Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Quicksand

Makes-No-Sense Excuse

by wheresyourheart 1 review

A field trip to the state capital.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: G - Genres: Angst,Drama,Romance - Characters: Gerard Way - Warnings: [!!] - Published: 2008-06-14 - Updated: 2008-06-14 - 725 words

Only weeks after working with Gerard, (we were still working on that stupidass project) I realized that I, in fact, liked me and knew that he liked me back. It was the way he joked with me, smiled at me, said hello in the hallway, and the way he'd playfully hit me on the shoulder.

One day in science, when Charline wasn't there, I had said, right to his face, "I think you like me."

He raised one eyebrow, which was something I've always wished I could do, and sarcastically said, "Don't flatter yourself."

I just looked at him, with my eyebrows raised and my mouth forming a smirk, as his cheeks reddened a bit. I had figured Gerard Way out.

I can't even remember how much longer after that day it had taken for my first attempt at asking him out. Days, a week. Maybe it had even been that same day.

"You," I told Cassie, scribbling quickly on a peice of paper, my heart racing, "Give this to Gerard."

"He hates me," She pointed out, "He won't take it."

"Just tell him to call me," I said, handing her the note and lightly pushing her along.

"He's not going to believe me," She said, so I pushed her harder towards the school's staircase, which Gerard was climbing down to leave on the bus. "Hurry."

Cassie sighed, giving in, "Fine."

My smile was huge, "Thanks so much, Cass."

On the note I had left my phone number and told him to call. Oh, and that I liked him. But he never called. I should have know he wasn't going to, and I was starting to doubt my gut feeling of Gerard Way liking me.

The next morning I woke up extra early and packed my lunch, since we had a feild trip (which is now called an ECE, or Extended Classroom Expirience) to Trenton, the state capitol.

We met in homeroom and Gerard talked to me like no note had been given to him, and I wondered if Cassie had even passed it along to him, but said nothing. I acted just as normal as him.

The ride there, I listened to my CD player (this was just before the big iPod-breakout). It was a mixed CD that my cousin had made me, and I didn't actually like the music, but figured if I listened to it enough I would start to. Back then, I wanted to be just like my cousin. She was sixteen, pretty, popular, cool, and I wished I was just like her.

Finally, after two and a half hours of riding on a stuffy bus, we pulled into a parking lot and were at the Maine State Museum. We were going here first, then off to watch people discuss laws or whatever.

I was in Gerard's group. Him and I joked about an old fashion car horn that had a sign next to it reading, 'Please Toot'. Then, when we were near a display with fake scenary, fake deers, fake raccoons, fake birds, a big fake moose and a fake river, it was just him and me and he pulled out a small folded peice of paper.

"Did you write this?" he asked, showing it to me. It was the note.

I looked at him and nodded. So Cassie had followed through.

"I thought so, but I wasn't too sure. I thought Cassie was just messing with me and being a bitch."

I sighed, "Cassie really isn't bad, if you'd give her the chance." One of the things I hated about Gerard was that he hated everyone, unless he really knew them and they'd proven themselves a good friend.

"Well, anyway, I like you," he said, quietly. My heart sped up. This was it. "Except that I can't go out with you. I'm too busy with helping my mom move to a new house."

Okay, just kidding, this wasn't it. And it was also the stupidest, makes-no-sense excuse I'd ever heard. What was he afraid of?

"Oh. Okay," I said, bummed out. I hadn't let it show, and it didn't matter, because things would turn soon enough.

I feel like this chapter is a bit boring. Reviews?
And, oh my god, when I was typing this I kept on writing 'Cody', probably because this like same thing happened with us.
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