I'm not Okay

The car pulls up across the road from the iron gates into hell. My mom turns back from the front seat and fixes Mikey’s tie. “Okay,” she smiles, she still believes school is good for us, “Have fun!” Mikey’s expression lightens a fraction for her, mine doesn’t. Her brow furrows as she sends us off.
“Um Gee,” Mikey says uncomfortably as the car drives away, leaving us exposed to the gates of prison, “do you mind if we walk in at the different times…? Just for today.”
“Yea sure, you first,” I smile meekly.
“Thanks Gerard,” he makes his way across the road and into the car park. He meets friends almost immediately. I took in my shirt and straighten my collar as disappears inside in a small laughter.
Unlike my brother I don’t get greeted by a laughing group of comrades or even a smile. Head down, I bump my school bag higher on my back and begin my descent into the cold grey building of St. Mary’s high school. I can feel eyes on my back real or imaginary. I just strut on toward my locker. I see Mikey’s friend Jack smile at me and I smile back but the momentary distraction is prime opportunity to smash me into the lockers.
Ah school, the lovely smell of blood trickling out of my nose.
I finally reach my locker and slide my bag off my back. The laughter and chatter of everyone around me is pissing me off and it’s not even nine o’clock yet. It’s your last year I tell myself over and over. Only one more year.
“Hey Way Gay how was your summer?” Logan says slamming his shoulder into my locker, shutting it as I try to open it. The nickname has been getting gradually shorter since freshman year when it somehow escaped that I liked a guy in my class. This really ruined everything for me. I went from “Way’s too gay to live” to “Way too Gay to live” to “Way Gay to live” to now “Way Gay.” Of course there was some variations and misinterpretations in the time I’ve spent in school but those are the main ones,
“Superb,” I say dramatically, trying to reopen my locker.
“Aren’t you going to ask how mine was?” Logan says, reslamming my locker.
“Of course, how was your summer, Logan,” I spit.
“Great, I fucked so many bitches,” he grins, “but that doesn’t make you jealous, does it. Anyway, get the fuck away from my locker.”
“What?”
“You heard me. This is my locker this year Way Gay. Get forth.”
“Get forth?” I scoff. “This is my locker, Logan. It has been for the past three years.”
“There’s a new kid and he’s been given mine so I’ve been given yours, now get the fuck out of here or do I have to bring you,” he flashes his teeth. Before he got braces there was a joke that “even Logan’s teeth are straighter than Gerard Way”. Haha life in a catholic private school haha.
I’m not in the mood for conflict or anything so I pull my bag back on my back and walk away.
The secretary is busy with freshmen so I am directed to a student busy at the filing cabinet. “Hello, er, Gerard?” he smiles, handing a new stack of printed schedules to the ambushed secretary. “I think your locker has been moved,” he says disappearing under the desk leaving only a glimpse of his mass of hair. “Ah, yes. Here you go. It says here your locker is on… yes number six hundred and sixty five. It’s um… oh it’s on the west wing of the school. You’re new combination is six, twelve, six. Here’s your schedule while you’re here and yep. See you around!”
I nod and smile weakly as I skulk back into the crowded halls. It’s getting closer and closer to the first bell. I begin my journey to the wing of the school where the physics classrooms are. There are only two physics classes a day and I think I may be the only one with a locker over here. It might just be my schools way of showing they don’t like homosexuals either.
I pass a group of cheerleaders who all stare me down. Especially Marjorie Wilcoxon. Last year the cheerleaders had a contest to see if any of them could turn me straight, so basically get me hard. Marjorie won four days into the contest by tying my shoe laces and resting her breasts on my knee. The concept of bisexuality is so bizarre to these people that they all believed I had turned straight and laughed about that for around a month.
“Don’t stare at me that way,” Marjorie snarls. I wasn’t even looking at her.
The halls gradually got emptier as I made my way to my new locker. I was right in thinking I’m the only one with a locker in this part of the school. I’m so far away from the classroom of my first class too.
I notice in the reflection of the window as I slip off my backpack that there is a massive crucifix directly over my locker. Well played catholic school, well played.
The first bell rings while I’m staring up at the carved piece of wood. “Fuck,” I say trying to put in my new code. I swing my locker open and, really randomly, a guy falls out.
Literally, some short ass dude knocks me to the ground as he falls out of my locker. I lie on the linoleum, startled, as the guy jumps off me whispering a “fuck” of awe.
I stare up at him from the floor. “Hi. Are you alive?”
“A bit of an exaggeration,” I say, sitting up, “you just frightened me not fucking killed me.”
His eyes widen, “right yea,” he extends his hand to me.
“How did you get in there?” I ask, taking his hand. “Who are you, are you that new kid?”
“Uh yea, I’m new, my name is Frank. Who’re you?” he says looking uncomfortable.
“Gerard,” I shove some books into my locker, lessening the weight of my bag. The second bell rings. “Shit we should go to class,” I say. “Mine’s French.”
“Ah yea mine is um, in here,” he says gesturing to a door at the end of the hall. That is a physics classroom.
“Physics?” I begin walking backwards toward the main part of the school.
“Um, yup. I just love my numbers…” I can’t tell if he’s joking, lying or deadly serious. I just nod and make my way to class.

