Nobodies
chapter 2
The weekend ends all too quickly. Granted, I spend most of it sleeping, so why the fuck wouldn’t it? All I know is that on Monday, I really don’t want to go to fucking school. I have 99 problems, and 97 of them are Frank Iero.
I show up to school, and right away I have to piss, which is perfect, seeing as Frank recently told me that bathrooms are one of the worst places for me to be. I go anyways, cause I feel like I’m about to piss myself.
I’m halfway through peeing when Frank walks in, strutting over. He picks me up by the back to my Lord of the Rings boxers and presses me against the back of the urinal, which, is not only disgusting and painful, but also gets piss all over the front of my jeans. He releases me, whooping,
“Cute undies, geek!”
“Shut up, Frodo Baggins,” I growl.
Frank grabs me by the back of my hair, spitting, “What was that, dyke?”
“I said, you’re right,” I lie.
“Damn right!” Frank shouts. He slams my head against the wall, making it throb like Hell. “I’ll be seeing you soon, little girl!”
I get to the art room, to see a new kid sitting there. It’s a girl, and she has these great big puppy brown eyes and black hair pulled into a high ponytail. My dick gives a happy leap, and I check to see that I don’t have a boner before sitting next to her. I silently pass her, getting out my paints and everything I need. I get four different kinds of brushes, five paints, and a paper plate for mixing colors.
The girl cocks her head at me, pointing at all of my supplies. “What do you need all these for?”
I sigh, ready for her to make fun of me. “I’m painting Batman, so I need lots of different shades of paint.”
She nods, replying, “That’s cool.” She picks up the smallest brush, which only has about four or five hairs on it, hardly enough to even qualify as a brush. “What’s this little guy for?”
I take it from her hands, setting it back down in line with the others. “Different brushes perform different tasks.”
“You know, you’re kind of high strung,” she deducts.
“High strung?” I repeat, a little offended.
She nods. “Just go like this. Take a deep breath, and then shake your arms!”
“No thanks,” I scoff.
“See? You’re uptight!” she squeaks, elbowing me.
“Well I have a reason to be, don’t I?” I mutter.
She grazes her fingertips against one of the bruises along my jawline, and I flinch away. It’s become an automatic response of mine, cringing whenever someone touches any of my injuries, the ones made by Frank, and the ones I’ve inflicted upon myself. “What happened there?”
“None of your business happened, that’s what,” I scowl.
“Rawr!” she jokes. “I like you. You’re weird.”
“Gee, thanks,” I mumble.
“No, really,” she insists. She touches my arm lightly. “People like you are hard to come by.”
I finally smile, and ask, “What’s your name?”
She beams, seemingly happy that I’m taking an interest in her as well. “My name’s Jamia, and I’m a freshman. Yourself?”
“I’m a sophomore, and my name’s Gerard,” I respond.
“Ooh, I like your name,” she compliments. She begins to doodle aimlessly in her notebook. Most girls would draw their names in swoopy letters, or the names of their paramour. Jamia instead draws a werewolf.
“Thanks,” I breathe, settling into my chair and starting painting. Jamia and I chat throughout the period, since our art teacher happens to be awesome and lets us talk to our content as long as we work while doing it.
By the end of the period, we’ve exchanged phone numbers with the promise to text each other tonight. Jamia smacks me on the butt as she walks out, and laughs as she watches me turn bright red.
“Don’t worry, I do that to everyone,” she tells.
“Great,” I respond sarcastically.
I’m in the lunch room, sitting by myself, as usual, when Frank walks over. So, he’s going to settle for emotional torment, since all of the teachers standing around won’t let him lay a finger on me.
“Hey, dyke. Hook up with any hot girls?” he smirks.
I consider giving Jamia’s name, but don’t, in fear that he will continue to call me a girl. Not only that, but it’d be a little bit of an insult to her. She’s way more than a hot girl. “N-no.”
“I have wrestling practice after school,” Frank informs. He raps his knuckles on the table as he continues, “So, sadly, I won’t be able to join you this weekend on your daily trudge home.”
How ironic. Frank’s out for wrestling. Not only does he beat the shit out of me, but he does it to other kids as a fucking sport. He has done wrestling moves on me before, just the other week he had me in a full nelson. Not only that, but when he did it, I could feel his dick pressing into my ass through his tight skinny jeans and…. And I kind of liked it.
Jamia sets her tray down across from me, sitting down as “who’s your friend?”
“oh my God, you’ve tricked this poor, deluded girl into not only hanging out with you, but also into believing you could have a friend?!” Frank guffaws. “How’d you swing that? Did you seduce her with that 3 inch lap hog of yours?”
Hey, yesterday he said 2 inches when referring ot my dick. According to him, it’s an inch bigger. That’s process! I still redden, though.
“What is your problem, short stack?” Jamia demands.
Frank holds his hands up. “I have the opposite of a problem. I’m just making sure you know what you’re getting into in hanging out with queer bait over here.”
“I know exactly what I’m getting into, thank you very much,” Jamia growls.
