Teenage Dirtbag

23 3 5
                                    

His name is Gerard.

I have some dreams about him, if you know what I mean.

Actually, I have many, many dreams about him. And funnily enough, none of them include his boyfriend Bert.

There are a few issues with my having a crush on Gerard. One of which being that its less of a crush and more of an I've-been-in-love-with-you-for-three-years type thing. Another one being that he doesn't know who I am, nor does he give a damn about me.

A sharp bell cuts through my thoughts, and it's finally lunch. I have gym class in half an hour, so I plug in my old headphones and click shuffle on my playlist. Speed Of Light starts playing and I nod my head slightly to the beat while I pack my things away and head outside.

Making my way over to my usual seat- on the gound sat behind a large tree- I keep my eyes to the floor and end up banging right into someone walking by.

"Shit I'm so sorry I wasn't looking-" I start rambling, taking out one headphone and looking up at the person I bumped into and of fucking course it had to be Bert.

"Yeah you weren't looking were you. You were too busy being a fucking dirtbag to watch where you walk. Be fucking careful, because I won't be so nice next time, fucking gay bitch," he spat at my black converse and shoved past me. Clearly he isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, because he insulted me by calling me gay, obviously forgetting about his boyfriend and my, well, lack of boyfriend.

But anyway, that's me. I'm just a teenage dirtbag, and there's nothing I can do about it. At least I have a good music taste- I don't know what Bert listens to but I can guarentee its not as good as this. And apparently my playlist agrees, since Death Or Glory starts playing and I continue nodding my head in time with the music.

I sit down behind my tree, and apparently I can't get a minute of peace today, because as soon as I open my bag to get my sandwich out, somebody taps me on the shoulder.

"What do you want?" I snap, sick of people trying to make conversation with me. A familiar voice stops me in my tracks, and I look up, instantly regretting my, admittedly rather small, outburst.

"Gerard. Hi, sorry I didn't know who it was, I thought you were Bob or someone," the name Bert very nearly slips out of my mouth, but I catch myself.

"Nope! Just me," he replies, smiling as he asks if he can sit.

"Yeah of course, just give me a second," I stumble on my words, and move my bag to give Gerard some space to sit down. I take out the headphone in the ear nearest Gerard, but keep the other one in, and I turn the volume down so I can hear him.

"What're you listening to?" Gerard asks

"Oh you, you probably dont know them."

"Try me."

"I uh, I'm listening to Iron Maiden, Death Or Glory."

"Oh my gosh I love Iron Maiden, that's so cool! What's your favourite song by them? Mine's Children Of The Damned."

"That's a very good song, but I have to say that Back In The Village is the best one they've done, I mean come on have you heard the song? Nothing can beat it."

"Oh absolutely not, it's the weakest song in the record. What else do you listen to?"

"Uh Black Flag, Misfits, Black Sabbath, that sort of thing."

"Ooh cool, you have great taste in music. I love Misfits and Black Flag, but I'd say I'm into more classic rock, you know Bowie, Iggy Pop, Queen."

I smile, and we sit in silence for most of lunch. Gerard also plugs in some earphones and we listen to music together.

It was nice.

It's prom night, and I'm still as lonely as ever. Everyone is buzzing with excitement, I'm buzzing with restlessness, I knew I shouldn't have stayed up all night and then drank a monster in the morning. I don't know what I was thinking.

I can't wait for the bell to ring, and as soon as it does, I'm packing my things and I'm out the door. Until I hear Gerard calling my name anyway, asking me to wait.

"I've got two tickets to Iron Maiden baby, come with me Friday? And don't say maybe," he asks, and I'm in shock. Why does he give a damn about me?

"What happened to Bert? He'll hate me, and you, if he finds out we're going together when you're with him," I explain, because its obvious that if I go, Bert wont let me walk away in one piece.

"Well, about that. I uh, I'm not with him. He broke up with me."

"I'm so sorry about that, do you mind me asking why?"

"Because I came out to him as non binary. I'm just a teenage dirtbag like you, apparently," Gerard says, and his words just sort of hang in the air.

"That sucks. Not you being non binary, him breaking up with you because of it. That sucks. He sucks. He's a sucky guy," I trip over my words, and my lip starts to shake. "So what pronouns do you want me to use for you?"

"They/ them. And could you call me Gee please? spelled G-e-e."

I nod, and I test out the name.

"Well Gee, I'd love to go with you on Friday. What time is it?"

"Seven o'clock. In the evening."

"I'll pick you up at six then."

"It's at seven?"

"I know, I figured we could go get some food before the show, if you'd like?"

"I'd love that Frank"

Coming Out Of My Cage (I've Been Doing Just Fine)Where stories live. Discover now