25 Reasons Why I Hate You

It isn’t his fault, no. Gerard has been trying to make himself believe that for the past 15 minutes. But he still feels guilty as fuck when Frank’s glare starts ripping through the back of his hoodie. The Misfits one, the one that reminds him of the one Frank wore all the time when they were kids. It’s really frustrating, the fact that one look at Frank can make his stomach boil just like it could all those years ago. It’s freaky, too. Frank has changed, though, quite a bit. Now he keeps his hair cut short, unlike the almost-bob he had in middle school. Teenager Frank has some messy mohawk-which-isn’t-an-actual-mohawk going on, and it looks amazing. He’s also never really grown tall, which is adorable the same amount it’s funny as fuck. But yeah, he’s really cute, hot as hell, too, if you ask Gerard. Frank looks awesome, the only thing that isn’t awesome is the fact he hates Gerard’s guts.

Gerard never meant to be a bitch to him but it’s carved into Gerard’s nature to constantly fuck shit up. That’s, like, the only thing high school has ever taught him. It was horrible in Seattle, he hated it there and it’s quite convenient his mom got a job in Belleville. But that means he got to get back here, and reopen old wounds which were scarring for a fuckload of time. Now he has to deal with his seventh grade enemies [featuring his seventh grade crushes] and generally try to live his ‘old’ life again. Mikey’s really happy they came back, even though he doesn’t really remember shit he went through here because he was, like, 10 when they moved away. Gerard knows how fucked up everything is, because, well, nothing changed. Everything’s the same, everyone’s the same. He glances around the class, familiar faces immediately popping out of the unfamiliar crowd; being followed by their younger replicas inside Gerard’s head.

There’s the preppy girl with the stoned smile, what’s her name, wait? Jane? Jamie? No, it’s Jamia, right, Jamia.
Right next to her there’s that really pretty girl whose face he can’t really put anywhere, but he knows she’s been here since forever. Then she realizes he’s looking at her and she gives him a wide smile and a wink, and he mentally slaps himself. Lindsey fuckin’ Ballato, how could he forget? The girl who used to make everyone call her ‘Lyn-Z’ in middle school. He returns her smile gladly, realizing there is at least one person whose forgiveness he won’t have to beg for.

Well, truth to be told, there’s actually only one person whose forgiveness he will indeed have to beg for. And that person was now sitting at the back, earphones plugged inside his head and eyes down on his lap as soon as Gerard turns around to look at him. At least his music taste didn’t begin to suck, Gerard thinks to himself when he catches a sound of the chorus of Iron Maiden’s Dance of Death.

Frank is about to look up, but the moment he realizes Gerard is still looking at him he shoots his eyes back down, and Gerard can’t do anything but sigh and turn around. While he is trying to sit normally without the chewing gums stuck to his chair boning his ass, he notices one more pair of eyes pointed at him. He glances around the class by reflex, finding a familiar face hidden behind a curtain of long greasy locks of hair. Low brow, shit eating grin - you’re allowed to kill Gerard right at the spot if that isn't Bert The Creep.

He shrugs, remembering everything that guy put him through, and brings his attention back to the teacher; trying to clear his mind from everything going on at the moment. It’s been a pain in the ass, coming back here, and he was sure he wasn’t going to be treated with the best of welcomes. Especially from the people he wants one of those from.

*

"Well, beats me if this ain’t the famous older Way brother," Bert appears next to him two minutes after the bell rings. Gerard rolls his eyes, but decides to act normal. That’s the least he can do, it’s possible Bert has changed, right? You never know what the years can do to a person.

“Hello, McCracken,” Gerard says with a smirk while collecting his things. “It’s been a while.”

“No shit,” Bert pats his shoulder. “Frank here missed you a lot,” he says and pulls Frank’s hood to hold him back from passing beside them. He’s obviously really eager to avoid this conversation, but Bert’s firm grip on his hoodie isn’t letting him do that.

“Hi Frank,” Gerard says, looking at him. Frank obviously still hasn’t decided to make eye contact, so he just stares right through him.

“Gerard,” he nods.

The tension is so thick you can slice it with a knife, much to Bert’s amusement. He’s watching the whole scene with a smirk playing on his face - Gerard looking at Frank, Frank looking somewhere in front of himself. That is, until Frank breaks the silence.

“Excuse me; I have classes to go to. Bert, please let go of me,” he says in a stern voice and Bert complies; Frank storming off in his own direction before any of them manage to say goodbye.

Gerard watches him bolt out of the room like something was chasing him and a huge knot appears inside his stomach. He doesn’t even realize he’s staring at the empty door arch until Bert speaks again.

“What have you got next?”

Gerard sighs loudly and Bert’s face shows he knows which subject he has. “Gym, huh?”

“Yeah,” Gerard says and starts walking towards the door. “You?”

“Same,” he smirks and Gerard sighs again, in relief this time. Bert seems to have changed, he’s much nicer now, or so he hopes. That’s why he’s glad they have a few classes together, because he’s the only one who’s willingly talked to him throughout the entire day. Gerard went over to his locker to dump his books inside, seeing Bert’s already done that and now is standing behind him, obviously waiting for Gerard to finally manage to lock the piece of shit the locker they gave him was.

When he finally pulls it off, they head towards the locker room.

