Intuition.

My first day of school was only halfway through. This was my first break and I couldn’t believe the amount of people who’d come and talked to me. How many?

None.

I was sitting on my own and picking my lunch, aware of the other student’s curious gazes. But, surprisingly, they didn’t come over and talk to me. I was so used to people doing this at other schools that I was a little confused, I guess.

Now I was just wishing that anyone would come over and start a decent conversation. I didn’t care who it was.

I could see Gerard Way over on the oval; he was playing soccer with some other guys who were a little familiar from other classes. I’d give almost anything to be out there and playing with them; I was pretty good at soccer.

It didn’t take long for me to get sick of being on my own, so I packed up my barely eaten lunch and swung my bag over my shoulder. Walking over to the field, I was aware of the eyes that were still following my every move, so I made my stride purposeful and confident, all the while trying to convince myself that I was.

I stopped at the edge of the field and watched them play for a moment, before slinging my bag off and letting it hit the ground with a small thud.

“Hey!” I called out, “Can I play?”

Everyone on the field stopped and looked at me. Gerard was the first to speak up.

“You any good?” he shouted back. I paused a moment and then nodded, halfheartedly.

“But, Gerard, we already have even teams,” one of the other boys said. He had brownish, big poofy hair and was at least six foot.

Gerard turned to the guy and shrugged his shoulders, “Bob said he was hungry and wanted to eat lunch so he can take Bob’s place.”

The guy nodded once, and turned to Bob who was at the goals. “You ready for your lunch break?”

“Yeah,” he called back, “What about you, Ray? You coming?”

So he’s name was Ray. Okay, tall and poofy hair was Ray. Shoulder-length raven black hair, Gerard. Blonde, side-fringe, Bob.

“Nah,” Ray shouted back as Bob walked off the field. Gerard beckoned me over, whilst mumbling something to Ray. I caught the end of it, “– he’s probably not that good anyway. You go on goalie for Bob and I’ll play against him.”

Even though I heard this, I didn’t let on that I did.

“You’re on the other team and Ray will be goalie,” Gerard informed me, “You’ll be one of their forwards, mainly playing me.”

“Okay,” I answered, shrugging my shoulders.

Everyone got into their positions and Gerard had kick off. I waited for him to kick the ball, adrenaline pulsing through my body. He passed the ball to another member of his team and then everyone shot forward and into position.

I singled out Gerard, marking him as he raced down the field towards the goal, ignoring all the other players. Gerard was my only concern at the moment.

I had the advantage; everyone thought that I wasn’t that good. A small crowd had even gathered to see the ‘new kid’ play soccer with the, obvious, jocks. I watched the ball twist and loop around and between players feet, swiftly traveling up the field and towards Gerard and I.

“Ready new kid?” Gerard panted, smirking down at me.

“Are you?” I shot back, just as the ball was passed to Gerard. I intercepted the pass and dribbled the ball expertly through a few stunned players. I weaved in and out of other players, realising quickly that I was on my own; I didn’t know who exactly was on my team and no one was offering their help anyway.

I was distracted briefly from shouts and screams of, “Go Gerard! Go!”

Riskily, I turned my head to see Gerard coming up swiftly behind me with a determined expression as he chased after me. I pushed myself harder, relief washing through me when I saw how close I was to the goals. The goalie, for Gerard’s team, had bent legs and was looking a little apprehensive as I shot up the field towards him.

I was stopped though. So close to the goals too. There were cheers from the crowd when Gerard finally managed to stop me. He managed to nudge the ball a little so that I stumbled slightly. He tried, in vain though, to steal the ball, our feet looking as if they were dancing around the one object: the ball.

Everyone was still cheering and it was a battle between Gerard and myself. When I glanced up quickly, I could see the concentration in Gerard’s face as he tried to get the ball.

After what seemed like an eternity of concentration, I managed to regain possession of the ball and I dribbled it up to the goal. I shot for a goal just as Gerard slide tackled me causing me to land on him, not knowing if I made the goal or not.

There were cheers erupting from everyone. So I couldn’t tell if it was because Gerard stopped me or that I had, maybe, made the shot.

I pushed myself off Gerard and, once standing, held my hand out to him. He looked at me for a moment before taking my hand and letting me pull him up. He stared at me openly, until the rest of the people playing the game surrounded us and cheered, patting me on the back.

“Great shot!”

“Well done, man.”

“So, I got the goal?” I asked the guys surrounding me. They all nodded as if they couldn’t believe it themselves, either.

I looked at Gerard and he was smiling at me, a hint of curiosity in his expression. “Well done, new kid. I won’t be so easy on you next time.”

I grinned back at him, smirking. “Next time?”

“Yeah. You’re going to play with us at lunch too, right?” he clarified. I nodded.

“Since you’ll be playing with us then I better introduce you to some guys properly. This is Ray and Pete. These guys are the ones you’ll probably need to know the most. Bob too, but you already know who he is,” Gerard explained.

“Cool.”

The bell rang, signaling end of break and everyone started heading back to where all the bags were heaped into a pile beside the field. When it was only Gerard and I remaining he turned and looked at me curiously for, like, the millionth time in the last fifteen minutes.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” I asked frowning a little, confused.

“Because you’re so hard to figure out,” he answered. I was taken aback by this comment.

“What do you mean?”

“You seem so fake at times, like you’re always trying to make people see what you want them to see,” he explained. “It works, generally,” he added. I remained silent.

“Mr. Way and co. get to class!”

We looked over to see an old, frail looking man in a puke yellow suit and bright blue tie yelling at us. Yeack.

“I’ll see you at lunch, new kid,” he smiled. “And then I’ll kick your ass at soccer.”

“You can try,” I smiled back. We retrieved our bags and started off to our different classes because the teacher was shooting us looks for being so slow.

“My name’s Frank by the way,” I called after Gerard.

“I know,” he shouted back.