Status: Completed
High School Is the Least of Our Worries.
Chapter 1
Gerard.
I always hate starting a new school. I never fit in, and I never want to fit in. Everyone in high school are such jackasses that they never accept me, and I spent most of my lunch break in the boys toilets, smoking and applying more eyeliner to my bloodshot eyes. I know why I never fit in. It’s the long, black hair, the eyeliner, the scars up my arm and down to my wrists. But there’s another reason why I’ll never fit in with these cliché high schools, why I’ll never be accepted by the football team or the basketball team, or even the chess club.
I’ve never had a girlfriend.
Hey, don’t get me wrong, I could probably get a girlfriend if I really wanted to. I think I even had one in the first grade, but that was before my realisation. Ever since I was 12, I knew that I liked guys, and not just as friends. I pleasure myself every night – as every 17 year old guy would – but not over the topless girls with the huge tits you see in all those porn movies.
The pleasure comes from seeing guys. I can’t explain the way I feel when I see one of those guys on the internet, fucking another guy with a look of ecstasy on his face, tears streaming down his face in tune with the best orgasm he’s ever had. But I know that I can’t ever tell anyone; I’d be an even bigger outcast than I am now, and would probably be beaten up everyday behind the bike sheds by the wrestling team or something.
Every night I go over and over my secret in my head, willing that I could tell just one person, one person who would understand. I run my fingers through my jet black hair and feel like my sanity is slipping through them. I tug at it, cursing myself for being so different…for being me.
First day of my new school; fucking disaster. I took one look at the red posters streamed across the school halls, the cheerleaders practising in the gym and the football players cheering and head-butting and I thought, this is going to be hell.
Of course, I had to be late didn’t I? The bell must have gone ten minutes ago, and I fucking couldn’t care less. I ambled through the halls, slouched, dragging on a cigarette, looking around in search of my classroom. D135 the principle said, history. Oh joy, history. My favourite subject. I took another long drag in preparation of the torture I was about to endure, and threw it at a red poster screaming “Go Beavers!” so hard that the cigarette burnt a hole in the fabric. Grinning, I turned the door of the classroom, and the whole class stared around at me. I could feel them looking at me up and down, judging me, and automatically putting me into the category I’ve always been chucked into: Freak.
Just my luck. Put me right next to the motherfucking football captain and his worshippers, all yelling and making stupid jokes that I just wanted to punch them in their fucking faces. The captain, who I soon learned was Frank, was a real smartass, yelling things out to the teacher every five minutes and getting slapped on the back as a reward. To be honest, he was quite hot, his dark brown hair casually settling on his tanned forehead, his grin the most satisfying thing I’d seen all the time I’d been at this new school. But he’s definitely not my type. His eyes glitter with laughter, though it’s not the normal laughter that you see in most kids. He has the unflattering cruelty hidden in his eyes, shining out like a beacon, almost daring me to say something to make his cruelty escape once more.
I really couldn’t help myself. For the last half an hour I’d been quiet, just flexing and unflexing my hands under the table, and resisting the temptation to punch them right then and there. The only thing that kept me sane was the prospect of a good long cut after school. But then it just got too much. I just hissed, under my breath, so that only the football team could hear me, “Shut the fuck up.”
The teacher had to be one of the ones who doesn’t pay any attention to what his students are doing. Frank literally lifted me up from my chair by my clothes, clutching the front of my Misfits hoodie and whispered deadly into my ear, “You have just made an enemy of me.”
I wasn’t scared of him. I just looked at him, a deep loathing emitting from me, yearning to hurt him, a hurt that would last forever.
Frank.
Oh man I hate the first day back at school, I swear the fucking teachers are trying to bore us to death, with the exception of Mrs Wilkins… I think she’s trying to use her bad breath to asphyxiate us to death! It’s not like I even pay attention in lessons anyway, I’m either thinking about fucking my girlfriend Courtney or thinking of ways to piss of random teachers. I mean don’t get me wrong, I love my life, I have a hot girlfriend, tons of friends, I’m the head of the football team, I practically have girls swooning at my feet… yeah I’m a hot motherfucker.
“Hello, sweetie,” My girlfriend Courtney coos as she runs up to me and pecks me on the cheek, her long blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders.
“Hey, babe,” I return as I kiss her properly, a simple kiss on the lips turning into a full out makeout session in the middle of the history classroom. Lucky the teacher isn’t here yet.
“Now now Mr. Iero, you know that’s not appropriate,” I hear Mr Jones say in a strict voice, fuck I hadn’t heard him come in. I pull away from her, her strawberry lipgloss coating my lips, I grin at Mr Jones, lick my lips then flip him off before taking a seat next to Courtney and in front of my best friend Brad.
