Lost In You

I hated day threes. Today I had English first and next math. So on my journey from the English room across the hall to the math room not even ten steps away, I halted in shock. Sitting on the ground right in front of me was that soft leather book. I glanced around and when I didn't see it's owner, I picked it up and stuck it in my bag. No way would Gerard leave it there on purpose and God knows what would happen if the jocks found it. I could give it to him in history class which was after lunch if I didn't see him before then. He must be freaking out right now since he never lets this book out of sight. I walked into the math room and took my usual seat in the back in front of the window. No one was in the class and my curiosity got the best of me. I pulled out the black leather book and opened it to the first page.

Gerard was a great artist, not great, amazing. Everything in that book of his blew my mind and made me feel highly untalented with my stick people. I didn't even get the chance to see all the drawings since class began. Why was Gerard so self conscious about his art? I didn't see Gerard at lunch once and I certainly hoped I would see him in history or at least chemistry. What if he wasn't there at all? I guess I could just go to his house and put it in his mail box...? I'm a total creep.

"Where's Gerard?" I asked Hayden just as our history class began. The leather sketchbook was safely inside my bag between my chemistry book and math text. Hayden opened one tired eye and looked at me. He sighed and stretched sleepily as If I woke him from a nap.

"His mom picked him and Mikey up for something." he said as If I should know that.

"How did you know that." he closed his eyes again and tapped his head with one finger signaling that he just knew. He scared me sometimes. So that meant that I had to potentially go to his house to deliver the book. Who knows how long he would be gone. I took this opportunity to look through the rest of his book. I was nearly at the end when I drew in a sharp breath of surprise. The image I was looking at was that of my own reflection. I blinked and studied the picture. It was me! Gerard Way drew me, Frank Iero! Why would he do that? Was it just because I was the only one that talked to him? Or could it be more like, did he like me as much as I liked him?