Distractions.

“A+ Gerard. Well done,” Jess whispered. I was used to her congratulating me every time I passed a test or got a good mark. But that meant she was doing it all the time, pardon me for my conceitedness but it’s the truth.

Our teacher continued along the row and hands Jess her work back. I watched her bubbly expression turn into one of dismay. “What’d you get?” I asked, trying to peek over her shoulder.

She blocked my view and shoved the papers into her bag roughly before turning back to me with a small and forced smile. I’m guessing she didn’t do too well.

“Fine,” she replied, her forced smile faltering on the blatant lie. I stare at her quizzically for a moment; she knows I know she’s lying. I don’t press it though; English is her favourite subject. She’s always happy that I get the best grades but English is a touchy area for her; she loves the subject with a passion.

She’s in the advanced classes, like me, but I know some of the work is difficult for her but she never lets me help her. I’ve never had to work to get here, everything’s always come naturally to me but she’s always had to work for it.

The bell for next lesson jerks me from my thoughts and I rush to gather all my books and shove them into my bag. Jess does the same and waits for me by the door. We both walk swiftly along the halls to our next lessons. She art and I gym. By the time I actually reach the gym I’m already five minutes late. Shit.

I’d give anything to be in that art room with Jess instead of in this rank smelling locker room, even though I can’t draw or paint to save my life. The locker room is almost empty, only Ray and Bob are left in here, talking. I pass by them silently, not even murmuring a hello.

“Hey Gee!” Ray calls from a few lockers down. I glance up and flash him a quick smile before returning to the depths of my cluttered locker. I try not to talk to Ray and Bob anymore and I’m glad they haven’t picked up on it. Or if they have, they haven’t said anything about it.

Just as I finish dragging my baggy gym shirt over my head someone claps me hard on the back, which sends me sprawling forwards. I catch myself on the edge of my locker just as a strong hand grabs my arm to stop me from falling even further towards the ground.

When I’ve righted myself and brushed my longish dark hair out of my eyes, I turn to face a sheepish looking Bob.

“Sorry dude. I didn’t mean to hit you so hard. You’re so fragile,” he exclaimed, gingerly holding up one of my bony wrists.

“Thanks,” I grumbled sarcastically, “We better get in the gym or Miss Thomas will give us extra push-ups or something equally as painful.”

As soon as the words came out of my mouth, Ray and Bob both started scrambling to get into the gym. I smirked at their reactions and trailed along behind them. Just as I had expected, all three of us were forced and subjected to extra P.E because of our lateness. Today just so happened to be running laps.

It was horrible, even Ray groaned when we she told us and he’s the best runner out of the three of us! I would have preferred the push-ups…

Bob was nice and said he would keep pace with me although I’m not as fast as he is. To equal everything out I decided I wouldn’t stop once during the five extra laps. So for the last half hour of gym everyone else got to sit out and watch Ray, Bob and I do laps. Miss Thomas is heartless.

I made it to the fourth lap before I started slowing down and feeling like I couldn’t go one anymore. I was surprised at my own endurance and stamina; I expected I would’ve collapsed ages back but I was determined not to let Bob down.

“You can…do this Gee,” Bob panted when he noticed that I started slowing. I didn’t think I could but I gritted my teeth and sped up as much as my spindly legs would allow. That’s when everyone, surprisingly, starting to cheer us on.

When we finally finished the last lap I gasped for air, completely exhausted. Everyone clapped me on the back and there were many murmurs of ‘well done’ from everyone. The whole class, which were all male, looked at me with new-found respect. It took one comment from Miss Thomas to figure out why.

“I’m impressed. You ran those five laps without stopping once. I admit, I didn’t think you had it in you!”

Miss Thomas then proceeded to hand over a ten dollar note to one of the other guy in my class with a weird nickname I couldn’t remember. He grinned and pocketed the money. I glanced over at Bob who had also been watching the transaction and from the look on his face he knew what had happened too. I was in shock.

They had been betting on me.

The bell rang, signaling five minutes until next lesson and everyone groaned but grudgingly made their way to locker rooms. Bob walked over to me and offered me a hand but I waved it off.

“I’ll catch up later. See you in Math,” I wheezed. I swear I was never going to be late for gym again! I collapsed on the ground and stayed put until everyone else was long gone, just catching my breath. When I felt that I could breathe properly again I picked myself up off the ground and sluggishly made my way to the locker rooms. No one should be in there; this lesson no one has gym.

But when I entered the room someone was in there. There were two people from the sounds of it. I kept quiet, careful not to disturb whoever it was and quickly got changed. But I couldn’t help but listen to the voices.

“And you’re not going to give me shit again are you?” came the first voice. I didn’t know whether or not to be worried and I didn’t want to interfere; it wasn’t my place. The first voice was rough and deep, yet I could tell that if talking normally it would have a soft tone.

“No,” grunted the second voice, even deeper than the first.

