Fight Fire with Fire (Frerard)

17. I Walk a Fine Line Between Coping and Insanity

So, you know how I said I felt this little thing called hope? Yeah, well I lied. Well...sort of. I did feel hope. Key word being did. All hope left my body when I got told by mom that we were having a 'family intervention'. Kill me.

"Sit down boys." Mom says, making Frank glance at me nervously.

We take a seat, deciding to just ignore the thick silence filling the kitchen. I notice dad's unhappy and pissed off eyes on me. Shit...

"What's up?" Frank mumbles.

Have they found out about Father John and I? Did the school ring them and tell them about the fight's I got involved in?

Anxiety fills me as I look between my concerned parents.

"There's a few things to discuss. First off, Frank, how has school been? Staying out of trouble?" Mom asks expectantly.

Frank shrugs, "It's fine."

The vague answer makes dad's eyes only get angrier.

"Right. Okay. Gerard, what about you? Staying out of trouble?"

I look anywhere but my parent's hawk eyes. They are trying to pry for answers, and I don't know what they want me to say.

"Yep. Always have." I lie.

Dad clear's his throat, causing both Frank and my eyes to fall on his.

"If so, then why did we get a phone call from your principle, Gerard?"

My eyes widen. Oh no...

"W-What did he say?" I ask, moving in my seat trying to get into a comfortable position.

Mom sighs, "Baby, your grades are dropping dramatically. From A's to almost getting D's."

No way. No way in hell am I failing my schoolwork. I've been doing all the right things at school. Yeah, I haven't studied in a bit, and maybe I haven't been able to focus on the teacher's voice for longer than 2 seconds, but I had no idea my grades were dramatically dropping...is this why the teacher was asking if everything was fine with me, when Frank came along?

"N-No. They can't be." I mumble, confused.

How have they dropped so much in such little time?

"Well it's either you or your principle lying, Gerard. Either way, you've been acting weird lately and quite frankly, I am sick of it."

My eyebrows furrow, growing annoyed.

"I'm not." I say firmly.

Frank steals a worried glance my way as I roll my eyes. I'm pissed off. I really am. Fuck them; trying to tell me that I am acting differently.

"Right. So, I am guessing we are making up the idea of you smoking, too?" Dad spits.

My eyes once again go wide with shock. How do they know?!

"I-um...I-I..." Stuttering, Frank decides to jump in.

"I smoke. He doesn't. He always bitches to me about how bad it is." He partially lies.

I tremble with panic as dad and mom glance at Frank.

"Are you telling the truth, Frank?"

Frank nods, fishing his pockets before pulling out a pack of cigarettes, almost empty.

"See?"

To say dad and mom are pissed off with him, would be an understatement. Although they are angry at Frank, I can't help but notice the slight relief filling their eyes.