Status: Will be updated as often as possible.
Knives and Pens
Chapter Eight
*Gerard POV*
We stay in our little spot for the rest of the period, smoking, making idle chat and just…being. I’m doing my best to act nonchalant, and like I’m totally not checking Andy out, and how fucking sexy he looks with his lips wrapped around the cancer stick, and how his cheeks hollow when he inhales, and how his mouth forms a perfect little ‘o’ shape when he exhales a cloud of smoke from his beautiful lips.
That’s why I’m sketching while Andy lies down. I’m trying to distract myself by pouring my attention onto the paper in front of me, which is a difficult feat when Andy is lying so close to me, smoking his cigarette. His top is no longer covering his entire torso – no, of course it has to rise up, showing a little peek of alabaster pale skin on his enviable flat stomach. I’m stuck torn between two emotions. On the one hand I'mself-conscious over my own slightly chubbier frame, which I hide under many layers to fool people into thinking I’m thinner than I am. I’m also a little entranced by the milky white skin, and just how smooth it looks, and how sexy it looks and just how much I want to reach out and touch it, feel it under my fingers with a soft caress. I wonder if it would tickle him, or if he is one of those irritating people who claim to not be ticklish.Fuck, I really can’t be thinking this way. This…this is not going to do me any good, filling my head with fantasies about a guy who is now officially a part of our group. Before, when he was 'hot new guy', I had a free pass to daydream about him to my heart’s content, and indulge my mind in the filthiest, dirtiest scenarios that would make a porn star blush.
Now, because of Frank Fucking Iero’s insistence on including Andy into our group, the free pass has been revoked. Well, in theory. Of course, my mind has a mind of its own; and sometimes, when I drift off, it brings me back to those fantasies. Sometimes I’m on my knees, hearing him moan with that low voice of his which would drive anybody insane. Other times, it’s Andy on his knees, and those are just the best. More than once, I’ve had to sit in class for a few extra minutes and will my hard on to go away before people could notice. I love and hate when my brain takes over like that. The guilt factor is lessened a little, because I sure as hell am not going to feel bad about something I’m not fully conscious of. It’s still there, though, underneath the embarrassment and frustration. Andy is a pretty nice guy, and while I’m pretty much certain that’s he’s gay by now (if my gaydar is anything to go by), he’s never going to be interested in me. I would like to think that maybe he’s thinking of me too sometimes, when I risk a glance at him and see him looking in my direction, but with a faraway look on his face that shows that he is there, but not really there. I often find myself wondering about him, and what he’s thinking, and how he’s finding life as a new kid, and what he really thinks of our little group, of me. Sometimes I think I catch him sneaking glances at me too, not necessarily in a sexual, perverted way, but in an ‘I’m-trying-to-figure-you-out’ way.
I’ll admit that I’m reserved around him. I’m reserved around everyone, though, so it’s not like I’m giving him special treatment that way. No, I’m trying to stay normal, and normal means that I stay quiet, a little bit on the outside of the group and our conversations, and I still try and fail to sneak away. The only thing is, sometimes Andy follows me to class now, so it’s a harder task to ‘get to class early’ when Andy stops the conversation he’s in and tags along. Not that I mind, not really. Okay, I do a bit, but really only because I’m afraid that every extra second I spend with him is another second where I’m liable to say, or do, something stupid, retarded and fucked up and embarrass myself to the point where all dignity and pride is lost. It’s bad enough that I’m the freak of our little group of misfits – I can do without going further up the pathetic scale. I’m okay with where I am on the scale at the moment.
The bell goes off in the distance, signalling that biology has come to an end. The thing is, I really don’t want go back into the school. I don’t want to go back to the stifling, suffocating building and stay stuck inside a small classroom with a bunch of assholes and a half decent teacher who might give me a good enough grade to get into college, if she’s so inclined. I don’t want to have to hunch over a graffiti-ridden desk and fade into the background to avoid the judgemental eyes of my peers. I want to go out, go away, and feel free for once. I want to do something unexpected of me. I’ll skip a class here or there, but to ditch a whole afternoon would be something different. I would be risking my parents getting a phone call from the principal, and detention, and most of all, attention. I hate attention almost as much as I hate everything else in this world.
