Seventy Times Seven

I jumped out of my seat and went after her. "Wait!" But when I got to the door, she was already gone.

Going back to my seat, I let out a sigh. This was going to be difficult.

"I'm..really sorry.." Frank said quietly from a couple desks over. "I just didn't like seeing you sad. Guess I messed that one up huh.."

"No.." I said quickly. He was leaning on his elbow watching me, his black hair now officially covering his eyes.

He sighed, but aimed it upward so that it blew the hair from his eyes. He got up and walked over to where the notepad was, "Right.."

"Seriously Frankie it wasnt your fault. She's..mental." It sounded weird saying it, but thats pretty much what she was. "Shes psychotic. Seriously."

Looking over the notepad a bit, he looked up at me, "Schizophrenia? What the fuck is that?"

"Personality disorder. You see and hear stuff. Sounds like your brain pretty much rebels against you," I replied, getting up and standing next to him, looking over the paper also.

'No. You don't get it. It's different for everyone with Skitz. For me, a lot of times, when I meet someone, I see them again. So like, I could say that your friend and a few other people were following me Thursday and trying to hurt me.'

He pointed to that part. "I swear Chelsea I was at Mikeys. I swear to god I was no where near her."

"Yea I know," I said back, trying to sort it all out through my head. "What shes saying is, when she meets someone, she'll have visions of them hurting her later. Like ok, you could say that, her brain is telling her that these people are there. But like, me, for example, she doesnt see me hurting her because she kind of knows me. She knows I was nice to her, so she can't imagine me hurting her.."

I scanned over the page more to make sure what I was saying made sense. "But, it seems like guys always give her more hell, so she doesnt want to talk to them because she doesn't want to know how potentially rude they are, which could make them seem more..dangerous, when she imagines them."

"So basically she judges you. And if she likes you she likes you, and if she doesnt she doesnt," he replied, kind of sore.

I bit my lip a little, "Um..not her fault..? Think if it was you."

"I'd convince myself that those things weren't real.."

"But what if you kept telling yourself, 'Yea but he beat the shit out of Chelsea and he told her how she was gonna die and he doesnt like me anyway.' It'd be harder to convince yourself it wasnt real. Besides, its your brain telling you they're there. It's hard to convince your own brain something." I was feeling pretty good about myself seeing as I was almost figuring this out.

He sighed, "Well great. What do we do now?"

I shrugged, "We can still try. It'll just be hard. And if we dont convince her? We don't convince her." He looked at me confused. "I hung out with you first."

He smiled. Did he seriously think I was going to be trading her in for him? She's cool yea, but hes one of my best friends. I wasn't going to give up though. I really felt like I needed to help her.

He frowned, "Dammit.." he muttered softly.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replied, glancing up at the clock.

I studied him. His hair was in small, thin bunches from showering after gym. His hazel eyes were reading over the notebook again and again. He glanced up at me, since I hadn't said anything. I could tell something was bothering him. "Tell me. Or I'll hurt you."

He smirked, "As if you could hurt me."

I bit my lip. He had me on that one. "Tell me or..I'll hurt ME."

"What?" he asked confused. "How could you hurt you?"

"Iduno, but I can come up with something," I replied, looking around the room. I spotted a rubber band on Mr. Clarks desk. Quickly running over to it I put it around my wrist, "Ha!"

He rolled his eyes. I snapped it against my wrist. "Ooh the pain," he said sarcastically.

I pulled it harder and snapped it again.

He still wasnt convinced. So I did it again.

He looked at me with a 'yea right' expression. "Stop it Chels, its stupid. I'm not telling you."

I smiled, he's so caving. I pulled it even further, giving him a threatening look. He shook his head stubborningly, so I let go. I winced a little, cause it did indeed hurt, but not that bad.

He screwed up his face a bit, "Quit it."

I smiled wider, and did it again.

"Chelsea stop or-"

I did it again, but he ran after me. I ran around the room with him chasing me, snapping the rubber band. "Tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me!!"

He caught me around the waist and I almost fell forward cause he stopped moving so fast. I just laughed and kept snapping it, curling up so he couldnt move my hands.

"Fine I'll tell you!" he finally gave, slightly frustrated. I almost felt bad. "I was thinking, if it wasnt for me being so mean to you, she would still be here, ya know?"

I frowned. I hated it when he said stuff like that. "It's ok. Don't feel bad about it. Really, I already said I forgave you anyway."

"I know, thats why I didn't want to tell you!" he replied, sounding like he was complaining.

We joked around the rest of the lunch hour, as I ate my chips that I didn't ask for. When there was about five minutes left Mikey and Gerard ran into the room.

"JUNIOR/FACULTY GAME FRIDAY!!" Mikey sang.

Frankies eyes shot open. "Seriously?! YES!"

"Agh," I groaned. I always hated the faculty games. I always just left before them. If you don't know what that is? It's when one of the classes plays the faculty at some sport as a joke. It's pretty much a riot...if you have friends.

"Yea, Alicia told me today. You gonna play Frankie?" Mikey asked excitedly as Gerard sat in Mr. Clarks chair and spun around.

"Hell yea! You playin Gerard?"

He just kept spinning. "I told you Frank. Faculty games are gay. Besides, I have no skill at Basketball, its not my thing."

He sighed, "Oh come on Gerard! You don't have to have skill! Have you seen Mrs. Marshall? She can't even shoot! She always just throws it randomly!"

Gerard was still spinning. "Maybe next year."

Frank rolled his eyes, then looked down at me. "What about you Chels? You HAVE to play!" he said with a huge smile.

"No I don't-"

"No, you don't get a choice," he interrupted. "You're playing in the Junior/Faculty game with me."

I rolled my eyes. Good luck with that. The bell rang and we all exitted the classroom. Frank and Mikey first, chatting about the now upcoming game, and me and Gerard last, as he questioned me on what I ate.

I remembered something when he asked and smiled, secretly sliding the two dollars into Franks back pocket as we left.