On Top of the World

Beep beep beep beep beep beep beep-SMASH!

I looked up from my peaceful slumber and smiled deviously when I saw my alarm now smashed to smithereens on the floor. Stupid thing. It got what it deserved.

As I began to snuggle even deeper into my pillow and slip into a few more minutes of much-needed blissful sleep, my head sprang up so hard I thought I was going to get whiplash. There was a very good reason why I needed to wake up so early...

His name was Martin Johnson.

I practically flew out of bed and in to the bathroom so I could shower and get cleaned up.

After I left Mikey's yesterday afternoon, I spent all of last night trying to figure out why that kid was having this crazy effect on me. Was it his pretty face, with those big blue eyes rimmed ever-so-slightly with eyeliner? Or was it those incredibly tight skinny jeans that he wore? I wonder if he would be wearing them again today...

"UGH!"

I slammed my fist against the shower wall, wincing slightly as the pain came shooting up my entire arm. I regretted it soon after, but I couldn't help it.

I hated what he was doing to me! I needed to either figure out a way to keep those idiots off my back, Martin included, or become his friend... or possibly more. I was still juggling the possibility of him being as queer as I was. I mean, some people you can just tell that they are a flaming homosexual, much like myself.

I loved it, though. I was gay, and I was damn proud of it. I hated being in Catholic school and being forced to take religion. I squirmed uncomfortably during each and every lecture that told me I was basically going to Hell just because I preferred boys over girls. It wasn't my fault. Even if I wanted to change, I couldn't. You can't just change your mind about something like that.

"Damn!"

I was taking much longer in here than I had expected to. I got out and wrapped a towel around my waist, still dripping wet and walked back to my room. I scanned my bedside table for the time, and cursed myself silently for smashing it to bits earlier. I needed to know how much time I had, so I grabbed my cell phone from my discarded pants pocket from yesterday, sighing in relief. It was only 6:18, and I had plenty of time before the first bell rang at 7:30.

I took my time in front of the closet, studying my collection of band tees long and hard. I needed to make sure I picked out not only a good one... but a tight one. Seeing as I'd picked out a Misfits tee for yesterday, I needed to follow it up today with something just as awesome. Black Flag or The Clash....?

The Clash fit me tighter. The Clash it is.

I made sure to wear it with my extra tight dark blue skinnies (and fuck yes they came from the girl's department!), complete with my white studded belt. Normally I would have worn the pink one but that would... clash.

I laughed out loud at my terrible pun and glanced at myself in the mirror. I smiled happily, noticing how much I'd slimmed down over the summer. I decided to cut back on so much of that fast food, and pretty much became a vegetarian. I stuck to an almost steady diet that consisted of Skittles and Coke, which seemed to be working out quite well for me.

I glanced at my phone again, nearly dropping the damn thing when it informed me that it was now 6:40. I still needed to do my make-up and hair!

I quit dicking around and ran back into the bathroom. I plugged up my straightener so it could get hot, then got out my big tackle box full of make-up and other various beauty products. Yes, I said 'tackle box'.

You see, I got this tackle box (that was once full of fishing equipment) from my father, who no longer lives with us. He said he couldn't deal with having a 'flaming homo' for a son, which were his exact words. I guess he hoped I'd go fishing with this tackle box and become more of a man or something. I'd love to show him what good use I was getting out of it... he'd fucking die. Oh man, what a riot that would be!

My mom's response to me revealing that I was gay was 'I always wanted a girl anyway'.

So, after she kicked him out of the house, we took the various hooks and other fishing stuff back to the store and exchanged them for various make-up products. She even helped me pick some stuff out, and showed me how to put it on when I got home. I fucking loved her for that.

I realized I was staring off into space, so I snapped back to reality and took a good look at myself in the mirror. I studied my shirt, which was slightly faded with 'The Clash' sprawled across the front of it in bright red letters. It clung very tightly to me, which is probably why I loved it so much.

I opened up my box of goodies, rubbing my hands together in anticipation as to what I could do with myself today...

A flash of brilliance then hit me, as I began to dig through the various compacts and eye shadows I had sprawled everywhere. I lined my eyes heavily with my everyday black eyeliner, and followed it up with red eyeshadow on my eyelids. I even put some on under my eyes!

I didn't put on too much, but it was obviously very noticeable. I had decided that I didn't care if the jocks - or anyone for that matter, knew that I was gay or not. I wanted to put on just enough to let people know that yes, I was wearing red fucking eyeshadow. This was me, Frank Iero, whether they liked it or not.

Like I told you before, I was gay and proud. And I happen to think I look damn sexy with a little bit of color added to my face. I wonder if Martin would like it...

I felt my hair, noticing it was still damp. I sighed, plugging up the hair dryer and setting to work. About fifteen minutes later my mom knocked on the door, screaming for me to hurry my ass up or I'd be late for school.

