𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 ♛ (𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐝)

2 : The School Counselor

Frank's POV :

I had been thinking about going to that school counselor for the whole week.

"Why, though?" Ray had asked me when I had told him about it.

I couldn't tell him why - that was private, not to mention a little bit embarrassing. That was also precisely why I should go to the school counselor.

I mean, Ray is super dupper nice but I don't need the whole school to know I've got issues. These aren't real issues anyway, it's no big deal. But still, talking about it would make me feel a little better.

Anyway, the whole point of school counselors is basically to hear kids like me rant. Besides, what's the worst that could happen, huh? People are good.

And that's how my thoughts urged my feet to lead me to the school counselor's office. After having tugged a little on my shorts and combed my hair with my fingers, I raised my fist and hesitantly knocked on the door. I was expecting a 'come in' but instead, the door opened, startling me a little.

"Hi," I heard and looked up. Two hazel eyes that weren't foreign to me locked with mine.

"Oh! I know you !"
The nice man from last week!

The man laughed and frowned amusedly. "I know you too. Frank Iero, isn't it?"

I nodded enthusiastically, truly flattered that he remembered my name. He invited me in; I followed his steps.

There were two armchairs near a window, a wooden desk at the bottom, some box that kind of looked like a mini fridge, a small couch and a big plant next to the door. The floor and walls were a light, soothing grey. It was warm and quite sunny in there.

"That's a really nice office you've got there, Sir ! I like the plant, and your suit." I commented trivially.

"Thank you. I do like the ambiance here too. It's more comfortable than the rest of the school, I think. When I was your age, I always found the classrooms gloomy and uncomfortable. Anyway, I'm Mr. Way. Please take a seat."

I was about to sit across his desk when I heard him tut behind me.

"Nuh-uh, come here." Mr. Way pointed at one of the two armchairs and I sat there.
"The only reason why I would hide behind a desk to talk to someone is if I made a mistake and the principal came here to scold me," he chuckled while taking a bottle in the fridge and pouring its content in a glass.

Mr. Way handed me the glass. "Apple juice. Go ahead, I want you to feel comfortable here."

"Oh? Thank you, Mr. Way !"

"You're welcome. Oh, and you can call me Gerard." he said as he sat down.

"I, uh... I don't wanna. I'd rather call you Mr. Way," I stated before drinking my apple juice. I almost moaned - it had been so long since I last tasted apple juice and I loved it !

Mr. Way smiled, more intrigued than vexed. "Why is that so?"

There was a little silence while I was sipping my juice. Mr. Way and I made eye contact and I felt shivers run down my spine. His gaze was particularly penetrating, and the persistent feeling that he could somehow read my soul intimidated me.

"That's kind of rude though, isn't it... And respect is very important," I insisted.

"I agree with you on that point, but calling someone by their name - when they invite you to it - is actually just as polite. It's a symbol of proximity or cordiality. If that helps, consider this a favor you do to the person you're talking to."