Death Is Strange

TWELVE

Frank's photograph of Gerard turned out well. He posed Gerard in the darkest corner of his room, shirtless, a finger to his lips, his eyes downcast. The cuts on his arms were visible, and when Frank edited it, he made everything black and white apart from the angry red gashes and the scarlet eyeshadow Gerard wore. He titled it AWAKE AND UNAFRAID, and had it printed out for class on Tuesday.

When he set it down on Mr. Armstrong's desk, his teacher looked first surprised, then pleased and impressed. "This is wonderful. You're a natural."

"Yeah, well, it helps when you're working with someone who's photogenic," Frank admitted. "Gerard's a really great model."

"No kidding. He's got a great figure, too."

Frank blinked, not sure if he'd heard Mr. Armstrong right, but Mr. Armstrong was already getting a magnet from his desk drawer to put the picture up on the edge of the whiteboard.

After class, several classmates complimented Frank on his work. "I'm in deep shit now that I have to top that," James admitted, falling into step beside Frank as they left the classroom. "And you got it done fast, too."

"I had to, before the cuts... you know, healed anymore," Frank said delicately.

A rough tattooed hand grabbed Frank by the shoulder, shoving him up against a row of lockers. "I saw that gay-ass photograph you took," Danny sneered. "How the hell did you get that freak to take his shirt off? You must have promised him a lot of sex in return. Faggot."

"Hey!" James shoved Danny off Frank. "You're just jealous you can't take any photo that's not a dick pic. Get off my friend, you asshole."

Forgetting all about Frank, Danny turned to James, rage in his pale blue eyes. "Who the hell do you think you are, Dewees?"

"Oh, I don't know, someone who's real fucking sick of how you treat everyone? Jesus Christ, Worsnop. It's like you're trying to get everyone to hate you."

Danny's fist connected with James's mouth, and then he stepped back, leering as James put a hand over his bloody lips. "Go fuck yourself," he sputtered, blood dripping through his fingers.

"Kill yourself, bitch," Danny leered, storming off.

"Touché. A moment of silence for Denis," Frank muttered. "You still have all your teeth?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. He didn't punch me that hard. He's toying with me. God, I hate that bastard."

Ray, who had stayed behind to talk to Mr. Armstrong, now came hurrying over. "Oh my gosh, what happened?"

"Just a little run in with Danny," Frank said.

Ray pulled out a pack of Kleenex, handing a few to James. "It could have been worse," he said gently. "You still have all your teeth, right?"

James nodded. "Just went over this with Frank. I'll be fine, man. I'm just going to stop in the bathroom and rinse my mouth out." He dabbed at his mouth and chin with the wad of Kleenex. "It's cool. Better me than you. You need your kisser more than I need mine." James laughed at his own remark and walked off.

Ray looked over Frank's shoulder. "Hey, Gee," he said.

Gerard hugged Frank from behind, kissing him lightly on the neck. "Is James okay?"

"Yep. Got a bloody lip. He's fine." Ray shouldered his backpack. "I'm going to the library with Mikey in a few minutes. See you guys later." He waved, turning and walking off.

Gerard still had his arms around Frank. "Having Photography with you is so distracting."

Frank smirked. "You too. But seriously, so many people complimented my photo, and Mr. Armstrong said you have a nice figure."