“Fucking old farts just jealous cause he ain’t getting any,” I whisper over to Courtney and she giggles and winks at me. Mr Jones turns around and glares at me.
“What’s wrong sir?” I ask in an innocent voice. He just shakes his head and starts rambling on about George fucking Washington or some shit like that.
Suddenly the door opens and in walks this kid with long black greasy hair and a pale face. I take one look at him, it really doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he won’t fit in here at all.
“Ugh not another fucking emo kid!” I hear Brad mutter to me and I laugh and lean back in my chair. Mr Jones assigns him to the spare seat next to me. I smirk at Courtney, this was a chance to have some fun!
Whispers of ‘emo fag’ resonate around the room as Mr Jones continues to ramble, not caring that all of his students were focusing on the ‘fresh meat’ that had been offered to us.
“Hey, fag boy?” I whisper to him, Courtney giggles again and Brad slaps me on the back. He keeps his eyes glued to the desk.
“Hey, sir,” I call out, “Sir, I think the new kid likes it up the ass,” I say smirking, the class burst out laughing and I get a few cheers and slaps on the back.
“Iero! I’ve had quiet enough of your rudeness this morning, please be quiet or you’ll be scraping gum off the desks for the next six weeks!” Mr Jones screeches, getting impatient with my behaviour. I ignore him and look over at the new kid and he glares at me
“Shut the fuck up,” He whispers
I glare at him. How fucking dare he say shit like that to me. I stand up and grab him by the neck of his hoodie, I lean close to his ear “You have just made an enemy of me” I whisper in a snarl. He matches my deadly glare. New kids gotta learn not to mess with me.
I snarl again and drop him back to his seat where he stares at the front of the class, eyes locked in a stony glare. I grin to myself and settle back down in my seat.
“Okay, class,” Mr Jones starts “I want you to copy down what I’ve written on the board and while your doing that I’m going to come around and assign you partners for the new project you will be starting, I will assign you partners and a country, you will have to research that countries history and give a presentation in two weeks time."
The whole class groans as we start writing down the stuff on the board. I look up when he calls my name
“Frank Iero… you will be partnered with out new pupil Gerard Way, I hope you’ll make him feel welcome at Middleborough High,” He says. I grumble and sink low in my seat as the new kid ‘Gerard’ bangs his head on the desk.
I always hate starting a new school. I never fit in, and I never want to fit in. Everyone in high school are such jackasses that they never accept me, and I spent most of my lunch break in the boys toilets, smoking and applying more eyeliner to my bloodshot eyes. I know why I never fit in. It’s the long, black hair, the eyeliner, the scars up my arm and down to my wrists. But there’s another reason why I’ll never fit in with these cliché high schools, why I’ll never be accepted by the football team or the basketball team, or even the chess club.
I’ve never had a girlfriend.
Hey, don’t get me wrong, I could probably get a girlfriend if I really wanted to. I think I even had one in the first grade, but that was before my realisation. Ever since I was 12, I knew that I liked guys, and not just as friends. I pleasure myself every night – as every 17 year old guy would – but not over the topless girls with the huge tits you see in all those porn movies.
The pleasure comes from seeing guys. I can’t explain the way I feel when I see one of those guys on the internet, fucking another guy with a look of ecstasy on his face, tears streaming down his face in tune with the best orgasm he’s ever had. But I know that I can’t ever tell anyone; I’d be an even bigger outcast than I am now, and would probably be beaten up everyday behind the bike sheds by the wrestling team or something.
Every night I go over and over my secret in my head, willing that I could tell just one person, one person who would understand. I run my fingers through my jet black hair and feel like my sanity is slipping through them. I tug at it, cursing myself for being so different…for being me.
First day of my new school; fucking disaster. I took one look at the red posters streamed across the school halls, the cheerleaders practising in the gym and the football players cheering and head-butting and I thought, this is going to be hell.
Of course, I had to be late didn’t I? The bell must have gone ten minutes ago, and I fucking couldn’t care less. I ambled through the halls, slouched, dragging on a cigarette, looking around in search of my classroom. D135 the principle said, history. Oh joy, history. My favourite subject. I took another long drag in preparation of the torture I was about to endure, and threw it at a red poster screaming “Go Beavers!” so hard that the cigarette burnt a hole in the fabric. Grinning, I turned the door of the classroom, and the whole class stared around at me. I could feel them looking at me up and down, judging me, and automatically putting me into the category I’ve always been chucked into: Freak.
