Misunderestimation

Franks POV

I loosened the stranglehold of a tie that my mother had wrapped so forcefully around my neck earlier that morning. I hated the first day at a new school, Mom always took too much care, and then after that, it was nothing, not even a packed lunch.
First she’d drive me to school and try to smother me in kisses, exactly as potential bullies come past, but I would wriggle out of her grasp and slam the car door in her face, which is partially the reason she doesn’t drive me to school any other day.
I resented the fact that she took too much care, and then I resented her for not. I simply could not win with that woman.

Finally, I reached the school door, which led on the corridor and in to the rest of the school. I was to have art class first, something I didn’t really excel in. I took it was a way of not actually having to do any work, and I could just lose myself in the scribbles that meant absolutely nothing.

I squeezed my way into class, and took a seat near the back, at a desk covered in illiterate graffiti and illegible writing. I laughed as one word caught my eye; “faggot”. Around it were initials; “H.Y, J.T”, and in metallic pink gel pen were the initials “G.W”.
The bell went.
I slouched down further into my chair as the majority of outside’s mob strutted into class, and I hoped like hell that the seat next to me would be forgotten, as the mass of the group were wearing the school colours: jocks and preps.
The crowd thinned as they took their seats and I was left alone at the back, with nothing but an empty chair for company. Good, just how I like it.

About 20 minutes elapsed, and we now had our new assignment, a basic 5 page comic book with an original plotline. I was ecstatic, not only did I love comics; I have (badly) drawn heaps and have many original plotlines to choose from. That was, until, Ms Gallant had declared that it was to be a paired project.
Great. Brilliant, as I have no friends.
She paired everyone off, going down the roll; everyone had a pair except me. Thankyou late school fees! Thanks to them I had not been added to the register yet, and therefore I did not have a partner. Yes!

“Oh, and, uh, you must be Mr. Iero.” Ms. Gallant says blankly in my direction, not taking her eyes off the clipboard.
“Perfect! You can be with Gerard, he has called in sick today and I believe he would like this assignment taken to his house; he had his heart set on this project for quite a while. Seeing as you are his project partner, I’ll give you his copy and you can deliver it after school.” She says matter-of-factly.
“But, uh, Miss, I don’t know where he lives, and I think I am doing something after school, and I don’t have any way to get there, and I am new to town, so I don’t know my way around, and I just cant…” I trailed off as I ran out of excuses.
I didn’t want to go to some diseased kid’s house to drop off homework, especially when I could be playing my guitar.
She interrupts my babble with; “I have enclosed addresses and directions in the booklet. I think you’ll find he is not too far from where you are heading Mr Iero.” She thrusts the booklet into my hands and I open it to have a look.
Well, as it turns out she was correct when she said he didn’t live too far from me.
His was the creepy dark place that was a block down. I’d noticed on the letterbox was a bat when we drove past in the moving van.
That lesson ended pretty fast after that, and so did the rest of the day. It was a good day. No encounters with ignoramus jocks that wanted to beat me up. No encounters with anyone really…

I slouched home, occasionally walk/running to get to my guitar faster. I subconsciously started into a sprint, and stopped right in front of that bat letterbox. I had to do something here… I just can’t remember.
Suddenly it all starts flooding back. I walk up the cracked pavement to the door.
Push the buzzer.
A lanky dude with a Misfits tee on answers, and I pull the wad of paper out of my bag.
“Are you um, Gerard?” I ask, deliberately breaking up the sentence into two. I do that when I am nervous.
“Na, he’s my brother. I’ll just go get him- GERARD!!!!” He screams down the hallway.
“OI DUDE!!! SHORT KID AT THE DOOR FOR YOU!”
“Ah, no, that’s ok; I have his homework here, if you could just give it to him-”
“GERRARRRRDD!!!!” he butted in, and then added; “he should be here in a second, why don’t you just come in?”
I hesitantly walk in, without a word and take a seat on the couch next to an empty pizza box. Just the smell of old meat made me feel sick to my stomach. I scooted over as much as I could without leaning on the pair of boxers sitting on the arm of the sofa. Just as I was inspecting the shorts for any diseased substances a black haired 17-year-old-or-so slouched into the room. He was wearing a Black Flag tee and black jeans.
“You must be Frank…” he drawls, and I jump and immediately drop the boxers.
“How did you know…?”
“Mrs Gallant lives next door” (so THAT’S how she knew we lived close)
“So do you have it?” he asks impatiently.
“Yeah. Here.” As I hand him the booklet, he grabs my shirt and I am dragged down stairs into the basement, and shoved into a chair and told to look at the pieces of drawing paper he was holding up.
“Wow, these are amazing, did you draw these? I mean seriously, they’re fantastic…”
I trail off, blabbering. For some reason I am nervous around this guy. He has the most amazing eyes, I swear. Like ‘come to bed’ eyes. I continue blabbering.
He cuts in “- so you’re my partner eh? Well if you don’t mind I’d prefer to do all the work myself, im pretty into this project… but if you wanted to help me, I guess that would be fine…” he says expectantly, and hopefully.
“Okay…” I reply slowly. I didn’t really want to crush his hope.
“Good,” he said, and then just sat there looking at me.
“Um I think I should go now…” I start to get up, and he immediately gets up and helps me to the door. Why the sudden politeness?

That night I lay in bed thinking about that Gerard guy. He seemed to have good taste in music, and he was an amazing artist. Plus those eyes, that voice, and the hair….
I stop myself in mid thought. I promised myself that after the last time I tried to meet a guy in that way I would never do it again. It was too weird. It’s the whole reason I pushed mum to move here.