FRERARD Haven't Got a Prayer boyxboy

part 6

                Monday morning between ‘the birds aren’t even awake yet!’ and ‘why am I even alive?’ is when I stumbled down the stairs to eat breakfast before school.  I was exhausted.  The dreams I’d had the night before were those really troubled dreams that crawl from the depths of your conscious to haunt you, but they were also the really confusing kind that make you wonder what drug you’d taken the night prior.  I think Gerard was the drug.  Maybe he’d coated his lips in a potion that would make me insane, or perfumed himself in a cloud of intoxicating fairy dust.  You never know… fucking Lutherans.

                The first thing Uncle Clark said to me that morning was “Give me your phone, you’re grounded,”

                Well good morning to you too, Mr. Grumpy pants.  I handed over my phone without protest, because it wouldn’t have done any good anyways.

                “Why am I grounded?” I mumbled/asked.  Too tired to speak properly. 

                “You missed dinner completely and went out without telling anyone where you were going,” Uncle Clark said sternly.  “As well as having a blatant display of disrespect after church,”

                I rolled my eyes when he couldn’t see my face and mumbled, “You weren’t being the most tactful person in the world, either,”

                “Excuse me Franklin, what was that?” he snapped, and I hurried past him out of the house. 

                “Nothing,” I growled, and then I was out the door.

                !

                I was expecting Gerard to act weird, but he didn’t.  He acted just like normal Gerard, and I acted just like normal Frank, and Mikey ignored us and listened to his iPod.  It makes me wonder what kind of music he listens to on that thing, because I still don’t know.  I’ve speculated on whether he even listens to music.  What if he listens to books on that thing, and that’s why I never hear him complain about school work?  All his reading lessons are being delivered to his brain via ear buds.  Or maybe he listens to aliens interrupting radio waves, and he’s just waiting for them to strike.  Maybe he listens to the bible on that thing…  you never know.  He is a Lutheran after all.

                I got in trouble for the first time ever the other day.  It was a Tuesday, and there was a strange schedule change.  They passed around sign-up sheets, and we could choose to take Latin, P.E., art, or Psalms Exploration.  All of the options sounded painfully horrible, so I chose art.  Lucky me, Gerard and Mikey both chose art too. 

                Art was in the music room, probably because they didn’t have any place better.  They set up card tables around the room.  Gerard, Mikey, and I shared one, which was fun.

                Our assignment was to try and paint a portrait of one of the people at our table.  Mikey was going to paint me, I was going to paint Gerard, and Gerard was going to paint Mikey.  Mikey never really painted anything, and I don’t know how he got away with not turning anything in. 

                Anyways, I was going to get paint, right?  Because Gerard wasn’t willing to share, telling me I’d mess up the colors he’d already mixed together.  (Oh, I should add that this was a Picasso assignment… so Gerard’s portrait was very colorful.)  I was going to get my own paint so I could start trying to recreate Gerard on my paper.  I had a full pallet full of all these colors, right? 

                I just want to ask… why is someone always a fucking jerk to the new kid?  Why?  Is there a rule that says someone has to be mean to the new kid?