Serve it in Drag

It's lunch already and as I walk down the hall, I hear what must be the fiftieth wolf whistle of the day. I keep my head down on my walk to the cafeteria, maneuvering myself through the mass of teens surrounding me. Skipping the line, I make my way over to the corner table where Mikey is already sitting with Ray and Bob. It's vacant except for them, but that's the norm considering the whole school thinks us to be "Emo Fags". I reach around and dig in my backpack for the apple I had brought with me from home. Taking a bite, I chew absentmindedly as I sit beside Mikey, leaning my head against his bony shoulder.
"Hey Mikes." I say to him.

"Hey you." He replies.

Turning to greet Ray and Bob, I stop chewing my bite of apple. I greet them with a smile, but my smile turns into a confused frown as I stare at the look of shock on their faces. Forcing myself to swallow the bite of half chewed apple, I clear my throat loudly and touch my face with my hand.

"Uh, is there something on my face?" I ask. Waving a hand in front of their unblinking eyes, I continue trying to get their attention. "Earth to Ray! Bob! Hello! Is anybody in there?" I ask.

"I swear for being his best friend for years you guys are idiots for not being able to tell it's him," Mikey states with annoyance and amusement lacing his voice.

They seem to snap out of their daze and look at him with furrowed eyebrows. Ray speaks first, "What do you mean him?"

Mikey just rolls his eyes and gets up to throw out his trash. He returns to the table to get his book bag and walks out the double doors to the courtyard. We get the point and silently follow him out. We walk in silence to the tree that Mikey is sitting under, Ray and Bob sneaking glances at me the whole time. I can't help but to smile and feel a bit of pride that I was really able to pull off being a girl so well that not even my best friends could recognize me. We take our spots, forming a crude circle, and Mikey finishes playing with his phone, pocketing it. He looks at the guys who are still looking at him and I with skepticism.

"It's Gerard, you idiots!" He whisper yells just in case someone was walking by. Their heads snap around to look at me, taking in my appearance. Their eyes rake up and down my body. I feel my cheeks grow hot at their penetrative stares and avert my eyes upwards trying to ignore them.

"Umm..can you guys just stop please? It's me," I say.

Ray continues to stare, but I see a glint of mischief cross Bob's eyes as I speak. He scoots closer, within five inches of me. He keeps looking at me and taking deep breaths of air.

"Back the fuck up! I'm not that fucking pretty to look at!" I exclaim.

He starts to crack up with laughter and says, "It is you! Only Gerard gets fucking nervous like that when people get too close to him!"

I roll my eyes, annoyed at him, and look at Ray. I smile at him and he timidly smiles back at me but doesn't meet my eyes. Is he embarrassed by me? Does looking like this make him not want to be my friend? 'Cause if there is one thing about Ray Toro it's that he's all about making eye contact. He always says "It's the best way to really show someone you care." Trying not to let it get to me, I reinsert myself into Bob and Mikey's conversation about why I'm doing this. By the time Mikey finishes, the bell rings telling us to go back inside and to resume our place in hell. We get up and gather our things, going our seperate ways. I wave to them and all of them wave back except for Ray, who is walking away as fast as possible. Not thinking about it too much, I ignore it and continue my walk to my history class. It passes by uneventfully; Mr. Freeman's voice rocking a few kids to sleep during his hour long lecture. When it's over, we exit the classroom and head to our next lesson. I look at my schedule and see that I have physical education next.

"Well this is gonna be interesting," I whisper under my breath.

I walk as slow as I possibly can to the locker room. I drag my feet hoping that most of the girls will be out before I get there. I'm gay, although that doesn't mean I'm unfazed by being around all those naked girls. It's kinda gross thinking that a stray boob might come into contact with my hand or something while I'm dressing. I get to the door and open it slowly, listening for any voices. Hearing none, I rush to an empty locker and put my stuff inside. I feel around in my bag for my gym clothes, but realize that I forgot to go back to my locker for them.

"Fuck!" I say.

