The Nerd and the Whore

Chapter 1

Frank's POV

It's three in the morning, god damn. Staring at my ceiling fan, I realize I'm awake for God knows what reason. Am I with friends? Nope, for the moment I don't have them; don't need them, but hey, I have wifi and leftover mac and cheese from yesterday's dinner.

I am two weeks into summer, and I still haven't dyed my hair, which pisses me off. My mom promised me that I could dye the sides of it red. Not just boring red. I mean dark red - as dark as my soul - to specify.

I have been decent in school throughout my life. I was the kid in the back with no one to do their lab with. The only benefit of being a lonely nerd was not having to deal with preps' stupidity. My grade is especially dumb. They were doing pot at the age of 14, whilst I was in the back, laughing my ass off. Once, I did do something stupid. I'm a teenager, after all. Can you blame my easily peer pressured self?

I was tired of being a lonely nerd, and wanted to get in with the preps. Why the preps? Mostly out of wanting to be wanted. I succeeded in entering their special little cult that ruled the high school. I went to parties, socialized, drank, and did things I would've never done when I acted like myself. The one thing I will never forget is the night I made out with one of the senior gymnasts. He was cute and everything, but I'm pretty sure he was wasted beyond common sense. Plus, he was one of the schools biggest man whores.

After that night, I refused alcohol and ran like hell. I knew there were pictures of the kiss, but I never knew Patrick would leak the pictures onto Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr. Then, the true horror came: people printed those pictures; pinned them on all the school walls. Teachers saw them and immediately called my mom. I went to a Catholic school at the time, and God forbid I kissed a guy and I liked it.

Besides becoming a porn page on Tumblr, that's when the beatings started. The guy that I face raped was a senior and got out of school early, which meant the douche got the least of it. I was the gay, emo fag that forced my tongue down a school hero's throat. Oh, but wait, I'm the victim if he kissed me back, right?

I went through the last semester of my freshman year being bullied, and constantly coming home with new bruises.

My mom decided to transfer me to a new school for my sophomore year, after an incident where I came home with 3 broken ribs and a huge gash across my forehead. When I went to the doctor, they discovered I had developed an eating disorder and recommended me to an eating specialist. I knew I wouldn't want to go back to school after that, so I finished 9th grade online, and passed with a B average.

It's now 4am, and all I can do is think about those beautiful hazel eyes locked on mine. I miss his alcohol scented breath down my neck. I stopped us from going too far, I hope. If it had, he could've ended up in jail. I would've thrown myself off a cliff if he went to jail for my stupidity.

I just want to be normal, and that's all I will ever want to be. If my past catches up with me at this new school, I'm fucked. I will be tortured. Maybe since I'm going to a non-religious school, then maybe it won't be as hard to find the weird nerds that I can relate with.

First, I am going to live this summer like its my last. By that, I mean avoid people at all costs. I will be inside, reading, most of the summer. If I go outside, it's to go to the mall, and shop at Hot Topic. I will still be inside, but I will be with my type of people. The nerds and emos. I live to shop at Hot Topic. They have everything from 1D to Slipknot. If that's not a drastic difference, I don't know what is.

I sleep through the rest of the night, awakening to my moms cooking. I can tell it's her cooking because I've already heard three pans fall to the ground. I'm pretty sure we don't have three pans, either. What happened when I transferred, is I had to move across the state. My dad and sister stayed in the old house until it got sold. I miss my sister. She's the only one who knew everything. More like, I've told her everything. She's the only one that I can trust.

When I get downstairs, my mom has already set the table for her and myself.

"Good morning, Frankie." Mom says, way too cheerfully.

"Morning. Do you mind if I skip breakfast today? I didn't get much sleep. I want to catch up on my sleep, so I don't get as stressed over stupid things." I reply, trying to be nice.

"Sure, honey. Just make sure you eat lunch. You know what happens when you don't eat."

"I know, mom. I'll talk to you later." I smile as I exit, because for the first time in a month, I get to skip her burnt toast breakfasts.

When I get upstairs, I of course have to check social media. Twitter is spammed with favorites of my random ass tweets about random ass people. I also have about 20 new followers, which is surprising because I don't follow many people. I wouldn't know why people would want to follow me anyways. I'm boring, and all I do is respond to band tweets.

As I scroll through the new followers, I see one thing that catches my eye.

A beautiful pair of hazel eyes.