Three Ranks of Cool

“DODGEBALL!”

My eyes widened. Coach Hessler’s eyes were locked with mine, and he was smiling darkly.

My knees knocked together. I knew he did this to spite me. I was always the one who lodged a formal complaint every time we had to do some kind of game where the ball got thrown at you, because I always got either hit in the balls or bruised badly or even found myself with a bloody lip or nose.

“Way?” He turned to his TA that was sitting cross-legged on the bleachers and waited.

Gerard Way was quite possibly the most reluctant (and not needed) TA you could ever find on the face of the earth.

I say not needed because what do they do during PE? There are no papers to grade.

He would have been as uncool as I was, but he gained respect with the ability to create artistic invitations to parties that the popular kids threw, and because of it, he always merited an invite. He was as far away from the jock type as you could get. And I was ecstatic he was this period’s TA.

I got to look at him every third period. And he would always bandage me upif when I got hurt.

Gerard waved his hand to show he was listening, his dark hair falling elegantly in his eyes, not taking them from the page he was reading.

It was the same book he always read. The Catcher In The Rye.

“Pick two kids to be captains.”

Still without looking, he pointed to both ends of the line. The two boys smirked.

“Johnson, Howard, pick teams!” He barked again, blowing his whistle.

The two biggest jocks in the class (and his personal favorites) stood in front of everyone and categorized the kids into popularity groups as they picked. And in this hell called high school, there are three ranks: fucking popular, cool but not as awesome, and worthless shits.

I’ll give you one good guess what group I’m in.

I shook my black hair into my eyes and leaned against the wall, crossing my arms and thinking about Gerard, wondering if there was anything about him I couldn’t imagine.

And I had a pretty fucking wild imagination.

I zoned in and out of the world in the space of ten seconds, patting a beat on my legs and humming in my head. I tried to ignore the butterflies of sheer anxiety in my stomach as I watched the other males in the class get picked away little by little. Around half of them were left, so I decided to just take it easy and relax…

“I call Frank!”

My eyes jerked open and I looked at who was calling me.

Mark Johnson was pointing at me. I blinked a few more times in shock. I had gotten picked? And I wasn’t forced on a team?

“IERO! GET WITH YOUR TEAM NOW!” Part Pit Bull Hessler screeched at me. I willed my feet to move and got a few staggering steps before I tripped over thin air and landed on my hands and knees.

The entire class burst into laughter. And what hurt even worse was that I heard Gerard laugh a little.

Blood filled my hollow cheeks and turned them bright red. I shuffled over tomy team the team I was chosen to be on and stood a foot or two away from the other boys, trying to disappear through the floor.

I felt something smack the back of my head. I reached up and felt nothing but my scraggly hair. I looked around. My eyes fell on a boy whose name wasn’t important enough for me to remember. He had sandy blonde hair and he wore a smirk that said to every girl he met, I’m undressing you with my eyes. He reminded me of the guy on the cover of the book Hail Caesar.

“Hey fag.” He whispered, his eyes locked forward as to not get barked at by Hessler.

I assumed he was addressing me. I listened.

“You know why you weren’t picked last like you always are?”

I shrugged, not trusting myself with words.

He smiled. “We know the egos of the guys in here. They’ll want to take you down because you passed them up on the totem pole.”

I said nothing. I was starting to understand where this was going.

“And well, we wanted to see you break something that wasn’t outside your body.”

My face drained of color and I looked around. On the other team, every single boy was glaring in my direction.

Gerard, I know you and I only speak when you tell me to stop being a baby and suck it up, but I might need you to save me!

I shivered. Eye Guy smirked.

“You’re going fucking down, Pansy Bitch.”

I nearly fainted.

I never thought I’d die at sixteen.

The rubber balls were distributed to the teams evenly (six for each team. I didn’t get one) and we waited. I tried to stand as far back as I could from the other team.

But I was fighting a losing battle. Every guy that held a ball on the other team played baseball.

Just. My. Luck.

