It's Classy, Not Classic.

Unfortunately, once dismissed I was followed out of the school by a certain someone, and once outside, standing at the front of the school in the cold as I waited for Frank to come pick me up, Brandon approached me with a sly grin that made me want to gag my lungs up. It's not to say he wasn't attractive, because he was adequate enough to get quite a few dates, it was just the fact that I prefered Frank just so much more. As I stood there, my feet almost stuck to the cement beneath me, my heart whined to itself for Frank to hurry up, because my heart was starting to hurt, wanting Frank, wanting to have Frank talk to me and Franks kisses. Standing here with Brandon didn't give me one bit of a good feeling, it only gave me the feeling that something was going to go wrong.
He'd started to talk, his mouth moving, but words were muffled by the bad feeling growing in the pit of my stomach. I didn't listen because I couldn't, only nodded and hummed responses to his words as if to reassure him I was listening when I really wasn't at all. And then it happened, he grabbed me closer to him and crushed his lips down against mine, his hands taking a tight grip around my upper arms. I yelped and squirmed drastically, trying to shove him away, and through trying to fight him off I never heard a car pull up infront of the school. I didn't realize anyone else was here, and I didn't care either because I was still trying to fight Brandon off.
Suddenly, someone shoved him away from me, a fist colliding with Brandons jaw, making him cringe, yelp and quickly back up as a familiar figure stepped infront of me, seperating me finally from Brandon. My breath hitched in my throat, terrified, because Frank had seen Brandon kissing me -- what if he takes it the wrong way and blames me?
My hands automatically grabbed onto the back of Franks jacket, as if for dear life, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Frank growled at him angrily, as if he weren't already annoyed enough.
"Jesus, you're fucking everywhere." Brandon spat back at him, rubbing the spot on his jaw where Frank had punched him, where a bruise and a cut were now situated.
"Only when whores try to touch my girlfriend." Frank hissed in response, his fists tightening and balling up.
"You forget who you were before this little chick pranced into your life, Frankie." Brandon laughed viciously, and that only caused Frank to tense up even more in anger, and I kept telling myself it didn't matter who he used to be, it's who he is now.
"That doesn't even fucking matter anymore," Frank snapped back at him tensely, "If you ever fucking touch her again, I'll fucking tear you apart -- got that?"
If only I could say Brandon bolted off, scared shitless, but I can't, because then I'd be fucking lying.