“I don’t think you do,” Frank responds. He smiles, and then shoves me around so my back’s to him. He holds me in place with one arm as he pulls up my LOTR boxers with the others. He releases me after a few seconds, and I try to tuck my underwear back into my jeans as he tells Jamia, “See, the dork’s got Star Wars undies.”
“It’s actually Lord of the Rings,” I grumble.
Frank turns to me, barking, “You think I give two shits, fag?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure of learning your name, midget,” Jamia snarls.
“It’s actually Frank, but you can call me whatever you want,” Frank allows.
“I’m Jamia. Now, Frank do me a favor and leave me with my associate Gerard here for a moment, if you would,” Jamia hisses.
“My pleasure,” Frank replies, standing. He pulls me into a headlock, grinding his knuckles into my skull. He then pushes me away, cursing, “Bye dyke.”
Jamia’s jaw drops. “Did that little shit just call me a dyke?”
I shake my head. “I’m the dyke.
Jamia questions, “What’s that kid’s problem?”
I shrug. “He’s picked on me since 8th grade.”
“Why? He wouldn’t do that for no reason,” Jamia persists.
“I have no idea,” I answer honestly.
Jamia gasps, and again runs her fingernails against my battered jawline. “Oh my God! Did he do this?”
I nod, and she clasps a hand over her mouth. She hugs me tightly, rubbing my back, between my shoulder blades.
“By the way, um, thanks for being cool when he…. You know….” I bow my head and mumble. “Showed you my underwear and all.”
Jamia chuckles slowly, blushing slightly as she tells, “I actually thought they were kind of cute.”
I duck my head again because I know I must be scarlet. Jamia slides closer to me, placing a hand on my tense thigh as she purrs into my ear,
“I think you’re pretty cute.”
She nips softly at my earlobe. I squirm away, sputtering,
“Fuck I’m sorry, I really am. I can’t do it.”
“Why not?” Jamia pouts. ‘We could find somewhere more private if that’s what’s bothering you…”
“That’s not it at all,” I continue. “Jamia…. I’m….. I’m gay,” I confess.
Jamia turns red as a tomato as she repeatedly apologizes.
“It’s okay; you didn’t know,” I excuse.
Jamia’s quiet for a while, and then she nudges me. “So? Do you like anyone?”
I feel myself get pink as I lie, “N-no. Of course not.”
“Oh, you do!” Jamia squeals. “So? Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Shut up!” I exclaim. ‘No one, okay?”
Jamia just smiles this dumb grin. “You love someone.”
I can’t say she’s wrong again, because she’s absolutely right. I love Frank Iero.
I show up to school, and right away I have to piss, which is perfect, seeing as Frank recently told me that bathrooms are one of the worst places for me to be. I go anyways, cause I feel like I’m about to piss myself.
I’m halfway through peeing when Frank walks in, strutting over. He picks me up by the back to my Lord of the Rings boxers and presses me against the back of the urinal, which, is not only disgusting and painful, but also gets piss all over the front of my jeans. He releases me, whooping,
“Cute undies, geek!”
“Shut up, Frodo Baggins,” I growl.
Frank grabs me by the back of my hair, spitting, “What was that, dyke?”
“I said, you’re right,” I lie.
“Damn right!” Frank shouts. He slams my head against the wall, making it throb like Hell. “I’ll be seeing you soon, little girl!”
I get to the art room, to see a new kid sitting there. It’s a girl, and she has these great big puppy brown eyes and black hair pulled into a high ponytail. My dick gives a happy leap, and I check to see that I don’t have a boner before sitting next to her. I silently pass her, getting out my paints and everything I need. I get four different kinds of brushes, five paints, and a paper plate for mixing colors.
The girl cocks her head at me, pointing at all of my supplies. “What do you need all these for?”
I sigh, ready for her to make fun of me. “I’m painting Batman, so I need lots of different shades of paint.”
She nods, replying, “That’s cool.” She picks up the smallest brush, which only has about four or five hairs on it, hardly enough to even qualify as a brush. “What’s this little guy for?”
I take it from her hands, setting it back down in line with the others. “Different brushes perform different tasks.”
“You know, you’re kind of high strung,” she deducts.
“High strung?” I repeat, a little offended.
She nods. “Just go like this. Take a deep breath, and then shake your arms!”
“No thanks,” I scoff.
“See? You’re uptight!” she squeaks, elbowing me.
“Well I have a reason to be, don’t I?” I mutter.
She grazes her fingertips against one of the bruises along my jawline, and I flinch away. It’s become an automatic response of mine, cringing whenever someone touches any of my injuries, the ones made by Frank, and the ones I’ve inflicted upon myself. “What happened there?”
“None of your business happened, that’s what,” I scowl.
“Rawr!” she jokes. “I like you. You’re weird.”
“Gee, thanks,” I mumble.
“No, really,” she insists. She touches my arm lightly. “People like you are hard to come by.”
I finally smile, and ask, “What’s your name?”
She beams, seemingly happy that I’m taking an interest in her as well. “My name’s Jamia, and I’m a freshman. Yourself?”
“I’m a sophomore, and my name’s Gerard,” I respond.
