K-12 | Frerard

chapter eight

"I need your help."

Frank looked up at Bob, who stared back with unblinking blue eyes. It was quite unnerving really, how his pale eyes could turn black within moments when he was using his powers. Bob's lips and cheeks were completely healed now, and Frank would have never been able to tell of the wounds that were previously there.

"You want my help," Bob raised one brow, looking down at Frank skeptically. "With boy problems?"

"Please," Frank begged. "I have no friends at this school – "

"What about that guy you're always stuck to?" Bob asked, before sighing. "Oh, this is about him, isn't it?" Bob sighed, shaking his head. Gerard was hanging out with Jimmy's friends again, but Frank had managed to single out Bob at recess.

"This is because I'm gay, isn't it?" Bob rolled his eyes, growling. "I mention it once and now little twink boys who think they're punks come crawling to me for emotional help."

Frank wasn't sure if he should be more scared that Bob had just mentioned being gay (because as Ray said, Bob killed people who mentioned it), or upset over the fact Bob had (possibly) insulted him.

"I – I got a letter, too," Frank held up the purple envelope, and Bob laughed, holding out a hand. "Give it here." He said, and Frank handed him the letter.

Bob cleared his throat, beginning to read out loud when Frank shushed him. "Read it in your head! Please,"

"This is the fucking weirdest thing I've ever seen." Bob shook his head. "It looks like it was written by terrified rats on cocaine. Who's it from?"

"I don't know," Frank admitted. "It wasn't signed."

"Well, it was obviously Gerard." Bob shrugged. "But if you're convinced it's not, then it was definitely a boy. Anyone with eyes can see that you're a fag, and a girl would have signed her letter."

"Gerard's asking Lindsey to the dance," Frank said, and Bob snorted. "He'll have fun getting through Jimmy."

"I really don't think it was Gerard," Frank persisted. "He's straight. Super, super straight."

"Ah, yes," Bob grunted. "A very straight guy with a dyed uniform and painted nails."

"He's just rebellious," Frank defended, and Bob looked at him. "Do you not want it to be Gerard? 'Cause that's what it sort of looks like. I mean, you've definitely hooked up. Does it even matter at this point?"

"What the fuck?" Frank cried, astonished. "We – We're not like that! It's not that way, Bob, okay?" If Frank was being completely honest here, he'd never hooked up with anyone. But that wasn't his fault; he wouldn't have wanted to do it with a girl, and boys were far, far off-limits.

"Never? Not even once?"

Frank waved at himself. "Do you see me? I'm not Gerard's type."

"If by Gerard's type you mean a skinny white boy with a fucking horrible personality, then you're definitely his type." Bob told him, and Frank stomped his foot in frustration. "No!" He said. "By Gerard's type, I mean a hot girl."

"I can't deal with you and your one brain cell." Bob huffed, picking up a beetle from the ground. "Beetle, I enchant you to speak. Has Gerard ever been attracted to a guy?"

"Yes," The beetle croaked, in a very weird, insect-like way, and Frank didn't even have time to yell at Bob for enchanting a living thing because he was too busy plugging his ears and running off. "I DON'T want to HEAR THAT!" Frank shouted as he scrambled off, with Bob laughing. For all Frank knew, Bob had told the beetle to say yes, but it really didn't seem that way since he'd only picked it up just then, and UGH.