Don't Try to Save Me

"Mr. Iero, how many times I have I told you to take that filth off your face?" Mr. Tarn spat in my face, tight lipped and fuming. 

"Uh...about seven or eight I think," I replied, bored. I opted for studying my chipped black nail paint instead of looking at my English teacher going purple in the face. 

"And yet the message still doesn't seem to have sunk in," he snarled, slamming his hand down on the desk. 

"No," I replied nonchalantly. "Doesn't look like it." 

I smirked when I glanced over to Bert to see him hiding his face in his hands and his shoulders shaking with laughter. Mr. Tarn followed my eyes and he looked even angrier if that was possible when he saw Bert sniggering. 

"Is there something funny going on Bert?" he snapped, standing up straight and holding his head high. 

Bert pressed his lips together to hide his smile and he shook his head. "No sir." 

I leant forwards, resting my chin in my hand and staring dreamily at Mr. Tarn. I batted my eyelashes at him, my lips curling into a smile. "Oh, I just have the perfect shade of foundation for you at home sir, it would cover up all those nasty pockmarks and blemishes. And you should wear some mascara too, y'know, brighten up your eyes a bit?" 

Bert burst out laughing, shrieking in hysterics as he doubled over in his seat. Mr. Tarn really was purple in face now and it didn't bother me in slightest. 

"The two of you," he got out through gritted teeth, spit flying everywhere. "Get out of my class now. I'm suspending both of you, for a week." 

"Praise the Lord!" I cried dramatically, throwing my arms up in the air and standing up. 

"GET OUT IERO!" 

"See you soon sir," I cooed on my way out, waving. "You know where I am if you want that make-up!" 

Bert soon staggered out after me, in tears. He grabbed me as soon as the door was shut and kissed me fiercely, laughing at the same time. His tongue flicked against the roof of my mouth as I parted my lips, making me gasp and grab fistfuls of his shirt. He grabbed me by the hips and backed us into the corner of the corridor, his lips pressing hungrily against mine. He pulled back to breathe, his eyes shining. 

"You," he whispered, out of breath. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, you know that?" 

I blushed, looking down. "I could say the same about you." 

Bert laughed and pulled me against his hard, warm chest, hugging me tightly. 

"Come on. Let's get the hell out of this place." 

*********************

"Bert, you can stay and watch me rip my son to pieces or you can leave," Linda yelled as she burst into my bedroom that night, her face livid. "Either way that little shit is getting it." 

Bert looked over at me and I shook my head. "You should probably...yeah. I'm sorry." 

"Sure," Bert mumbled, grabbing his school bag from the floor and heading out. "See you later." 

Linda waited until the front door shut before she attacked. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" she screamed. 

"I didn't fucking do anything!" 

"You don't get suspended for nothing Frank! Tell me what this is all about!" 

"It's nothing. My stupid teacher constantly yells at me for wearing make-up and I'm sick of it! I feel so fucking degraded every time I go into the class just because of the way I choose to look and it's not fair! The bastard had it coming to him!" 

Linda looked slightly calmer. Only slightly though. "Frank, if someone is making fun of you, you deal with it properly, not torment the poor guy!" 

"You make it sound like he's the victim!" 

Linda gave me a filthy look. "I feel sorry for anyone that has to undergo the wrath of Frank. What did you say to him?" 

"I told him I wasn't going to stop wearing make up and to hit me up if he ever wanted to sort out that fucking ugly face of his, gave him a few beauty tips," I muttered bitterly, rolling my eyes. 

I could see the smirk that desperately wanted to break out on her face, but she held it back well. 

"I'm disappointed in you. But you know what, if you want to ruin your education and your future that's totally fine with me," Linda muttered angrily, turning to leave.

"Sorry." 

She stopped at the door. "You get that from your dad too." 

"What?" 

"That. That thing when you say you're sorry but you never mean it. When you tell me lies to keep me happy when really you're just screwing me over." 

"I mean it Linda." 

She shook her head. "Night Frank." 

After she left I simply lay down on the bed and stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to keep myself from bursting into tears. She always knew how to make me feel sorry, how to fucking guilt trip me. 

Not this time though. I wasn't going to feel guilty for being who I was. 

**************

After a sleepless night, I decided to go out and see Bert. Linda had already left for work and there was no food in the house. Bert's grandma was a great cook anyway, so the obvious thing to do was to go over to Bert's. 

Bert lived on an actual street unlike myself. His house wasn't huge and wooden and creepy and surrounded by empty fields with a fucking dirt track and a barn in the backyard. 

His house was average sized with a pretty garden out front that was his grandfather's prize possession and was coated in faded white paint. 

Bert saw me coming and appeared out of his bedroom window, grinning at me. "Hey Frankie." 

