The Adventures Of Frank, The Perpetually Angry Teenager

I stomp through the school, thick black combat boots seeming to shake the floor beneath my feet as I head towards the art room. I scowl at anyone who dares to look at me, black eye shadow making me look murderous. Or at least I hope it does.

I push the door to the room open and sulk to my seat at the back of the room, loving the way I can feel my tattered black trench coat flowing behind me. I make sure to twirl a little before I sit down. Fuck am I feeling dramatic today.

I spot Gerard sitting near the front of the room, surrounded by a group of giggling girls as usual. I have to admit I had become a little obsessed with figuring out what was going on in that strange mind of his. I was also a little preoccupied by his bright colors.

I'm pretty sure that art class is the only thing I actually like in life. The teacher believes in a 'free environment' for 'advanced artists', which really just means she believes that if you're mature enough to actually work on art during class you can pretty much do whatever you want. I always take full advantage of this rule.

"Hey, you know that roll of really wide paper you have?"

"The three meter stuff?"

"Yeah. Can I have a square of that?"

"Well, what are you going to do with it?"

"I'm going to do one of my color portraits. But I'm going to try something a little different."

She shrugs. "Alright Frank, I trust you. It's in the fabric closet."

I go to retrieve the paper, cutting myself a square and laying on the floor, taping the edges down. This could get messy. I'm usually very careful about where my brush strokes go, but this time I think I'm going to try to be a little more violent and spontaneous. After a few seconds of debate I decide to do Gerard again. His colors are so fun. I collect the necessary paints and paintbrushes.

Standing before the giant piece of paper with a large brush in my hand dripping with red paint makes me feel so powerful, and I bend over and start to paint the hair. I use quick, long strokes, and soon the hair is done. It looks great. I realize the brush dripped some red over where his face was going to go and decide to drip some over the rest of the painting too.

When I'm finally done, I sit there on the floor admiring my work. It's Gerard, but it's not too obvious. The only thing that gives it away is the colors. He's standing on a hill leaning against a dead tree and pointing down the hill. I had some sort of meaning in mind when I painted it but I forgot what.

The bell rings and I sigh. I don't want to get up, and I don't have a class next period, so I could really just sit here for an hour. But no, I probably shouldn't. I stand up and turn around to find Gerard right behind me.

"Is that..."

"You? Yeah."

"...what am I doing?"

"You know, I forgot."

"How could you forget something like that?"

"Why? Does it matter?" He's acting pretty weird about this.

"Of course it matters!"

"Well...I'll try to remember then. Sorry, dude." I think back to exactly what I had been feeling when painting him, and I could feel myself starting to blush. "Oh."

"What? Did you remember?"

"Yeah but...okay, if you want me to tell you, you're going to have to tell me something in return."

"...like what?"

"I just want to know why you hang out with those kids. It's obvious you don't like them."

"...I hang out with them because...I don't know, I guess somewhere along the way I decided that fake friends are better than no friends. And since I have no actual friends...well, it should be pretty obvious. That's uh...that's actually why I keep hanging around you, Frank. I need a friend."

"Okay, I don't feel so weird about telling you this now. It meant that you are powerful. I imagined you standing there as the picture of confidence, pointing down at all the girls that always follow you around, telling them to leave you alone, because you don't need them." I say it kind of fast. It's still pretty embarrassing that I painted something with that much meaning for someone I barely know and pretended to hate.

When I look up Gerard is just staring at the painting. "I love it. Can I take a picture of it or something?"

"You can have it if you want."

"Really? Shit man I'm sorry for just pushing so much emotion on you but that would mean a lot to me."

"No problem. I don't have room for it anyways. It's kind of big."

He chuckles. "Yeah, no kidding."

I smile back. "So does this mean we're friends now?"

"If you want to be."

"Yeah, sure. But you can bet I'm not going to be hanging out with those fake friends of yours."

"Don't worry, I won't be either."

Notes

Yay friends!!!