The Ultimate Bet

"Opposite over hypotenuse...or is it opposite over adjacent? No, that's tangent..."

Linda Iero couldn't help but be amused by her son muttering to himself as he hurriedly tucked in his shirt and frantically searched the living room for his shoes.

"Well well, look who decided to grace me with his presence," Linda said lightly when Frank walked back in, hopping on one foot as he put a shoe on the other. Frank looked up at her, stopping mid-hop, then lost his balance and landed on the floor with a hard thud.

Frank stared at her in accusation. "Mom! How come you didn't wake up me up? My alarm didn't go off and I'm going to be late!"

"Well, I couldn't bring myself to do it. You look so adorable when you sleep, what with your mouth open and drool on the pillow. I remember when you were a baby and you slept on my chest, you would drool over my shirts and soak them," Linda chortled. Frank suspected that she would soon start bringing out the baby albums to show him the evidence. She did it every time every time he disbelieved her stories and any time that anyone new ever came over. This was the sole reason why he never invited any of his school partners to his house: because of her.

He groaned. "Mom, please, no more baby stories. You always talk about the most embarrassing things at my expense. I'm having a crisis here."

"I'm your mother, it's my job to embarrass you," Linda retorted, smiling cheerfully. She stepped up to him, licking her fingers and using them to slick down his hair.

"Mom, ew, ew! Do you know how much bacteria human saliva has? That's disgusting!" Frank cried out, trying to push her off, but Linda was taller and always used it to her advantage: so she continued to slick back his hair with her germ-infested hand.

"Frank, I gave birth to you. There's nothing more disgusting than that," Linda said matter-of-factly. "Besides, what time did you go to bed last night, young man?"

"Around one."

"You need to eat breakfast. How about eggs and bacon?"

"Mom," Frank drew out the syllable, realizing she was going to make him breakfast. "Mom, I can't eat. I need to go now."

"Nonsense. Frank, you have a whole hour! Now sit down and finishing dressing yourself. It's nearly thirty degrees outside and all you have on is your pants and shirt."

"Mom..."

"Sit down."

Frank sat, putting on his other shoe, and laced his shoelaces in frustration. "Mom, I have a geometry test. I need to get there early."

"What, to study? What were you doing last night?" Linda asked, turning on the stove to the right temperature. She turned to him, seeing her son's flustered expression. "Frank, I swear, one day your brain is going to fry from all the studying you do."

Frank sighed in defeat. There was no arguing with his mother. She was an Italian woman and no other women could scare him as much as Italian women. His mother might as well have beaten him up herself because that's exactly what would happen to him if he arrived to school later than usual.

**

"Mom, just drop me off here. Please!" Frank said agitatedly, opening the car door. The traffic was back-to-back and the most the car could move was only ten miles per hour.

Linda yelped, gripping the sleeve of his jacket. "Frank Anthony Iero! Close that door this instant! You're not walking in the rain!"

"But the traffic is horrible! I'll get there sooner by walking!"

"Most kids would love to postpone going to school as long as possible!" Linda exclaimed, wondering why her son had to be a genius. She had no clue where he got it from: her ex-husband was dumb as a doornail and she had barely graduated high school.

"But you're completely disrupting my equilibrium!"

But he definitely inherited his father's outbursts when things didn't go his way, she thought dryly. "You have no equilibrium, sweetie. You can't even ride a bike. Lord knows I tried, but the longest you stayed on was ten seconds. I finally gave up after the tenth time I had to bandage your knees."

He buried his face in his hands, sulking. His mother loved to remind him that he was fourteen and he couldn't ride a bike to save his life. "Thanks Mom."

**

Frank hated maneuvering through large crowds, partially due his claustrophobia and his inability to not bump into people. His small stature was to his advantage: he could get through people more easily. But his mother was right, he might as well have been born with two left feet because he could never get through without tripping on himself.

Miraculously, he successfully managed to make it to his locker in one piece. He smiled to himself in triumph but halted when he saw there was a certain barricade blocking his locker. Two tall boys that he never seen before in his life but by the height and looks of them, they screamed upperclassmen.

He gulped, his palms sweaty. "Errr...e-e-xcuse me?"

The two boys glanced at him, looking him up and down. The taller of the two laughed, tugging the dark-haired boy by his shirt, giving Frank access to his locker.

"There you go,” the dark-haired boy snickered.

"T-thanks...” Frank sighed in relief, glad to see they had been nice enough to comply. He put in the combination, the prickling feeling in his neck telling him that he was still being watched. He opened his locker, stealing a glance behind him to find the two boys whispering hurriedly to each other, ceasing when they finally noticed him.

"What? Can't people talk? You have a staring problem?" the dark-haired boy sneered.

"No, I...I'm not..." he turned back around quickly, focusing on looking for his Geometry book. Opposite over hypotenuse...