Just my luck. Put me right next to the motherfucking football captain and his worshippers, all yelling and making stupid jokes that I just wanted to punch them in their fucking faces. The captain, who I soon learned was Frank, was a real smartass, yelling things out to the teacher every five minutes and getting slapped on the back as a reward. To be honest, he was quite hot, his dark brown hair casually settling on his tanned forehead, his grin the most satisfying thing I’d seen all the time I’d been at this new school. But he’s definitely not my type. His eyes glitter with laughter, though it’s not the normal laughter that you see in most kids. He has the unflattering cruelty hidden in his eyes, shining out like a beacon, almost daring me to say something to make his cruelty escape once more.
I really couldn’t help myself. For the last half an hour I’d been quiet, just flexing and unflexing my hands under the table, and resisting the temptation to punch them right then and there. The only thing that kept me sane was the prospect of a good long cut after school. But then it just got too much. I just hissed, under my breath, so that only the football team could hear me, “Shut the fuck up.”
The teacher had to be one of the ones who doesn’t pay any attention to what his students are doing. Frank literally lifted me up from my chair by my clothes, clutching the front of my Misfits hoodie and whispered deadly into my ear, “You have just made an enemy of me.”
I wasn’t scared of him. I just looked at him, a deep loathing emitting from me, yearning to hurt him, a hurt that would last forever.
Frank.
Oh man I hate the first day back at school, I swear the fucking teachers are trying to bore us to death, with the exception of Mrs Wilkins… I think she’s trying to use her bad breath to asphyxiate us to death! It’s not like I even pay attention in lessons anyway, I’m either thinking about fucking my girlfriend Courtney or thinking of ways to piss of random teachers. I mean don’t get me wrong, I love my life, I have a hot girlfriend, tons of friends, I’m the head of the football team, I practically have girls swooning at my feet… yeah I’m a hot motherfucker.
“Hello, sweetie,” My girlfriend Courtney coos as she runs up to me and pecks me on the cheek, her long blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders.
“Hey, babe,” I return as I kiss her properly, a simple kiss on the lips turning into a full out makeout session in the middle of the history classroom. Lucky the teacher isn’t here yet.
“Now now Mr. Iero, you know that’s not appropriate,” I hear Mr Jones say in a strict voice, fuck I hadn’t heard him come in. I pull away from her, her strawberry lipgloss coating my lips, I grin at Mr Jones, lick my lips then flip him off before taking a seat next to Courtney and in front of my best friend Brad.
“Fucking old farts just jealous cause he ain’t getting any,” I whisper over to Courtney and she giggles and winks at me. Mr Jones turns around and glares at me.
“What’s wrong sir?” I ask in an innocent voice. He just shakes his head and starts rambling on about George fucking Washington or some shit like that.
Suddenly the door opens and in walks this kid with long black greasy hair and a pale face. I take one look at him, it really doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he won’t fit in here at all.
“Ugh not another fucking emo kid!” I hear Brad mutter to me and I laugh and lean back in my chair. Mr Jones assigns him to the spare seat next to me. I smirk at Courtney, this was a chance to have some fun!
Whispers of ‘emo fag’ resonate around the room as Mr Jones continues to ramble, not caring that all of his students were focusing on the ‘fresh meat’ that had been offered to us.
“Hey, fag boy?” I whisper to him, Courtney giggles again and Brad slaps me on the back. He keeps his eyes glued to the desk.
“Hey, sir,” I call out, “Sir, I think the new kid likes it up the ass,” I say smirking, the class burst out laughing and I get a few cheers and slaps on the back.
“Iero! I’ve had quiet enough of your rudeness this morning, please be quiet or you’ll be scraping gum off the desks for the next six weeks!” Mr Jones screeches, getting impatient with my behaviour. I ignore him and look over at the new kid and he glares at me
“Shut the fuck up,” He whispers
I glare at him. How fucking dare he say shit like that to me. I stand up and grab him by the neck of his hoodie, I lean close to his ear “You have just made an enemy of me” I whisper in a snarl. He matches my deadly glare. New kids gotta learn not to mess with me.
I snarl again and drop him back to his seat where he stares at the front of the class, eyes locked in a stony glare. I grin to myself and settle back down in my seat.
“Okay, class,” Mr Jones starts “I want you to copy down what I’ve written on the board and while your doing that I’m going to come around and assign you partners for the new project you will be starting, I will assign you partners and a country, you will have to research that countries history and give a presentation in two weeks time."
The whole class groans as we start writing down the stuff on the board. I look up when he calls my name
“Frank Iero… you will be partnered with out new pupil Gerard Way, I hope you’ll make him feel welcome at Middleborough High,” He says. I grumble and sink low in my seat as the new kid ‘Gerard’ bangs his head on the desk.
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