I grinned back."Hey." 

"Linda didn't kill you then?" 

"I just about got away alive," I replied, rolling my eyes. 

Be snorted. "Hey, stay there, I'll be out in a minute. We're going to meet my friends." 

Bert came tripping out of his house a few minutes later, still in the process of pulling a t-shirt on over his head and shoving his feet in his shoes. 

"Robert McCracken, where do you think you're going?" cried a shrill voice from inside the house. 

"I'm going out Grandma!" Bert called back, cringing at his full title. 

"Not without breakfast you aren't! Get back in here!" 

Bert groaned and turned around, shuffling back to the house. I followed him, secretly pleased his grandma had called him back in. 

She was in the kitchen, her greying hair tied up and her thick bifocal glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose. "Frank! I didn't see you there, have some muffins!" 

I gladly helped myself to the warm, fresh blueberry muffins that were sat waiting on the table and wolfing it down, managing to mumble out a thank you around the food. 

"See, why can't you eat like that? It's like you don't appreciate my cooking Robert!" Bert's grandma scolded him, shoving a muffin to his face. 

"Because Frank has a giant black hole inside of his stomach that devours anything he puts in his mouth," Bert grumbled, picking at the muffin. 

She rolled her eyes and shoved him out door. "Fine, go on. Get out of here, but be back for dinner!" 

Bert was out the door in a flash, dragging me with him. 

"But the muffins!" I yelled in despair, reaching longingly towards the house. 

Bert laughed but kept dragging me to his car, unlocking it and slipping inside. I joined him and within seconds we were tearing out of the driveway. 

***************

"He owns a record store?" I asked in disbelief. 

"Well, no, it was his dad's but he took over when he retired," Bert explained. 

"That's awesome," I sighed in awe. "What did you say his name was again?" 

"He's called Ray." 

We pulled up outside of the record store a few minutes later and for some reason I started to feel kind of nervous as I followed Bert inside. What if Ray didn't like me? What if it was really awkward? And since when did I fucking care about this sort of stuff?

"Bert!" 

The high pitched voice made me jump slightly and I turned to see a guy about twice my height with a huge mane of frizzy Afro on top of his head. He was grinning wide and had an armful of records in his arms. 

"Hi Ray," Bert grinned back.

I found myself zoning out as they greeted each other, my eyes wandering around the store in amazement. The ceiling was made up entirely of giant posters and the walls a mural of some sort of weird music timeline that was really kind of awesome. 

"Frank?" 

I flinched when a hand touched my arm and blinked myself back into reality to find Bert and Ray staring at me. 

"Oh, sorry, I just sort of...zoned out?" I apologised, blushing. 

Bert's eyes softened and smiled lightly at me. "It's ok. I was just trying to introduce you. This is Ray, Ray this is Frank." 

"Hey," I smiled shyly. 

Ray grinned warmly at me and didn't bat an eyelid when Bert linked his fingers together with mine. 

I liked him a lot already.

"So you got excluded huh?" Ray asked after we'd been at the store for about an hour. 

"It was entirely Frank's fault," Bert insisted. "He's a bad influence on me!" 

"No way. You're the bad influence Bert, don't even try and blame this on Frank," Ray scoffed.

"Actually, I suppose it kind of was my fault," I confessed. "Not that it wasn't worth it." 

Bert just grinned at me and launched into the tale of how I'd gotten us kicked out of school for a week. 

Around midday the door swung open. I thought it would just be another customer but the way Bert and Ray greeted him made me think over wise. 

"Bob Bryar!" Bert screeched and flung himself at the guy, nearly knocking him to the ground. 

Bob was a little bit smaller than Ray with blonde hair and a lip ring, his eyes a deep cornflower blue and his jaw and throat covered in prickly blonde stubble. 

Bob just rolled his eyes as he pried Bert off him, holding him at arms length. "I missed you too Bert." 

"So you do love me after all!" Bert sniffed dramatically. "Anyway, this is Frank and he's my pumpkin and he's awesome so be nice to him." 

"Hi," I said, waving. 

Bob smiled. "Good to meet you Frank. I'm so sorry you know this irritating little shit though, it must be so hard for you." 

"I manage, just about," I laughed. 

"You're all conspiring against me," Bert pouted. 

"Oh shut your m-"

"Dude!" Ray hissed, slapping Bert across the head to shut him up. "Look!" 

We all turned to see where Ray was pointing. 

Across the street was a man with alabaster skin and flaming red hair, dressed completely in black. People were swarming away from him like he was a ticking time bomb. He kept his head down and his shoulders hunched, retreating into a tiny liquor store. 

"That's Gerard," Bert told me quietly, as if Gerard could hear us from across the street. 

So. I'd finally seen the infamous Gerard with my own two eyes.