Bound

Gerard shows up to that period with swollen red eyes fresh from crying, and this doesn’t necessarily go unnoticed, but no one cares enough about him to say anything.
Gerard mopes through the class, dragging his pencil lazily across his paper. This is the one time that drawing can’t fucking fix it, and it’s leaving him confused and scared.
Gerard prays that he doesn’t have any other periods with Frank, but alas, no such luck. Gerard’s stuck with Frank for yet another period, creative writing.
He avoids Frank for as long as he can, but when the counselor splits them into pairs of two, she assigns Gerard with Frank. The two are supposed to write a story together, and Gerard is so not psyched when Frank stomps over, throwing himself bodily into the chair across from Gerard.
“Look,” Frank grumbles. “I’ll cooperate, but don’t fucking fall in love with me or some shit.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Gerard scoffs.
Frank sits there quietly, fiddling with his pen. “So, I guess we should make our protagonist.”
“Boy or girl?” Gerard asks, ripping a sheet of paper from his notebook. He sketches a head, and gazes over at Frank expectantly.
“Can they be a transgendered boy?” Frank murmurs.
Gerard raises an eyebrow. “Transgendered boy?”
“Yeah,” Frank proceeds. “You know, someone who is physically a girl but identifies as a boy.”
“Okay,” Gerard decides. “What should her- um- his name be?”
“How about their birth name is Mackenzie, but they like to be called… Kyle,” Frank suggests, his voice wary.
“Sure,” Gerard replies. “Let’s make them fifteen years old.”
“And the conflict of the story?” Frank questions.
“We’ll have it be a short story. How about…” Gerard begins.
“Can it be about bullying?” Frank asks.
Gerard frowns, growling, “Well, it is something you know plenty about.”
Frank doesn’t actually get pissed, but just bows his head. He swings his feet, picking at his hands as he confesses, “Gerard, I’m really sorry I was so mean to you.”
“So, you won’t do it again?” Gerard inquires hopefully.
Frank’s brows knit, and he admits, “I can’t promise that.”
Gerard’s expression turns angry as he spits, “Fuck you, Frank. You’re an asshole.”
“Eat shit,” Frank retorts quietly.
“You know what, I’ll write the goddamned paper and just put both of our names on it,” Gerard declares.
“Fine,” Frank replies. “I wouldn’t want to work with a disgusting fatass like you anyways.”
“At least I’m not fucking popping boners, pervert,” Gerard snaps. He writes furiously, giving Frank the finger with his free hand. The rest of the class is spent in stony silence, Frank pouting at the ground, and Gerard’s pen scratching at the paper madly.
Frank makes sure each and every one of his roommates are sound asleep before tiptoeing out of the cabin. He sneaks his way across the campground, walking slowly as not to walk into the side of a cabin. He passes one of the counselors’ houses with extreme caution, snaking through the grass on his hands and knees, not taking the risk of waking anyone up with the crunch of his footsteps. He’s about to the woods, so close to being home free when he smacks into something hard.
He’s knocked back on his ass, and his hand gropes in his pocket wildly for a flashlight. Just as his hand closes around his phone, a light is shone in his face, causing him to squint into the brightness.
“Well, well, well, looks like we caught us a little faggot, boys,” a voice sneers.
Frank immediately recognizes the voice as Tanner’s, his main tormentor. He springs to his feet and turns to run, but he’s grabbed by the forearm tightly, rooted to his spot.
“Don’t even think about running,” Tanner threatens.
“Look, I really don’t have time for this,” Frank pleads. “Please, just let me go and kick my ass tomorrow.”
Tanner laughs incredulously. “You trying to hold a bargain, Iero? Ten bucks says that tomorrow you’ll act like the pussy you are and hide from us and we won’t get to you.”
“No, no,” Frank begs. “Seriously, I will fucking approach you tomorrow, if, you let me go tonight.”
“I dunno, gays are sneaky,” Tanner smirks. “What’re you doing out past your bedtime, anyways?”
“I… I…” Frank stammers dumbly.
Tanner tackles Frank, tossing his flashlight to the side and pinning the younger boy to the ground. He digs into Frank’s front pocket, ignoring the boy’s cries of protest.
“I got it! Got his phone!” Tanner cheers, tossing it back to his friends. “Check his messages.”
One of the other teens, Aubrey catches it. He swipes his way to Frank’s messages, clearing his throat before reading out loud,
“Frank, how is summer camp going? Remember, Mommy loves you.”
The boys all laugh, and Frank’s grateful that they can’t see his scarlet face in the darkness of the night.
“Keep looking!” another encourages.
Aubrey continues to dig, quickly finding what he was really looking for. He reads, “Frank, make sure none of your bunkmates know about this. Sneak out after lights out, and find your way to the woods. We can hang out for a bit, and if you’re good, maybe I’ll give you a handjob.”
The boys all snicker, and Aubrey claims,
“Since Iero is incapacitated, I will do the liberty of responding to the text.” He reads his words out loud as he types, “Fuck you, you fucking freak. I was playing you this entire time. Leave me alone.”
