I Drew You Once in Art Class

Ninety-One

Pete was thinking.

He didn't like what he was thinking.

He was thinking he should go talk to Gerard.

But that seemed like something someone who felt things would do, and Pete was definitely not one of those people.

Maybe just one conversation wouldn't hurt?

Pete excused himself to use the bathroom.

He knew where Gerard's room was, and luckily it was close enough to the bathroom that he could lie about it. He knocked, gently, but figured Gerard wouldn't answer, so he slowly opened the door and prayed to God he wouldn't see anything that would scar him for life.

The smell of stale air hit him immediately, and he tried not to breathe in too much as he walked in. Gerard was on his side, and Pete could hear faint music leaking from his headphones. Pete gently pushed him on the shoulder. Gerard jumped and turned around.
"Jesus, you scared me. What the hell are you doing? Where's Mikey?"

"Listen, dude. I know how you feel. I don't wanna get into it right now because I told Mikes I was just going to the bathroom, but you gotta listen to me. I totally know how you feel, I get the weird... numbness sometimes too. But you can't do this to Mikey, man, you just can't. It scares the hell out of him."

Pete started backing out toward the door. "Think about it."

Gerard stared at him, bewildered. The door shut, and Gerard was left to look around his hideout, dust in the air, stuff everywhere. He thought about his body, and how it hadn't been washed, and how oily his hair suddenly felt.

Pete was probably right.

That's weird, Pete seemed like he'd be the last guy to be right about anything, ever.

Gerard pulled back the covers. He walked to the bathroom and turned on the faucet.

Christ, his life had gotten so low that a 13-year-old emo kid was keeping him on track.