Making the Grade

“I must say, I never quite believed in love at first sight. I was always a realist, thinking you had to know a person before falling for them. But, recent events have forced me to reconsider my views.”

I sit through Frank’s class the next day, minding my own business. I don’t really talk much; I couldn’t sleep last night. I’ve been feeling kind of depressed lately, so I spend a lot of my night contemplating life and suicide when really, I should be sleeping.
Mr. Iero keeps eyeing me throughout the class, so much that I have to feel around on my face to see if there’s something on it. At the end of class, he calls out, “Gerard, come see me.”
The retreating kids give a chorus of “OoooooooOOOOOOOOOOH” as they leave, and Mr. Iero gives them a stern look and a flap of the hand.
I walk over, my knees feeling week. I lean on the desk behind me once I stand in front of his desk, afraid of collapsing.
“So, Gerard, I hate to be intrusive but…” Mr. Iero’s hazel eyes bore through me as he talks, as if he were trying to study me. “Are you eating right, kiddo? I mean, your skin is pale, you look exhausted, and…. You just seem out of it.”
When I don’t reply within a second, Mr. Iero throws his hands into the air, running one through his hair as he continues, “I don’t know, it could be nothing.”
“No, I’m eating right,” I assure. “I’m not sleeping.”
“Oh,” Mr. Iero replies. “Well, you might want to try exercising before you go to bed.”
All I can think of is how many people have told me that. “Thanks, I will.”
“See you, Gerard,” Mr. Iero says, looking down at his papers and grabbing a pen, dismissing me.
“Bye,” I respond.
Wow, Frank is such a good guy. He was worried about me. About me! Nobody’s scared for me, ever, not even myself. And sometimes, I feel like that’s way fucked up.
I eat lunch with Ray and Bob again. As I sit down, Ray nudges me, asking,
“So, what did Mr. Iero want to see you for?”
“He just wanted to make sure I was okay,” I answer. “Gosh, he’s such a good guy, isn’t he?”
“Oh…. My God,” Ray says.
“What?” I question.
Ray slaps my arm, grinning as he realizes, “You like him!”
My face flushes, as I retort, “No I don’t!”
“Oh, but you do!” Ray continues. “That makes so much sense. Oh, I must say, he’s a bit old for you, but other than that, I ship it.”
“Shut up!” I demand. “I don’t like him!” I turn to Bob, desperate. “You believe me Bob, don’t you?”
“Dude, I don’t mean to be a downer to you, but I’m not even in your class, and I know you like him,” Bob replies. “It’s all anyone’s talking about.”
“People are talking about me?!” I hiss.
“Well, yeah! I mean, you love a guy teacher, so it’s kind of gossip gold,” Bob points out.
“Fuck!” I curse, slamming my head into my hands. “Why me? God!”
“So, what are you going to do about it?” Ray questions.
I peer up at him, asking, “About what?”
“About how you like Mr. Iero,” Ray responds. “What’s his name? Oh yeah, Frank.”
“I wasn’t going to do anything,” I admit earnestly.
“What? You can’t do that!” Ray exclaims.
“Why not?” I reply.
“Yeah, why not?” Bob agrees.
“Because! You don’t just like him Gerard, you love him,” Ray says. “I can tell by the way you look at him.”
My gut twists, because I know it’s true. I love Frank, everything about him. From the very first time we met, when he defended me. “Yeah, well, so? I’m a student, it’s not like I can do anything about it!”
“Oh, but you can,” Ray insists. “Gerard, you just have to make your move? He shoots you down, so what? Get over it, move on, then you won’t spend every day aching over him or you won’t spend your future thinking about what could’ve happened.”
I consider this, and then hang my head. “Tell me what I should do.”
“Um…….” Ray begins. He rubs his afro, squinting. “Hm. I don’t know. Bob, you got anything?”
“My sister watches gay porn,” Bob informs.
“Dude, ew!” Ray objects.
“No! I mean, in this one, the teacher started spanking the student,” Bob suggests. He sits back, rubbing his beard and realizing, “But you’re not a teacher.”
“You’re an idiot,” Ray mumbles.
“You guys, I’m serious, what do I do?” I ask.
Ray thinks some more, again squinting and rubbing his hair. We’re all quiet, until Ray finally snaps his fingers.
“What is it?” I ask, eager.
“It’s a good one,” Ray assures, smiling.
“What?” I repeat.
“So get this,” Ray starts. He clears his throat, and then lifts his hands as he states, “Tell him.”
My jaw drops open, and not in a good way. “Are you fucking with me?”
“What? No!” Ray replies, seeming offended. “It’s the best way to do it!”
“You’re saying, that I should walk up to Frank, and be like, “Hey, I know I’m fucking seventeen and all, but you’re hot, I love you, and we should totes get together and make babies”,” I say.
“Well, maybe not so blatantly,” Ray responds. “Wait, did you say you wanted kids with him?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I dismiss, shoving around corn on my plate.
Ray opens his mouth to say something, but luckily for me the bell rings, not only cutting him off, but also giving me an excuse to leave. As I walk down the hall, my mind races.
Do I want kids with Frank? Should I tell him? Even if I do profess my love to him or whatever, should I do it the way Ray suggested? All of these questions swim through my head, and I don’t have an answer to a single one of them.