“How about we ditch?”
The words are out of my mouth, let loose into the world, and clashing with the music pumping from Andy’s phone. Andy sits up on his elbows, hiding the pale skin that was showing from my view, now that his top is covering the flesh again. His bright blue eyes, which are ringed with eyeliner, as always (something I have forgone today, out of pure laziness, and, you know, Mikey’s hollering and door-bashing, waking me up five minutes before we were due to leave). Andy looks at me, confused for a split second, before that beautiful smile tugs at his handsome face, and I’m doing my best not to blush like the fucking girl I feel like right now. Jesus, is it possible for a guy to be so…hot? Adorable? Just so perfect?
“What do you have in mind?”
“I don’t know… There’s a shitty theatre down on Main Street? They show a lot of sci-fi and shit.”
Andy shrugs, his smile going a little lopsided, and somehow it’s even more freaking adorable than before.
“Screw it! Let’s blow this joint.”
I can’t help the smile that curves on my face.
“How long have you been waiting to say that?”
“Forever,” Andy sighs wistfully.
I giggle, stowing my sketchbook away in my messenger bag and grunting a little when I pull myself to my feet. Andy is already standing up, one strap over a broad shoulder, and that smile still on his face. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea to invite him along. I can’t seem to make up my mind. I want to be around him,but I’m also terrified of being around him.
We walk in silence on the way to my car, and it’s comfortable, and not at all awkward. It feels like we’re in some spy movie, with all our head-turning, stopping and stalling, and occasionally ducking behind someone’s car to avoid being seen. Not that anyone is out in theparking lot, but it just feelsappropriate. The fact that Andy goes along with it, no, fucking enjoys doing it too, makes me want to kiss him. Because how on earth can he be so fucking dorky too, and just, what’s that word I used, oh yeah, perfect.
We make it to my car, and after a millionth check that nobody is around, I start the engine and we blast out of theparking lot. Or, you know, drive at a reasonable speed so as to not draw attention to us because of screeching tires and a revving engine. Once we leave the parking lot, we’re both laughing like maniacs. I haven’t laughed in a long time, and my chest muscles hurt from the long forgotten habit. It’s weird, and it’s nice, and it’s a little dizzying, and my vision is a little blurred from the moisture building up in my eyes. For the first time in forever, I kind of feel like a normal teenager. I think I kind of like it.
**
“Fifty points, if you hit them on the head,” I whisper, pointing to the couple in front of us making out with a reckless abandon for public decency. It's fucking gross, having to watch someone stick their tongue down another person’s throat. Maybe I’m bitter, because I’ve never really gotten the chance to do that kind of thing, but we’re in the middle of watching The Wrath of Khan, and it’s totally not cool to have it interrupted by the horny couple.
“Deal,” Andy glares at them, just as irritated by the sight as I am. Did I mention just how gross it is to watch some college student slurp and grope a pretty blond girl?
Thus begins the popcorn throwing war, which is pretty much a one-sided thing, but it makes the whole horrible, disgusting sight a little bit more amusing. What makes it even more hilarious, is that it takes them five minutes to realise that they’re being pelted with butter covered popcorn. We wasted almost half our carton, but it was worth it when they eventually pulled apart. We probably should have anticipated their reaction wouldn’t be great, but the guy standing up, and threatening us, wasn’t expected. Andy is a big guy, but this guy is bigger. He also works out, and his t-shirt shows off every muscle. If I wasn’t so terrified, I might find him attractive. But I am a bit scared, and once the nameless guy’s attention is turned back towards his girlfriend, we leg it out of the cinema, abandoning our popcorn for the staff to clean up later.
“Dude, I thought he was going to punch us,” Andy giggles once we’re a block away from the theatre, and safe from the asshole who I bet is still playing tonsil tennis with his girlfriend.
“I know. Fuck, we have to do that again.”
“Fuck, yeah!” Andy agrees, before we do some manly fist bumping and go get some burgers and fries.