I slam the door closed and rush out of there, making it to the bleachers just as the bell inside the gymnasium goes off. I seat myself in the first row and look around the room at everyone else. Some are in their regular clothes like me, but most came prepared with their change of outfits. Three coaches come out and start seperating the students into our appropriate instructor's groups. I cross my fingers hoping I don't get Mr. M, 'cause he has a reputation of being one of the toughest gym teachers in the school. One by one the teachers call the students to their side of the room. I hear Mr. M's voice boom across the gymnasium as he calls,

"Gwen Way!"

I groan and go to stand in the group of kids behind Mr. M. Out of the thirty-five of us only eight came without their gym clothes; myself included. After taking roll, he singles us out and makes us run laps outside on the football field under the hot afternoon sun. About twenty of us from the different groups combined walk out side and begin our run. I don't mind walking laps, but in a skirt and heels running is out of the question. Mr. M stands at the door watching us for a few moments and then goes back inside, promising surprise check ups on us. Once he's gone, I stop my weird jog/power walk thing I was trying to pull off and walk the rest of the lap. I constantly crane my neck to look at the gymnasium doors.

"You should stop turning your head so much like that. You're gonna give yourself whiplash at that rate,"

I hear a voice behind me say. Turning myself around, I see a girl(or guy?), walking behind me with a parasol in hand. She has a delicate face with soft brown eyes and light brown hair to match. Her eyes being more pronounced with the ring of dark eyeliner surrounding her eyes. She has an easy smile, her kind free soul just radiating through it. Tight white washed jeans hug her hips and a flowy, flowery blouse with lace around the edges completing that 'flower child' look. I stop walking and let her catch up to me. As she nears, I can't help but smile back. She smiles wider and reaches out her hand to shake mine.

"Hi! My name is Ryan. What's yours?" She asks.

So she's...a he? He's a bit on the feminine side, but then again who am I to talk? I do have to hand it to him though, he pulls it off very well with what seems to be very little effort. I zero back into reality as I exit my thoughts.

"Hey! I'm Gwen Way, I just transfered here. I like your parasol!" Did I seriously just say I liked his parasol? How much more awkward can I get? Come on Gerard! You're supposed to be Gwen, a girl. Compliment him on his clothes or something, not his fucking parasol! Despite me beating myself up over the stupid compliment, Ryan accepts it graciously.

"Thanks, my boyfriend actually got it for me. He's always worried about me getting sun burnt during gym class and he thinks sun block just won't do the job of protecting my delicate skin. I told him a regular umbrella would be fine but he thought this suited me better, and it's much lighter too. Easier to manage you know?"

He somehow says all that in one breath and bounces on his heels as he finishes speaking. I just nod back at him and try to mirror his radiant smile. Out of the corner of my eye I see the gymnasium door swing open and Mr. M marching towards the field. I immediately try to start running, but Ryan just grabs onto my wrist and has me join him under the parasol as he continues the lap as if it were a nice afternoon stroll.

"Ryan, he's coming this way! We're gonna get into even bigger trouble!" I yell as quietly as I can at him. He gives a light little giggle and links our arms together. I feel myself starting to freak out at how we might be punished when Mr. M finally catches sight of us. He's only about thirty feet from us and yelling at the kids who were caught walking. He says that he's gonna make them run this whole week and give them each an hour of after school detention. I look down at Ryan but he seems to be unfazed by this as we get nearer to him. We get within two feet of him and Ryan waggles his fingers at Mr. M. The latter gives a head nod and a slight smirk back. We continue past him and I crane my neck to look back at him as he continues to yell at the rest of the students.

"What did I tell you about turning your neck like that?" Ryan jokingly asks. I chuckle at him, and for the rest of the class I listen to his rambling as we walk arm in arm.

When Mr. M blows the whistle, we march back inside to gather our things. I get my bag from one of the lockers while Ryan waits outside for me. When I get back outside, I see Mr. M walking away, waving bye in Ryan's direction. Ryan is waving too and stops when he sees me.

"Oh, hey you! You surprised me. So just to let you know, you can walk with me during gym." He says nonchalantly.

