Changes

Frank and Mikey stood outside the daunting building that would be their prison for the next four years: Raritan Valley High School. They had spent every year together since the third grade. They had walked into every new school year together. They had always (for some strange reason) ended up in the same classes. They had always played with each other at recess in elementary school and dodged balls together in middle school. They’d been bullied together, eaten lunch together, shoved into adjacent lockers, shared a gym locker, been there for each other for what seemed like forever. Neither could imagine life without the other.

Would this year be any different? Frank looked at Mikey and Mikey looked right back at Frank. Together, they scanned the crowd gathering in front of the school’s entrance, awaiting a new year and for some, a new life. As they spotted the faces of those they despised (it was mutual), they hoped with their lives that it wouldn’t.

Mikey offered his arm to his best friend and arm in arm, they entered the hallways of hell. The hustle and bustle of junior high school was magnified a thousand times in the student-filled roads to classrooms that offered little chance of escape. Many more glares were sent out towards the pair, menacing eyes darting at them sending messages of impending doom. Through the jostling crowd, Mikey found one small sliver of hope: his brother.

Gerard’s locker was right near Mikey’s homeroom. He looked sadly at Frank as he disappeared into a different room, two doors away from Mikey. Their first separation. Perhaps they were just being dramatic, but it was painful. They bore pain together. What would happen now?

Gerard saw it in Mikey’s eyes; he knew his little brother better than he knew himself. “Hey,” he said softly, taping a new sketch to his locker door. “You’ll be in other classes with him. I know how it feels, but it’ll get better.” Gerard had always felt bad about lying to his brother. He knew he didn’t have any friends; he was the loner, getting drunk all alone night after night. But Mikey didn’t know this. Mikey looked up to his brother with an adoration that was unrivalled. How could he betray that?

Mikey’s heart sank deeper at his brother’s words. He saw the way Frank looked at Gerard. It was that sneaking, cautious glance he’d given Frank a few times before catching himself and chasing the offending thoughts from his mind. Adoration. Love. Hormonal wanting, even.

Gerard looked sadly down at his little brother. “It will get better. I saw you get pushed out there. You’ll get used to it. Now, go on. The bell’s going to ring any minute now.” Mikey didn’t reply. “Hey, are you okay?”

“No, I’m not,” he replied bitterly before sulkily drifting into homeroom to receive his schedule. He knew that Frank would rush out to him the moment the bell rang to compare schedules. Perhaps they’d have a class or two together. Maybe their schedules would be identical. The chances of this were slim, but Mikey liked to keep hope.

He adjusted his glasses as someone hissed “Hey four-eyes” and took a seat towards the back of the room. He was immune here, invisible like all the others who didn’t want to be seen for fear of those who flashed themselves about like wrathful, unjust gods. He hated them all. That was the difference between him and his older brother: they were both cast out, but Gerard embraced it. Mikey hated it.

His schedule seemed horrible. Math, Science, English, Gym –dear God, would it be worse than junior high? – Social Studies, English again, Spanish, and finally: art. His last class was the only one he’d ever liked. Drawing was nice; it was interesting. No dates to memorize, no chemical formulas or species. Just a bunch of names and some color. And anyway, Gerard could help him with artwork; Gerard was an artistic genius.

Would be Frankie be in any of his classes at all? Would they even see each other at school?

As the first period bell rang, he pushed his chair back and all but sprinted to Frank’s homeroom to find him waiting patiently outside.

“Well?” they asked each other in unison. They hurriedly switched schedules and gave them a once over. “YES!” they yelled loudly, causing several heads to turn. They had four classes together.

After second period, Mikey and Frankie managed their separation until lunch. Lunch in high school was a very interesting thing. Usually, Mikey and Frank sat together at a table full of outcasts. Here, even the outcasts had cliques, social pyramids that were obeyed like gospel.

By some miracle, Gerard invited him to the artists’ table. They were the art geeks, the ones who sat around doodling in their notebooks during class and only paid attention during the Renaissance lesson in history. The two freshmen were greeted briefly before everyone turned back to their lunches and discussions about holding a pencil.