We stay in our little spot for the rest of the period, smoking, making idle chat and just…being. I’m doing my best to act nonchalant, and like I’m totally not checking Andy out, and how fucking sexy he looks with his lips wrapped around the cancer stick, and how his cheeks hollow when he inhales, and how his mouth forms a perfect little ‘o’ shape when he exhales a cloud of smoke from his beautiful lips.
That’s why I’m sketching while Andy lies down. I’m trying to distract myself by pouring my attention onto the paper in front of me, which is a difficult feat when Andy is lying so close to me, smoking his cigarette. His top is no longer covering his entire torso – no, of course it has to rise up, showing a little peek of alabaster pale skin on his enviable flat stomach. I’m stuck torn between two emotions. On the one hand I'mself-conscious over my own slightly chubbier frame, which I hide under many layers to fool people into thinking I’m thinner than I am. I’m also a little entranced by the milky white skin, and just how smooth it looks, and how sexy it looks and just how much I want to reach out and touch it, feel it under my fingers with a soft caress. I wonder if it would tickle him, or if he is one of those irritating people who claim to not be ticklish.Fuck, I really can’t be thinking this way. This…this is not going to do me any good, filling my head with fantasies about a guy who is now officially a part of our group. Before, when he was 'hot new guy', I had a free pass to daydream about him to my heart’s content, and indulge my mind in the filthiest, dirtiest scenarios that would make a porn star blush.
Now, because of Frank Fucking Iero’s insistence on including Andy into our group, the free pass has been revoked. Well, in theory. Of course, my mind has a mind of its own; and sometimes, when I drift off, it brings me back to those fantasies. Sometimes I’m on my knees, hearing him moan with that low voice of his which would drive anybody insane. Other times, it’s Andy on his knees, and those are just the best. More than once, I’ve had to sit in class for a few extra minutes and will my hard on to go away before people could notice. I love and hate when my brain takes over like that. The guilt factor is lessened a little, because I sure as hell am not going to feel bad about something I’m not fully conscious of. It’s still there, though, underneath the embarrassment and frustration. Andy is a pretty nice guy, and while I’m pretty much certain that’s he’s gay by now (if my gaydar is anything to go by), he’s never going to be interested in me. I would like to think that maybe he’s thinking of me too sometimes, when I risk a glance at him and see him looking in my direction, but with a faraway look on his face that shows that he is there, but not really there. I often find myself wondering about him, and what he’s thinking, and how he’s finding life as a new kid, and what he really thinks of our little group, of me. Sometimes I think I catch him sneaking glances at me too, not necessarily in a sexual, perverted way, but in an ‘I’m-trying-to-figure-you-out’ way.
I’ll admit that I’m reserved around him. I’m reserved around everyone, though, so it’s not like I’m giving him special treatment that way. No, I’m trying to stay normal, and normal means that I stay quiet, a little bit on the outside of the group and our conversations, and I still try and fail to sneak away. The only thing is, sometimes Andy follows me to class now, so it’s a harder task to ‘get to class early’ when Andy stops the conversation he’s in and tags along. Not that I mind, not really. Okay, I do a bit, but really only because I’m afraid that every extra second I spend with him is another second where I’m liable to say, or do, something stupid, retarded and fucked up and embarrass myself to the point where all dignity and pride is lost. It’s bad enough that I’m the freak of our little group of misfits – I can do without going further up the pathetic scale. I’m okay with where I am on the scale at the moment.
The bell goes off in the distance, signalling that biology has come to an end. The thing is, I really don’t want go back into the school. I don’t want to go back to the stifling, suffocating building and stay stuck inside a small classroom with a bunch of assholes and a half decent teacher who might give me a good enough grade to get into college, if she’s so inclined. I don’t want to have to hunch over a graffiti-ridden desk and fade into the background to avoid the judgemental eyes of my peers. I want to go out, go away, and feel free for once. I want to do something unexpected of me. I’ll skip a class here or there, but to ditch a whole afternoon would be something different. I would be risking my parents getting a phone call from the principal, and detention, and most of all, attention. I hate attention almost as much as I hate everything else in this world.