"We were nice enough to move for him," the taller boy said gruffly. "He seems pretty ungrateful to me, doesn't he?"

Adjacent over hypotenuse...

"Yeah, Quinn, he does," the dark-haired boy agreed, nodding his head. "And you know how much I can't stand rude people."

Opposite over adjacent...

"Completely, absolutely, positively..."

"Ok, shut up Quinn, you're annoying me."

**

Frank had been stuffed inside lockers so many times that he had learned the best ways to be comfortable for hours. At least this time he was fortunate enough to get stuffed in his own locker. Frank was a big fan of hygiene, a trait some people sorely lacked. He shuddered, remembering all the things he'd come across in other people's lockers.

Too bad he didn't have a flashlight: he could even study in here if he wanted to. He glanced at his glow-in-dark watch, realizing he was going to be late for his first class if he didn't get out soon. He started banging on the door, hoping someone was still in the hallway. He doubted it, but it was worth trying.

"Hello? Hahaha. Very funny. Let me out now," he said loudly, roughly banging on the locked door but to no avail. All it did was make his knuckles sore and his legs were starting to get strained from being in a half-upright position for twenty minutes. These things should have had an unlocking device from the inside, much like the anti-lock latches for the trucks of cars. Maybe he could look into it and invent one himself. He'd start writing to all of the local schools about this new invention. He was sure no other school had such a thing, what with the rate of people getting stuffed in their lockers on a daily basis--he imagined a lot of people would want it.

"Hey, what's your combo?" he heard a male voice from outside followed by a light knock on the locker door.

Frank sprang up in relief, hitting his head with the top of the locker. He yelped.

"20-15-3." He bit his tongue from crying out in pain.

Frank heard the familiar jiggling and a moment later the door was open. He quickly made his way out, tripping over himself in the process and landed on the linoleum floor on his hands and knees, his glasses flying off of his face. He blinked against the bright lights, his eyes trying to adjust to the change. Frank looked frantically around for his glasses though he stopped when his hand landed on someone's shoe. He looked up, having forgotten completely about the person who had helped him.

He stood up, glancing down in embarrassment. "T-thanks a l-lot. Last time I was in there for nearly two hours before an administrator found me."

"Yeah sure, no problem," the other boy said casually, handing him the backpack that Frank had tripped over on his way out. Frank took his bag with shaking hands and he gulped when the dark-haired boy stepped up closer, sighing in relief when the boy only slid the glasses back on his face.

He smiled gratefully at his savior, a dark-haired boy with green eyes. He looked familiar, he thought, but he couldn't remember where he had seen the other boy.

"You sure you're okay? You took a nasty fall," the boy commented, breaking the awkward silence.

"Y-yeah. I'm used to being on my knees, they're already banged up."

Then he realized what he had just said. He immediately blushed, sputtering, "I meant...I'm u-used to...falling down on my knees. W-when I was younger...I couldn't r-ride a b-bike a-and..."

The boy laughed, and Frank stopped trying to explain once he heard the sound. He just wished he could suddenly disappear. He hated how nervous he would get and start stuttering, mixing up words, sometimes leaving words out.

"I'm Gerard," the boy said, sticking out his hand, Frank shook it lightly, pulling away quickly.

"Frank."

Gerard smiled, putting a friendly hand on the shorter boy's shoulder then pulled him along as they walked down the hallway. "Does that happen a lot?"

Frank blushed. "Define 'a lot'."

"More than once in a week."

"Yeah. It happens a lot."

"Must get tiresome," Gerard hummed, then stopped and Frank followed suit, confused. "What if I said I could get them to stop? Nobody would ever bother you again?"

Frank blinked, wondering if he had misheard. "Wait, never?"

"Well, I can't promise for the next three years. I'm graduating," Gerard reminded the younger teen. Frank frowned. "But I'm sure if you do what I want, I can work it into the 'never' promise."

Frank couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was completely flabbergasted that someone was nice enough to help him out like that.

"Do you need me to do your homework or something? Because I'll do it!" Frank pleaded, eager to do whatever he had to if he meant he wouldn’t get harassed by anyone, at least for the rest of the year.

"You know, writing my papers is fine. Doing my homework would be excellent, too. But what about on test days? You can't walk in and take my tests, can you?" Gerard questioned jauntily and Frank's expression fell.

"Well no..."

"So, there's really no point in even bothering," Gerard replied, shrugging. "That would be a complete waste of time for the both of us."

"Oh. Good point, y-yeah. T-that w-wouldn't h-help you, would it?"

"Oh well. Too bad there is nothing else you can think of. I really want to help you, you know. But…not unless I get something in return. You understand, right?"

"Y-yeah. I d-do."

Gerard smiled a wide, toothy grin, "But you know, since I'm a nice guy and I really do want to genuinely help you out here, I can negotiate…"