Stereotype

Chapter 6

It was the middle of Gerard's second day at the school and he was already exhausted. His tiredness, however, had nothing to do with the classes, but the constant small crowd that followed him everywhere. He missed spending some time on his own, and the only relatively quiet moments were the actual classes. Only relatively, because James Dewees sat by him in most, and he was a real chatter box. Gerard couldn't complain, though; James was a nice boy. In spite of being in the team, he spoke about anything but football. He didn't seem to be one of the opportunists, and Gerard was curious about how he had beaten Matt in the race to sit next to him. His only theory so far was that Matt maybe feared James. He would have to pay more attention to them to figure out why.

During lunch break, the over-passionated sport talk done by*Bob, Brian and Matt became too much for Gerard. He could play football and had enough knowledge about famous players thanks to the obligatory lessons he got from his father while growing up. He enjoyed a game with friends once in a while, but that was it. As a conversation subject, football bored the shit out of him. He didn't care about it.

Swallowing the last bit of his turkey sandwich, he decided to flee.

"Guys, need to go to the bathroom, be right back," he lied, turning his back on them. He stopped when he heard footsteps behind him. "Bob, why are you following me?"

"Uh...I dunno, so we can chat while you're there?" the other stammered.

"I'd rather not while I'm shitting, dude!" Gerard grinned, hoping to compensate for the annoyed tone he couldn't help employing.

"Oh, ok. I don't wanna smell your crap anyway!" Bob replied, returning to his friends.

Gerard knew he didn't have much time. Once he was sure no one could see him, he ran towards the outdoors bathroom. Instead of getting in, he walked around the corner to the opposite side of the small edification, to where the room that stored maintenance tools was. He took a seat on the cement doorstep and rested his back on the cold metallic door, just breathing. Enjoying the solitude.

The sudden lack of daylight through his lids made Gerard open his eyes, but -maybe fearing to see Bob again- he first looked down. Purple Converse with silver cords? Well, those didn't belong to Bob or any of his other 'stalkers', he was certain. Yet, he'd seen them before somewhere...

"The tree," Gerard's brain supplied. "The kid who was up the tree yesterday."

"Hi, I'm Frank!" came a cheery voice from above, and a small hand with blue nails was shoved in front of his face.

"Uh...Gerard," he replied dumbfounded, shaking the hand as he looked up to see who it belonged to. It was the short kid that was performing a weird, funny dance while talking on the phone the day before.

Frank chuckled. "I kind of already knew that. Everybody's been talking about you!"

"Oh, yeah...I guess. But, why are you here? Did you follow me or...?" Gerard didn't want to sound rude, he was just a little paranoid and confused. He knew it was wrong to assume things about a person based on the way they looked and acted, but he couldn't picture that delicate boy as a football player. He couldn't be, with his sparkly sneakers and matching purple t-shirt, his girl-cut blue jeans and pink belt. His hands were too soft, his childish face didn't show any bruises or a single scratch. His wavy brown hair looked clean and shiny. There was a feminine pitch in Frank's voice and he was generally tiny, looking not older than thirteen. He didn't even strike him as someone who would watch football.

Frank had simply seized the moment and gone after Gerard, but hadn't really thought of how he would justify showing up like that. Now, he was conscious that any excuse would sound ridiculous. "I...yeah, I basically followed you..." he started unsure, wrinkling his nose comically. "Sorry."

Gerard thought Frank looked like a bunny. Funny kid. "You did?"

"Yeah, but...it's just that I saw you'd finally gotten rid of your...'escort'," Frank quoted with his fingers, "and thought it was a good moment to introduce myself. Just talk to you, you know?"

Gerard raised his eyebrows. "My escort?" His intuition told him Frank was a very interesting person, someone he may enjoy having around no matter what Bob said about him.

"Yeah. Don't they make you feel like some sort of celebrity?"

"Well..."

Frank sat down on the grass and went on, "I'm telling you this 'cause I know you just met them, so it's not like you're gonna be offended that I'm insulting your friends or something. Well, I don't think so. And you did run away from them, didn't you?" He knew he was talking too much, but deep inside he was afraid that if he gave Gerard time to say more, he'd tell him the same everybody did and walk away. Although, if he didn't shut up, Gerard would probably walk away without saying anything at all.

To his surprise, Gerard was laughing. Not a mocking laughter, but an authentic amused one. "Oh, I did! Oh. My. God, I couldn't stand those guys anymore. If I'd stayed there one more second, I'm sure I'd have made them eat their food trays so they'd shut the fuck up about football!" he said, still chuckling.

Frank was taken aback. This was the reaction he was always looking for, every time he'd put his socializing plan into action. But he now realized he had stopped expecting it to work long ago. He couldn't let Gerard know, though. He didn't want him to think he was a stupid little loser; to notice that he had made him happy by just normally replying instead of ignoring or insulting him.

