Gerard;
The fact that Frank and I got into a disagreement so easily has been on my mind all day. It's been bothering me, always at the front of my thoughts, ahead of the things I need to be focusing on. I don't usually get into disagreements or even small arguments that quickly, or ever. I'm a fairly calm person, that's what I like about myself, I try my best to stay away from misunderstandings. This one was partially my fault, but also Frank's.
Mr. Barakat stands in front of the class, at his podium, talking about our next section. "Okay, children... In this chapter we're going to be talking about alcohol. Okay, I just want a few answers so the list doesn't get too long, but when you think of the word 'alcohol' what comes to mind?" He asks, looking around as a few hands shoot up with answers.
"Yes, Jenna?" He asks, pointing at a blonde girl up front.
"Parties," she says quietly, as if the answer might be wrong.
"Good. Bob?" He says, looking to a strawberry blonde guy close to me.
"Uh, alcohol poisoning," he comments, slouching over once Mr. Barakat nods his head in acceptance to his answer. That goes on for five or ten minutes, different people, me included, giving answers and waiting his approval on it.
"Alright, alright, this is quite the list you've guys got going here. Well, they are all excellent. Now, this first section focuses on things like influencing underage drinking, things alcohol can do, things like that. So, pull out your notebooks and let's go take some notes!"
Half the class groans at that, but I don't. I love notes in this class, he condenses it all down so that we don't have to wrote fifty thousand paragraphs for one section. It usually ends up being half a page a day, one page on occasion. Nothing too bad. It's simple.
*
With the hope and determination to apologize to Frank, I rush from Spanish and to the gymnasium. I'm not afraid to apologize and admit that I was in the wrong, I'm just scared that he won't want to talk to me and listen to what I have to say.
I cannot stand it when someone is angry with me, it brings me down. I cannot stand it someone doesn't like me. It's one thing to be invisible, but to know that someone doesn't like me is just disheartening, especially when I've only talked to said person two or three times.
When I burst into the gymnasium, I don't see any sign of Frank, or anyone really. I did rush here, so there's still a while left in hall passing. Better use these few minutes to my own advantage. Quickly situating myself on the floor in my corner, I pull out my worn journal and flip the pages to the one I left off on. I just write my thoughts, this is one topic that I don't need to physically observe a person for.
...
Gerard Way
I guess I'm not the best with words when I'm not writing them down in a stupid journal.. No offense, journal.. And I guess I don't always know the right thing to say in the heat of the moment. I guess my people skills are only limited to teachers, Mom, Dad, and Mikey. It's not something I'm proud of because today I might have just made someone hate me. But then again, maybe not.. I don't know. I don't like getting accused of things that aren't true and I especially hate when things come out the wrong way. I just want to have a friend that isn't my brother or my mom. I want someone who I can come to school and see everyday, invite over to play video games or whatever. Sometimes I just wonder if I did something to get the short end of the stick because Mikey has more friends than people I've ever spoken to. Maybe that's an exaggeration...
The bell rings, making me stop my vigorous scribbling of words. The gym has filled up a significant amount from the vacance I was encased in when I stepped in. Roll call has started, the steady repetition of the word 'here' giving me a migraine. Eventually, though, it ends with me quietly repeating the one-syllable word.
"We're staying inside today, so... Do homework, talk, or whatever, just don't do anything to disrupt the Team Sports class," Mr. Carlile says before turning and walking out the double doors to hand his attendance slip in to the office.
I smile and take this time to slowly make my way to the lonely boy who, like usual, is sitting against the bleachers. I take baby steps, trying to figure out how to apologize. I always make my apologies extravagant by explaining in thorough detail why I'm sorry and making sure they understand. It's really stupid because I'm pretty sure Frank could care less whether I talk to him again or not.
Without an apology set in mind, I sit down next to Frank, making sure there's a fairly decent amount space set between us, and tap his shoulder lightly. He turns his gaze to me, almost instantly burning holes through me. "Yes?"
I swallow down the lump that is trying to form in my throat and force myself to talk and sound somewhat confident with it. "I'm sorry about Biology.. I didn't mean to make you angry. See, I just wanted you to understand what I was thinking, like how I work, I mean, I don't want you think I was trying to make you mad. I wasn't. I just wanted you to know that I don't like you, like, um, romantically, and-" I stop rambling when I notice a smile cracked on his face and giggles emerging from it. "What?"
"Nothing. No, you're just freaking out over that whole thing. I'm not mad," he says, amusement evident in his voice.
"You looked mad though," I point out.
"I always look mad," he states, which is kind of a fact. Except for now, now he looks alive and joyous, a wide smile on his face. Even though it slightly contradicts what I told him in Biology, I can't help but notice that he looks really attractive when he's smiling, looking lively.
"Not now," I reply.
"No, that's true, I just have a reason to smile now," he says lightly. And, in all honesty, that statement makes my mood sky rocket. There will never be a good explanation of how excited I get when I'm the reason for someone's joy.
"Um, g-good? Yeah, good. So you're not mad at me?" I ask again, just to make sure.
"I am not mad at you. If anything you should be mad at me," he says sincerely.
"I generally don't get mad at people. I'm a really calm person," I explain.
"Mm," he hums in understanding. "I have a question."
"As long as your goal isn't to upset me or anger me," I bargain, repeating what I said to him in biology.
"Nope. But one day could you tell me what's in your journal?" He sounds honestly curious, and he should be. I would be.
"Maybe one day," I sigh, leaning my back against the bleachers. "Maybe one day.."
I don't know why I promised that. I've never told someone that I would let them know what's in my journal, heck, I don't even let people touch my journal. What do I find so special, or so great, about Frank that I promise him that?
"Yeah?" He asks, sounding kind of surprised.
"Yeah. I mean, it'd take a while for me to, like, trust you enough, but.. Yeah."
I look over and see him smile a little, just with the corner of his mouth. "That's okay. I have a feeling the wait will be worth it."
I think today is the day that I finally made a friend. A good, real, genuine friend who won't let me down.
*~*~*~*
Shorter than the others, but aye! Friendship!
And, I want you guys to know that I appreciate you for reading my story/stories. You guys are honestly great people and I love all of your comments, you guys inspire me to think of new stories and push myself to get better at writing. So, thank you all, and I love you guys so much.
xoCrashFire