"Thank you? But I thought we were only made to run/walk as punishment for not wearing our gym clothes? And personally I'd rather not get in trouble everyday." I tell him without trying to seem rude or stuck up. He looks up at me and just giggles as if laughing at a child.

"Silly, do you really think I would be telling you this if we were gonna get punished? Anyway I'm kind of allowed to walk everyday instead of participate in that cess pool of sweat and teenage hormones. But don't worry, as long as you're with me you'll be fine."

I nod at him and internally do a dance of joy. We both have music class next so we arrive together. The class is not yet full when we get there so we decide to get seats towards the back of the room. Mr. Dewees gives us a two fingered salute as he continues to bop his head to the beat of the music he was listening to through his headphones.

When the bell rings, he remains seated listening to his music. This is the usual with Mr. Dewees, most of the time one of us have to physically get up and tell him it's time to start class. I was ready to get up when in struts Frank. He pulls an earphone out of Mr. Dewees' ear and taps his wrist in a "look at the time" gesture. Mr. Dewees quickly gets out of his seat and begins introducing himself. Frank starts getting nearer as he tries to find a seat. I look down and turn my head towards Ryan trying to hide myself in plain sight. Luckily he sits across the room in a set of empty chairs.

Ryan is surprisingly quiet during our music class, paying rapt attention as if every sentence Mr. Dewees said was vital information. As the bell rings, I get my things and try to get out of there quickly. Sadly, my clumsiness decides to kick in and I drop a few sheet music stands in the process, sending the papers scattering everywhere. Dropping to my knees, I start gathering all the paper up in my arms as everyone files out. I'm the last one there when I finally finish. I hand the messy pile of papers to Mr. Dewees with a dozen apologies to accompany them, and he just waves me off, telling me to get to class.

I'm running down the hallway and rounding the corner into the next hall when I nearly crash into Frank who's casually leaning against the wall. I stop just in time with the help of his hands on my shoulders. I can feel the blood in my cheeks grow hotter as I say sorry to him as well.

"I'm so, so, so sorry! I made a mess and now I'm late and the Calc. teacher can be a real pa-"

"You have nothing to be sorry about beautiful," he says with a low voice "It was an accident. Now you said you have calculus next?"

"Yeah I do actually, with Mrs. Rhinehart." I answer nervously, still fearing that he somehow might see who I really am.

"Cool me too. So how about it beautiful? Will you let me walk you to class?"

Internally I want to tell him to fuck off, because hello! Wouldn't it be awesome to see his ass all hurt 'cause a girl turned him down for once? Well me... I'm not a girl, but you get my drift. Fighting against my urges, I accept and walk with him the rest of the way to calculus. When we get there we sit together, him pulling out my chair for me to sit in. I ignore him as I try to solve the math questions on the worksheet on the desk.

After 20 minutes, I only have ten questions answered out of the thirty and I can feel Frank staring at me curiously as I erase yet another wrong answer.

"Can you please stop looking at me?" I ask.

"I'm sorry beautiful. Am I making you uncomfortable?" He says slyly inching himself closer to me.

"Yes actually you are, so if you could stop that would be really great."

He puts his hands up in surrender and backs a bit away from me.

"Okay, okay but just so you know I don't mind helping you out with that if you're not getting it. I'm kind of a whiz at math."

I snort at him calling himself a "whiz" and he begins to blush. "I only meant that I'm okay at this so you know... I can help you if you're struggling?"

He phrased it as question but you can clearly tell he really wants to help me out. Again, I want to refuse him, but I have to remember that this is all about payback. And what a better way of getting close to him than practically making him my own personal tutor.

"That would be great Frankie!" I say.

His blush becomes more intense when I say Frankie instead of Frank, and brightens even more when I scoot my chair closer to him till our thighs are touching. He grabs my pencil and begins to explain one of the equations on a new sheet of paper.

I try and follow everything he's saying, but I can't help but to look at him and think how soon I'll have him wrapped around my little finger.

Notes

Thanks for your patience and thank you to my lovely beta Pant Wearer! Love you all!

-Venomous Kiss