He’s probably found a couple new best friends already, so he probably won’t mind if I don’t have lunch with him.”
Frank had wondered who the other person in Gerard’s drawing had been, but this answers his question. He’s always wanted a sibling, but his parents divorced shortly after his birth. He hated being an only child when he was younger, but he’s accepted it. Seeing Gerard talk about his brother with such fondness still stings a little bit, though.
F opens the door to the back of the library and holds it open for Gerard. “Well, let’s eat then.” Gerard walks to one of the tables and takes out his lunch.
Should he take the risk?
Frank closes the door and takes a seat next to him.
I guess it’s worth a shot.
Thank you for reading!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
Gerard is kind of in teacher-love. Mr. Bease is awesome. Gerard’s first assignment is to draw ‘whatever he wants’ and since it’s his first assignment he’ll ‘probably just get an A’. Has he already mentioned that Mr. Bease was awesome? Because, well. Awesome.
So, Gerard decides to draw some good, old-fashioned gore. It’s pretty gross already, with flesh and guts flying around more and more (in the drawing. Obviously.) as the hour progresses. Gerard puts himself and Mikey in the middle, Mikey holding an enormous chainsaw and giving himself an axe. Mikey is halfway through a zombie’s neck in the drawing and Gerard appears to be stomping on a zombie-hand. Kind of like It from the Addams Family, but evil.
Gerard gets so lost in his drawing that he doesn’t notice his teacher talking to him when the end of the hour is just a few minutes away. So lost, in fact, that Mr. Bease has to shake his arm to get his attention.
“Gerard!”
Gerard sits up straight so quickly that it hurts his spine. He looks up, startled. “It’s time already?” Damn, he thinks, double chemistry next. My life sucks so bad. He doesn’t notice that his face morphs from ‘kind of scared’ into ‘really fucking frustrated’ while he thinks about his horrible teenage life.
Mr. Bease raises his eyebrows at his change in demeanor, but doesn’t mention it. He smiles at Gerard. “No, not yet; we still have a few more minutes to kill. I just wanted to see what you’ve been up to this lesson,” he says. He seems genuinely interested in his drawing, so Gerard feels okay about leaving it on the table while he stands up to grab his bag.
He was expecting the surprised noise he hears, but he turns around anyway. The disgusted face he thinks he is going to see isn’t there, though. Mr. Bease seems to like his gore fest.
“Oh my Gerard, this is great!”, he exclaims. “The detail, the shading, it’s all perfect. The thing I love most of all, though-“
Mr. Bease doesn’t get to finish his sentence though, because the door opens and a humming dark-haired boy walks through carrying an art folder and a bag covered in buttons. Gerard also sees two tiny holes in his nose and lip. Piercings.. Nice, Gerard thinks. Very nice.
The boy apparently hasn’t noticed his presence yet and the humming turns into soft singing.
“There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship's smoke on the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move
But I can't hear what you're saying..”
Gerard instantly recognizes it as Pink Floyd. He loves this mysterious guy already.
“Frank!” The boy (Frank, his name is Frank) instantly stops singing when Mr. Bease says his name and his eyes widen when he sees that Gerard is there as well.
Mr. Bease does not seem to notice the awkwardness in the air and pushes Gerard forward. “Frank, this is Gerard, your new classmate. Now you won’t be the only one here every day! Isn’t that great?” Frank nods hesitantly without taking his eyes off of Gerard. “And Gerard, this is Frank. He’s the student I mentioned before.” Gerard smiles at Frank.
“Hey,” he says. Frank’s eyes widen even more (how is that even possible?). He curtly waves back with the hand not holding his art stuff, but he doesn’t say anything. His eyes don’t leave Gerard’s face, but his small body (not that Gerard isn’t small, but this guy is seriously short) seems to turn into itself even more now.
His art folder falls from his loosening grip as he continues to stare at Gerard, but it hitting the floor breaks the spell. Frank flushes bright red and quickly drops to the floor to pick up the drawings that have escaped the confines of the folder.
Gerard drops to his knees and (while seeing every high school movie ever flash before his eyes because God, cliché) picks up a few of Frank’s drawings. His style is a bit more technical and choppy than Gerard’s, but it’s dark and broody at the same time. The drawing he’s looking at now is of a few crows, black wings ragged and beady eyes staring right at him. It’s awesome.
Frank turns an even darker shade of red as Gerard hands him the pile. “Thanks”, he says softly.
Gerard smiles at the cuteness of this guy. “No problem.”
Mr. Bease clears his throat and both Gerard and Frank quickly rise to their feet. “Well, I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says with a raised eyebrow, “but class is almost over. Normally I just look at Frank’s assignment and give him my opinion, but since there’s two of you now you can judge each other’s creations!” Mr. Bease claps his hands once and points to the table behind them.
“Boys, sit over there and give each other your art folder. Make it quick though, we’ve got about 2 minutes left now, “ he says while walking to his desk and picking up his bag.
