Chapter 12

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Frank's POV

Wondering around on the main ground, trying to find something interesting to do for the day. I walked across the grass, spotting from afar, Gerard sitting on the ground. His head was down, his hand working on writing or something rather close to sketching or other. I looked around, slowly walking to the sidelines, carefully approaching him from behind and then coming up beside him. "Hey, whatcha doing?" I asked, still smiling. That is until I felt a very painful spike come to my leg after hearing a short, high-pitched scream.

"Shit-" I whispered, falling to the ground and feeling my whole body thud against the grass. "Oh my God! Frank! Are you okay?" Gerard asked, discarding his now closed sketchbook. "I'm so sorry, I'm still not used to not being immediately tackled by my brother," Gerard told me, looking fairly panicked on his knees as he looked over my body. I sat up, feeling a pain in my leg, leaning over to see a red spot on my calf, right where the bone happened to be. "Holy shit, what does he do to you that you're prepared to smack him at Mach 3 speed?!" I asked, looking up at his horrified face.

"All jokes, but seriously, you've got one hell of a hand," I told him, trying to ease his worrying, which didn't work. "I-I'll go get some ice. Stay here," Gerard frantically told me, standing up, revealing grass stains on his knees as he ran to most likely the kitchen. I let the facade slip away as I pinched my arm to use pain to distract me from the horrible pain in my leg. "Shit-" I hissed as I wiped my eyes from the little bit of "tears" that came from me squeezing my eyes way too tight.

I noticed after opening my eyes that Gerard's sketchbook was still on the ground, out in the open where anyone could grab it. I saw some boys walking towards the sketchbook, or maybe it was my imagination. Either way, I lunged for the sketchbook, despite the persistent throbbing pain in my leg, holding it close to my chest with the pencil in my hand. I sighed, looking at my leg, barely looking up to see all the boys talking to each other in a group. Better safe than sorry.

"Hey, they had some ice, here," Gerard told me, his voice gentle and caring as he placed it on my leg. The pressure was almost non-existent, staying there and then looking up at me with an apologetic expression. "It doesn't hurt that bad, does it?" Gerard asked, though I shook my head and sighed out of relief as I put my head against my knees. "You're pretty strong though," I whispered, smiling a little bit as I looked up a little, still resting against my uncovered knees.

"Not really, I'd blame that bit on adrenaline," Gerard squeaked, looking around and witnessing a whole new panic in his eyes. I saw him frantically scan the grass, realizing what he was looking for after a few minutes. "Hey, if you're looking for your sketchbook, I have it. I didn't want anyone stepping on it," I told him, using the same gentle tone he had with me. I removed the sketchbook from against my chest, put the pencil in the spiral part where it fit, and handed the book to Gerard. His face fell into relief as he took the book in his hands, holding it in his arms and sighing.

"Thank you, I was worried those boys over there stole it. They had been staring at me since I sat down," Gerard mumbled, side-eyeing the group. I looked over, seeing that the four boys had been staring at us before averting their gaze to converse again. "Yeah, I saw them walking towards it, though they stopped where they are once I grabbed it," I whispered, looking over and catching his attention.

"Well, thank you," Gerard whispered back, smiling as he sat there and took a deep breath. "You alright? The adrenaline wore off a little bit?" I asked, leaning back and supporting myself by my left arm with my right arm holding the makeshift ice pack to my leg. "Yeah, just a bit tired from running and panic," Gerard confessed after a while, crossing his legs as he sat comfortably.

"Well, lunch is starting soon. Maybe we should go to the mess hall to replenish your energy," I suggested, seeing him nod and stand. Gerard put his hand out to me, helping me up with ease. I stood on my right leg a little to assess the damage, feeling a twinge of pain and immediately falling forward onto Gerard. "Sorry, I overestimated my bones," I told him, laughing as I stood on my own, mostly relying on my left leg. "It's alright, if you need to use me as a crutch, just say so," Gerard subtly offered, though I shook my head. He stood beside me as we walked -slowly- to the mess hall, entered the doors right as the bell rang.

"Well, just in time. Come on, let's be the first one in line," Gerard whispered, though I don't know why, getting to the starting point of the line. "Mm, Wednesday. That means we have spring rolls today," I told myself, feeling my water at the thought. It was, so far, my favorite meal through the very few Wednesdays I had gone through and grabbed some spring rolls. We waited a minute before being handed trays, fresh out of the dishwasher, then we slid down the line.

After grabbing food, we decided to sit at the fox table this time, seeing as the guys that had been staring at us happened to be from the wolf cabin. We decided that confrontation wasn't what we were up for at the moment. Sitting down, still wielding an ice pack and resting it against my leg as I ate with my left hand. "So, how's your Spring Roll?" Gerard asked, eating another chicken fry as he made eye contact with me. "Heavenly, as always. How about you're chicken fries?" I asked, taking another bite as I waited for Gerard to finish his bite.

"It's pretty good, Wednesday's are always the best," Gerard told me, as if I didn't already know, though I certainly agreed as I ate. Lunch was always the best, and dinner was something to behold, but nothing could beat the Wednesday Spring Rolls and Chicken Fries. I took a deep breath, feeling okay at the moment as I ate and looked at Gerard. Having a friend like him, even if I just got whacked in the leg about 15 minutes ago, was the best thing that ever happened to me.

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