I sighed, my hair really wasn't cooperating but everything else was working out pretty swell, so I just went with it. I picked up my messenger bag from the hall where I dropped it yesterday, and slid my shoes on and was out the door.

"So, Frankie, you got all spiffed up all for a boy, didn't you?"

I glanced over at my mom, who was smirking slightly. She sure got down to the point, didn't she?

"How'd you guess, mom?"

Normally I'd be annoyed, but I liked that she was taking an interest in me. It was nice for a change. I knew she loved me, and I knew she was proud of me, but she never seemed to have any time for me...

"Just a hunch. What's this boy toy's name?"

"His name is Martin," I said, smiling at her. His name was so adorable, I smiled every time I heard it, thought about it, or even said it. She simply nodded, and we didn't bother making any more smalltalk until we pulled up to the school.

"Have a good day with Martini, okay Frankie?" she said, smirking at me as I stepped out of her big ass Yukon Denali. Why we had such a gangster ride, I'll never know, but it was pretty awesome so I couldn't complain.

What I couldn't believe was that she called him 'Martini'. I couldn't help but laugh at how a Martini, even though I never had one before, was officially my new favorite alcoholic beverage. I'd have to try one later on....

My good mood about the 'Martini' comment quickly faded when I realized she'd just dropped me off right in front of the fucking school for everyone to see. I hated being a freshman and only fifteen. I only had to wait a few more months before I could get my permit and drive myself to school, but it seemed like it was taking a whole damn eternity.

I sighed and walked towards the big doors, passing the football crowd on my way in. They shouted their usual little comments at me, which I completely ignored.

The thing I couldn't ignore was Martin's absence among the crowd. I really wanted to see him this morning.

After all, he was the entire reason I woke up nearly a whole hour earlier than usual so I could get all sexied up for him. I wonder if he stayed home today or something...

"Frankie!" Mikey said, running up to me like he did yesterday. He then took a moment to stare me down, realizing that I didn't just roll out of bed ten minutes ago. "Wow you look so... spiffy!"

"Thanks buddy," I said, high fiving him like always. "Hey, I have to pee, so save me a seat okay?"

"Sure. See you there," he said, heading off in the direction of our first period class.

I did what I had to do and began walking back to Spanish class. Halfway there, I realized I forgot my book in my locker. I ran upstairs and down the end of the hall to my locker, freezing dead in my tracks when I got there.

Martin. Standing. Right in front of my locker.

A million and one things were rushing through my head as he spotted me. I swear, he stared at me for a good minute or two before he regained his composure and stormed over to me.

This can't be good...

I took a deep breath as he stood before me, practically towering over me. Damn him for being so tall. And so cute.

"What the hell was that all about yesterday?" he asked.

Those eyes were as pretty as ever, they sparkled brilliantly even though I could clearly see a little bit of anger swimming around in there. And my god those jeans... they were so fucking tight! How the hell did he fit everything in there?!

"Answer me, Frank!" he yelled, slamming the locker beside me. I didn't even flinch.

"Why the hell did you hit me yesterday?" I retorted, noticing a look of complete and utter shock wash over his face. I was getting to him. I could tell.

"I- look, I... I told you I was sorry, okay?"

He was stuttering. I was making him stutter.

"Well, I don't accept your apology," I said rather harshly, turning away from him and walking the rest of the way to my locker.

I'm pretty sure I left him with his mouth hanging open. He sure wasn't cut out for this 'pick-on-the-emo-kid' thing like the rest of the other football goons were.

"What? What do you mean you don't accept my-"

Then the bell rang. "Dammit! I'll talk to you later," he said, racing off in the direction of the staircase. I would be late for class, but that didn't matter.

The only thing that did matter was Martin Johnson, the spiky-haired 'football god', was waiting for me by my locker. This was working out better than I had thought...

*

My day practically flew by. I wasn't in trouble for being late to my first class, 'so long as it never happened again'. I goofed off with Mikey the entire time, which was awesome. The rest of my morning classes went swimmingly, I suppose. Algebra is a piece of cake, and English is... well, annoying. I can't write a paper to save my life, so that's something I'll need to get help with when it comes time for it.

By the time lunchtime rolled around, I headed back to my locker to switch out my books for the rest of the afternoon. I have to admit, I was completely shocked that there was nobody hovering around my locker waiting to pound my face in. Did the jocks not notice my pretty red eyelids? I was almost upset about that, I was really hoping that it would piss them off.

I almost had the urge to pass my locker right up until I saw a piece of paper sticking out of the corner. I looked around again, not noticing anybody too inconspicuous hanging around.

I pulled the piece of paper out of it's sanctuary from within my locker and opened it up. My eyes grew wide and my throat became dry.

"Meet me under the bleachers. I need to talk to you. - Martin."

I can't be too sure... but I'm pretty sure my heart just stopped beating.