My Favorite Part Was Dying

Gerard looked at his hand, scarlet droplets showered his fingers. Had he really just punched Jonathan Andrews? He glanced at his classmate, he had. His nose was bleeding profusely, and two of his muscular jock friends were holding him back to keep him from retaliating. Gerard could barely believe what had just happened. Exactly fourteen minutes back in school and already chaos had ensued.

* * *

"Jared, I know you've been through a lot recently. But that doesn't give you the right to punch our wonderful students." The school counselor, Andrea McKenna, drawled from behind her little cheap wooden desk covered in papers and knick-knacks. She was middle-aged, hair obviously dyed to keep away any strands of gray that were coming to visit. She had a thin, angular face and cold, bored eyes that seemed to be gray, but it was hard to tell in the fluorescent lighting. Not the type of person you would feel like telling all your problems too.

"Okay first of all, it's Gerard. Second of all, one student. I punched one kid. And trust me, he's not so wonderful." Gerard murmured through gritted teeth.

"So do you think because you only hit one student, one with which you have some personal grudge, that it's okay?" she asked condescendingly, cocking her head to one side. Gerard sighed and tried not to scream.

"No, I know violence isn't the answer, but I just... snapped."

"And what on earth could make you 'snap' like that?" McKenna asked.

"You don't want to know." Gerard muttered.

"But I do!"

"Fine! 'Fat little fag, crying over his brother's dead body, probably while he's fuckin' it!'" Gerard burst out. Mrs. McKenna looked shocked and outraged.

"I do not accept that kind of language!"

"Well that's a good thing then, that means you should have Andrews in this seat, not me. That's what he said, that's why I punched him." Gerard said slowly and clearly. Mrs. McKenna's jaw dropped, but she quickly regained composure.

"I know Mr. Andrews, he would never say anything like that. He's respectful to everyone, gets top grades, is doing great on the football team --"

"And the list goes on, I'm sure. But that's just the side you've seen. You don't know him. Ask any of the other outcast-type kids what he's like and they'll tell you. If they haven't been threatened already, that is."

Mrs. McKenna was clearly still shocked and dismayed but she quickly grasped to change the topic.

"So you feel like an 'outcast'?" she asked.

"Oh. My. God!" Gerard said, fury beginning to bubble up over the surface. He grabbed his bag and sketchbook at his feet and stood up from the little plastic chair he had been forced to sit in. He threw open the door and walked out of the cramped office.

Jesus, Mikey... I hate this place. I just wanna go home, I just wanna talk to you again. Why did I think coming back here would make things better? How could I possibly have thought that? He laughed quietly at his own stupidity as he walked down a deserted hallway.

Suddenly, Mr. Canatti, the vice principal, came out of a classroom. He was young, one of the few black men on the staff, attractive, and incredibly strict.

"What are you doing out of class?" he called to Gerard.

"I, uh..." Gerard knew he hadn't come up with an answer quick enough. Mr. Canatti gave him a skeptical look and told Gerard to follow him.

Great, more interrogations....

As the two of them made their way to the vice principal's office, Jonathan walked past, holding a crimson tissue to his nose. He shot daggers from his eyes at Gerard, then smirked tauntingly, realizing how much trouble Gerard was in.

...They adore him so,
But it's really quite alarming cause he's such an awful fuck.