“Ooh, I like your name,” she compliments. She begins to doodle aimlessly in her notebook. Most girls would draw their names in swoopy letters, or the names of their paramour. Jamia instead draws a werewolf.
“Thanks,” I breathe, settling into my chair and starting painting. Jamia and I chat throughout the period, since our art teacher happens to be awesome and lets us talk to our content as long as we work while doing it.
By the end of the period, we’ve exchanged phone numbers with the promise to text each other tonight. Jamia smacks me on the butt as she walks out, and laughs as she watches me turn bright red.
“Don’t worry, I do that to everyone,” she tells.
“Great,” I respond sarcastically.
I’m in the lunch room, sitting by myself, as usual, when Frank walks over. So, he’s going to settle for emotional torment, since all of the teachers standing around won’t let him lay a finger on me.
“Hey, dyke. Hook up with any hot girls?” he smirks.
I consider giving Jamia’s name, but don’t, in fear that he will continue to call me a girl. Not only that, but it’d be a little bit of an insult to her. She’s way more than a hot girl. “N-no.”
“I have wrestling practice after school,” Frank informs. He raps his knuckles on the table as he continues, “So, sadly, I won’t be able to join you this weekend on your daily trudge home.”
How ironic. Frank’s out for wrestling. Not only does he beat the shit out of me, but he does it to other kids as a fucking sport. He has done wrestling moves on me before, just the other week he had me in a full nelson. Not only that, but when he did it, I could feel his dick pressing into my ass through his tight skinny jeans and…. And I kind of liked it.
Jamia sets her tray down across from me, sitting down as “who’s your friend?”
“oh my God, you’ve tricked this poor, deluded girl into not only hanging out with you, but also into believing you could have a friend?!” Frank guffaws. “How’d you swing that? Did you seduce her with that 3 inch lap hog of yours?”
Hey, yesterday he said 2 inches when referring ot my dick. According to him, it’s an inch bigger. That’s process! I still redden, though.
“What is your problem, short stack?” Jamia demands.
Frank holds his hands up. “I have the opposite of a problem. I’m just making sure you know what you’re getting into in hanging out with queer bait over here.”
“I know exactly what I’m getting into, thank you very much,” Jamia growls.
“I don’t think you do,” Frank responds. He smiles, and then shoves me around so my back’s to him. He holds me in place with one arm as he pulls up my LOTR boxers with the others. He releases me after a few seconds, and I try to tuck my underwear back into my jeans as he tells Jamia, “See, the dork’s got Star Wars undies.”
“It’s actually Lord of the Rings,” I grumble.
Frank turns to me, barking, “You think I give two shits, fag?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure of learning your name, midget,” Jamia snarls.
“It’s actually Frank, but you can call me whatever you want,” Frank allows.
“I’m Jamia. Now, Frank do me a favor and leave me with my associate Gerard here for a moment, if you would,” Jamia hisses.
“My pleasure,” Frank replies, standing. He pulls me into a headlock, grinding his knuckles into my skull. He then pushes me away, cursing, “Bye dyke.”
Jamia’s jaw drops. “Did that little shit just call me a dyke?”
I shake my head. “I’m the dyke.
Jamia questions, “What’s that kid’s problem?”
I shrug. “He’s picked on me since 8th grade.”
“Why? He wouldn’t do that for no reason,” Jamia persists.
“I have no idea,” I answer honestly.
Jamia gasps, and again runs her fingernails against my battered jawline. “Oh my God! Did he do this?”
I nod, and she clasps a hand over her mouth. She hugs me tightly, rubbing my back, between my shoulder blades.
“By the way, um, thanks for being cool when he…. You know….” I bow my head and mumble. “Showed you my underwear and all.”
Jamia chuckles slowly, blushing slightly as she tells, “I actually thought they were kind of cute.”
I duck my head again because I know I must be scarlet. Jamia slides closer to me, placing a hand on my tense thigh as she purrs into my ear,
“I think you’re pretty cute.”
She nips softly at my earlobe. I squirm away, sputtering,
“Fuck I’m sorry, I really am. I can’t do it.”
“Why not?” Jamia pouts. ‘We could find somewhere more private if that’s what’s bothering you…”
“That’s not it at all,” I continue. “Jamia…. I’m….. I’m gay,” I confess.
Jamia turns red as a tomato as she repeatedly apologizes.
“It’s okay; you didn’t know,” I excuse.
Jamia’s quiet for a while, and then she nudges me. “So? Do you like anyone?”
I feel myself get pink as I lie, “N-no. Of course not.”
“Oh, you do!” Jamia squeals. “So? Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Shut up!” I exclaim. ‘No one, okay?”
Jamia just smiles this dumb grin. “You love someone.”
I can’t say she’s wrong again, because she’s absolutely right. I love Frank Iero.
Notes
thank you so much for reading! Please comment, and check out my other fics! New chapter should be up soon!Anonymous or non anonymous prompts or questions can be sent here: www.frerard-is-the-weapon.tumblr.com/ask
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I sure did, and I love that song too!
6/23/14