Status: Completed
High School Is the Least of Our Worries.
Chapter 3
Gerard
I couldn’t care less when I saw Frank looking over the top of my cubicle door. The high I get from cutting myself had already faded away, and I was feeling alone and isolated as I slumped in the toilets drenched in my own blood. I knew Frank would tell confirm to everyone at school that I really was an emo fag, slashing at myself at every opportunity.
As I saw the smirk creeping onto his face, I knew my voice broke when I tried to regain my posture and show him that he couldn’t break me down, but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t care. I didn’t care when I cried in front of him, or when he saw me at my weakest. Nothing mattered anymore. I just wanted to die right then and there. I would have done it too, if it weren’t for him.
My little brother, Mikey.
Mikey is a scrawny kid of 14, with glasses that slid of the end of his nose and his hair always messy. That makes him sound like fucking Harry Potter! But anything from it. He’s shy and secluded, but is always there for me. If I died, I’d feel so guilty about leaving Mikey. He’s my one and only friend, my best friend, and is the only one who understands me. The only one who can look at me and see me, not just the weird emo fag Gerard, but the loving Gerard, the Gerard who feels special just talking to him.
But I couldn’t. I knew I couldn’t do that to him. So I sniffed, wiped my blackened eyes and came out of the cubicle. I was face to face with Frank, but I just stood there, waiting for him to make a snide comment or hurt me even more than I already was. I didn’t care that blood was methodically dripping from my school shirt onto the tiled floor; all I cared about was staring him down, making him feel bad. I wanted to destroy the man who had destroyed me.
He stood his ground. He whispered into my ear, “Go ahead. Try me.” I put my hand into my pocket, waiting for something to happen.
“I knew you didn’t have the guts, you fucking fag.”
This was the trigger that made me explode. My reactions were faster than I ever thought imaginable. I could see his fist in the air, cutting its path through the air as if it was slow motion. I dodged the punch and pulled out my knife, pinning him to the wall, raising it to his throat. I pinned him there, his breathing deep and his eyes darted to the knife and back to me, full of fear, though he wouldn’t let his face show it. He gulped a few times, making the blade pierce the skin ever so slightly, and the smallest trickle of blood escaped from his skin.
“What are you going to do, fag? Kill me?” he snarled, his words coming out in uneasy gasps.
I wasn’t going to kill him. I didn’t want to kill him. All I wanted to do is transfer the fear from me to him, let him taste what it felt like to be an inch from death.
“I wouldn’t call me that, Iero. I’m the one who decides if you live or not.”
That shut him up, and he just waited to see what would happen.
I looked him once more, my eyes darting to his lips and up to his eyes, giving him a threatening glare. I released him forcefully and he stumbled; he turned round and looked at me, with revenge etched across his face. I’d better watch my back.
* * *
I cleaned up in the bathroom, taking my time cleaning up the blood stains on my body. I was grateful that gym was last period; I could imagine the stares from the other students and the screeching of the teachers when they saw my dried blood on my uniform. The gym kit was tight and itchy, and I struggled against the seams on the way to the gym.
“Ah, so good for you to join us, Mr Way,” Coach Patterson said, sarcasm rolling off his tongue, “I think ten laps should be able to put you back in place.”
Flipping him off when his back was turned, I started to run the first lap of my punishment. As I jogged steadily, my arm aching slightly from the cuts distancing themselves between my shoulder and my wrists, I noticed Frank looking at me with a silent hatred. I turned away quickly, not because I was bore down by his glare, but I couldn’t let on what was happening. Frank looked so damn hot without a shirt, perspiration coating his toned stomach. If I kept looking at him something might happen that I would regret for the rest of my life. I couldn’t help myself. I stole another look back at the motherfucker I loathed, and, despite myself, I felt my dick rise in my gym shorts.
I cursed myself and felt my erection stiffen. I tried running faster, trying to conceal it from my classmates. It just looked more obvious. I slowed down and just braced myself for what would happen next.
