Room To Grow (Frerard) (Completed)

1-The Mystery Of Room 420

The elementary school was intimidating, but that might have just been a Frank thing. Most people weren't horrified by the thought of kindergarteners; they were in fact one of the least scary age groups. If there was any group of minors that would logically frighten someone, it would be teenagers, but Frank Iero was inexplicably frightened by small children.

Maybe frightened was the wrong word. He wasn't afraid in that he would scream if he saw a five year out on the street, he just didn't like kids.

So it really fucking sucked that he was working at an elementary school of all places. And he was only being paid minimum wage.

He entered the school with a reasonable amount of trepidation, cautiously walking to where he assumed the office was. The hallways were empty and the school sounded deserted. Then again, it was only 8:15, and school didn't start until 9:15. He had just been told to show up early, and maybe Frank wanted to make a good impression in case he could get off early.

He was greeted by a plump middle aged secretary seated behind a desk in the office. "Hi, honey, are you lost? This isn't the high school," she told him, condescension evident in her tone. She thought he was a high schooler, Frank realized with a scowl. Well, he was actually twenty, for her information.

"My name is Frank Iero," he told her in a clipped voice, fighting back large amounts of hostility.

The secretary narrowed her eyes at Frank, "So you're the criminal? They should have thrown you in jail, not sent you to murder kids."

"I'm not a fucking murderer," Frank blurted out before he could stop himself.

The secretary's mouth formed an 'o' as she said, "Well then, with a mouth like yours you should be in prison. The door to my right is Ms. Ballato's office, I'm sure she'll be absolutely delighted to meet you."

Frank knew he was off to a great start when he had been in the building for no more than five minutes and someone already hated him.

But the woman sitting at the imposing looking desk in the principal's office carefully applying a vivid red shade of lipstick was fucking hot. She looked a little severe, sure, her hair was pulled back into an impeccable bun and every aspect of her and her office seemed precise, but she was also attractive. Frank hypothesized that she would be one of those girls who would look even hotter when they took their hair down and let loose.

She coughed lightly and Frank realized he was staring at her. So he mumbled out a, "Sorry," and sat in the chair in front of the desk. He felt too much like a little kid in the principal's office and found himself wondering exactly why he was in trouble. And then of course he remembered the actual crime he had committed.

"Mr. Iero, I assume," The woman asked, and Frank nodded. She held out a hand, "I'm Principal Lindsey Ballato, but call me Ms. Ballato."

Frank reached forward to shake her hand, and smirked at her. "How about I call you Lindsey? I wouldn't mind being on first name basis with you."

She immediately withdrew her hand from his grasp. "Mr. Iero, this is an elementary school and I expect you to behave accordingly. Besides that, I am at least ten years your senior, and you are at this school for an improvement purpose."

Frank frowned at her immediate rejection and then realized what she had said. "Wait, Lindsey, you don't look over thirty to me."

"I'm twenty-seven, Mr. Iero," she responded coldly.

"But I'm twenty," Frank responded. "You're not ten years older than me."

"I apologize for my mistake. But, Mr. Iero, you look fucking twelve, you can understand why I'd be confused," Ms. Ballato said, before standing up and handing Frank a file. "Ms. Way's classroom is in Room 93."