Gerard's P.O.V.
***
"I know, but I'm kinda nervous," I say anxiously, biting my lip and glancing up at the clock. Frank's been gone for almost ten minutes, and I'm starting to worry.
Is he in trouble? Is he okay? Is he dead or something?
Mikey rolls his eyes and repositions his glasses. "You sound like an overprotective mother. Stop worrying," he replies tastelessly, glancing back at the worksheet that we're supposed to be doing. I decide that not worrying about Frank would be the best course of action, so I also return to the class work and rack my brain for some kind of answer to these problems.
Which of these is the most acidic?
a. Coffee
b. Apple Juice
c. Vinegar
d. Water
I know that water isn't acidic, which is simply common knowledge. Apple juice can ruin your teeth, so that's an option. And coffee...? Coffee is the soul purpose for my life; I live for coffee. And my teeth are relatively white, so I circle vinegar. As I set down my pencil and read the next question, Frank walks into the room, clutching his stomach. As he slumps into the stool beside me, I look him up and down.
He seems very much alive. That's good.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?" I ask nervously, holding a hand to his head. It's pretty warm, but my hand decided to linger on his forehead for a few moments longer than necessary. He grimaces, and his stomach produces a low rumbling sound. Mr. Quinn approaches us, a blank worksheet in hand. "Are you okay, Mr. Iero?" he asks, placing the paper in front of Frank.
Frank nods and withdraws a pencil from his pocket, writing the date and his name on the worksheet. Mr. Quinn walks away without another word, and the intercom crackles to life again. Oh, great.
"Mikey Way, please come to the front office, Mikey Way, to the front office."
So now it's Mikey's turn. I'm probably next. Mikey stands up slowly and scoots out the door, his shoes squeaking as he drags his feet along the linoleum. All eyes are pointed in his direction as he leaves the room, and then there's a turning of heads as the door closes.
I continue the worksheet, just wanting lunch to arrive.
***
Frank heaves a sigh as he puts down his sandwich, rubbing his stomach. "I have no idea what got into my stomach," he remarks, "It's like it has a mind of its own sometimes." We all laugh at the small and satisfied figure of Frank and continue eating. He's told us about the happenings during Chemistry when he was taken out, and how the cheerleader had attempted to kiss him. We listened with a sudden spike of interest, because he had actually been called cute.
I mean, he is cute, but by a normal girl. A cheerleader, too.
But he said that he has no interest in girls, announcing this as his coming out party. No one's awkward. No one's weird about it. We all pretty much knew he was gay, anyways.
"What about you, Mikey? Why were you called up?" I ask Mikey, who scoffs angrily, stabbing a pea and sending it flying to another table. We all watch it as it hits James in the back of the head, and he turns around and glares at Mikey. We grimace and look down at our plates, and Mikey mutters, "They're making me take P.E. I though that I already had the credit for that class, but I'm a few weeks short."
I feel a sudden surge of pity for Mikey, because he's not going to last three minutes under Mr. Alex's watch. "Better you than me," Ray says, and Mikey blushes. They just need to get together already, so I decide to do something about that.
"Hey, Ray," I say, trying to get Mikey's attention, "You know that Mikey likes you, right?" Mikey's face turns redder than the strawberry jelly that's lathered on his sandwich, and he kirks me as hard as he can. I let out a pained yell, and Frankie says, "Ooo, looks like the feeling between both of them is mutual, because Ray likes Mikey, too."
Now the table is completely silent, where I stare at Ray and Frank stares at Mikey, and it's extremely awkward. Ray and Mikey both look down at their laps, probably extremely glad that they're not sitting next to each other. "So it's settled then," Frank pipes up, "You two are gonna date. Okay?"
More awkwardness.
Ray looks through his fro at Mikey and takes a shaky breath, finding some confidence. "Sounds like a deal if Mikey's into it," he suggests, and Mikey's jaw hits the floor, his eyes wide as saucers. "R-Really?" he asks, and before any of us know what's happening, James approaches Mikey and pours a thick wide substance onto his head.
Mashed potatoes. And gravy.
All of us remain silent as the tables around us burst into laughter, and I decide to go get some napkins. As I'm walking over to the stack by the supply closet, which is open, I peer inside and see someone come out. This just so happens to be the lunch lady, and she opens her jaw and blinks. Her hair is slightly messy, and she's a little disshelved. She exits the closet without a word, and I few seconds later, a very out of breath man crashes into a cabinet. I'm not even sure who he is, but he's wearing a lab coat, so I assume he teaches some kind of science. He takes a few steadying breaths, and I connect some puzzle pieces.
Holy fuck. Oh Lord, did... Did they maybe just?
"Gerard!" Mikey screams, causing me to jump, "Any day now!"
I grab a handful of napkins and run back to the table, patting Mikey's hair and wiping off the warm mashed potatoes. He trembles as I do so, wiping off his glasses and sighing. "I hate school," he mumbles, "I'll get my sweet revenge on him."
Frank smiles, and as an attempt to lighten the mood, he croaks, "Three cheers for sweet revenge, am I right?" No one laughs, but the air isn't so hard to breathe anymore. The tension is somewhat eased.
I'm honestly sick and tired of being the laughing stock of the entire school, constantly being bullied and pushed around. I think it's about time to fix this. All of it.
