The Babysitter (frerard)

Chapter 19: He's Like Art, Terrible Art, But It's Still Art

Gerard's POV:

It was Monday and I hated it. I had classes on Monday and Tuesday, which was great. Lindsey had it on Monday and Thursday, that lucky bitch. At least we had Wednesday off together, we sometimes throw parties that present how much of a loser we are. It's something to embrace actually, also note the sarcasm.

After finishing our coffee, we put on our clothes. I put a plain black shirt, slipping on a red leather jacket. I pulled up my black skinny jeans and put on my worn out converse. I stepped out of my room, finding Lindsey sitting on the couch, waiting for me. She stood up and oh, does she look stunning. She work a black and white checkered blazer, a buttoned up shirt under with a big black bow. Lindsey also had a black skirt on with black knee socks, ankle boots to match her adorable outfit. She took out her glasses from her bag and put them on, smiling at me.

"I think I want to change," I muttered, looking over her outfit once again.

"Why?" She asked, slightly tilting her head in confusion.

"You look better than me. You look so decent while I look like trash," I pouted.

"You look lovely, now come on."

Lindsey and I walked out of our dorm, prepared for the dreading classes that'll be coming back again. I had my messenger bag, packed with notebooks, lined paper, pencils, and my sketchbook. I don't go anywhere without my sketchbook, unless I'm going to the bathroom. After all, it's Academy of Art.

We went to our own directions to our classes. Sadly, Lindsey and I didn't have the same classes. She has classes called Painting & Drawing the Nude and Luminous Still Life painting; she wanted to challenge her skills and improve. I was proud of her, but me, I have the basics. I enrolled classes such as: Multiple Exposure drawing and Landscapes and Seascapes.

"Their great classes, Gee!" Lindsey has once exclaimed.

"No, they are not. Your classes are the ones that are cool," I said, eating my bowl of cornflakes.

"I'm telling you, the classes you chose are awesome. Trust me."

I shrugged and we continued eating cereal in our dorm room.

My flashbacks have been interrupted when Lindsey shoved my arm. I glared at her and she played an innocent smile.

"I thought you were going to class?" I said but it was more of a question. I stopped walking and turned to her. I can see my class open so I waited out a few moments to talk to Lindsey. I didn't want to go in anyways. I disliked the people in my class; its not like they were disrespectful because now we're in college and people know its immature. They are not like any students from Belleville High. They aren't like Jamia .

"My classroom hasn't opened yet so I went to yours," She smiled. "What're are you thinking about anyways? When I came, you zoned out."

"I don't know," I shrugged, "I think a lot. You should know that by now."

"Whatever, dork," She giggled and I smiled. "I'm going to class now. Bye, Gee."

I waved at her and entered my classroom. I looked around and noticed class hasn't started yet. I sat in one of the empty seats and took out my sketchbook. After minutes, the classroom started filling in. The teacher, Mr. Bowie, soon walked in.

"Good morning, class," He smiled.

"Good mornin'," The rest of the class muttered tiredly.

"Oh, come on. Today will be a beautiful day. Later on, you'll go back to your dorms and rest but for now, lets get working," Mr. Bowie announced. "In this assignment, you'll draw me someone important to you. Someone you love, not a possession, it has to be a person. Or perhaps, it can be someone you look up to. That'll be it today. We're starting with something easy so get started."

Everyone nodded, including me. I already have my sketchbook out, so that's one step ahead. We had a few hours and that gave me plenty of time to think who is it that I love. Maybe it could be Lindsey; she has always been there for me since high school. She even stood up to Jamia for me, which was one of the traits why I loved her. Lindsey is loyal and sweet and kind.

I didn't pick her though.

I wanted someone who made me happy and warms my heart. I smiled when the first name came up to my mind: Mikey. He's adorable and just makes me feel loved and happy. I adored that boy, my little brother, the small cheerful 'bean'.

I took my pencil and began drawing him. It was easy but difficult as well. I had to erase a couple of times to create the perfect bone structure. When I was done, there was an hour left of class. I stood up, holding the paper in hand. I walked over to Mr. Bowie's desk, laying the drawing in front of him for him to see.

He brought it closer to him as he narrowed his eyes. He smiled up at me and I couldn't help but return it.

"Very well, Gerard," Mr. Bowie exhorted. "Who is this?"

"Its my little brother, Mikey," I replied, smiling.

"Well the drawing looks worth the awe," He admired, "I'll give a 96% because you could've put in more detail, but other than that it's amazing."

"Thank you, sir." I walked back to my desk after he gave graded the drawing. The other students continued working the rest of the class while others have already turned it in.

It was finally one and I exited the classroom, along with everyone else. I went to my dorm and laid drowsily on the couch. I was about to fall in deep sleep when the door opened and slammed closed.

"What the hell, Lindsey?" I shouted, standing up from my spot.

"Sorry," She apologized, giggling. "I saw you asleep so I decided to give you a scare."

"You did a good job," I muttered grumpily.

"So how was your class?" She asked, going to the kitchen and making herself cereal, at one in the fucking afternoon. Who the fuck does that?

"It sucked ass," I grumbled.

"What? How?" She raised a brow. "First day back and something's wrong. Or you're just a drama queen who just exaggerates over everything."

"The second one," I corrected her. "Nothing went wrong, I just like being dramatic." I smirked, sighing and dropping back on the couch, dramatically.

"You're such a sass queen," She laughed, eating a spoonful of her cornflakes.

"Thanks, honey," I winked at her. We both stared at each other for what seemed like forever before we burst into laughter.

"You're funny," She sighed, her laughter dying down.

"Yeah, well, I guess I am."

"So what are you going to do about the whole 'Frank' situation?" She asked, drinking the milk before setting the bowl back down.

"I still love him," I whispered, sitting up.

"Then tell him that." She set the bowl in the sink before sitting next to me on the couch.

"I cant," I denied, "He's dating Jamia. The girl who bullied me all throughout high school. The girl who would make fun of me because of my weight and my appearance."

"Does Frank know?" She questioned. I shook my head.

"He cant know that I love him or my history with Jamia," I stammered, feeling nervous if Jamia knew I slept with her boyfriend or the reaction I'll receive if Frank knew I love him.

"Gee, calm down," She said, placing a hand on my back in a comforting way. "Tell him or you'll regret it soon."

"I will, at the right time at least."