Past Secrets Consume Us
Why Would She do That? (Gerard's Point of View)
"Who's the hottie?" said Mikey as Helena walked toward our table. I looked straight into her pale blue eyes, "Don't talk about her like that, "I said turning to glare at my little brother, "Ooh, Gerard's got a girlfriend," said Mikey. I gave him a well-deserved smack on the back of the head and he shut up. "Hey, is it okay if I sit with you and your friends? I don't know anyone here," said Helena, with a look i couldn't resist. "Of course," I said, standing up and pulling out a chair for her. She sat and I gestured to each guy as I said his name, "You've met Ray, that's Bob, the one with drool hanging out of the side of his mouth is Frank, and this freak is my little brother, Mikey." She looked each of them in the eye as I said their names. They all looked back and Mikey spoke up first, "So, you're the new chick right?" I kicked his shin under the table and he jumped, "Hey! I didn't do anything to deserve that!" I gave him the 'if you don't shut the hell up I'm gonna kill you' glare and he quickly snapped his mouth closed. Helena, being polite answered him without taking offense, "Yeah,that's me! Don't worry about it Gerard. I'm used to being called the new chick; it's not like i haven't heard much worse." Despite Helena not caring, I kept my evil glare on Mikey, "I'm still sorry about him. He hasn't exactly developed a brain-to-mouth filter yet." The boys chuckled but I noticed that Helena didn't laugh. She just sat there as if in deep contemplation of Mikey's lack of social skills. She finally popped back into reality and said, "So, how long have you guys known each other?" This time Bob and Ray popped in to answer. Ray said, "Gerard and I met in pre-k when Heather MacMillan tried to kiss me on the slide. I did a back flip to get away and Gerard ended up being my cushion on the way down, it's been true love ever since." Helena gave him a confused look and then realized he was joking so chuckled to herself a little. It seem that she wasn't used to humor but it was kind of endearing, like every other thing about her. Bob popped in next, "I met the dynamic duo when they were in first grade. Gerard thought it would be funny to pants a kindergartner and I ended up being his object of torture. I'm not sure why I wanted to be his friend but, here I am." Frank looked up and spoke for the first time since Helena had arrived, "That reminds me of how I met Mikey," at the mention of that story Mikey's face turned a deep shade of crimson and he covered his head with his hoodie cap, "Mikey and I were on our way to our first day of Kindergarten when, out of nowhere, Bob ran out of the bushes screaming like a banshee and scared the shit outta Mikey, literally. He started crying because he didn't want to meet his teacher with crap all over his pants so I, being the loving little boy that I was, lent him mine. Alright, I admit I just wanted an excuse to go to school half naked but either way the pictures are extremely cute." Helena burst into hysterical laughter and Frank acquired a smug look because he was the first to really make her laugh. Mikey buried his head further into his hoodie and muttered, "Somebody please shoot me." I laughed at his pain, like always but felt kind of sorry for the little guy so I stayed behind to walk with him when the bell rang.
"You okay, Mikey?" I asked walking with him to his class since it was right by mine. He looked up "Yeah, it's not like I had a chance with her anyways, I've seen the way she looks at you." That comment made me confused, "What look is that?" He chuckled and said, "You seriously don't notice it?" "Umm, no. What look," I said; not sure I liked where this was going since Mikey had a tendency to be wrong about these things. "Dude! She looks at you like you are the most amazing creature on the planet. It's like she's under a spell or something. She looks so haunted but, when you talk her whole face lights up." I stopped him in the middle of the hallway. "I've gotta go but we will talk about this later, this better not be one of your stupid conspiracy theories like when you told me you needed a shotgun and a match cause a zombie was locked in the closet. I got in trouble for letting you watch "Dawn of the Dead" and wasn't allowed to rent movies for a month," he glared at me, "I was twelve! Anyways, this is nothing like that. Frank saw it too!" as I walked off I said, "Whatever Mikey, I'll talk about this when we get home." he sighed and walked into his class.
I entered the art classroom. I wasn't so great at art but I needed the credits so, here I was. I headed towards the back of the classroom where Frank said he'd be. Instead of Frank I encountered a much prettier easel-mate. "Gerard, you didn't say you liked art," said Helena. I watched her face trying to see if it really did light up, "I do, I just suck at it. You might want to partner with Frank for everything. My best masterpiece was supposed to be a kitten; it looks like a kitten after it fell off a water tower into a marsh." She giggled and said, "You can't be that horrible. Plus, I'm not so awesome myself." I started to protest when a white smock came hurtling towards me covering my face, "What the hell!" I said, pulling it out of the way and seeing Frank holding a palette and giggling like the stupid hyena from "The Lion King". Helena's eyes were almost twice their usual size from the shock of a random smock flying from one end of the room to the other. She looked at me and then at Frank then back at me trying to figure out what was going to happen. "Gerard, are you going to kill him?" I chuckled and said, "Of course not," Frank looked at me with a very releived face, "I'm just gonna make his life a living hell," Frank's eyes got a little bigger but he noticed the sarcasm in my voice and started to chuckle semi-nervously. Helena smiled a little then put on her smock and pulled back her hair into a ponytail.
