Falling In Love With A Teacher Is The Least Fun A Teenage Boy Can Have Without Taking His Clothes Off

"Frank. Frank. Fraaaank."

I woke up in the morning to someone shaking me, quite aggressively. I groaned and waved a hand at them, muttering, "five more minutes!" They said something back to me, but I really didn't fucking care. That is, until they continued shaking me. I flailed one arm in their general direction, smirking when the back of my hand hit something with a slap. They scoffed and suddenly grabbed my arm, pulling me off the couch. I feel right on my shoulder, making me groan again. I pulled my arm away and rubbed my eyes. "The fuck, man?"
"... late," they told me.
"What?" I asked them, squinting my eyes against the harsh light flooding in from the windows.
"You're. Late," they repeated. their voice more firm this time. I immediately sat up, suddenly not feeling so tired. I turned to the one who woke me, recognizing them as my roommate. He held a hand to his cheek, which I could see was bright red despite the shadow his somewhat-afro gave on his face. "It's 7:57."
I threw the blanket off of me and stood up on two shaky feet, dashing to my room. I pulled out the first few things I saw in my closet and quickly slipped them on, nearly tripping over my own feet. I could hear Ray outside my door, laughing whenever I grunted or cursed at myself. Staying up marathoning Tim Burton movies the night before you start a new job isn't a good idea. After I got dressed, I went into my bathroom to get ready. I brushed my teeth first, half-assed brushing my hair, then put in my piercings, a nose ring, lip ring, and plugs. I took one last look in the mirror before grabbing my bag to look at my outfit. I had grabbed some tattered jeans and a shirt with "PENCEY PREP" printed across the front. Guess I'll just have to advertise my own band, then? I grabbed my messenger bag that I threw on my bed last night, swung it over my shoulder, then my keys. As I approached the door, Ray handed me a cup of coffee. "Aw, thanks hun," I teased, tilting my head to the side as I smiled. He chuckled and rolled his eyes. "C'mon, I know you want me!"
"Yeah yeah," he muttered, waving a hand at me, "get to work now, asshole."
I quietly thanked him and stepped outside, starting to jog in the direction of the school. First day of work and I'm already late. Well, school doesn't start until 9, and it's only 8:06 according to my phone, but teachers are supposed to get there at 7, so... yeah. I went over yesterday to clean up the room, but I have yet to really make it my own, y'know? It's surprising how quickly Belleville hired me, when there was only a week left of summer break, but they said they were desperate. Supposedly their last art teacher suddenly quit for seemingly no reason and a new teacher was needed immediately. I don't have a teacher's degree, but it didn't matter apparently. I had just quit my dead-end job as a barista, too. I was getting barely any money from there, plus my boss treated me like shit. I pulled my pack out of the side of my bag and lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. After watching the smoke billow out, I took a sip of coffee. Ah, coffee and nicotine, my two favorite tastes.

Eventually I got to the school, and I turned to my right to the high school building. Though the town I grew up in is only a few miles away, I'd never heard of this school before moving here a few years ago. The first time I'd been in the school was last week, when I applied for a job. From what I understood, the grades were divided into two buildings. The right one was 6 to 12, and the other building preschool to 5. In between the two buildings was a sports field. I walked through the double-doors, into the empty halls, and up the stairs. My classroom, the art room, was on the third floor. I eventually found it near the end of the corridor. I unlocked the door and softly shut it behind me. The room still smelled like cleaning chemicals, which was absolutely disgusting, but I didn't bring any air freshener so I couldn't really do anything. I set my bag down on the desk in the very front of the class. The layout was 6 groups of tables separated into two rows. The previous teacher hung posters up around the room of the principles of art and the color spectrum. It was really hard not to replace them with band posters. I plopped down in my seat, and that's when I noticed a folder placed on my desk with "IERO" written on the top. I opened it to find a list of my students by period. I looked through the names, trying to pick out which kids would be trouble makers by gut feeling. Having a pretty terrible high school experience myself, I can guess. One name caught my eye, a student in my last class, Way, Gerard. Ray is friends with a kid named Mikey who I think has the same last name. If this Gerard is anything like his assumed brother, he's some trouble-making party-goer who does drugs. Gerard, though, that's a strange name. Unlike mine, it's not a very common name.

I was pulled from my thoughts by a knock at my door. I hummed to say come in, and in poked a head. A girl with short, dark hair and bright red lips stared at me, smiling. "Hi!" she chirped as she stepped into the class.
"Uh, class isn't on yet," I told her, trying not to put an edge on my voice. She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. It wasn't until then I noticed tattoos peeking out from the sleeve of her studded leather jacket.
"I'm not a student," she explained once she stopped giggling. She walked over to my desk, her boots clicking against the grey linoleum floor, and stuck out a hand. "Lyn-z, the music teacher. I heard there was a new guy and I wanted to meet him."
I smiled back and shook her hand. "I'm Frank, new art teacher."
"I can see that," she replied, motioning to the room. I laughed nervously. I'll admit she was pretty, and it's a general rule in the Book of Frank Iero to get awkward around attractive people. "You need help with anything?"
I shook my head no. "Except maybe figuring out which kids here are the trouble makers?"
Her eyes widened and she held her hands out, opening and closing her palms like a kid. "Ooh, ooh, gimme!" Yup, definitely like a little child. I handed her the folder and she opened it, eagerly looking through the pages. "We got, what, an hour?" I nodded. "Perfect."
---
We eventually had a t-chart of all the troublemakers and good kids, by her definition. Most of the kids had made it on the list of the former. At the end of it, I decided to ask her something. "What about him?" I questioned, pointing at the Gerard kid's name on the paper. She quirked an eyebrow but looked nonetheless.
"Gerard Way..." she muttered and stared at the paper. "I've never had him in a class before." She bit her lip. "But!" she added, turning to me with a smile. "I have met his brother, Mikey. And oh boy, he refuses to listen to anyone." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She skimmed through the papers again before pointing at one name, Mikey, Way. "Yeah, you have him for fifth period. I'll tell you he's a fucking piece. Of. Shit."
"How so?"
She chuckled, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Treats everyone like shit, doesn't listen to anything you say, believes he's higher than authority, everything you can think of. It's a normal break room conversation to talk about how he always smells like pot or beer."
"Oh."
She hummed. Suddenly, the bell rang. She smiled once more and put the papers back in order and into the folder. "I'll see you during after school, yeah?" she asked. I nodded. "Great! I'll see you then."
Then she was gone.

Then, students flooded in, loudly chattering. As Lyn-z told me, and as I expected, several kids only signed up for art because it was an easy-A. I'll admit it kind of is, but that doesn't mean I don't care about art. I can at least try and make them struggle. They eventually all sat down, but didn't completely shut up, not until I stood up, cleared my throat, and knocked on the table a few times. "Morning!" I called, smiling, "I'm your new art teacher, Mister Iero."
Almost immediately, kids raised their hands. "Where'd Lucker go?" one said out loud.
"Your previous teacher quit," I told them simply, and they all went quiet. "Anyways, I want to get to know you guys. So how about you just draw something that you feel expresses yourself, hm?" They groaned, but went on anyways.
I hope today isn't a long one.

Notes

in case you guys want to know what i listen to while i write, here you go.
also here's some reference for lindsey's hair
once again, title is unrelated lyrics from Fall Out Boy's Tiffany Blews

xo