Combination Lock
Chapter: The Second
(Frank’s POV)
I hadn’t seen Gerard on Tuesday, or yesterday, but he kept wandering into my head. It’s a very memorable way to meet someone, falling out of a locker into there arms. The jolt I had gotten from his touch was like water so hot it felt cool. Electrifying, I wanted him to hold me again-
“ Slow down frank”
Said a voice in my head
“ Your getting a head of yourself, I mean, you haven’t even talked to him more then once, your not just gunna magically fall in love, happily ever after and the like, he’s probably straight. ”
“Shut up” I told it, “ let me fantasize”
Shaking my head to rid myself of my internal conversations, I strode down the hall to my favorite class, math. (This is, my dear friends, the complex art of sarcasm.) I took my usual seat in the far left corner, and took out my good friend the fine-point sharpie. I became so lost in my little world of arm doodles that I failed to notice the pale boy in black who slipped into class a few minuets late. In math I tend to drown everything, and everyone out, but today I was rudely awakened from my drawing by the teacher’s voice snapping loudly in an icy tone,
“ Ms. Sanders! Please switch seats with Mr. Way, so you wont be tempted to disrupt class anymore.”
The girl next to me stood up and with a hugely exaggerated eye role, exchanged seats with Gerard, who I had just noticed, was in the class.
“Hello”
He murmured quietly to me. My heart quickened a bit, but I smiled at him and huddled a little farther into my hoodie, and continued to tattoo my arms with sharpie. Every so often I would catch him looking at me, and all sorts of ideas began to blossom in my devious little mind. But then, alas, I realized he was only watching me draw. I sighed, more disappointed then I should have been, and zoned back into my little sharpie world. (Yes most people zone out of things, I zone in.) My trance was only broken when I noticed something, I had run out of room. So without asking, I picked up Gerard’s hand and began to embroider little sharpie stitches on it. He stiffened momentarily, but then relaxed a little.
I reveled in the feel of his skin; it was so pale, and oddly cool to the touch.
“Where holding hands”
I gloated triumphantly to the skeptic little voice in my head, which didn’t respond. Score 1 for Frank. I’m such a freak…oh well.
But I noticed, that as I got further up his arm, he grew more and more tense. I ignored it as one of my paranoid delusions, (not uncommon for me). But when I went to pull up his sleeve a bit, when he snatched his hand back, looking angry and…frightened? His eyes where wide, and seemed darker, as if with a hidden kind of pain, the kind of pain that blocks out light. The bell rang, and he hurried out of class, sending me a fretful glance before vanishing into the crowed. I had a real talent for fucking things up, apparently. Should I try to talk to him? I didn’t even know what I did. Damn it…
I hadn’t seen Gerard on Tuesday, or yesterday, but he kept wandering into my head. It’s a very memorable way to meet someone, falling out of a locker into there arms. The jolt I had gotten from his touch was like water so hot it felt cool. Electrifying, I wanted him to hold me again-
“ Slow down frank”
Said a voice in my head
“ Your getting a head of yourself, I mean, you haven’t even talked to him more then once, your not just gunna magically fall in love, happily ever after and the like, he’s probably straight. ”
“Shut up” I told it, “ let me fantasize”
Shaking my head to rid myself of my internal conversations, I strode down the hall to my favorite class, math. (This is, my dear friends, the complex art of sarcasm.) I took my usual seat in the far left corner, and took out my good friend the fine-point sharpie. I became so lost in my little world of arm doodles that I failed to notice the pale boy in black who slipped into class a few minuets late. In math I tend to drown everything, and everyone out, but today I was rudely awakened from my drawing by the teacher’s voice snapping loudly in an icy tone,
“ Ms. Sanders! Please switch seats with Mr. Way, so you wont be tempted to disrupt class anymore.”
The girl next to me stood up and with a hugely exaggerated eye role, exchanged seats with Gerard, who I had just noticed, was in the class.
“Hello”
He murmured quietly to me. My heart quickened a bit, but I smiled at him and huddled a little farther into my hoodie, and continued to tattoo my arms with sharpie. Every so often I would catch him looking at me, and all sorts of ideas began to blossom in my devious little mind. But then, alas, I realized he was only watching me draw. I sighed, more disappointed then I should have been, and zoned back into my little sharpie world. (Yes most people zone out of things, I zone in.) My trance was only broken when I noticed something, I had run out of room. So without asking, I picked up Gerard’s hand and began to embroider little sharpie stitches on it. He stiffened momentarily, but then relaxed a little.
I reveled in the feel of his skin; it was so pale, and oddly cool to the touch.
“Where holding hands”
I gloated triumphantly to the skeptic little voice in my head, which didn’t respond. Score 1 for Frank. I’m such a freak…oh well.
But I noticed, that as I got further up his arm, he grew more and more tense. I ignored it as one of my paranoid delusions, (not uncommon for me). But when I went to pull up his sleeve a bit, when he snatched his hand back, looking angry and…frightened? His eyes where wide, and seemed darker, as if with a hidden kind of pain, the kind of pain that blocks out light. The bell rang, and he hurried out of class, sending me a fretful glance before vanishing into the crowed. I had a real talent for fucking things up, apparently. Should I try to talk to him? I didn’t even know what I did. Damn it…