Frank immediately sits down and gently puts his art folder down in front of the empty seat next to him. Gerard smiles and follows suit, doing the same to his art folder. As Frank opens his folder, Gerard does the same to Frank’s. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but certainly not this. The drawing isn’t finished yet, but the outlines seem to be done. Gerard recognizes it as the graveyard behind the church near his house; the gravestones old and crumbling, the paths overgrown. The sun is almost gone, leaving the sky purple-red. It’s not the graveyard itself that catches Gerard’s attention, though: It’s the dancing couple right in the middle of it all. The man is wearing a black tuxedo with a blood red tie, and the woman is wearing a dress in the same red color. While his tuxedo is fraying at the seams, her dress seems like it’s brand new. His face seems older, too; He must be approaching the age of 40, while she doesn’t look a day older than 18. The man’s cheeks are glistening with tears, but the woman just has a tiny smile on her face and her eyes are closed. It makes her seem.. Peaceful. Serene.
At first G doesn’t understand why, but then he sees them; slightly darker red smudges on the dress, surrounding her heart. Her lily white skin seems to have a grey hue and her bare feet aren’t touching the ground.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?”, he says while turning his head to look at the guy sitting next to him.
“Yes,” Frank answers. He doesn’t look up from Gerard’s drawing. “She was killed by his family on the day of their wedding, because they thought she wasn’t good enough for them. He was devastated because of it. She was his one true love, his soulmate. He wears the same tuxedo every year on the day of her death.”
Gerard is mesmerized. “Can he see her?”, he asks.
Frank shakes his head. “No. He performs her favorite dance in front of her grave every time, without knowing that she’s actually there with him. She can’t go on without him, so she waits every year for him to come and dance with her. When he dies and finds his final resting place beside her, then she will finally be at peace.”
Gerard smiles at the answer. “It’s beautiful,” he says softly. “And the story behind it makes me want to cry, but in a good way.”
That makes Frank look up. “Really?” Gerard nods. Frank smiles. “I’m glad you think so. Your drawing is amazing as well, though. I mean, zombies? Awesome. It’s all really detailed, especially the flying guts and everything.”
Gerard smirks. “You like flying guts and zombies?”
Frank blushes, but smiles back. “Of course I do. Nothing’s better than a good old-fashioned zombie killing spree.”, he says, making Gerard laugh.
“Absolutely.”
*
As Frank exits the classroom, he feels a hand come down on his shoulder. He almost jumps at the touch, but he refrains. Stop. Freaking. Out, he thinks. Gerard seems like a nice guy. Don’t scare him off.
“Hey, Frank?”, Gerard says. Frank turns around to look at him. With his long, messy black hair framing his face and his green eyes lined in black, Gerard looks like no one Frank has ever seen before. He finds himself just wanting to stare at his new classmate. What the fuck is wrong with me?, he thinks while casting his gaze down and staring at his and Gerard’s shoes. They’re both wearing black converse, but Gerard’s are covered in what appears to be fake blood.
“Nice shoes”, Frank mumbles. When he hears Gerard’s “thanks” in response, he blushes. Did I say that out loud?
“Anyway,” Gerard continues. “Mr. Bease said that my new locker is in the same row as yours. Would you mind showing me where it is?” Frank looks at his face again, and he’s smiling hopefully.
Normally, Frank would say he’s in a hurry, apologize and quickly walk away. People never approach him without an ulterior motive, such as the locker fiasco in sophomore year. As it turns out, the new guys Jake and Tim didn’t need directions to the closest bathroom. They just wanted to see if he’d fit into a locker (which he did, of course. He wasn’t exactly tall).
However, he doesn’t feel as awkward around Gerard as around everyone else. Sure, he’s still not exactly social (his middle name is Awkward) but he feels like he could trust this guy not to screw him over.
Wouldn’t exactly mind him screwing me over, though..
Oh my god. Stop thinking dirty shit like that. He’s right in front of you, for fuck’s sake. Besides, you’re a scrawny 15-year old and he’s a hot senior. Stop dreaming.
An almost 16-year old, though.. And as far as he’s concerned, I’m 18. Senior, motherfucker.
“Um, Frank?”
Frank is startled out of his inner dialogue by Gerard waving a hand in front of his face. “Are you okay?”
Gerard seems genuinely concerned and Frank feels like a pervert. So, he does the only thing he’s socially good at; stammer out a weird answer and die slowly and painfully from the inside out.
“Um.. Y-yeah, fine? I’m fine, r-really,” he answers. Gerard raises his eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Thank god, Frank thinks. Then he remembers the original question.
“Oh, right! Lockers! Right this way!”, he says quickly and scurries off, not even waiting to see if Gerard follows. He can’t stand his own social incapability anymore and all he wants to do right now is bash his face into his locker. Of course, that would probably make Gerard doubt his sanity even more.. Keep it cool, Frank. Keep your inner nerd inside your brain and act normal for once! Maybe this guy will want to hang around you for longer than an hour every day if you keep it up.