I decide to eat my lunch in one of the physics rooms. They’re usually empty and they’re right beside my locker. I carry my tray of cafeteria food into the halls. My bowl of stew is precariously balanced in the middle of the tray and my sandwich is wrapped in plastic sliding side to side as walk. My bottle of water tucked under my arm, I try to disappear.
“That doesn’t look well balanced,” fuck. I look to the left and see Logan and his friend Chase.
“Don’t be a dick, Logan,” I hear a voice on my right. Alex, Mikey’s friend has turned around.
I try walk on through, stepping over Logan’s extended foot but one swing of Chases arm sends my tray flying into my chest. The hot stew burns all the way down my shirt. The sandwich flies behind me and the cutlery clatters to the floor. The assholes leave in a crowd of laughter and Alex immediately drops down and picks up my dishes and things, “here,” he takes the tray from me. “I’ll take these back you clean yourself up.”
I smile meekly at him and pick up my sandwich, making a b-line for the bathrooms in the west wing. I wash as much stew off my chest as I can and then stand awkwardly underneath the hand dryer for ten minutes.
The Frank kid is sitting in the physics room when I get there, staring at his own hands. “Uh sorry,” I say and turn back toward the door.
“No wait!” he says jumping off the table by the wall. “Um, you can eat here if you want.”
“I was just going to uh eat and draw.” I shift the sketch pad under my arm.
“Cool!” he says enthusiastically. I nod slowly and sit down in the back corner. I open my sandwich and sketchpad.
What happened to your shirt?” Frank asks, twisted around on his desk and looking down at me.
“Uh… some assholes spilled my food on me,” I explain before biting into my sandwich.
Frank nods slowly. “People aren’t very nice here, are they?”
“No, not really. Some are okay but most are fucking assholes.” I look down and start sketching. I was working on comic book characters for my new comic.
“Whatcha drawing,” Frank asks, he’s closer now. Like he’s now sitting on the desk just in front of mine but I never heard him move.
“Just some characters,” I say, finishing my sandwich.
“Can I see?”
I lift up my sketchpad and his eyes widen. “They’re very very good,” he smiles. I murmur a thanks and go back to drawing.
After a few minutes he speaks again, “could you tell me something about the school?”
I sigh. I just want to fucking draw, but this guy seems nice enough and I don’t want to scare off everyone. “Yea. Uh, it’s catholic. All the teachers are okay in quality but they’re almost all homophobic and strict on dress code. Um, the cafeteria food has improved. That’s it really.”
“And how many years has it been open?” he says, his eyes twinkling.
“Uh twenty five this year,” I say, confused at the relevance.
“Twenty five,” he repeats in awe.
“Okay… I should go get my stuff for my last few classes…” I stand up. He nods enthusiastically and twists around on the desk, watching me until I leave.
Art is my last class, the only class I can fucking tolerate in this school, only because there’s no one in it that hates my guts. That and I actually enjoy drawing.
I sit beside the only other guy in the class. He spent the entirety of last year drawing Minecraft themed drawings. Yes he spent junior year art drawing boxes.
We all encircle a bowl of fruit and commence sketching. I haven’t had a single class with new guy Frank. I concede that h isn’t in my year and will probably end up being yet another one of Mikey’s friends. I’m not jealous of my brother… not really.
If I’m jealous of anyone it’s of his friends Jack and Alex. They’re openly in a relationship yet everyone likes them. They’re nice and funny and everyone’s friend unlike me. I’m that weird senior kid who no one wants to sit beside in case he spreads his gayness like a disease. Sometimes I think if I stopped wearing eyeliner or iron maiden shirts to PE or didn’t draw all the time people would like me better. Oh well.
I’m wrecked tired upon returning to my locker. It isn’t even fucking September yet and I’m bruised and tired and contemplating what my life would be like if I ran away to work in a gay bar. Probably a lot better.

Notes

Yea so i started a new one....
Let me know what you think and i'll keep writing
Sorry to anyone who wanted a sequel to the last one, i just had this idea and i really wanted to write it but i may write an epilogue or something :)))