And Then We Will Destroy Our Bodies

Frank skidded to a stop out side his classroom. It seemed like he was forever hesitating outside this stupid door. He pulled the paper from his back pack, satisfied with the final draft he’d finally gotten to sleep around 3am. Gotten to sleep only to dream about Gerard and his black pants, only in his dream they were tight and rubbing up against him and god, it was so hott…Two days later and he was still thinking about him. Frank stopped himself from recalling the rest of the dream as he took a breath and entered the class room. Everyone was already there and Mrs. Kent was explaining some sort of sentence structure at the board.

“Frank,” Mrs. Kent stopped mid-sentence to call attention to his entrance, “Thank you for finally making it…late is better than never.”

Frank placed his paper on his teacher’s desk and then slid into his seat behind a girl with an impossibly long ponytail. He couldn’t take his eyes off of his paper laying face up on his teacher’s desk, he had a very strong urge to run up there and snatch it back so it wouldn’t be read or graded. But he knew he couldn’t, it was a stupid assignment but he had to do it one way or another.

Frank absently scribbled in his notebook, a little tune in his head.

No sex, no booze, no wine, no women
No you, no me, no us, no-

Frank paused; he had been poked in the back with a pencil, he was poked again and He stiffened a little. A crumpled piece of paper was tossed over his shoulder and landed in his lap. He debated whether to read it or not…Mrs. Kent was writing something on the board, talking about syllables.

Freshman year he had been teased and bullied constantly for being something less than manly and athletic. (gay.)

This year hadn’t been so bad since he came back from the summer a little less thin and girlish and a Mohawk hair style, not to mention a manned up badass Jimmy at his side. They smoked and cussed and lived it up happy now to only be called fags behind their backs.

Slowly, Frank smoothed out the wad of paper in his lap, he glanced at it quickly and sighed.

Frank Iiro likes dick!

Without even looking up he pulled a sharpie from the front pocket of his messenger bag, uncapped it and wrote in large print under it

Its Ieroyou dumb shit. Get it right.

Frank re-crumpled it and tossed it over his shoulder. He had wanted to write “who’s Dick?” but he thought that Jay Banister was better left unprovoked. Jay being linebacker on the football team and all that shit, it wasn’t much use to run from him. Sure he was only a sophomore, but he had athletics on his side, and that’s all anyone really cares about. Especially you if you’re the one he’s using his fists on.

Frank got a kick in the back of his leg just above his ankle,

“Who you calling a dumb shit, fag?” was whispered threateningly in his ear.

“Fuck off.” Frank said simply over his shoulder.

“Boy’s is there a problem?” Mrs. Kent was turned from the board, a piece of white chalk in her hand, she looked from Frank to Jay and then back again.

“Frank, I’d like to see you after class please.”

Frank slumped down in his seat, great, he thought, I am so going to spend the rest of today bruised in a locker.

It was only a few more minutes of practically hearing Jay’s smug smile behind before the bell rang. Frank stayed seated as everyone grabbed their bags and shuffled out of the room, Jay paused in front of Frank to smirk and say “I’ll see ya out there, Pansy”

Frank only sighed and collected his things before heading up to the front of the room where Mrs. Kent was waiting for him. Shit, shit, shit.

Mrs. Kent buttoned her peach cardigan and sat back in her chair before she started…

“Frank where is your attention these days? During class you’re out of it and spacey or sleeping, your language is rapidly getting worse and you know I don’t allow that in my classroom. Worse now it’s showing up in your work.” She looked to frank for an answer but Frank only shrugged.

“I read your essay’s last year Frank; they didn’t contain this sort of filth.”

“Its how I express myself!” Frank protested, he had only used ‘fuck’ once for the love of god!

“Well, it’s a good poem, but I’m going to have to ask you to redo it, this time with out the profanity, unless you want to keep the standing grade.”

She held out the paper to Frank, a fat red D in the top right hand corner. Frank took the paper and pushed it into his bag, hoisting it a little higher onto his shoulder.

“I’ll keep it,” Frank muttered. He didn’t give a fuck about his English grade; he had other things to worry about, like Jay Banister waiting for him in the hallway.

“Fine,” Mrs. Kent sighed dismissidly, “Go on then, you’re late for math.”

Frank turned to go, That’s right, not only late and it’s not my fault but late and the moment I step into the hallway I’m going to get pounced on and beaten. Yay!

Frank stepped cautiously into the hallway and looked both ways before starting towards his locker, surprisingly, Jay was no where to be seen. Cautiously he headed down the hallway; there weren’t that many places to hide in an empty hallway of a high school.

Frank got to his locker and turned the combination to the lock, he felt a hand on his shoulder…Shit! Without hesitating he whipped around and swiftly kicked his assailant in the crotch…HARD.

He was about to make a run for it when he paused a second to realize that the person he had just crotched and that was now doubled over on the floor gasping wasn’t Jay, or any kid for that matter, it was Mr. Simmons.

The assistant principle.