Frank
I stand there listening to the coach ramble on about the rules of basketball, like we don’t know how to play! I zone out and find my eyes wandering to Gerard who’s running around the court as a punishment for being late. He looks uncomfortable and I can see the fresh scars on his wrists even from here, hmmm I wonder if anyone else has noticed yet.
I glare at him, my mind wondering back to the scene in the bathroom. I’ll admit I was scared, I mean who wouldn’t be, being held up against a wall by a creepy kid with a knife! He could have fucking killed me!!
I’m distracted from my thoughts as coach blows the whistle and tells us all to get in position. The ball is tossed in the air and we start to play, the ball is bounced to me and I bounce it up to the basket, jumping up and slam dunking it straight in. My team cheers and I grin, my grin disappearing as I see Gerard looking at me, he glares at me and looks away, only to look back a few seconds later. I look him up and down, my eyes widening as I see a slight tent forming in his regulation black gym shorts
“Oh my god,” I whisper to myself before bursting out laughing. I see Gerard running faster, obviously trying to hide it but failing and making it even more obvious.
“Coach Patterson?” I hear this kid Mark Davidson yell.
“Yes Davidson,” He replies.
“New kids got a stiffy sir!” he says and the whole class starts to laugh including me. I see Gerard turn bright red and stop running as his eyes scan over the mocking faces, his erection painfully obvious.
He walks towards us and I see tears fill his eyes once more as the class continues to snigger and scoff.
“Can I be excused sir?” He whispers, furiously wiping his eyes, the coach nods, he walks away from us, back towards the building.
“Go back to wherever the fuck you came from fag! We don’t want you here!” Brad calls after him. Gerard just keeps on walking and the coach blows the whistle for us to keep on playing.
When we get back to the boys locker room Gerard is no where to be seen. We all get changed and I grab my bag, walking to the front of the building. I’m surprised to see Gerard slouched against the wall, his greasy black hair falling over his bloodshot eyes. He looks up at me.
“Uhhh hi… I-I wasn’t sure if you were serious about coming back to my house,” He whispers and I cock my head and look at him.
“Uhh... sure, whatever,” I reply as he stands up and walks towards this beaten up old car.
He waited for me… that’s kinda nice I suppose.
I couldn’t care less when I saw Frank looking over the top of my cubicle door. The high I get from cutting myself had already faded away, and I was feeling alone and isolated as I slumped in the toilets drenched in my own blood. I knew Frank would tell confirm to everyone at school that I really was an emo fag, slashing at myself at every opportunity.
As I saw the smirk creeping onto his face, I knew my voice broke when I tried to regain my posture and show him that he couldn’t break me down, but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t care. I didn’t care when I cried in front of him, or when he saw me at my weakest. Nothing mattered anymore. I just wanted to die right then and there. I would have done it too, if it weren’t for him.
My little brother, Mikey.
Mikey is a scrawny kid of 14, with glasses that slid of the end of his nose and his hair always messy. That makes him sound like fucking Harry Potter! But anything from it. He’s shy and secluded, but is always there for me. If I died, I’d feel so guilty about leaving Mikey. He’s my one and only friend, my best friend, and is the only one who understands me. The only one who can look at me and see me, not just the weird emo fag Gerard, but the loving Gerard, the Gerard who feels special just talking to him.
But I couldn’t. I knew I couldn’t do that to him. So I sniffed, wiped my blackened eyes and came out of the cubicle. I was face to face with Frank, but I just stood there, waiting for him to make a snide comment or hurt me even more than I already was. I didn’t care that blood was methodically dripping from my school shirt onto the tiled floor; all I cared about was staring him down, making him feel bad. I wanted to destroy the man who had destroyed me.
He stood his ground. He whispered into my ear, “Go ahead. Try me.” I put my hand into my pocket, waiting for something to happen.
“I knew you didn’t have the guts, you fucking fag.”
This was the trigger that made me explode. My reactions were faster than I ever thought imaginable. I could see his fist in the air, cutting its path through the air as if it was slow motion. I dodged the punch and pulled out my knife, pinning him to the wall, raising it to his throat. I pinned him there, his breathing deep and his eyes darted to the knife and back to me, full of fear, though he wouldn’t let his face show it. He gulped a few times, making the blade pierce the skin ever so slightly, and the smallest trickle of blood escaped from his skin.
