School Hours (Frerard) [Completed!]

Chapter One - Skinny Jeans

Frank's POV

I check myself in the mirror one last time before heading out of my room. I was wearing the usual outfit; black skinny jeans, a black Misfits shirt and my red beat-up Converse.

I shrugged on my old and worn back pack and ran a hand through my black hair, attempting to tame it. I then double-checked that my eyeliner hadn't smudged, and once I was happy with how I looked, I walked downstairs, to be greeted by an empty house.

My Dad hasn't been around since I was six, when he left my mom and me for his secretary, which he had knocked up, "accidentally". That brings me to my mom, who is probably out with some random guy, or passed out in her room from the alcohol.

Yup, after my Dad left us, my mom became a mess and an alcoholic. How she managed to pay for the bills is beyond me, but I wouldn't dare to ask, I would probably receive a smack on the back of my head.

I put a slice of bread on the toaster and begin picking at my chipped black nail polish, grimacing slightly and making a mental note to re-paint my chewed nails.

An ejecting sound lets me know my toast is ready, and I shove it in my mouth as I leave my house and begin making my usual walk to school.

Or prison rather than school.

Four tall, off-white walls in the shape of a massive rectangle keeping us trapped and forcing us to study and take tests and learn bullshit we will never use in the real world.

Ah, because I am positive I will use trigonometry when I grow up.

Luckily, I had Ray to keep me entertained in school; the boy knew how to make me laugh in the middle of Science class for sure.

We weren't at the bottom of the food chain at school, but we weren't at the top either.

Neither Ray nor I got heavily bullied, but the usual 'faggot' was yelled at me in the hallways by the group of jocks, not that I minded either way. I just flipped them off and earned a chuckle or ignored them when I was in a bad mood, but when I was in a good mood, I usually responded to their comments, making them angry.

I was openly gay to the school, or as Ray likes to put it "A flaming homosexual", which suited me fine.

No one seemed to mind really, either that or no one dared to say anything, except Kyle and his group of 'popular guys', the ones that occasionally said a rude comment.

For the teachers, I was the 'bad guy', I have always been.

Ever since kindergarten, when I used to cut girls' hairs or ruin boys' art projects, I was just categorized as the one who was to blame, the one who always made a mess.

Then again, I didn't mind.

I liked pissing off the teachers, and I enjoyed detention for it, it kept me from coming back to my house, where my mom would flip at me for my bad grades or make me go out and buy her booze.

I liked cussing, and if they were gonna send me to the principal's office for it then go ahead, I like to consider Martin, otherwise known as Mr. Goldberry to the rest of the school, friends, even though he thought I was a pain in the ass.

And I tried my best to be one.

Speaking about the prison, I look up from the floor to see I've arrived to Belleville High School. I try not to scoff and shuffle inside, avoiding people and shooting glares at those who stare at me for what I consider too long.

I reach my locker and take out the books I need for my first period and scan the hallways for the brown afro of my best friend.

After a few minutes, I lean my head against the locker and the bell rings, no sight of Ray anywhere.