𝑱𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬𝒀 𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳𝑺 // gerard way x fem!oc

𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹.

“Whoa, hey! Are you okay?” asked a familiar voice.

I groaned in pain, rubbing the side of my face as a result of the collision. "Honestly? No, I'm not okay. You've got a pretty hard head." 

"THAT'S WHAT SHE——"

"FRANK!" I yelled, as I moved to get up.

Gerard grabbed onto my wrist, and gently pulled me back down. "Hey, hey, it's okay. Take it easy, will 'ya? You just ran into me! You might be hurt!"

"Gerard, I'm fine——" 

"You look like death!" screamed Frank. Why did I choose to make him my best friend?

I frowned and turned toward him. "And you smell like it!" At this he stuck his tongue out, but only for a moment. For almost immediately, a devious smile grew on his face.

"Mr. Principal Sir! Mr. Principal Sir!" he shouted almost frantically.

"What is he trying to do?" I whispered to Gerard.

He leaned down toward my ear to whisper. "I think I know, and trust me, you're not gonna like it." 

Well this is gonna be great.

"What is going on?" boomed our principal, whose name escapes me. It's not like he hasn't told us his name before——he announces it every time the whole school is forced to attend his assemblies——it's just that he has an extremely forgettable name. At first we pitied the man. I mean, who would want such a forgettable name? Note the "at first." Yeah, turns out he's an absolute asshole who gives out suspensions and detentions like it's candy. I hope he was a decent man before he decided to be an ass, but I can't be sure. Maybe that's why he's thrice divorced.

Anyways, back to the matter at hand.

"Well, you see, sir——"

"No excuses, Miss Thorne. Only the truth." I hate that line so fucking much. No excuses, only the truth. He preaches it like it's the school motto or something. Actually, it might be——not that any of us care to check. This place fucking sucks and everyone's itching to get the hell out of here as soon as possible. Which is why even though this is a shitty private school in north Jersey, fights seldom happen——in front of the teachers, at least. There's an unspoken rule in Pencey that if you want to fight, it happens behind closed doors or during fifth period, when most of the classes are in the south half of the school, and when Principal Whatshisface is at Tom's for lunch. Fewer teachers prowling the halls means fewer chances of getting caught beating up some jerk or smoking, which in turn, means fewer chances of getting suspended or held back. As for expulsion? Pencey has never expelled a student——not since it opened it's wretched doors in 1951. Why? Tuition money. That's it. 

I learned this rule the hard way freshman year, and it appears that I'm getting a review session right now.

"I'm so sorry, Mr., uh," I started, trailing off because I don't remember his name.

"That's Mr. [incomprehensible] to you!" I know he said his name. I heard it. But for some reason, I didn't register it, so instead I resorted to calling him anything else. Oh well, that's his problem, not mine.

"Mr. Whatsyourname, I didn't mean to run into Gerard, I swear!"

"Then why were you running in the halls?" he practically yelled. I rolled my eyes. 

"Frank took something of mine and wouldn't give it back." I replied. This situation was completely under control until Frank decided to tattle. I'm definitely going to get him back——and good.

"Why didn't you tell a teacher?"

"The teachers don't give a shit about us!"

At this he scowled. "NO SWEARING in my school!" he boomed. "Get up, you're headed off to detention!"