Tutorial | Brendon Urie

Chapter Three

I woke up this morning with about eight blankets wrapped around my ice cold body. I check the thermostat on the way to the kitchen to find that it is a crazy-low seven degrees (celsius – about forty-four degrees fahrenheit). I switch the heater on angrily, pissed that nobody in my household thought it would be a good idea to heat up this place.

I am actually turning eighteen today. I am a legal adult. I don't really feel any different, but the thought is there and that's all that truly matters.

I am greeted at school by Dawn, and a few of my other close friends, Ruby, Conner, Mel and Jackson. They each hug me, handing me birthday envelopes, with, presumably, cards inside. We spend about twenty minutes talking about our plans for the weekend to celebrate my 'big day', eventually deciding on keeping it simple, with a sleepover at Conner's because he has the biggest bedroom.

The day dragged on, until it was finally English. I was actually beginning to enjoy English, mostly because Ms Phillips was finally giving us class time to write essays, but also because I got to speak to Brendon. I walked into the room, noticing Brendon wasn't sitting in his regular desk at the back of the class. I was confused, but figured he was probably getting photocopies for Ms. Phillips or something else she would refuse to do on her own. I sat down and began my third practice essay. I finish the introduction, and Brendon still hasn't come to class. Ten minutes later, the first paragraph is also done, and the back desk is still empty. Eventually the final bell rings, and all the eager students pour out of the classroom, while Dawn waits for me to pack up my books. "Where's your aid, Grace?" She says playfully.

"I don't know, actually, I was going to ask him about something for my Psychology exam."

"Grace, he's an English aid," Dawn says with a flat expression.

"Yeah, but he helped me the other day with some psychology questions, and I'm stuck again, and Mrs. Raphael already left for the day."

"Girls, Mr. Urie is taking the after school session, now. Are you staying?" To my surprise, I felt relieved.

"I am, are you, Dawn?" Honestly, I was hoping she would continue her pattern from the past few days and say no, but to my despair, she agreed to stay for an hour. I don't know why I didn't want her to stay, I mean, she's my best friend. Was it because of Brendon?

My thoughts become distracted as the aforementioned aid walked through the door with his signature briefcase and clipboard. "Two delinquents this time," he says as he smiles at Dawn and myself.

"I've got this, Janelle. You can go home," Brendon smiles at Ms. Phillips. I've never heard anybody call her by her first name. This was really weird. Ms. Phillips didn't even hesitate to grab her already packed bag and rush out of the classroom, thanking Brendon on her way out.

"So, Mr. Urie, I heard you can help with Psych as well?" Dawn asked him, her eyes moving upwards from the ground with her face staying slightly lowered. Her doe eyes worked on everybody, and that really pissed me off.

"Yeah, a little, I guess. I'm not qualified, but I know some," Brendon muttered softly as he looked up at me. He didn't tell her to call him Brendon. Now I wasn't sure whether I should be calling him Brendon either. Did he get in trouble? I sat back down at my desk, jealousy boiling within as he leaned over Dawn in front of me. Why am I so angry? It's not like I like him. He's cute, but he's like, a good three years older than me. The last thing I need right now is a romantic interest, anyway. What am I saying? He probably wouldn't even be interested in me. I'm just a high school student. There's probably so many wonderful girls at his university. Shut up, Grace. Just do your work. My thoughts were racing elsewhere as I tried to focus on my English essay.

It took me a good forty-five minutes, but I finally finished up my piece, the fastest one yet. I look up and Dawn is still madly scribbling away in her notebook, while Brendon sits at the front desk, rolling a piece of paper and studying something intently on his laptop. "Uh, Bre-" I remember that he didn't tell Dawn to call him Brendon, "ahem- Mr. Urie?" He looks up and shakes his head, disappointed that I didn't call him Brendon. He gets up and walks over to my desk, quickly glancing at Dawn's work over her shoulder. She pays no attention to him. Thank God.

"What's up, Grace?"

"I finished another essay. I was wondering if you could take a quick look," I turn the pages towards him. He slips them out of my hand and sits down next to me, pulling the next chair up to my desk. It was unnecessary, but I liked it. He begins to scan the paper, silently mouthing the words as he read. When he turns to the next page, Dawn's phone emits a shrill chime, snatching mine and Brendon's attention. "Oh, shit," Dawn mumbles, "my mum is wondering where I am. I better go. Thanks again for your help, Mr. Urie!" Dawn calls out as she is already trotting out of the class, books in hand, bag over shoulder. Brendon waves back without a word. He turns back to me and gives me a gentle smile. Oh my god, why are there butterflies in my stomach. Stop this. God help me. He continues to read while I try to calm myself down. I breathe slowly, closing my eyes for a moment before he says my name again.

"Grace, this is really good. Like, really, really good. I would give it an A+ easily."

"Wow, really? Thank you so much."

"You're going to nail this exam if you keep going at this rate." I start to get nervous again, and rub my hands together, under the table, so he can't see.

"Do you have any exams coming up?" I ask, in hope of sparking a longer conversation.

"I don't, thank God, but I have to complete a pretty massive assignment based on my placement." We continue to talk about the stresses of school and work.

"How do you cope? You're in your third year, aren't you? Surely you have a method down pat." Trying to handle my stress has become a personal challenge recently, and I would appreciate any advice at this point.

"I've never really told anybody this, but I... um..." He starts to get anxious, which is not good, per se, but he looks so adorable that I can't help but smile. He looks back up at me for reassurance.

"I write songs."

"Wait, really?" I am in disbelief. It's so typical that this adorable, intelligent man is also musically talented. "That's literally so cool. I've always wanted to be able to write music."

"I never said they were good," he says, scratching his nose. So cute.

"Can I hear one?" I don't even know why I asked really, I knew he would say no.

"Yeah sure, let me just grab my guitar," he laughs sarcastically, pretending to reach behind him to pull out a guitar.

"You're not finishing this placement without playing me a song, Brendon." Did I just flirt with him? Did I just propose that we are going to hang out outside of school before he finishes his placement? What am I doing? Brendon looks away from his twiddling thumbs, to look me in the eyes. At first I expected him to be repulsed by my implication, but he just smiles a wide grin, the widest I've seen on his face so far. I glance down at my watch, the clock face reading 6:18pm. Why does this keep happening? I may as well just live at the school. Brendon notices me suddenly become aware of the time. "Would you like a ride home?" He says, knowing full well that the answer is yes.

We make our way to his car, and the cold nips at our hands and faces. We both step into the vehicle. The pleather seats are freezing cold, and there is frost on the windows. I wrap my leather jacket tighter around my body. This is only the second time I am riding home with Brendon, yet it feels like part of a routine. It's almost strange that I feel so comfortable in such an uncomfortable situation. We chat a little bit, talking about our day, complaining about the staff and the students. Surprisingly, we make it to my house without me needing to give any directions. I was surprised that he had such a good memory, and for directions no less. We say our goodbyes again, and I step out of the little car, with my bag slinging over my shoulder. The weather was really starting to drop now.