Mr. Harring, the art teacher walked in. "This is going to be an extremely free, easy class. You will be required to turn in a one-page report on a famous artist each semester and an original work made by you each week. I do not care what form of art it is as long as it is appropriate. You may begin your first piece now." He walked over to his large desk chair and pulled out a poetry book. "Are all of your classes like this? All of my teachers so far have read a book while the whole class does whatever they want," said Helena with a shocked look on her face. I chuckled and said, "Basically, all they care is that you can pass the state tests and they are so easy that it's pretty much common sense. We crunch for about a month before the test and slack the rest of the year." she smiled, "I think I'm going to like it here."
I watched her intently as she roamed the room. Other than the fact that she didn't know where anything was, she seemed to know exactly what she was doing. She grabbed every item like she already had her piece created in her mind and it just needed a physical form. She collected seven items: a small brush, a palette, a thick brush, small tubs of red, yellow, and blue paint, and a paper towel. She made her way back to the easel beside me and set her newly acquired items down on the table between us. She placed a circle of each kind of paint on the palette and started mixing colors. I kept watching, hoping that my staring wasn't freaking her out.
After she had all the colors she wanted she rolled up her sleeves and began to paint. It amazed me how she already knew exactly what she wanted to make. It always takes me forever to decide and then i change my mind several times after I've begun. A woman's form appeared on the easel, she left the face blank and worked on a basic silhouette. The woman was shown waist up, with her hands pulled together as if holding something. I really wanted to know what was in her hands but I decided to just watch and see where Helena took the painting. I watched her intently, noticing every single brush-stroke and kept trying to figure out what was in the woman's hands. As Helena began to work on the woman's face Frank grabbed my arm and pulled him over to the side.
"Gee, look at her wrist." I looked at the woman's wrist and said, "Frank, what are you talking about? I don't see anything." Frank pointed at Helena's wrist, "How can you not see that?" I looked at Helena's wrist and gasped. There were large, deep gashes in her arm. "Is that what i think it is," I said, surprised that I could even get the words out. "I'm not gonna jump to conclusions but that's exactly what i think too. I didn't think she was like that." I sat down in the middle of the floor and put my head in my hands. "Gee, are you alright? Dude, get up," said Frank, pulling on my arm trying to get me to stand up. Helena looked up from her painting and saw me in the middle of the floor. She grabbed Frank's arm and pulled him over to the side. I couldn't tell what they were saying but they kept making gestures my way.
A few minutes later Frank made a frustrated gesture and returned to his easel. Helena walked over to me and sat down. "What's wrong?" she touched my forearm as she said it. My arm tingled at the touch but I just stared at her wrist. "Why would you do that?" she looked confused, "Do what?" she said then a look of realization crossed her face. She pulled down her sleeves. "I d-don't know it's just-" a single tear rolled down her cheek. I couldn't stand seeing her cry. I stood up and pulled her with me. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to make it better. She just stood there, crying.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. She pulled away, "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have pulled up my sleeves. It's too late now, you've already seen it. Did Frank?" I wiped away a smear of eyeliner from her cheek and nodded my head. "I didn't even notice until he told me, i was too distracted by your painting. What's in her hands?" She made a distressed face when I said that Frank knew but, at the mention of her painting her expression became brighter. "That," she said with a mischievous look, "is a secret.". She walked back to her easel and started to paint again. I had a feeling that Helena would eventually tell me what was inside and, the fact that I had an excuse for spending more time with her made me very happy.
"You okay, Mikey?" I asked walking with him to his class since it was right by mine. He looked up "Yeah, it's not like I had a chance with her anyways, I've seen the way she looks at you." That comment made me confused, "What look is that?" He chuckled and said, "You seriously don't notice it?" "Umm, no. What look," I said; not sure I liked where this was going since Mikey had a tendency to be wrong about these things. "Dude! She looks at you like you are the most amazing creature on the planet. It's like she's under a spell or something. She looks so haunted but, when you talk her whole face lights up." I stopped him in the middle of the hallway. "I've gotta go but we will talk about this later, this better not be one of your stupid conspiracy theories like when you told me you needed a shotgun and a match cause a zombie was locked in the closet. I got in trouble for letting you watch "Dawn of the Dead" and wasn't allowed to rent movies for a month," he glared at me, "I was twelve! Anyways, this is nothing like that. Frank saw it too!" as I walked off I said, "Whatever Mikey, I'll talk about this when we get home." he sighed and walked into his class.