Gerard can swear to fuck and God and whatever you please that the locker room in their school is the smelliest place on earth. It reeks of feet and sweat and heated rubber so much he almost has to pinch his nose so it doesn’t make him pass out. Visually, it isn’t that bad, mostly because Gerard has no problem in seeing guys without their shirts [and sometimes, if he’s lucky enough, some other clothing items] off.

He walks inside behind Bert, hoping no one will notice him. Of fucking course, that hope expires when a ten feet tall fro person comes running towards him and lifts him up, almost choking him to death. “Gerard Way, I’ll be damned!” A high-pitched voice which definitely doesn’t fit the body shape says, putting Gerard down and allowing him to breathe. When he finally manages, he looks up at the mountain guy and can’t suppress cracking a grin.

“Raymond,” he smiles. Ray’s face lights up. “I see you’ve… grown. Much like your hair.”

Ray rolls his eyes but his face still looks happy as fuck when he says, “What a coincidence. We’ve been talking about you, like, yesterday.”

Gerard quirks an eyebrow while he’s kicking his converse off before tugging his jeans down his legs. “Why’s that?”

“Frankie told us his little secret,” Ray smiles sheepishly at Gerard.

“Oh, really? What secret?” Gerard says while pulling his gym shorts on.

“The one about you being his first kiss,” Ray still looks really really amused and Gerard is now really really not amused.

“Oh, that one,” Gerard says quietly after he’s tied his shoe laces. “Well, I better go, see you later?”

Gerard doesn’t even notice the look Bert was giving him through the whole conversation he’s had with Ray, and he doesn’t realize why Bert is frowning when Gerard nudges him to go into the gym with him.

They make it in time, the bell’s just rung and Gerard already curses himself for not deciding to ditch when the teacher assigns them to do push-ups.

You see, Gerard isn’t very athletic, that much is obvious, but he can run and dodge a ball so it doesn’t give him a concussion. But, the one thing he can’t, just simply can’t do is push-ups.
He survives, though, simply because the teacher isn’t there to witness his glorious attempts of not smashing his head against the floor and breaking his nose. Two minutes after he’s finished, the teacher comes back and tells them to line up. He’s about to give them further instructions when the gym doors open and a familiar head runs inside.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Frank pants while handing a piece of paper to the teacher. “I got shoved into a locker.” Everyone but Gerard and a few girls laughs.

“Oh, Iero, not again,” the teacher sighs. “What’s this paper for?”

“That’s my excuse, I’ve wrecked the ligaments of my left hand, so I can’t do Gym for the next two weeks,” he says, still panting slightly.

“Alright, alright,” the teacher says when he reads the note. “You can sit next to Lindsey on the bench. It’s not at all suspicious when you two can’t do Gym at the same time,” he says and Frank happily marches to sit next to Lindsey, immediately catching up in some conversation.

Gerard frowns to that. Are Lindsey and Frank a thing? No, it can’t be, no. Even if it is, he's not the one to be worked up about it, right? It’s not like it’s his business, anyway, is it?

“Okay, class, you’ll be climbing ropes. Now, there are only three in the gym, so you’ll take turns. We’ll go by alphabet…” Gerard now wants to punch someone in the face because, fuck you, he’s afraid of heights. I mean, he’s much more afraid of sheep, but he’s really afraid of heights, too. So, Gerard’s standing there shaking like he’s about to get sent to death penalty, when the teacher calls his name. He’s obviously in the last round because his last name starts with a ‘W’, which is expected in the same amount it’s annoying. He sighs, gulps loudly and takes a hold of the rope.

It’s not that scary to climb up, as he sees eventually, even though he reaches the top after everyone else is already done. Then he has to climb back down, and that fucks him up completely.

“Okay,” he says to himself. “You can do this.” He lowers a hand and grabs the rope further down, but shit is wiggly and the rope swings, promptly followed by a scream from his side.

“Frank, go help him,” he hears a female voice, supposedly Lindsey’s, as he’s panting and whimpering up there. He hears a groan two seconds later and a voice he now knows as Frank’s hisses, “Why?”

“Because you’re the only one here who can and he needs it! Go!” He hears a sound as if someone was being pushed. He hears footsteps and a call of his name grabs his attention.

“Gerard!” Gerard is about to look down when the voice growls at him, “Don’t look down! Whatever you do, don’t look down.” The voice gets calmer and it calms Gerard, too, who now inhales deeply and tries to follow Frank’s instructions. Step by step, in Frank’s soothing voice and he’s on the ground, shaking while sitting on the hard wooden floor. He is panting hard, and he feels a pair of eyes watching him while he’s too busy gathering himself up.

“Thank you,” he says to Frank. “I seriously don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t help me. I’d probably die or something.”

“Yeah,” Frank sighs and turns to walk away. “I didn’t do it for you,” he throws to him before jogging out of the gym.

Gerard tries to get to his feet, a familiar weight pressing his chest and making it hard to stand up. He looks over at the bench Lindsey is about to stand up from. She realizes he’s looking at her and waves at him. He waves back and gives her a smile.

“He’s just angry,” she tells him with a small smile before she walks out of the gym. “Give him some time."

Notes

Hello internet, I'm here to fuck shit up with my completely [non] existant writing abilities.

Tbh I'm excited as fuck. Because this fic will be rad. Because Rogue, being one of my best friends, is also the best writer I know. So, SHIT IS GONNA GET REAL.

I should like, go now,

- Milo