Rainbows and Cupcakes vs. Gunshots and Pills

My god this school is bigger than Eisenhower... I looked at most of these kids and felt like I'm a little bald compared to them. Buzzed cut and only needed a washing here and there. My mom made me shave.... man, why? I tugged on my lip ring and passed up a bunch of girls staring at me. Right, these girls aren't used to my eyes. It's really not that special that they're... icy. I passed into History and sat down to another kid.

"Hey, I'm Frank Iero," he smiled.

"I'm Bob Bryar."

"You know this place? I'm so lost..." Iero laughed nervously.

"I'm new here."

"Oh, that's cool, I am too."

He's okay... kinda up there though, "Where'd you come from?"

"Belleview High in Jersey," he smirked sarcastically.

"New Jersey? That explains that weird accent thing you got."

"We've got accents? You sound like a weirdo."

"Yeah, well I sound like everyone else in the school except the foreign janitor they've got. I think he asked me to not walk on the grass, but it came out as, 'blif nich heilbensigng...'"

Frank just looked at me and we both cracked up. We talked a bit, checking our schedules and planning on hanging out at lunch. So this might not be too bad after all. History's okay.

Oh boy, marching band class. Heh, favorite thing because I can bang those drums all day and no one could bitch at me. Those girls seriously have to get over my eyes....