What are we? (Frerard)

We are partners in crime.

"We're doing a group project in art." Pete leaned back in the chair and our study hall teacher gave him a warning look, which of course he ignored.
"Do we get to pick who are partners are?" I asked. Not that it mattered much; Pete has art a different period, and I have no particular friends in that class to want to be with.
"No, but she assigned me with this kid named Patrick."
"Oh the fedora kid?" I was proud I remembered his name. He's in my chemistry class.
"One and only."
"So what's the assignment?"
"It's a-" his sentence was interrupted by the bell that signified class was over.
"Guess I'll go find out." I said getting up.
I gathered my binders up and made my way into the hall.
Pete went off in another direction and I saw Lindsey leaning against a locker flirting with some dude. I went up and she dismissed the guy once she say me.
"Hello. Who was that?" I smirked, wiggling my eyebrows to tease her.
"Ew stop! Chat is just a friend! He was telling me about his band."
We began walking and a thought came to me; she never talks about guys other than when j bring up Pete. It's clear she doesn't have the same feelings she once did, but a little bits still there no matter how much she denies it.
"Why not date him?" I finally got the guts to ask. I always feel like I'm being nosy whenever I ask her stuff.
"I-I don't know, never really thought about him like that." She tucked her hair behind her ear and shied away. "Besides, he's not my type."
"What is your type?"
"I don't think I've ever met anyone who is my type. Maybe I'm just too picky." She gave a small half hearted smile then said goodbye before disappearing into a classroom.
I entered the stuffy art room and sat in the back next to this cute guy named Kellin.
The teacher started class and we waited patiently for her to get started.
"Oliver and Joe, Tony and Andy, Victor and Kellin, Haley and Kylo. Mikey and Frank." After I heard my name I stopped listening. I turned my head to look across the room at Mikey, who was focused on drawing something rather than meeting my gaze. I sighed and shifted my position over to my parter just as the rest of the class. "Your assignment is that you need to make a portrait of someone you look up too. For example, maybe your mom, dad, boss, brother, sister, it can even be a singer or the president." I heard soft snickers from the class and soft mumbling as the class spoke with their partners about who they could do. "Be creative! But take your time. The project isn't due until May." She spoke over the class of murmuring voices. "Alright! Get to work!" And with that the class erupted with loud chatter and shuffling of paper.
"May is so long from now. It's September." I spoke, a horrible attempt to make conversation. He looked up at me from his drawing and shrugged.
"It's just Mrs. Gail trying to avoid actually teaching us anything." He responded chuckling slightly. It was such a rough and quiet sound, but still was enough to ease my awkwardness.
"True, but you can't exactly teach art-"
"You can. It's just not really an important requirement in most people's opinion." He contradicted.
"I would have loved to learn some drawing techniques. I'm self taught so I lack in that category." I sighed.
"So, what are we going to do for our project?" He asked done with my rambling small talk.
"Um I don't know. Who do you look up too?" I asked. He shrugged.
"Would I seem like a child if I said my mom?"
"No." I thought about my mom and took a deep breath. "Why her?" I asked, kinda intrigued.
"I don't really have anyone else, you know? Actually scratch that, I look up to James Hetfield." He said.

"Metallica. Nice." I spoke smiling to myself at the shared interest. "Anyone else?" I asked. My throat felt dry and I don't know why.
"Well I have my older brother..." He clarified hesitantly.
"Oh. Do you not look up to him?"
Mikey went quiet and pursed his lips. He pushed his glasses further up his nose. Then spoke, "What about you? Who do you look up too?" I decided to push aside the fact he completely ignored my question about his brother. He probably had a good reason. I'm not gonna dabble where I'm not wanted.
I realized his question was still hanging in the air and my gaze shifted down at my hands at how embarrassing that is. "No one in particular."
"I see, how about Keith Richards?" He sighed wanting this process to be over with. I already felt a creativity block forming in my mind.
"Sure." I agreed.
"You good at sketching faces?" He asked and pushed his notebook towards me.
"You could say that." I shrugged flipping my pencil nervously between fingers.