“Good. Now repeat after me. I will not…”

There was silence and then a thump. From the strained grunt that followed I didn’t have to be psychic to know that the owner of the first voice had hit the owner of the second. Maybe I should interfere now…? I peeked around the edge of the lockers and caught a glimpse of two seniors I recognised. But what surprised me the most was that the smaller of the two was the one giving out the threats.

“I will not,” Voice Two repeated. A small smile formed on the smaller guy’s lips.

“Hurt or say anything..”

“Hurt or say anything…”

“About anyone’s sexuality,” the smaller guy finished. When Voice Two, whose name I now remembered was Gary, didn’t answer the smaller guy increased the force on his hands, pushing Gary harder into the wall.

“About anyone’s sexuality,” he grudgingly repeated.

“Thank you. Now get the hell out of here,” the smaller guy growled, releasing Gary from his grip. Gary shot out of the room like a bullet and the smaller guy turned his gaze to where I was in one quick movement.

“You want to make a crack at my sexuality too?” he spat. Seeing as he already knew I was there, I came out fully from behind the lockers and eyed him curiously. He wasn’t much shorter than I was but just from looking at him I could tell he was dangerous when he wanted or needed to be.

He stood waiting for my answer, arms folded tightly across his chest. He was defensive. Realising I hadn’t answered his question, I shook my head.

“No. Why would I? I don’t even know you, let alone your sexuality,” I answered calmly. He was taken aback by my response, probably from my calmness more than what I’d said. I could tell he had expected me to shake with fear; but I didn’t and wasn’t going to.

“Frank,” he stated bluntly. I stared at him, confused. My name’s not Frank…

“My name’s Frank. Frank Iero,” he explained, unable to keep the evident curiosity out of his eyes, “And I kick anyone’s ass that has a crack at me being bi.”

“Understandable,” I replied with a shrug of my shoulders. I stepped out of sight behind the rows of lockers to my own and grabbed my belongings. Frank walked around the row of lockers so that he could see me and he watched me with even more curiosity than before.

His arms were still folded, but now loosely; he wasn’t as defensive. His eyes wandered across my body, usually I would have been uncomfortable but I was too busy analyzing his body language to notice. His feet weren’t placed in a position to run like before; he was more relaxed. And everything else about his body language just read curiosity.

My eyes caught the clock above his head and I realised how late I actually was. “Fuck,” I murmured. The speech seemed to bring us both out of our quizzical regard for each other and I hurried to gather my stuff.

“I have to go. I’m late for Math,” I said, looking at Frank from the corner of my eyes while I tied my laces on the bench.

“Why don’t you come and skip class with me? I have a spare cigarette if you’d like,” he offered, hesitantly. I looked up sharply to see if he was serious. He was.

“I don’t smoke,” I said bluntly.

“Well just come then. You don’t have to smoke,” he replied.

“I don’t truant either,” I snapped. Frank raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Oh, I see. You’re one of those A straight students. Always gets good grades, friends with everyone, teachers adore you, never done anything that’s bad but you’re still curious. Curious to see what it’d be like to be like me. Just to see if you’re perfect parents will care. Just for a little attention because you’re an only child and they work all the time. Am I right?”

I had started grinning at his presumptuous evaluation of me but stopped as soon he mentioned parents. His evaluation had been strangely accurate until that part. But he’d struck a nerve.

“Wrong,” I muttered darkly. “You were right until you started getting cocky,” my voice began to get louder and louder the angrier I got, “My parents are divorced, I’m not an only child and they do notice me,” my voice had lowered to a threatening whisper. “They do notice me and you don’t know anything about me so don’t make assumptions.”

Frank’s expression didn’t change and his face remained blank. “I was right for most of it anyway. Guess you are an interesting person after all then, hey Gerard?”

I looked up sharply at the mention of my name. “How do you know my name? And what do the hell do you mean by ‘interesting person’?”

His expression turned pitiful and he only answered my first question, “It’s written on the book in your hand.”

“Oh. Well in answer to your so-called question. No, I won’t skip class with you. I should be at class right now,” I said, but I didn’t move.

“Another time then?” Frank asked.

“Yeah, whatever,” I replied, absentmindedly.

“I’ll hold you to that. But you better get to class my little straight A friend.” He grinned.

I narrowed my eyes at him slightly but nevertheless I nodded and turned to walk out of the locker room, at the door I paused and looked back at Frank. After a moment I waved. He smiled a little and waved back. I returned his smile and walked completely out of the locker room and off to Math.

I slipped into my Math class and apologized to the relief teacher before slipping into my seat beside Bob. “Where have you been?” he hissed. I was half an hour late.

“It took forever o recover from the laps,” I replied, lying smoothly. Bob smirked at me, satisfied with my answer and turned back to doing whatever it was he was doing before I got here. The relief teacher handed me a sheet of algebra and I worked through it inattentively.

My thoughts were elsewhere; they were on my encounter with Frank.
Did I really agree to skip class with him sometime?