Just Two Outcasts [Frerard]

The New Kid

[Okay so I've decided that this story will be in Gerard's POV, I might occasionally let Frank take POV in certain chapters, and those chapters will be marked as Frank's POV.]

 

  I sighed as I walked through the doors of hell for the first time for another year. It was my first day of 11th grade. I had turned 17 in April, earlier this year. My younger brother, Mikey, who was only fourteen and in 9th grade, followed behind me, keeping close, as I had advised him to. I had warned him all about the troubles of this hell.

  As I showed Mikey his locker, I noticed a small boy shuffling through the crowd, probably trying to get to his locker. He was shoved around on the way, the jocks making sure to knock his books out of his hands on his way past them. He was dressed in all black and several tattoos and piercings. His hair was shaved on the sides and dyed red. The long, black hair of his bangs covered part of his face as he picked up his books.

  I nudged Mikey and whispered: "Was he in your classes last year?" Mikey studied him and shook his head. He whispered back: "I would guess he's new. I haven't seen him around. Why?" I shrugged. "Just curious." Mikey nodded, glancing at his schedule. "Hey, Algebra 2 is on the second floor, right?" I nodded absentmindedly. He nodded slowly. "Well, I guess I'll see you later, Gerard." I nodded once again.

  As Mikey left, I watched as the jocks pinned the kid against a locker. He looked scared, but muttered something, probably sarcastically, under his breath that I couldn't make out. But Brian, the quarterback of the football team, seemed really pissed by whatever it was. He punched the kid square in the jaw. I sighed sadly, remembering when that was me. I guess it still was, but I had grown a lot since then and learned just simply be silent when the jocks were being dicks. Brian kicked the kid, hard, in the stomach and let him drop to the ground, holding his stomach in obvious pain. I could only watch as they shoved the kid into a locker, a very familiar locker. I quickly realized that it was my own. As soon as they left, I quickly ran over to my locker and started unlocking it.

  When I opened it, I was face to face with the now bloodied kid. He sniffed, tears mixing with the blood from his nose and cut lip. I helped him out of the small, metal box and asked him, almost inaudibly: "You okay?" He nodded slowly, sniffing again. It broke my heart to see him cry like this. It was only his first day. I murmured softly: "I'm Gerard." He looked at me, his eyes wide as he whispered: "The emo druggie? I've heard stories about you." His eyes dropped to the floor. I shook my head, feeling hurt: "I'm not an emo druggie. That's just what everyone else thinks." He sniffed and said quietly: "I'm Frank." I heard the bell ring and Frank stiffened. "We're gonna be late." He said, panicked. I put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Frank. I skip all the time. We'll be alright. The teachers legitimately do not give a shit. Would you like to come over to my house so I can clean you up?" He contemplated for a minute before nodding sadly. I allowed him to lean on me as we made our way to my old car in the parking lot.

  When we got back to my house, I helped Frank inside, setting him on the couch. My mom wasn't home, as she worked a lot. I got down some rubbing alcohol and a washrag and headed back over to where Frank was sitting. I put some alcohol on the rag and pressed it lightly to his lip, knowing that it would sting. He made a small noise as the stinging liquid touched his newly bloodied lip. I wiped the blood from his nose up and got him some water. He murmured something I didn't catch. "What was that, Frank?" I whispered. He said it slightly louder: "Why are you helping me?" I had to take a second to think about his question. I honestly hadn't really thought about why. But I finally came up with an answer: "Because I was in your shoes. Still am, somewhat." I lifted up my sleeve to reveal a large bruise on my shoulder. "That was during the summer. I made the mistake of going to the park." Frank nodded, gazing at the purple bruise on my pale shoulder. I pushed my sleeve back down and said softly: "Don't let them get you down." Frank let out a bitter laugh, surprising me. "Oh, I've got plenty of people to do that already." I gazed into his hazel eyes, a similar color to mine, but prettier in my opinion. "I know how you feel. Then don't let them add to the list." He blinked and said softly: "How would you know how I feel?" I shrugged. "Maybe because my dad was a druggie who would get drunk and high and then beat the rest of the family for stupid things that were out of our control and my mom has to work almost twenty four hours a day to pay for our basic necessities." I know I sounded bitter. Frank sighed softly. "I guess you do."

  I motioned to Frank's stomach. "I noticed he kicked you. Are you alright?" He lifted up his shirt slightly, revealing a tattoo that said: "Search And Destroy." There was already a large bruise forming on his skin. He groaned. I got up, getting him an asprin. "Here you go. That's honestly all I have for any sort of bruise or headache or whatever." He smiled slightly. "Thanks Gerard. You're honestly the nicest person I've been in contact with all day." He took the asprin and said softly: "Do you mind if I go to sleep?" I shook my head. "No, go right ahead. You can stay in my room, if you'd like to." He nodded, standing up. I helped him up the stairs into my dark room. It was full of drawings that I had drawn and paintings that had been the product of my disturbing and bored self. Frank looked around and smiled: "Did you do these?" I nodded sheepishly, knowing that they were gory and altogether disturbing. To my surprise, Frank's only comment was: "You're really amazing. And these pictures rock." I smiled shyly, muttering a thanks before motioning to my bed. "Well, here you go. I'll be downstairs if you need me." As I was turning to leave, I felt a tug on my wrist. "Wait, Gee." Gee. The nickname made my heart flutter. I turned to face Frank and said softly: "Yes, Frankie?" He blushed and stuttered: "U-um...W-w-will you s-stay with m-me...?" I nodded, smiling slightly. I climbed into my bed with him and said softly: "Sleep well, Frank." Before I fell asleep, I heard a soft: "You too, Gee."