“What are you going to do, fag? Kill me?” he snarled, his words coming out in uneasy gasps.
I wasn’t going to kill him. I didn’t want to kill him. All I wanted to do is transfer the fear from me to him, let him taste what it felt like to be an inch from death.
“I wouldn’t call me that, Iero. I’m the one who decides if you live or not.”
That shut him up, and he just waited to see what would happen.
I looked him once more, my eyes darting to his lips and up to his eyes, giving him a threatening glare. I released him forcefully and he stumbled; he turned round and looked at me, with revenge etched across his face. I’d better watch my back.
* * *
I cleaned up in the bathroom, taking my time cleaning up the blood stains on my body. I was grateful that gym was last period; I could imagine the stares from the other students and the screeching of the teachers when they saw my dried blood on my uniform. The gym kit was tight and itchy, and I struggled against the seams on the way to the gym.
“Ah, so good for you to join us, Mr Way,” Coach Patterson said, sarcasm rolling off his tongue, “I think ten laps should be able to put you back in place.”
Flipping him off when his back was turned, I started to run the first lap of my punishment. As I jogged steadily, my arm aching slightly from the cuts distancing themselves between my shoulder and my wrists, I noticed Frank looking at me with a silent hatred. I turned away quickly, not because I was bore down by his glare, but I couldn’t let on what was happening. Frank looked so damn hot without a shirt, perspiration coating his toned stomach. If I kept looking at him something might happen that I would regret for the rest of my life. I couldn’t help myself. I stole another look back at the motherfucker I loathed, and, despite myself, I felt my dick rise in my gym shorts.
I cursed myself and felt my erection stiffen. I tried running faster, trying to conceal it from my classmates. It just looked more obvious. I slowed down and just braced myself for what would happen next.
Frank
I stand there listening to the coach ramble on about the rules of basketball, like we don’t know how to play! I zone out and find my eyes wandering to Gerard who’s running around the court as a punishment for being late. He looks uncomfortable and I can see the fresh scars on his wrists even from here, hmmm I wonder if anyone else has noticed yet.
I glare at him, my mind wondering back to the scene in the bathroom. I’ll admit I was scared, I mean who wouldn’t be, being held up against a wall by a creepy kid with a knife! He could have fucking killed me!!
I’m distracted from my thoughts as coach blows the whistle and tells us all to get in position. The ball is tossed in the air and we start to play, the ball is bounced to me and I bounce it up to the basket, jumping up and slam dunking it straight in. My team cheers and I grin, my grin disappearing as I see Gerard looking at me, he glares at me and looks away, only to look back a few seconds later. I look him up and down, my eyes widening as I see a slight tent forming in his regulation black gym shorts
“Oh my god,” I whisper to myself before bursting out laughing. I see Gerard running faster, obviously trying to hide it but failing and making it even more obvious.
“Coach Patterson?” I hear this kid Mark Davidson yell.
“Yes Davidson,” He replies.
“New kids got a stiffy sir!” he says and the whole class starts to laugh including me. I see Gerard turn bright red and stop running as his eyes scan over the mocking faces, his erection painfully obvious.
He walks towards us and I see tears fill his eyes once more as the class continues to snigger and scoff.
“Can I be excused sir?” He whispers, furiously wiping his eyes, the coach nods, he walks away from us, back towards the building.
“Go back to wherever the fuck you came from fag! We don’t want you here!” Brad calls after him. Gerard just keeps on walking and the coach blows the whistle for us to keep on playing.
When we get back to the boys locker room Gerard is no where to be seen. We all get changed and I grab my bag, walking to the front of the building. I’m surprised to see Gerard slouched against the wall, his greasy black hair falling over his bloodshot eyes. He looks up at me.
“Uhhh hi… I-I wasn’t sure if you were serious about coming back to my house,” He whispers and I cock my head and look at him.
“Uhh... sure, whatever,” I reply as he stands up and walks towards this beaten up old car.
He waited for me… that’s kinda nice I suppose.