Goody, Like Two Shoes

"Well," Frank began, "it's stupid, and you're going to hate me."

"'Frank, I've had enough of hating you; I don't hate you anymore, and I don't want to."

He smiled weakly and rubbed Buster's back, "So, you know I wasn't in high school for the first year, and that I was somewhere else, right?"

I nodded.

"Well, in the first school, I was bullied; mentally and physically; I was called names, hit, shoved in lockers...you name it. I'd come home everyday, a bloody, snivelling wreck; and in the end, mom decided that I should move - so I did. I had the option to totally reinvent myself in a new school, ya know?"

I nodded and, nervously, I reached for his hand; because I could see that he didn't really want to talk about this, and holding his hand was the best I could do.

"So, yeah, I wanted to reinvent myself, I wanted to be the cool kid, the kid that others wanted to hang out with; so I got a cool haircut, I wore cooler clothes, I lost weight, I basically did everything to make myself feel better about being me. Well, all of those things made me feel better, but I wasn't necessarily tough. And, in my experience, people always seem to look up to the tough kids, the kids that can stand up for themselves and take no shit from anyone."

When he paused, I looked up at him, "Go on. Tell me. It's okay."

He squeezed my hand subconsciously, "The first week of school was fine; then, by accident, one day I knocked a first year kid over. Everyone thought it had been intentional, and then suddenly I was tough, cool Frank. It just kind of escalated from there: "friends" expecting me to mouth off to everyone, be tough. In a way, I felt like I was getting revenge on all the kids who had ever picked on me, even if the hurt wasn't aimed directly at them."

I stayed silent, my hand still in his.

"You hate me, don't you? You hate that I've tormented you for no reason, picked on you just because I thought you were an easy target to let my anger out o--"'

"Frank, shut up. I don't hate you."

He seemed shocked as I hugged him tight, and he soon hugged me back, whispering, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I understand. Will you change for me; now that you've told me?" I asked, mumbling into his neck.

"You mean, be a better person?"

"Yes, and right your wrongs; don't let people hate you when that person isn't you - not the person that I know right now."

"How?" he asked.

"Just...be extra nice."

"I'd say I could handle that." he smiled, rubbing his chin.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

That Monday, for the first time, Frank walked with me to school. He even suggested that Millie walked with us, but I told him that that would be taking a step too far - she wasn't exactly his biggest fan, right then.

The looks we received as we walked onto campus were that of shock and amusement.
That was when I realised that people these days didn't have much of a life, if this - Frank and I being friends - was gossip of the year.

He even walked with me to my locker, making an extra effort at being nice.
"We've got art now, right?"

I nodded, "Yep."

"Okay. Do you want to sit with me?"

"Well, I was thinking I should maybe sit with Millie; I've kind of neglected her this past month." I shrugged.

"Oh, that's okay." Frank leaned up against the locker next to mine, pulling at a loose thread on his jacket, when there was a loud bang.

We turned to see a junior kneeling on the floor, books cascading from his locker at record speed.

Usually, Frank would have laughed and kicked a book on his way by, but, today, he walked over, ignoring the scared expression on the kid's face, and began helping him pick up the books.

I smiled - a nice, happy, friendly Frank wasn't too bad at all.

"Frank, I'm going to head to class now." I tapped his shoulder.

"Okay," he smiled, "See you there."

"So, I'm good enough for you to sit with now, huh?" Millie asked grumpily as I walked over to her desk.

"Come on, Mil, don't be like that." I sighed, pulling out a chair and sitting down, then putting my bag on the chair that was between us.

She finally gave in and smiled when I leaned over to hug her, "I missed you, Sasha."

"I missed you, too." I laughed.

"So, you've finally got rid of that cretin?" Millie raised an eyebrow.

"He's not a cretin." I suddenly blurted out; a bit in shock that I'd stood up for the boy who'd once made my life a living hell.

"What's got into you?" Millie sighed, "Have you forgotten about how he treated y--"

"Hey, Sasha!" came a loud yell, and Frank bounded over to us, "Can I sit here?"

He was motioning to the chair in between Millie and I.

"Do you not have your own friends, Iero?" Millie snapped.

Frank furrowed his brow, "Yes, I do. But I can't concentrate on schoolwork when I sit with them."

Millie rolled her eyes, "I won't be able to concentrate with you sitting next to me."

"Sit down, Frank." I moved my bag out of his way, and he threw himself into the chair, giving me a hug.

"'Should I give you a hug to make you happy, cheerful and full of the joys of spring?" Frank teased, turning to Millie.

I slapped his arm, laughing quietly, "Leave her be; you know she doesn't like you."

He pouted and turned back to me, "Well, at least I have you!"

With that, I was thrown backwards, off my chair, in another hug, and we both landed on the floor, Frank smirking and pretty much straddling me, "Well, isn't this such a compromising position..."

A pair of shiny, leather shoes squeaked along the linoleum towards us, "Mr. Iero, I'd advise you to keep your little "let's make some love" sessions for when you're out of the view of others, and in the privacy of your own bedroom."

"Ahahahaha," Frank laughed, looking up at Gerard, "We weren't doing anything wrong, were we, Sasha?"

"He was molesting me, Gee." I whined.

"Get up, you two." Gerard rolled his eyes, "Draw a portrait of each other before I - - I don't know."

"Before you rape us?" Frank suggested.

"Yes, good one, Frank. Get up before I rape you both. At the same time."

"Yum." Frank licked his lips, batting his eyelashes playfully, "You can't rape the willing, Gee, you can't rape the willing."