Dear Frankie, Join Me in This Love You Call Hate
Seven
A/N okay, seeing as I've been away for a while and haven't updated, I've got a bit of a long chapter for yooouu. Enjoy =]
"Where'd you fucking go?" I was met with as soon as I entered mine and Mikey's dorm. Also, with a very crumbly substance smacking me right in the face.
"What the-" I closed the door behind me carefully and then, to make sure I wasn't going to be hit with anything else, carefully and with my hands raised slightly near my face, turned and walked to the centre of the room. "Mikey, seriously I can't come into our room without being hit with-" I stopped and looked down onto my chest, where bread crumbs lay. I followed the trail and sure enough saw sightings of the weapon: a slice of bread half covered with jam. "Bread?"
Mikey giggled and shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry man...It's been 5 minutes since the bell rung" His long fingers clasped tightly around the cup he was holding and shuffled about on his seat with apprehension.
In silence, I stood looking down at him with amusement. He really had it bad. I was the new kid and he was my protector. To stop myself from laughing at him, I bit down on the edge of my tongue. I just shrugged my shoudlers in response.
"It doesn't take 5 minutes to get from the class to here" He carried on.
"Mikey, I was talking to people. Why are you so protective anyway?" I asked, now moving over to my bed where my suitcase lay under it. I had yet to unpack everything, therfore all my belongings still remained in the case. Just as I was bending down, my knee gave out a loud crunch causing my eyes to slam shut and a shiver to erupt up my spine.
"Because...well I don't know. I don't want you getting into trouble alright" I carried on sifting into the darkness the be the space under my bed when I finally found the rough material of my suitcase, and with one hard pull, I managed to fall back onto my arse but successfully retrieving my case.
"I'm not getting into trouble" I finally responded. My brows furrowed as to why my case was so light so I quickly unzipped the metal clasp and chucked open the lid. Emptiness. My suitcase had been emptied.
"Gerard's in your class" Mikey stated out.
"Mhmmm, Mikey why is my case empty?"
"Don't change the subject, I unpacked everything for you and put it into that wardrobe over there" He pointed out to the large oak wardrobe standing in the corner and took a sip from his cup. "Were you talking to Gerard?" He pressed on. I inhaled deeply and wandered over to the cabinet, feeling distressed at Mikey's mothering to me. Okay, he was looking out for me and I completely accepted that, but when he starts rummaging through my stuff and throwing constant questions as to why I was 5 minutes late from class, it didn't bode well with me.
"Drop it please" I mumbled and opened the doors to the wardrobe. He was right, every single piece of my clothing was hanging neatly on the rail. My fingers whispered over a pair of my dark jeans thoughtfully. I could hear Mikey breathing heavily.
"I don't want an argument" His voice was calmer now.
"Then don't start one" I bit back, letting the doors of the cabinet fall closed again with a sharp slam. I grabbed a jacket and started looking through the draws of the chest, trying to find what I needed to calm me down. "Where the fuck are they?" I breathed, now opening the second draw. Finally, the small cardboard box found it's way into my hands and I smiled happily down at it.
"Frankie please-" Mikey stopped and looked down into my hands. I too, stopped dead in my tracks, besides my hand slowly slipping the cigarettes into my jean pocket.
"Frankie" I whispered delicatley, playing the words in my mind. My first nickname. Without hesitation, I walked back over to the door and opened it.
"Where are you going?" Mikey called.
"Out for a fucking smoke" I grumbled and shut the door on him, stalking down the corridor and finding my way out to the grounds round the back of the school building. The atmosphere was quiet round there, almost vacant and uninviting. Not many people, that I knew in the short time of me being here, ever went round the back. The grass wasn't as green, the trees not as lively, the plants not so neat. Things were a little worn down, just the way I liked it.
