My Harlequin Romance (MCR Fan Fiction)

Chapter Eleven

The following morning, I was so excited for school, I couldn't bear it. How exactly Gerard and I were going to go about this, I was so unsure. Wear matching tee-shirts maybe? I really don't know, and I knew he didn't either. Maybe that was the most fun part of it all; not knowing was great. That, however, was uncharacteristic of me. Two months ago, not knowing something would have driven me crazy, but this man is changing me.

Gerard is changing me.

I know it's for the better.

So, there we were standing a few feet from the doorway, both of us rigidly wondering what on earth we're supposed to do. I shot a sideways glance at my friend, who's face was paler then normal.

"This is a non-judgemental atmosphere," I warn, stepping in front of Gerard so I was certain I had his full attention, "If one of us is awkward, then the other one covers them up. We don't joke about our relationship. We are not friends anymore. You are my boyfriend, and as far as our classmates are concerned, I am in love with Gerard Way. Do you understand?"

Gerard nodded his dark head importantly. For just a second, I glanced over his appearance. My friend had slicked back his greasy hair, and even I would admit it that it did look pretty sharp. He had on a black hoodie over a worn and torn Smashing Pumpkins band shirt. Just above the tee-shirt was a bat belt buckle over his black jeans which are tight anyway, so why he needed a belt was beyond me. I could tell that he was, fortunately, understanding. "And I am in love with Lola Emerson," He replied, his face completely blank of any disconcerting detail that might give us away.

Now that I actually thought about it, we looked too much the same. I, myself, had on a black sweater a top an old pair of paint smudged black jeans too. My own mildly gross blue hair was swept backwards over my shoulders, much like Gerard's. Oh God. Now, our relationship is creepy because it's like our brains are connected. Gerard must have seen my uncertainty. and he slid his hand into mind, locking his fingers around my own slender ones. All of the nervousness I had faded away. This would work. I looked up at Gerard and met his gaze. If I had to have a fake romance with somebody, I'm glad that it's him. Both of us did a silent prayer even though I know he and I both don't believe in any sort of God at all and walked through the sullen double doors.

The hallways were filled with a combination of jocks, cheerleaders, preppy people, and snobs. They all waltzed with a sort of pride that was found in only the families with the longest of poles shoved up their bottoms. On any normal day, I would walk on the edge of the hallway, far from the balant glares of the people who could have been my friends.

This is not a normal day.

Gerard tightened his grip on my hand as we passed the football players, their eyes on us. The talking had nearly vanished. One of the guys, who was carrying a large helmet parted away from the group and stood ahead of us. He had bright blond, spiky hair and blue eyes that reminded me of my hair when it's clean. Gerard's sudden tenseness gave it away; this was the guy who had thrown him around yesterday.

"Who's this, Gee-tard?" The jock drawled, looking me over. Gee-tard. So that's what they call him. I could feel my anger and disgust rise in my throat. "Your cousin?"

The surrounding athletes laughed with the main guy, edging closer. I noticed that the inches they advanced, the closer Gerard got to me. The whole hallway was close to bursting. The laughing and sneers of the jocks was like a nail on a chalkboard. I was suffocating and my heart was racing, but this was not my time to speak. That would come. For now, it is Gerard's time to take a stand and show them all.

"No," Gerard said, rather blankly. The jocks stopped laughing, surprised to hear words from the 'creepy goth kid'. "No. She's my girlfriend, and if you mess with her, there will be hell to pay. Do you douche-bags understand?" He demanded. Gerard's eyes flashed both honesty and brutality; he meant what he was was saying. The main guy carrying the helmet glanced at us one more time, tilted his head slightly, and then moved his whole body away towards his group, opening the hallway again allowing us to pass. And pass we did.