“How about we ditch?”
The words are out of my mouth, let loose into the world, and clashing with the music pumping from Andy’s phone. Andy sits up on his elbows, hiding the pale skin that was showing from my view, now that his top is covering the flesh again. His bright blue eyes, which are ringed with eyeliner, as always (something I have forgone today, out of pure laziness, and, you know, Mikey’s hollering and door-bashing, waking me up five minutes before we were due to leave). Andy looks at me, confused for a split second, before that beautiful smile tugs at his handsome face, and I’m doing my best not to blush like the fucking girl I feel like right now. Jesus, is it possible for a guy to be so…hot? Adorable? Just so perfect?
“What do you have in mind?”
“I don’t know… There’s a shitty theatre down on Main Street? They show a lot of sci-fi and shit.”
Andy shrugs, his smile going a little lopsided, and somehow it’s even more freaking adorable than before.
“Screw it! Let’s blow this joint.”
I can’t help the smile that curves on my face.
“How long have you been waiting to say that?”
“Forever,” Andy sighs wistfully.
I giggle, stowing my sketchbook away in my messenger bag and grunting a little when I pull myself to my feet. Andy is already standing up, one strap over a broad shoulder, and that smile still on his face. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea to invite him along. I can’t seem to make up my mind. I want to be around him,but I’m also terrified of being around him.
We walk in silence on the way to my car, and it’s comfortable, and not at all awkward. It feels like we’re in some spy movie, with all our head-turning, stopping and stalling, and occasionally ducking behind someone’s car to avoid being seen. Not that anyone is out in theparking lot, but it just feelsappropriate. The fact that Andy goes along with it, no, fucking enjoys doing it too, makes me want to kiss him. Because how on earth can he be so fucking dorky too, and just, what’s that word I used, oh yeah, perfect.
We make it to my car, and after a millionth check that nobody is around, I start the engine and we blast out of theparking lot. Or, you know, drive at a reasonable speed so as to not draw attention to us because of screeching tires and a revving engine. Once we leave the parking lot, we’re both laughing like maniacs. I haven’t laughed in a long time, and my chest muscles hurt from the long forgotten habit. It’s weird, and it’s nice, and it’s a little dizzying, and my vision is a little blurred from the moisture building up in my eyes. For the first time in forever, I kind of feel like a normal teenager. I think I kind of like it.
**
“Fifty points, if you hit them on the head,” I whisper, pointing to the couple in front of us making out with a reckless abandon for public decency. It's fucking gross, having to watch someone stick their tongue down another person’s throat. Maybe I’m bitter, because I’ve never really gotten the chance to do that kind of thing, but we’re in the middle of watching The Wrath of Khan, and it’s totally not cool to have it interrupted by the horny couple.
“Deal,” Andy glares at them, just as irritated by the sight as I am. Did I mention just how gross it is to watch some college student slurp and grope a pretty blond girl?
Thus begins the popcorn throwing war, which is pretty much a one-sided thing, but it makes the whole horrible, disgusting sight a little bit more amusing. What makes it even more hilarious, is that it takes them five minutes to realise that they’re being pelted with butter covered popcorn. We wasted almost half our carton, but it was worth it when they eventually pulled apart. We probably should have anticipated their reaction wouldn’t be great, but the guy standing up, and threatening us, wasn’t expected. Andy is a big guy, but this guy is bigger. He also works out, and his t-shirt shows off every muscle. If I wasn’t so terrified, I might find him attractive. But I am a bit scared, and once the nameless guy’s attention is turned back towards his girlfriend, we leg it out of the cinema, abandoning our popcorn for the staff to clean up later.
“Dude, I thought he was going to punch us,” Andy giggles once we’re a block away from the theatre, and safe from the asshole who I bet is still playing tonsil tennis with his girlfriend.
“I know. Fuck, we have to do that again.”
“Fuck, yeah!” Andy agrees, before we do some manly fist bumping and go get some burgers and fries.
♠ ♠ ♠
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