Notes (frerard)

Chapter Two

I wasn't sure what Frank did after I left that monday, but I know he came to no harm as he cheerily strolled past me every morning that week, turning to give me a cheeky smile each day before continuing toward school. I wondered if anyone knew about our little deed, if anyone saw, or if frank had told even a soul. No, frank didn't seem the kind of person to brag about something like that, not after the reaction of our English class to his simple note. Moreover, another thing lingered In my mind; when we finally spoke up after the events of the night, Frank didn't seem all so confident anymore. It seemed I almost made him nervous. Was this a good thing? I suppose the position we were both in made him - and myself - very vulnerable. But I can't seem to get him off my mind. For fucks sake I even jacked off in the school bathroom the day after our meeting - twice. This small man was having such an impact on my life, but I was more than happy with it.

After it had been a week since our get together, I decided to approach the man I was so fond of. I contemplated whether straight up talking to him or whether to use his approach and write him a subtle note. A note it was. As I perched myself at the front of school that morning, I brought out a black biro and a small scrap of paper I snatched off my desk before leaving home. "Hey there, so how about after school at my place, we can jam to misfits if you want?" I scribbled down my address "hope to see you later then." Neatly folding the note in to my palm, I leapt up and made my way towards today's torture - a little earlier than normal, considering I had a little task to do - and let out a happy sigh. I'm sure the day would be much more pleasant with a possible evening with Frank following it.

I passed my own locker. Slowly, my eyes followed the sturdy rectangle around the door, in hope of catching a glimpse of any note that could have been worked in to the tight gap. Yet although there was none, I did not feel disappointed; I would be making the move this time. Trailing around the corner and then following a couple more left turns, I found myself outside what I knew as Frank Iero's locker. To be honest, you couldn't mistake that it was Frank's locker- it was roughly spray painted black, contrasting with the ugly yellow that was present on every other locker in this school. On top of the new paint job, "Frank" had been forcefully etched in to the centre of the door, an anarchy symbol gracing the centre of his fluent name. On top of this, various band names were also scratched in to the paintwork as well as a punky sticker assortment covering other small patches. There I took the note between my thumb and forefinger, then worked it in to the slightly wider gap in the door of Frank's locker. That should do it. Now on time - or considerably late in many teacher's opinions - I made my way back to the class that week after week bored me to death. Biology.

As I settled in the classroom and let the shouts of my teacher not even touch my ears, it dawned on me. I would be in English next - just like last week - and I could hopefully get that seat next to Frank. This thought caused both an uneasy jolt in my stomach and a light happiness in my head. Concentrate gee, just be early to a lesson for once. Just then, the shrill scream of the school bell told me it was time to leave. As I urged through the crowd to get to English, a high, stern voice caught my eardrum. "Gerard Way! I would like you to come back and have a word with me. Your attendance to my classes has been appalling! We need to organise some catch up lessons I think." "Fuck" I mouthed as I stumbled back through the many students until i was face to face with the teacher once again. "Mr way, if you would follow me we can make arrangeme-" I cut in "but I've got to go to my next class miss!" Her eyes narrowed "why are you in such a rush for your next lesson? You never seem to be this keen on entering any of my lessons." In a careful, hushed voice my anger came out with "That's because I don't like them." "Didn't quite get that" The teacher spoke down to me after the words were silently mouthed. "Nothin'. Let's just get it over with. Where do you suggest and when?" The biology teacher went silent for a few seconds before exclaiming "my lab, every lunchtime this week. That should get you back up to standard. No skiving. Bring your lunch. Oh, and don't forget this will appear on your permanent record, I'm afraid." And with that, she was off.