“Ready… set… aaaand…” Coach Hessler blew his whistle, and those twelve balls shot off like rockets. Six of those were aimed at me.

But, I had just one advantage.

I’m five three and weigh just around 110 pounds. I’m a small target, and I move fast.

I dodged most everything that came at me for the first, I don’t know, ten minutes. And, well, like every person with a Y chromosome and an unlimited supply of testosterone, I got cocky.

I started to kind of dance around and call out things that would have got my shoved in a locker in the halls. I then decided to cartwheel.

I executed it perfectly and yelled in triumph, then heard my ‘title’ being called.

“Hey Pansy Bitch!”

Stupidly, oh so stupidly, I looked. What. A. Mistake.

“Yell over this.”

And in a spurt of speed, the ball hit me square in the jaw.

I cried out in pain and fell backwards, clutching my mouth and jaw. I think it got dislocated.

Then again, I worried too much for my own good.

My vision was lined with black dots and I could barely breathe. I heard the distant shriek of Coach Hessler’s whistle as either a foul was called or he made all the boys stop so they wouldn’t murder me.

I’m guessing it was the second. He never called fouls.

“Come on, Iero, get your ass up!” I shook my head slightly, feeling my jaw and neck sting. “And why the hell not?”

“He cheated and threw a cheap shot.” The words were out of my mouth before my brain said shut up. In a matter of three seconds, I was being laughed at mercilessly by my stupid comment. My face got even redder than before.

“Ugh, fine. Way! Clean him up, his lip is bleeding.”

I heard footsteps walking in our direction. Coach Hessler helped me up and pushed me towards Gerard, who had his eyebrow raised at me.

I followed him to Coach’s office, where there was a first aid kit and a ceiling stained with the thoughts and fantasies that came out of my mind.

Thank god only I saw them, or else I’d never come out of my room.

I sat on top of the desk and waited for Gerard tocheck me out make sure I wasn’t critically injured.

“Okay, first thing’s first, can you move your jaw?”

I yawned. “Yeah, I think that seems to be in order.”

He rolled his beautiful hazel eyes. He picked up a wet wash cloth and ran it across my cheek, getting off the blood.

“It occurred to me,” He said as he got some peroxide. “That I always bandage you up, but never talk to you.”

“I’m sorry?” I said sarcastically, shrugging. He snorted and smiled.

He put a little on my lip and I jumped back. He rolled his eyes again. “Don’t be such a pansy.”

I cringed. That word struck a nerve. I expected it from the jerks and assholes (AKA everyone else) but not from him. I almost started to cry.

“Frank, man, what’s wrong?”

I wiped the peroxide off my lip and stood up. He stood about four or five inches taller than I did, but I felt a little threatening.

“You know what, Gerard? I am! I am a pansy! I’m a fucking fairy and want everyone to know it! So go ahead and tell those skanks and jerks you call friends so I can go back to being shoved into lockers in peace.”

Did I just say what I think I just said? Because that should have remained in a thought bubble.

His jaw hit the floor. He blinked a few times and looked like a fish out of water. “You… you’re gay?” He navigated the word carefully. I bit my lip, making it sting harder.

“Didn’t I just cover that? And you want to know what else? I enjoy getting hurt in PE because it gives me a reason to be alone in a room with you!”

“Excuse me?”

“You want it simpler?” I grabbed his shirt collar and made him look at me. “You’re gorgeous, Gerard!”

And as if some insane, but albeit brave, spirit entered me body, I stood up on tiptoes and crashed my lips onto his.

And I also think that some insane spirit entered Gerard’s body, because he slipped his tongue into my mouth and pressed his middle to mine, shoving me against the desk.

Was this the same Gerard? Oh, please, god, don’t be a dream.

I put one hand on the edge of the desk, gripping and keeping myself steady, while the other trailed down Gerard’s side and rested on his hip. Gerard’s hand did the exact same as mine, holding onto my hip tighter than I was on his, while the other hand snaked through my hair.

He disconnected his mouth from mine and smiled.

“Pansy baby, you have no idea how much I wanted to hear that.”