My Harlequin Romance (MCR Fan Fiction)

Chapter Seven

Gerard and I sat below the bleachers. He's been reading my letter for about ten minutes now. I watch his eyes as he moves over the paper. Finally, he flips it over and reads the final paragraph. My friend stares at the page for a while, and then runs a hand through his long, long, greasy black hair. 

"Lola," he begins, finding words in the awkward silence, "I don't know what to say... Except... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"Don't be," I say quickly, staring at the dirt, "It's not a big deal. I've had a rough few years, but who cares, right?" 

"Me," Gerard says, looking over at me. I look up from the dirt at him. 

"Why?" I begin, raising an eyebrow as if his affection towards me was disgusting. How could anyone love me? A robot with a shell for a heart. An emotionless little girl who grew up way too fast. "Why me?" 

"Because you're the first person in years who has put any effort in me, my parents included," Gerard bluntly mutters, "I know you don't want pity, Lola, and I'm not pitying you. I want to be your friend but you have got to let me in. I'm glad I took your portrait spot. I'm glad you hate me so much." 

I purse my lips as I think, my body language unreadable. "You really mean that?" I ask, finally looking up at him. Gerard nods, bobbing his black mane. "Well, I don't hate you," I continue, rolling my eyes. How could he think that? 

"Lola, the hating thing....it was a joke. I know you don't hate me," Gerard says, furrowing his brow, clearly pondering my behavior. 

Exactly. I don't get jokes. "Oh," I mutter, feeling awkward again. 

"Do you want to come over again today?" He asks, changing the subject, as he folds his legs, "Maybe you should meet Mikey, so you don't have to hide in my room again." 

I almost blush as I remember a few days ago when I had stolen the little batman figure. It's almost funny, because I remember exactly where I have it right now. A memento of the day Gerard became my friend. 

"Lola? Lola? Lola?"  

Gerard's drolling tore my away from my nostalgic memory. His pale hand pulling on the sleeve of my black military jacket. 

"Stop that," I muttered, pulling away my left arm. I didn't like that he thought he needed to touch me to get my attention. That concerns me. I clear my throat again. "What was your question?" I ask stiffly. 

"Do you want to come over today and meet my brother?" He asks, poking the ground with his finger and then flicking away a few flecks of wet dirt off his finger. 

"Oh," I said, feeling foolish that I had forgotten so suddenly. Something about Gerard makes me feel very foolish. "Yes, I would like that," I replied finally. 

"Awesome!" Gerard nearly exclaims, a large smile breaking on his face. "I just hope Mikey doesn't accidentally fall in love with you." 

"What!? Why would he-" 

A distant ringing bell taking me away from my thoughts. Gerard stood up and I stood beside him. 

"Look, don't worry about it. See you in art," Gerard said with a distant smile as he grabbed his bag and left.

I spent all of sixth hour wondering what he meant. During the chemistry lecture, Gerard never left my mind. I drew him in the corner of the worksheet, and then was humiliated when I realized we had to turn it in 

It's not that I love him. The idea of a relationship makes me vomit a little. He just fascinates me on all levels. Mentally, emotionally, and, why not, physically. But I don't find him attractive. 

After turning in my doodled worksheet, I left the lab for art. When I arrived in class, the iciness of the room blasted me. I tentatively walked in and sat down in my usual seat, looking for the source of the coldness. Mrs. Eight then appeared out of her office. 

"Good afternoon, Lola," she chirped like she had not even noticed the the chilliness. 

I wave simply and then see Gerard. He walked in and then zipped his jacket up to his neck. "Mrs. Eight," he called as he walked in, "Why is it like the Arctic in here?" 

Our art teacher perched up on her little stool. She sighed and folded her legs. "The heater broke on this side of the building," she said and the room began to fill more with art students and collective groaning, "Hey! Hey! Students, please! Think warm thoughts and keep your jackets on and you will survive," she chirped again, waving us to our projects. 

I sigh, and look towards my assembled art stand. My canvas was sitting on the open easel, a colorful portrait of Edgar Allan Poe and William Shakespeare locking arms, gazing back at me. 

Suddenly, I'm aware of a lot of clanging next to me. Gerard is setting up his easel beside me. On his stand is a dark painting of only a silhouette staring into a mirror and seeing nothing. Wordlessly, he sets his stool down beside me and gathers his paints. 

I think we actually painted for a collective ten minutes before a scratchy intercom breaks my concentration. 

"Due to the lack of heating in the northern half of the building, we are closing school until the heating element can be replaced next week." 

An eruption of cheering and frantic stuff gathering occured throughout the school and in a few minutes, Gerard and I were outside the middle school doors, waiting on Mikey. 

A few minutes later, a scraggly fourteen year old with giant glasses came outside towing a huge backpack. I remember when I saw Mikey for the first time, and I had found him to be an obnoxious nuisance. I hope I had been wrong. He looked from Gerard to myself, and then back again like he didn't believe it. 

"Mikey, this is my friend, Lola. Lola, this is my baby brother, Mikey," Gerard said, introducing us rather rigidly. Mikey simply nodded and then proceeded to walk a few feet ahead of us towards his home. Gerard rolled his eyes and motioned for me to follow. We walked in silence for a while, our breath nearly crystallizing in the cold. 

"Why doesn't your brother like me?" I ask, looking at Gerard. 

He sighs, and shoves his hands in his black pockets, pondering for a while. "Because," Gerard began quietly, "He doesn't want you to hurt me." 

Hurt Gerard? I would never. The past few years, I've been lacking in the friend department. It was horrible and now that I've connected with this guy, I want to be around him all the time. Never would I ever imagine hurting him, and the fact Mikey would consider that hurts me. 

"Well, Lola, he'll warm up to you eventually, I'm sure," Gerard muttered as we turned towards his home, "Just stay around me for a while, okay?"