I found a wall, a small crevasse between the care takers office and the large bins. I then hurriedly flicked open the packet of cigarettes, my eyes seeming to widen at the sight of them. If anything, it was a single fag that could calm my nerves. A small orange haze illuminated infront of me as I lit it up and pressed it against my lips, taking a long drag of the toxic air. Almost immediatley my muscles seemed to looson and my body relax.
"You're in my spot kiddo" I turned around to see Gerard leant against the opposite corner wall. My eyes automatically rolling, I took another drag of my cigarette.
"It doesn't have your name written on it" I challenged his eyes through the mask of smoke that was filling the air between us. He moved, his feet crunching on the gravel beneath him.
"Actually" He walked toward me now. I noticed how his long strides made his legs lean, his body taller than it actually was. "It does" He shoved me aside with his shoudler and pointed at the wall behind where I was stood. I looked and there, marked clearly in white stone, was a scratchy mark of 'Gerard 4 Lita". I almost gagged on my cigarette at the marking.
Gerard's eyes snapped to mine. His short, almost Italian, black hair waved infront of his face. "Something funny?" He asked, a little stupidly if I say so myself. I mean, couldn't he see I was evidently laughing?
For some reason, my heart was pounding inside my chest, thumping hard against the bone structure and the muscle, well what muscle I did have. It being through fear, I don't know. But it was making me feel hot, my skin burning and turning red.
I tried to keep my cool, metaphoricly and literally. "Gerard 4 Lita. That's hardly a way of telling me to fuck off" I cocked my head to one side and rose an eyebrow, my fingers twiddling round the stick of smoke.
"Fuck off" He growled. I looked at him then, not just in acknowledgment, but I actually looked at him. His deep black hair contrasting against his white polo shirt and dark, neatly cut off jeans. His now, clearly green in the murky light that filtered through the cracks in the walls, eyes twinkled with a look of excitment, his collor bones prominant from his skin. His skin was not quite olive, in the Italian way I would expect, but it was pale, milky looking. I could feel my lips quivering into a smile, which I forced away and snapped back into 'Cool Frank'
"I aint goin' nowhere" It was supposed to come out challenging, aggressivley almost. But instead, it came out sweetly, almost caringly.
"Where'd you fucking go?" I was met with as soon as I entered mine and Mikey's dorm. Also, with a very crumbly substance smacking me right in the face.
"What the-" I closed the door behind me carefully and then, to make sure I wasn't going to be hit with anything else, carefully and with my hands raised slightly near my face, turned and walked to the centre of the room. "Mikey, seriously I can't come into our room without being hit with-" I stopped and looked down onto my chest, where bread crumbs lay. I followed the trail and sure enough saw sightings of the weapon: a slice of bread half covered with jam. "Bread?"
Mikey giggled and shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry man...It's been 5 minutes since the bell rung" His long fingers clasped tightly around the cup he was holding and shuffled about on his seat with apprehension.
In silence, I stood looking down at him with amusement. He really had it bad. I was the new kid and he was my protector. To stop myself from laughing at him, I bit down on the edge of my tongue. I just shrugged my shoudlers in response.
"It doesn't take 5 minutes to get from the class to here" He carried on.
"Mikey, I was talking to people. Why are you so protective anyway?" I asked, now moving over to my bed where my suitcase lay under it. I had yet to unpack everything, therfore all my belongings still remained in the case. Just as I was bending down, my knee gave out a loud crunch causing my eyes to slam shut and a shiver to erupt up my spine.
"Because...well I don't know. I don't want you getting into trouble alright" I carried on sifting into the darkness the be the space under my bed when I finally found the rough material of my suitcase, and with one hard pull, I managed to fall back onto my arse but successfully retrieving my case.
"I'm not getting into trouble" I finally responded. My brows furrowed as to why my case was so light so I quickly unzipped the metal clasp and chucked open the lid. Emptiness. My suitcase had been emptied.
"Gerard's in your class" Mikey stated out.
"Mhmmm, Mikey why is my case empty?"