I entered the art classroom. I wasn't so great at art but I needed the credits so, here I was. I headed towards the back of the classroom where Frank said he'd be. Instead of Frank I encountered a much prettier easel-mate. "Gerard, you didn't say you liked art," said Helena. I watched her face trying to see if it really did light up, "I do, I just suck at it. You might want to partner with Frank for everything. My best masterpiece was supposed to be a kitten; it looks like a kitten after it fell off a water tower into a marsh." She giggled and said, "You can't be that horrible. Plus, I'm not so awesome myself." I started to protest when a white smock came hurtling towards me covering my face, "What the hell!" I said, pulling it out of the way and seeing Frank holding a palette and giggling like the stupid hyena from "The Lion King". Helena's eyes were almost twice their usual size from the shock of a random smock flying from one end of the room to the other. She looked at me and then at Frank then back at me trying to figure out what was going to happen. "Gerard, are you going to kill him?" I chuckled and said, "Of course not," Frank looked at me with a very releived face, "I'm just gonna make his life a living hell," Frank's eyes got a little bigger but he noticed the sarcasm in my voice and started to chuckle semi-nervously. Helena smiled a little then put on her smock and pulled back her hair into a ponytail.
Mr. Harring, the art teacher walked in. "This is going to be an extremely free, easy class. You will be required to turn in a one-page report on a famous artist each semester and an original work made by you each week. I do not care what form of art it is as long as it is appropriate. You may begin your first piece now." He walked over to his large desk chair and pulled out a poetry book. "Are all of your classes like this? All of my teachers so far have read a book while the whole class does whatever they want," said Helena with a shocked look on her face. I chuckled and said, "Basically, all they care is that you can pass the state tests and they are so easy that it's pretty much common sense. We crunch for about a month before the test and slack the rest of the year." she smiled, "I think I'm going to like it here."
I watched her intently as she roamed the room. Other than the fact that she didn't know where anything was, she seemed to know exactly what she was doing. She grabbed every item like she already had her piece created in her mind and it just needed a physical form. She collected seven items: a small brush, a palette, a thick brush, small tubs of red, yellow, and blue paint, and a paper towel. She made her way back to the easel beside me and set her newly acquired items down on the table between us. She placed a circle of each kind of paint on the palette and started mixing colors. I kept watching, hoping that my staring wasn't freaking her out.
After she had all the colors she wanted she rolled up her sleeves and began to paint. It amazed me how she already knew exactly what she wanted to make. It always takes me forever to decide and then i change my mind several times after I've begun. A woman's form appeared on the easel, she left the face blank and worked on a basic silhouette. The woman was shown waist up, with her hands pulled together as if holding something. I really wanted to know what was in her hands but I decided to just watch and see where Helena took the painting. I watched her intently, noticing every single brush-stroke and kept trying to figure out what was in the woman's hands. As Helena began to work on the woman's face Frank grabbed my arm and pulled him over to the side.
"Gee, look at her wrist." I looked at the woman's wrist and said, "Frank, what are you talking about? I don't see anything." Frank pointed at Helena's wrist, "How can you not see that?" I looked at Helena's wrist and gasped. There were large, deep gashes in her arm. "Is that what i think it is," I said, surprised that I could even get the words out. "I'm not gonna jump to conclusions but that's exactly what i think too. I didn't think she was like that." I sat down in the middle of the floor and put my head in my hands. "Gee, are you alright? Dude, get up," said Frank, pulling on my arm trying to get me to stand up. Helena looked up from her painting and saw me in the middle of the floor. She grabbed Frank's arm and pulled him over to the side. I couldn't tell what they were saying but they kept making gestures my way.
A few minutes later Frank made a frustrated gesture and returned to his easel. Helena walked over to me and sat down. "What's wrong?" she touched my forearm as she said it. My arm tingled at the touch but I just stared at her wrist. "Why would you do that?" she looked confused, "Do what?" she said then a look of realization crossed her face. She pulled down her sleeves. "I d-don't know it's just-" a single tear rolled down her cheek. I couldn't stand seeing her cry. I stood up and pulled her with me. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to make it better. She just stood there, crying.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. She pulled away, "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have pulled up my sleeves. It's too late now, you've already seen it. Did Frank?" I wiped away a smear of eyeliner from her cheek and nodded my head. "I didn't even notice until he told me, i was too distracted by your painting. What's in her hands?" She made a distressed face when I said that Frank knew but, at the mention of her painting her expression became brighter. "That," she said with a mischievous look, "is a secret.". She walked back to her easel and started to paint again. I had a feeling that Helena would eventually tell me what was inside and, the fact that I had an excuse for spending more time with her made me very happy.
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