Frank isn’t so sure, though.
*
“So.. What’s your locker number?”, Frank asks as they approach the locker block. Normal. I can do normal, he thinks.
Gerard pulls a folder paper out of the pocket of his (very nice and tight- oh my god, shut úp brain) jeans. “Umm.. 1126? Is that here?” Gerard looks confused, which is understandable. The lockers here don’t have their number on the outside, but on the inside of the door. Why, Frank doesn’t know.
He walks up to the locker with the beat-up red door and taps his fingers on it. “This is 1126. Mine is the blue one, 1123.”
Gerard walks up to the locker too and smiles at Frank, before trying to open his locker with his combination. Not gonna work.., Frank thinks. The locks on these lockers are old and worn, so it takes an experienced hand (read: a lot of pulling, pushing and mumbling obscenities) to open one.
Sure enough, after walking to his own locker and grabbing his lunch, he hears a frustrated grunt. Frank smiles to himself, but schools his expression into a more serious one before turning to face Gerard. “Everything alright?”
Gerard grimaces and kicks his locker. “No. Fucking thing won’t open,” he says. Seeing Gerard’s frustrated face makes Frank smile despite trying to keep it together.
“Need some help?”
Gerard looks back at Frank with a hopeful face and a small smile. “Maybe?”, he says.
Even though Frank knows that he shouldn’t get his hopes up about this guy, he can’t help it. Gerard just acts so normal around him, instead of the whole pariah-thing he’s got going on with the rest of the school. Frank doesn’t really know what to do with himself. He’s only known about this guy’s existence for 10 minutes or so, and yet he’s already imagining what it’ll be like to be friends with him. Frank just can’t stop thinking about what to do.
Should I befriend him?
Should I avoid him?
Should I get close to him?
Should I ignore him?
Should I give up my loneliness?
Should I give up my solidarity?
Should I try it for a guy I don’t know at all?
Should I take the risk?
It seems like a difficult question at first for him, but when he looks at the guy in front of him he knows he’s not the same as the other people in this school. Gerard, the guy with guyliner and fake blood on his shoes who draws zombies because he likes them.
Frank holds his hand out, still smiling. “Can I have your locker combination?”, he asks. “These lockers don’t take so well to new people. I’ll give it a try, okay?”
Gerard starts to move his arm forward, but then he pulls it back abruptly and smirks. “But if you know my locker combination, it’s only fair that I know yours, right?”
Frank’s smile falters, but he tries not to let it show. Oh my god. I can’t do that. He could steal my books or ruin my drawings. I don’t even know this guy!
Gerard notices, though. His smirk is replaced by a worried look. “I’m sorry for asking that. I’m just being ridiculous.. Could you, like, forget I said that and just help me?” He stretches his arm out again, holding out the little piece of paper.
Okay, take a deep breath.. Guy's not gonna punch you in the nose. Not now, anyway. Just help him out.
Frank steps closer to Gerard, ignoring his probably reddening cheeks, and takes the paper. “Uh, sure, no problem,” he says before turning to face the old locker. He unfolds the scrap and turns the little wheel.
“4.. 1.. 3.. and 6. Oh, and if it doesn’t open you just have to bang it with your shoulder a couple of times. It’ll probably open then.” Frank gives Gerard a thumbs-up (Stop being lame, oh god) and bends down to grab his bag. While Gerard dumps some of his books and thanks him (“Thanks man, without your help I would’ve been walking with a crick in my back by the end of the day”) Frank rips a page out of his notebook and writes something on it. He folds it in half and, when Gerard is busy with the strap of his bag, he quickly pushes it through one of the gaps in Gerard’s locker.
“Hey, Gerard? Do you want to eat lunch with me?”, he asks. Gerard looks up and smiles.
“I’d love to. Where’s the cafeteria?” Gerard shoulders his bag and starts walking with Frank next to him.
Frank laughs nervously. “Well.. I don’t exactly eat lunch there. I go to the library most of the times. I hope you don’t mind?” Way to make him see what a complete loser you are.
Gerard doesn’t mock him, though. He smiles at Frank. “I used to eat there too at my old school. My little brother Mikey would join me occasionally, but he’s a lot better at socializing than me. He’s probably found a couple new best friends already, so he probably won’t mind if I don’t have lunch with him.”
Frank had wondered who the other person in Gerard’s drawing had been, but this answers his question. He’s always wanted a sibling, but his parents divorced shortly after his birth. He hated being an only child when he was younger, but he’s accepted it. Seeing Gerard talk about his brother with such fondness still stings a little bit, though.
F opens the door to the back of the library and holds it open for Gerard. “Well, let’s eat then.” Gerard walks to one of the tables and takes out his lunch.
Should he take the risk?
Frank closes the door and takes a seat next to him.
I guess it’s worth a shot.
Thank you for reading!
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