"Don't change the subject, I unpacked everything for you and put it into that wardrobe over there" He pointed out to the large oak wardrobe standing in the corner and took a sip from his cup. "Were you talking to Gerard?" He pressed on. I inhaled deeply and wandered over to the cabinet, feeling distressed at Mikey's mothering to me. Okay, he was looking out for me and I completely accepted that, but when he starts rummaging through my stuff and throwing constant questions as to why I was 5 minutes late from class, it didn't bode well with me.
"Drop it please" I mumbled and opened the doors to the wardrobe. He was right, every single piece of my clothing was hanging neatly on the rail. My fingers whispered over a pair of my dark jeans thoughtfully. I could hear Mikey breathing heavily.
"I don't want an argument" His voice was calmer now.
"Then don't start one" I bit back, letting the doors of the cabinet fall closed again with a sharp slam. I grabbed a jacket and started looking through the draws of the chest, trying to find what I needed to calm me down. "Where the fuck are they?" I breathed, now opening the second draw. Finally, the small cardboard box found it's way into my hands and I smiled happily down at it.
"Frankie please-" Mikey stopped and looked down into my hands. I too, stopped dead in my tracks, besides my hand slowly slipping the cigarettes into my jean pocket.
"Frankie" I whispered delicatley, playing the words in my mind. My first nickname. Without hesitation, I walked back over to the door and opened it.
"Where are you going?" Mikey called.
"Out for a fucking smoke" I grumbled and shut the door on him, stalking down the corridor and finding my way out to the grounds round the back of the school building. The atmosphere was quiet round there, almost vacant and uninviting. Not many people, that I knew in the short time of me being here, ever went round the back. The grass wasn't as green, the trees not as lively, the plants not so neat. Things were a little worn down, just the way I liked it.
I found a wall, a small crevasse between the care takers office and the large bins. I then hurriedly flicked open the packet of cigarettes, my eyes seeming to widen at the sight of them. If anything, it was a single fag that could calm my nerves. A small orange haze illuminated infront of me as I lit it up and pressed it against my lips, taking a long drag of the toxic air. Almost immediatley my muscles seemed to looson and my body relax.
"You're in my spot kiddo" I turned around to see Gerard leant against the opposite corner wall. My eyes automatically rolling, I took another drag of my cigarette.
"It doesn't have your name written on it" I challenged his eyes through the mask of smoke that was filling the air between us. He moved, his feet crunching on the gravel beneath him.
"Actually" He walked toward me now. I noticed how his long strides made his legs lean, his body taller than it actually was. "It does" He shoved me aside with his shoudler and pointed at the wall behind where I was stood. I looked and there, marked clearly in white stone, was a scratchy mark of 'Gerard 4 Lita". I almost gagged on my cigarette at the marking.
Gerard's eyes snapped to mine. His short, almost Italian, black hair waved infront of his face. "Something funny?" He asked, a little stupidly if I say so myself. I mean, couldn't he see I was evidently laughing?
For some reason, my heart was pounding inside my chest, thumping hard against the bone structure and the muscle, well what muscle I did have. It being through fear, I don't know. But it was making me feel hot, my skin burning and turning red.
I tried to keep my cool, metaphoricly and literally. "Gerard 4 Lita. That's hardly a way of telling me to fuck off" I cocked my head to one side and rose an eyebrow, my fingers twiddling round the stick of smoke.
"Fuck off" He growled. I looked at him then, not just in acknowledgment, but I actually looked at him. His deep black hair contrasting against his white polo shirt and dark, neatly cut off jeans. His now, clearly green in the murky light that filtered through the cracks in the walls, eyes twinkled with a look of excitment, his collor bones prominant from his skin. His skin was not quite olive, in the Italian way I would expect, but it was pale, milky looking. I could feel my lips quivering into a smile, which I forced away and snapped back into 'Cool Frank'
"I aint goin' nowhere" It was supposed to come out challenging, aggressivley almost. But instead, it came out sweetly, almost caringly.