"But...uh...don't you play football yourself?" Frank questioned, kind of confused now that he had gotten over the astonishment. Didn't all football players like to talk about it? Well, except for James. James talked about food, bizarre TV shows and UFOs most of the time. It was a pity that he was too influenced by the other guys, otherwise they could be good friends.

"I do, I love football," Gerard quickly said, not wanting to disclose the truth yet. Even if he was pretty sure Frank had nothing to do with the sport, he didn't know who he was friends with. "But it's not my life. I like to play it -that's what sports are for in my opinion, not talk about it."

"Oh, great!" Frank clapped his hands, grinning. "Cause I'd be screwed if we were to talk about that."

"You're safe with me." Gerard looked up, getting distracted by another boy approaching him.

"Uh...could you move? I need to get something from there." He gestured between Gerard and the door urgently.

Gerard shrugged and obeyed, joining Frank on the ground instead. "What manners..."

"I know!"

"Tell me, Frank, are you in any of my classes? I don't remember seeing you..." Gerard resumed the conversation.

"Nah, I'm only in 10th grade. But thanks for pretending to think I'm older, I know I don't look it and you're just being nice."

"You're in 10th grade because you want to," the newcomer, who was struggling with a bunch of keys, meddled.

"Shut up, Brendon," Frank snapped.

"Whatever." The mentioned one finally got into the room, closing the door behind him.

Gerard was curious. "What did he mean?"

"Uh...fuck. I..."

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to..."

"It's just...I don't like that to be the first thing someone finds out about me. I'm..." Frank wanted to strangle Brendon. He didn't understand why he had to be such an annoying ass.

"You're younger," Gerard seemed to affirm more than ask.

"What?"

"You're younger than you're supposed to for a 10th grader. Is that it?" he explained his assumption.

"First you ask me if I'm in any of your classes -when you're two years ahead of me, and now you tell me I don't even look like a 10th grader?" Frank laughed now, even though he was dreading the subject.

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to offend you."

"It's okay, many people don't believe I'm fifteen, actually. No, that's not it, I'm in the right grade. What happens is that I...uh...could be in a higher one if I wanted to. There." He spoke the last part rapidly, wanting to get it over with. He fidgeted and avoided Gerard's gaze, picking at pieces of grass while he awaited the question he knew would come.

"You're one of those kids with like...an abnormally high I.Q or something?"

"I wouldn't say 'abnormally', I'm no Einstein. But, yeah...something like that. Can we change the subject please? It's just not important to me. That's also why I've always refused to jump grades. I don't give a fuck that I could. I like school and I want to go through it like all kids my age do. I have no interest in going to college before time and being surrounded by people who's ten years older than me or more. No thanks, I'm a teenager and I like my life this way," Frank concluded with a shrug.

If Gerard had suspected that Frank was an interesting person before, he now had the certainty. He was completely different to any teen he'd ever met. He sounded like an adult for moments, but at the same time the thoughts he expressed agreed with his age; same as his attitude and gestures.

"I think you did the right thing, I don't understand how anyone can be so desperate to grow up and have an adult life. No, dude, that's where the real problems start. I see what my parents deal with and freak out just thinking this is my last year of high school."

"Gotta say I'm glad I'm only fifteen! How about we talk about music instead?" Frank suggested. He found it hard to tame the gigantic smile that threatened to split the corners of his lips. He had made a friend. He had managed to finally make a friend. Gerard was treating him like an equal and hadn't made any remark about him being girly. It was a first.

"OK! Bands. I've always been more of a heavy metal guy -my favorite band is Iron Maiden, but lately...oh fuck!" Gerard cut himself off upon hearing the bell.

"I guess we'll have to leave the music talk for some other moment." Frank pouted. "If I start now, I won't be able to stop."

"Same! Let's go, then." Gerard got up and offered his hand to Frank, pulling him off the ground. "Hey, is that guy Brendon still in there?"

"Yeah, he always comes up with excuses to get the keys of that room so he can hide from the guys that harass him. He'll come out in a while, when he's sure everybody's inside."

"Oh..."

*******

As the two boys got into the building, still side by side and chatting, Gerard spotted Bob eying him disapprovingly.

"Man, Gerard, what are you doing with that pansy? Don't tell me I didn't warn you..."

"I'm very sure Gerard's old enough to decide who he talks to, Bobby. Don't be jealous, I won't forget about you, you know I love you!" Frank kissed Bob's cheek before running away while screaming, "Please to meet you, Gerard, talk to you later!"

"THAT'S IT! I WILL KICK YOUR ASS, IERO!" Bob yelled back, but instantly calmed down when he saw Ray standing next to him. "Jeez, sorry Toro, but your fucking sister just kissed me!"