From The Razor to The Rosary (Frerard)

5. I am not jerking off in the band teacher's office

A bland weekend dragged by, mainly in my bed with an annoying runny nose that I'd spent the two days getting over. 

Should've known I'd get sick.

I couldn't help but constantly think about Gerard and how warm he was. I barely knew this boy yet I had fucking cuddled with him. I had wanted to see him again, and I don't mean napping on each other. I never want to do that again. I just wanted to hang out with him. I wondered if he too wanted to see me. Did he really enjoy the nap in my bed like he said he did? Or was that sarcasm I couldn't read?

These questions wouldn't be answered just by laying in bed, sniffling, and sleeping away. I'd have to ask them or somehow figure them out myself.

I hope he hadn't gotten sick too. I'll just have to see on Monday, if he's even there. Unlike the usual me, I was looking forward to the weekend ending. I was nearly excited for Monday, but it wasn't exactly for school. School can suck my balls.

I was anxious to know how he was and what he thought of me after Friday.

It was Monday morning before I knew it and I was getting ready for a new school day again. The rain continued throughout the weekend and left the beginning of the week wet and cloudy. Meaning that I'd have to walk through the mud to get to school.

The usual path I took through the forest was abandoned by the smell of Gerard's cigarette smoke. And as I had suspected, Gerard too, wasn't there.

Oh, of course.

I lost all excitement I had for Monday. I only looked forward to today because of Gerard.

I just wanted to see him, I wanted to know how he felt about the nap that we had shared too closely for comfort on Friday. What ran through his head as I told him that I actually enjoyed it? I wondered if he still wanted to be friends. Were we even friends in the first place?

Did he get sick? I dislike the image of him being sick. If he was sick, I'd hope he'd be resting in bed. Maybe with a book, if he liked to read. I don't know, Gerard didn't really seem the type to read books in his free time willingly. Maybe he likes comics, I like comics. That'd be cool.

I was disappointed that Gerard wasn't there, but it's not like he's obligated to be there. He probably has a life, y'know?

When I entered the school, trying to be ignored, I was greeted by the sound of clacking heels and just as quickly met by the face of one of the bitchy-sweet ladies that worked in the front office.

"Good morning Frank, just wanted to tell you that you have band class 4th period now. Your mom probably already told you, just reminding you." My mom had in fact not told me. The bitchy-sweet front office lady put a hand on my shoulder while she talked to me. She was at least 4 inches taller than me too. This gesture of hers made me feel even shorter. That's probably why I'm bullied so often; I'm short, an easy target. Something easy for people to look down on.

I don't understand, why did she have to touch me? Her hands were cold and her breath smelt strongly of coffee. But whatever, cool, band for 4th period. I hoped that my band teacher was nice or at least not a total bitch. Wait, is electric guitar an option? I doubted that an electric guitar sounded all that well with a piccolo or flute...

Ah shit, the only other thing I knew was the flute. My random obsession with flutes ended in the 9th grade, but I'm probably gonna end up with it, aren't I?

The flute just felt like a girly instrument. I'd never seen a boy playing the flute before. It was honestly a complete mystery to me.

I didn't exactly think this in the 9th grade, however. I'd gladly spent at least 30 minutes a day practicing it nonstop, and I'd always try to impress my friends with it, they never cared though. I don't even really know if I could consider them my friends, they all found joy in leaving me out.