You Give Love a Bad Name

Two hours later I was holding the Green Day tickets in my hands like they were some precious jewels.

Logan had to leave literally like five minutes after he came ["You don't know my Mom! The only reason she let me go is because I told her that I accidently left my homework at your house. She's crazy when it comes to our family-bonding days!"], so I decided to kill boredom by finishing all of my homework for my A days and B days, that way I was free all day for Frank's party and the Halloween Dance.

Now I sat behind my computer desk, blankly staring at the screen where WordPad was open, blank besides the heading and the title, almost taunting me to start writing the first paragraph.

Frankly, I was still mystified who hated who more - myself or the English language. Ever since first grade, I realized that English was not my best subject, and ever since then I avoided essays, stories, and things in that nature for as long as I could.

"Dammit," I groaned when my mind pulled a blank once more on the short story I was supposed to be writing about. "Where is Gerard and his lyrical mind when you need them?"

I sat in the same position for ten more minutes, straining my brain and driving myself insane, before I realized that in order to have the assignment done by today, I would probably have to read the damn story again to refresh the plot.

Sighing, I picked up my English textbook and searched for the right page.

Ah, the joys of knowledge...

Settling deeper into the computer chair, I attacked the first line.

Five minutes and two paragraphs later, I realized that the chances of me finishing the essay today were slim to none.

Frustrated, I closed my eyes.

When woke up, it was oddly still and silent in the house.

Judging by the evening shadows on my bedroom walls, I must have slept around three to four hours, which would make it five or six in the afternoon.

Yawning, I got the four hundred page textbook of my chest, sleepily willing my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. Stretching, I got up and slowly made my way downstairs, thinking that by this time my Mom would be back from work and Gerard from Ray's house. But when I stepped into the kitchen, not my mother nor my two brothers were in sight.

"When did it get so freaking cold?" I whispered to myself, rubbing my shoulders for body heat as I realized that the temperature was down a good ten degrees.

"Hello? Mom...? Gerard...? Mikey...?" I took a shaking gulp of icy air. "Anybody home? Hello?"

It wasn't like them at all to leave the house without leaving a note or something in that nature, and even though I knew I was pathetic for doing so, I couldn’t help but slightly panic.

Shivering, I decided to calm my nerves by going into the family room and watching a comedy.

It was even colder there than in the kitchen, which was totally starting to freak me out. A deserted house, creepy shadows on the walls, and a freezing temperature? What was this? A one-star rated horror flick?

"Stop it, Lena," I told myself firmly. "Stop it and get a grip on yourself. You're not a five or six or even a seven year old girl, so grow the fuck up. There's no bogey man or green slimy monsters that roam ar- Oh!" I dropped the TV remote that was loosely clutched in my shaking hand when I saw movement from the corner of my eye.

Whipping my head around, I stared in horror and shock at the dark figure that was sitting on the sofa with it's back turned to me.

"Um... Excuse me?" I croaked out, feeling an icy wave of terror wash over me. "Excuse me, but can you... can you, uh..."

The figure turned around and I sighed in relief after seeing a familiar face.

"Frank!" I didn't know if I should have been happy that it wasn't some crazy intruder or pissed off that Frank almost gave me a heart attack. "Frank Anthony Iero, you have no idea how much, uh... Frank?" I trailed off when he slowly, almost in liquid motion, started to move towards me.

I laughed nervously. "Hey buddy, you look somewhat strange today. Is everything okay?"

Ignoring my question, he continued to approach me with the same fluid steps, his bright hazel eyes shining with an eerie glow from behind the mop of his unruly black hair.

My breath got caught in my throat when I realized how unnaturally beautiful he looked today.

In the poor lighting of the room, his skin looked unusually pale for its natural state - alabaster even. Clad in a dark hoodie and one of his fitted signature jeans, he looked like a cross between a model and one of those dangerously sexy guys your Mama warned you about.

Completely indulged in ogling my best friend, I didn't realize he was half a step away from me until he placed both of his hands on my shoulders. Somehow that simple gesture was strangely intimate and too close, making my insides turn to mush.

A small smile played on Frank's lips as he leaned froward, stopping just inches from my nose.

Holly shit! Was he about to kiss me? Sure as hell looked like it! I had two options; to slap him across the face - he was with Manda after all, or to stop torturing myself and give in to my feelings.

Somehow the latter looked pretty damn good at this moment.

With wide eyes, I watched as his half smile grew and grew, along with the heartbeats that my heart was frantically producing.

"Do I make you nervous?"

His whisper carried through the frosty air, making me shudder.

As his face grew closer and closer, I realized that was it - the moment I had dreamed about for a while now.

This, however - this was real, not a fantasy.

But then something happened. Frank's lovely features changed, morphing into something bizarre, something that made me want to pinch myself to see if this was really happening.

The man's smile grew into a wide grin as he stared at me with such deep penetration that it made my blood grow cold.

I gasped and tried to free myself from his arms. "Borat?"

A couple of fangs started to take form in his mouth as Borat started to shake me by the shoulders.

"SEXY TIME!"

I bolted straight up, gasping and trying to get the goddamn jerk to stop shaking me. In blind rage, I started to scream and kick in random directions.

I knew I had made the desired contact when I heard a low grunt and the sound of someone falling over.

Jumping up from the computer chair, I ran to stand behind it, ready to fight... Bob?

Bob Bryar was doubled over in pain a couple of feet away from me, clutching his stomach and groaning curses.

My room was warm and brightly lit with no shadows lurking about whatsoever. I started to realize that all of it was just some kind of bizarre dream. A nightmare, really.

I also realized that it wasn't Borat that I kicked in the balls - it was Bob.

"Oh, Bob," I ran over, trying to help him up. "I am so, so sorry!"

"Jeezus, Lena!" he wheezed out, still clutching the kicked area. "I try to help you and you try to get me neutered? It’s the last time I'm waking you up!"

As the shock started to wear off, I felt strangely emotional.

"But, Bob! It was...it was a-a," to my sheer horror I began to cry, and the harder I tried to control my tears, the harder I started to bawl, "it was c-cold and dark-k, ann-d he was go-going to kiss me, but...Borat ... shaking... s-sexy time..."

Bob lifted up his head and stared at me like I just went off my rocker. But then a huge grin formed on his face, and adding to my embarrassment, Bob started to laugh.

"So let me get this strait - that's your nightmare? You had sexy time with Borat?"

When it was Bob who said it, it sounded just plain stupid.

"Who had sexy time with Borat?" Mikey's head popped in, his glasses askew, only covering his left eye. "Bob, are you talking about your fantasies again? 'Cause that’s a bit sick even for y-"

Laughing so hard that he could barely breath, Bob managed to gasp out two words. "N-no, Lena..."

And that was enough to send Mikey on the floor next to him.

"You guys are jerks," I told them through their laughter, arms crossed and pouting. "I hope Michael Jackson ass-rapes you in your sleep tonight."

Unfortunately, that just made them laugh even harder.