Frank starts to cry, and Tanner takes note of this, calling out, “Iero’s fucking crying!”
“We’ll give you something to cry about,” Tanner growls, standing. He pulls Frank to his feet by the collar of his shirt and hauls him to a public bathroom, locking the door behind him and his friends. They all corner Frank, who proceeds to ball up on the floor, clutching his knees to his chest.
He’s picked up by two of the boys, who carry him over to a stall, which is when Frank starts to kick and scream. He yells, for a counselor, another camper, anyone.
But it’s no use, and the boys manage to tilt Frank’s head into the toilet, despite the fact that Frank tries his best to keep away.
He hears it flush and feels the waves through his hair. They dunk his head further, and he’s totally unprepared to be completely submerged, so he starts coughing and gagging almost instantly. It’s a few more dips until they finally take him out, tossing him to the ground. They leave him, drenched from the neck up, on the cement bathroom floor, dropping his phone into the toilet on their way out.
Frank stops his sobbing, picking himself up slowly. He leaves his phone there, figuring its useless now. His mom will kill him, but that’s the least of his concerns now. He slumps back to his cabin, opening the door to see Gerard sitting upright in bed, facing Frank.
He’s so shocked he almost squeals, but manages to keep himself quiet so as not to waken his other roommates.
“Where were you?” Gerard demands. “And you’re wet, plus I can smell you from here. You smell like piss.” He’s quiet for a moment, looking down at Frank expectantly.
Frank’s too upset to argue at the moment, so he just shrugs his shoulders, pulling off his sopping wet shirt.
“Bullshit you don’t know; people don’t come waltzing in at one a.m. reeking of piss, dripping wet, and not knowing how it happened,” Gerard continues.
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Frank replies. He pulls his pants to his ankles, stepping out of them and crossing the room to his dresser.
“Can you stop fucking stripping and tell me what really happened?” Gerard barks, causing one of the boys to stir in their sleep.
Frank shushes him, hissing, “You’re going to fucking wake them up!”
“And you’ll be the one with explaining to do,” Gerard reasons.
Frank shakes his head, putting on a clean shirt. He turns his back to Gerard as he slips out of his boxers as well, changing into a clean pair. “It’s none of your business, piss ant.”
“Au contraire,” Gerard responds. “You are the one with the stench of urine.”
Frank rolls his eyes, ignoring Gerard and stepping into the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” Gerard asks.
“Taking a shower,” Frank replies. “You should too; you fucking smell all the time.”
“I don’t want to,” Gerard answers simply.
Frank pokes his head out of the bathroom, questioning, “Why not?”
Gerard is silent, his cheeks pink. Frank’s stomach drops as he realizes, “You don’t want to be called fat, do you?”
“Shut up,” Gerard mumbles.
“Fat…. Fat isn’t an insult, you know,” Frank tells.
“I said shut up,” Gerard growls. “Just shut your fucking trap for once, Frank.”
Frank nods, looking up at Gerard with red eyes. “I’m sorry. I am.”
“Then why do you keep doing it?” Gerard says, a tear dropping down his cheek. He wipes it away quickly, glancing at Frank to see if he noticed, which he totally did, but pretends not to.
“I don’t know,” Frank answers honestly. “I just… I get so angry sometimes.” “At me?” Gerard asks, his voice small.
Frank smiles, shaking his head. “No, not at you.”
“Then don’t take it out on me,” Gerard suggests. “Face whoever you’re mad at.”
“I can’t,” Frank replies.
“Why not?” Gerard asks.
“There’s four of them.”
Gerard is quiet, scratching at a bug bite on his arm. “Why are you being bullied?”
Frank peers down at the floor, face red. “It’s only because I’m gay.”
Gerard’s surprised, and it must show in his face, because Frank is quick to snap,
“I can’t fucking help it, you know. I would rather be anything than fucking gay. I’d rather be dead.”
“Don’t say that,” Gerard pleads.
“I would. I’d be fucking happier if I wasn’t a fag. Why do I have to be gay? Everyone else gets to be fucking normal, everyone else gets to be happy, why can’t I?” Frank weeps, tears streaming down his face. “I’ve spent all of my fucking life being tormented, and I’ve done nothing except be myself. I’m fucking thirteen years old and I want to die, and it’s not fair!”
“Frank,” Gerard says quietly.
“What?” Frank demands.
“Being straight isn’t what’s normal,” Gerard answers. “It’s only what’s common.”
“I don’t give a shit, all I know is that I’d rather have cancer than be the way I am,” Frank continues. “There’s no way to get away from it; there’s no escape, and it fucking sucks.” He slumps to the floor, burying his face in his knees as he cries, “I just want to go away.”
Gerard whispers, “Frankie.”
Frank looks up, his golden eyes red and swollen.
“There’s a few things I learned in life,” Gerard explains. “And that is, clean your wounds when you cut yourself, don’t take anyone’s bullshit, love what you are, and clean your wounds when you cut yourself again.”
Frank murmurs, “I’m going to go take a shower.”
Gerard offers a wave, but Frank just droops his shoulders and leaves the room.

Notes

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