And You Don't Know A Thing About This Life

Frank's POV

I watch the clock tick effortlessly by, wishing that it would slow down a bit. I didn't want school to end, or better said, I don't want to go home. Home is a house, and inside a house are people, and one of those people happens to be him. The last thing I want to see is his eyes, piercing into mine like bullets.

The art teacher continues to lag in his desk, his feet resting upon the school's computer, some nerve he has. Raven black hair fell only a centimeter down his ears, which were tucked neatly behind them. Hazel eyes with golden and green specks scattered around his pupil, which were partly concealed by strands of hair invading his vision. He whistled without a care in the world, and smiled.

"Hey guys," Mr. Way began, running fingers through his hair. "Hate to be your party poison, but the bell's about to ring. Clean up fast, and I'll let you out early."

For a moment, I thought about going home again. Sure, I would have to face the people of my house with a smile, but there was something else. I wasn't planning on doing it on a school day, I was planning on doing it in the summertime, where no one would feel it as much. Still, I could do it. And I don't need to say goodbye, because no one would miss me anyways.

I took out a sharpie from my red pencil bag and pulled out a new guitar strap, white and innocent. I started to draw designs, most of which from bands and such. Suddenly, the teacher had called my name loudly. "Frank Iero, can I see you after the bell?"

"Um, sure." And I don't know why I didn't say 'no' or 'I can't', but I know I should have.

The bell rang, and I watched as the students swarmed out of the school like a flood. I stood calmly by the teacher's desk as he motioned for me to grab a chair. "Take a seat."

"Did I do anything wrong?"

"Do you like art, Frank?" he questioned, raising a brow.

"Well, I'm in the class, aren't I?"

"True, true." he paused, and stroked a finger across his chin. "Suppose you enjoy music as well?"

"What are you going at, Mr. Way?"

"Let's get a coffee," he suggested. "You are the only person in this class serious about the arts."

I guess I could postpone my plans. "Okay, why not?"

"I'll contact your parents...parent." He scrolled down a list and got to my mother's phone, dialing her number and making up a thick excuse.

"Uh huh. Yes. No, he's not in trouble. Yes. Of course. Thank you. Bye." Mr. Way turned to me with a smile.

"Let's go."

Notes

meh first teacher fic c: