Gloves

The boy never gave his name before he pushed past Frank and into the school, black hair still damp and a glare to end the world set on his face.
Frank watched silently, amber eyes set on the retreating back. The boy quickly disappeared around a corner, which was quickly overtaken by a wave of teenage delinquents and wrong-doers. He sighed and started out of the locker room, slowly making his way to his locker and then the spot he and his friends had declared their hangout: under the tree in the back courtyard.
He spotted Bob there first with blown pupils (as per usual) and a lazy grin on his face. Frank let himself fall next to Bob, eyeing him warily in a more or less joking manner.
"Why're you so smiley on this fine morning?" wondered the short boy as he picked up a bottle of water, dropped it, grabbed it again, and leaned against the tree casually, as if nothing had happened.
The stoner laughed that silly pot laugh. "Ray has a man crush," he drawled, taking the bottle from Frank and downing it in a few hearty gulps. Frank huffed and crossed his arms.
"Like a gay crush or--"
"Aww, no man, that's just you." Bob paused for a moment before nodding. "Here they come; prepare to vomit, my friend," he warned.
Frank peered in the same direction just in time to catch Ray and the skinny kid he had been talking to for a while but had never introduced to the others come out of the green double-doors. He saw the complete disregard for his friends as a bit of a dick move on Ray's part, but now that he saw how absolutely enthused the 'fro-ed boy was, he was willing to let it slide.
Ray sat across from his friends, grinning at them in greeting. "Hey guys, sorry we're late; I was helping Mikey," he gestured to the scrawny boy in glasses, "find his brother."
"It's a very common occurence," said Mikey, pushing up his glasses. "He has a knack for just disappearing." He wiggled his fingers for emphasis.
Frank frowned and decided to put his sorry detective skills to work. "Is he the guy with the black hair and gloves?" he asked, leaning towards Mikey in an almost conspiratorial way.
The lanky boy seemed disturbed by the knowledge. "Yeah, that's Gerard. How do you know him?"
Gerard. I need to remember that. "I found him in the locker room this morning, covered in blue Gatorade."
The apparent brother snapped his fingers jokingly. "Again? Damnit Gerard. I told him to lay off the sports drinks."
Frank leaned back against the tree again. "He didn't seem all that friendly," he stated, raising an eyebrow.
This gained a sigh. "No, he's not all that friendly. He has good, personal reasons not to be, but I wish he would just try." He leaned on his hands with a small scowl on his face, but it morphed into a smirk after a moment of deliberation. "But, if you do manage to get under his skin, you'd like him; he's a good kid under that rocky exterior."
Bob made a wet, sticky sound with his mouth. "I know who you're talking 'bout! He's the one who, like, never takes off those gloves! Man, he's gotten himself into some deep shit with those things." He shook the sandy blonde hair on his head.
Mikey had a far-off look in his eye as Bob spoke, nodding his head slowly along. "I think he's mentioned something about you-- all of you, actually. Yeah, the stoner in history, the guy with the big hair in algebra, and the short kid in art. He actually has some pictures of you in his sketchbook, I think. Says you have a nice bone structure," Mikey mused, rubbing the would-be hairs on his chin.
"I don't know whether to be flattered or horrified," Frank muttered, scratching the side of his head awkwardly.
Mikey looked to Ray, Bob, and back to Frank for a moment before nodding. "Definitely flattered. He doesn't say just anyone has a nice bone structure. But if it makes you feel any better, he's drawn all of you, just decided Frank has the nicest face."
"Still really weird."
"There is no justifying it, is there?"
"Not really."
"Eh, I'll let Gerard decide whether it's worth it or not."
"...by the way, I'm Frank."

Notes

Oh Gerard, you creepy fucker, you...
Oh look, no vomit.
Anyways, I'm typing this thing up at 12:11 am, so sorry for mistakes, although I don't think I made any. Wow, do I sound cocky. I'm going to bed before I say anything stupid. Thanks to you loyal readers yet again.
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-Stitches