I'll kiss your lips again (Frerard)

Chapter 1

Frank POV
I walk into the school, my head hung low and my hood hanging over my eyes, casting shadows on my face and concealing my short dark hair. I walk in small, fast steps to avoid the empty spaces and blend into crowds, trying not to be noticed by anyone who fancies beating up the 'emo gay kid'.
The many lockers and bare gray walls around me seem colourless, devoid of life; and the people standing close by are not much mote interesting.

As I rush through the hallways, I'm met with the usual storm of noise, pushing bodies in the crowd, and swearing.
"Fuck you, asshole!" I yell at someone who tossed some offensive comment at me.

I arrive at my locker, silently taking a few things before I get noticed, and I lightly jog into the safety of the classroom, where my friends Ray, Patrick and Ryan are waiting.

I quickly pad into the classroom, making sure my footsteps are silent, as if I wasn't there. I don't want to be noticed.

"Hi Ray!" I yell.
"Hey, Patty, Ryan." I mutter afterwards. They say hi, smiling widely, and pat the empty desk next to where they're sitting. So I go over to them and throw my Blink-182 bag vaguely in the direction of the desk; it skids across the flat surface and falls off.
"Fuck." I mutter, and sit down, picking it up and chucking it into the desk, where it was supposed to land.

After that I sit down on the isolated chair, and immediately feel out of place.
There's movement around me, constant energy; and I feel like the centre of a hurricane. Although the spiral of movement does not stop, I am still, and I am calm. I fold my hands into fists at my sides, to calm myself down.

The teacher's voice booms through the room and almost instantaneously the rustling of paper and mixed up voices dies down to quiet whispers.

We are told to leave; and just as quickly as when we arrived, we depart and file out, each person isolated and engrossed in their own thoughts.

By the time it passes one o'clock I am already drained, my head is filled with a dull ache, and my bag strap digs uncomfortingly into the soft skin of my shoulder. I let out a rather loud sigh of exasperation, accidentally startling my friends.

"Hey, what's up with you, Frankenstein?" mocks Ray, wearing a look of concern.
"What's up?" says Ryan softly. My eyes flicker back and forth a few times, unsure whether to share my thoughts or not, but I decide on apathy.
"Your dick." I respond harshly, waving my hand at them to leave me alone.

"I saw something in my cereal today," Ray says, as we enter the school diner.
"Oh?" I say back in surprise.
"It said Frank Iero's on his period today!" They burst out laughing, and I scowl. "Oh, fuck off, Ray. I'm just grumpy today, okay?" Just give me some space."

He raises his eyebrows slightly but goes silent, giving a small nod of the head, showing understanding. I offer a small smile in return and drift back into my own thoughts.

We grab lunch and sit down on an empty-looking table, casually sliding into our seats.
"So, you got drama today?" Ryan asks Patrick.
"Um, yeah?" he answers back in a daze.
"Okay."
"Stop daydreaming, we all know who you're fantasising about!"
We all giggle.
"He luuurves you!"
Patrick Stump blushes a deep shade of red, the deep hot colour crawling down his neck.
Oil Sykes, the drama teacher, has always been the only person Patrick liked. You can see it in the way he looks at him; his pupils dilating in lovestruck eyes and an obvious tinge of his cheeks.
It's really a shame, because although everyone else seems to be oblivious to it, I can see that Oli Sykes cannot be together with Patty. It's forbidden, it's wrong, and it's just something that happens in real life. Teachers and students don't fall in love. They can't. Surely that stuff only happens in stories?

I watch helplessly, as Patty excitedly fanboys over the drama teacher, his face lighting up like stars. Poor guy, when he eventually gets rejected he's going to be heartbroken.

"And we have art last lesson." he finishes.
"Oh!" exclaims Ryan, thinking about something.
"We have a new art teacher."
I lift my head.
"What?"
Ryan shrugs, innocence claiming his features.
"I heard his name is Mr... well, something short, and it begins with a 'W'.
I don't know why I'm so interested.
"O-oh." I say bluntly.
"O-okay."

"See?" Ray points, and there he is, a black-clad figure, broad-shouldered and with his back to us. I can't see his front and the canteen has shitty lighting, but I can see he has long and extremely untidy raven-black hair, spilling down his collar and finishing in uneven curls at his shoulder-blades. He looks nothing special and I come to a conclusion that he is boring. Probably.

Thanks for reading, this is my first properly published story so it would be great if you could comment or rate. I'm sorry if it's not very good. But if you do happen to like it, there's lots more to come as I already have eight chapters written down on paper which I just have to put onto wattpad.
I will also put another fic soon, which you can find on my account. I don't know when I'll do it though.

Again, I'm sorry if it's shitty. I really am.
stay rad,
em. xx