They glanced down at their disgusting cafeteria food. It was something called Cuban Surprise, which seemed to be some strange cubes of god-knows-what drowned in excessive amounts of fungal gray sauce.

“Hey,” Mikey tried to get his older brother’s attention. “Hey, Gee.”

Gerard turned around in a flash of annoyance. “Dude, I told you not to call me that in public!” He turned back to his sketchbook and sighed. Why did he have to be like that? It was like being kids all over again. He knew that when he turned back to Mikey, he’d see hurt in the kid’s eyes. Gerard mentally kicked himself. Real older brothers are nice. Real older brothers don’t snap at everything and hurt their brother’s feelings. Real older brothers didn’t spike their lunch with stolen Vodka. Sighing again, he playfully thumped Mikey on the back. “Sorry, man. I’m just having a bad day, I guess.” Mikey smiled ruefully at Gerard, pretending not to notice that Frankie was staring at Gerard as well with different intentions in mind. “What were you saying?”

“This…substance,” Mikey prodded at the Cuban Surprise with his spork as Frank giggled. “What is this?” Gerard stifled a laugh; they were yet to get used to the wonders of the Raritan Valley High cafeteria.

“It’s supposed to be meat,” Frank said, amazed that he was able to talk in front of the object of his affections. “Don’t eat it Mike, it looks like they poured fermented corpse onto blocks of wood.”

“That is the most accurate description of cafeteria food that I have ever heard,” Gerard laughed. “You know what? I’m pretty sure you’ll survive without sampling that shit. I’ll take you both out to pizza after school.”

Mikey sighed with relief. Frank did mental cartwheels. It would be the perfect time to say it. He’d never been able to say anything at Mikey’s house; Gerard would always be holed up in his room not speaking to anyone. After school. Pizza. Gerard Way.

No expression of joy would suffice.

The last bell of the day rang and the hallways filled once more with students, every person eager to leave and be free for a few hours until the next day. Frank found Mikey and all but dragged him to Gerard’s locker. Mikey knew. He didn’t want to say anything but he knew and he hated it.

Frankie and Gerard? His Frankie and Gerard? Whoa…since when had Frank been ‘his Frankie’? Mikey couldn’t shake it this time. No, he wouldn’t let it happen. Too much would change too soon. Frankie was his friend, his –it was time he admitted it—his crush and he wouldn’t let go. Not without a fight. He opened his mouth to let it out.

“Frank--” his sentence was interrupted by a larger figure shadowing them with a menacing look in his eyes.

“Hello faggots.” The larger boy balled his hand into a fist. “How are you? I haven’t seen you all summer.”

Frank spoke up for the first time. “Go away Brad. We don’t have time for this.”

Brad raised an eyebrow before grabbing Frank’s collar. “Oh don’t you? I think you do. I think both of you have just enough time for a little appointment with me.”

Mikey and Frank grimaced, mentally preparing themselves for their old weekly ritual.

Gerard slumped out towards the school exit. As usual, he was the last to leave, with a beer bottle in hidden in his backpack. Where were those two? They were supposed to meet him at his locker. When they didn’t show, he supposed they would be waiting at the exit.

He looked around the door. “Mike?” he called. No one was there. Geez, his mom wouldn’t forgive him if Mikey ended up starving because of him. And that Frank kid too, they were both skinny enough as it was.

“Hmmmgrh…” Gerard heard a low rumbling a few feet away. There, lying in a bruised heap were Mikey and Frank.

“Oh my God.” Gerard tried to lift Mikey to his feet. “Mike, was it Brad again?” The younger sibling nodded slightly.

Frank opened his eyes the slightest bit to see Mikey struggling to his feet and offering him a hand. Frank saw Gerard looking worriedly at his younger brother. He wished Gerard would look at him that way. Mikey knew it.

They looked down at their black and blue selves and then at each other. Perhaps things wouldn’t change so quickly after all.