Trapped

The first day of school at East Valley High is just like any other. Gerard drives to school, his foot heavy on the gas pedal. He arrives ten minutes before the bell and makes the decision to spend that fleeting time in the art room. He’s lucky to have art first thing in the morning; it’s a privilege to draw for an extra ten minutes before class even starts.
No, nothing is special about the start of Gerard’s senior year. He doesn’t even feel different. There’s supposed to be a hovering motivation of this being his last year of high school, but he really doesn’t sense it. It’s almost as if the rest of his life will be spent in that dreaded building. He doesn’t hate high school, no, he’s finally grown content. Still, he can think of no worse punishment than that of routine. He wants extraordinary, and he isn’t going to find it here.
Gerard can’t find extraordinary, so there was no 0ther route than for the extraordinary to find him. And it came to him in the vessel of a fifteen year old boy named Patrick Stump.
Patrick hadn’t been there initially; Gerard had never even heard the name, and everything was perfectly fine before he knew Patrick. But the second that Patrick came into his life, Gerard realized that he’d been missing something.
Gerard’s first time meeting Patrick is in his second period humanities class. Humanities is a prep course for academic decathlon, an extracurricular Gerard has participated in since freshman year.
Out of the enormous amount of freshman coming into the high school this year, zero had opted to take humanities. At least, that’s what Gerard thought. The universe practically forced Patrick into that class for the sole purpose of proving Gerard wrong.
Patrick is the last one in the classroom that second day of the 2014-15 year, and Gerard doesn’t even see him come in. It isn’t until the boy sits down next to him that Gerard is aware of his existence.
Patrick’s existence isn’t a particularly quiet one, either. In fact, he can easily be considered as one of the more popular boys in his grade. This isn’t the norm, a quiet, introverted kid like him being socially successful. But this is the case. He had a number of relationships in the past, none of which were serious, of course. It was middle school, and dating usually meant sharing a bus seat. But now, this is high school, this is different. This is breaking down crying when doing homework. This is experimenting with teens whose last names you can’t remember. This is trying to come to grips with reality, and failing to. This is buying weed from a member of the National Honors Society, and this is taking Aderall to pull an all-nighter and finish your semester final paper. This is real shit, and these kids have it up to their necks.
Gerard takes interest in the boy, greeting, “Hey. I’m Gerard.”
“Patrick,” the boy replies. He brushes a hand through his bangs, his hand trembling slightly.
“Hey, relax,” Gerard advises. “It’s alright.”
Patrick gives a giggle, a nervous one accompanied with an uneasy look. “I’m fine.”
“You’re cute when you’re lying,” Gerard says softly.
Patrick turns scarlet, and he begins to stammer, struggling to piece together a response. Luckily for him, the bell rings, signaling the class to be quiet and give their attention to the teacher, which he readily does.
Gerard rolls his eyes, eventually turning his head to the teacher. He doesn’t get a single chance to speak to Patrick for the rest of the period; the teacher talks right up to the bell. Although Patrick was the last one into the room, he’s the first one out of it, making Gerard scramble to catch up with him.
Gerard is unable to find Patrick in the crowded hallway. It only makes sense that Patrick is always in a hurry for class; he’s definitely uptight, and is certainly trying to hide it. Gerard settles for making a mental note to speak with him later, heading to his next class.
Gerard runs into Patrick again, much sooner than he expected. He goes down to the locker room for his seventh hour gym class to see Patrick down there, along with Frank.
Frank is Gerard’s best friend. The two met when Frank moved there during Gerard’s 8th grade year. Frank was a 5’2 seventh grader with ripped jeans and dyed hair, and Gerard was the designated fat kid. It only made sense for them to become friends.
Ever since Gerard shed 45 pounds and gained about 20 pounds of muscle, he’d felt that he was finally capable of standing a chance against his peers. That was the summer of his freshman year. From sophomore year on, he proceeded to give zero shits about anything that wasn’t important, and he took it upon himself to watch over Frank.
Not that Frank can’t take care of himself. He’s just such a genuinely sweet, happy guy, and Gerard hates to see him be picked apart over something trivial.
It’s not even two minutes past seventh period when Frank is given a hard time in the locker room. The kid giving it to him is this junior named Dalton, a sort of dirt bag that Gerard was never too fond of.
“Hey, Iero,” Dalton calls.
Frank gazes up at him, replying, “Yeah?”
Dalton strides over and punches Frank hard in the stomach, spitting, “Think fast.”
Frank bursts out coughing, still managing to wheeze, “Good one.”
Gerard takes no time in shoving Dalton, cursing, “Hey, asshole. Back off.”
Dalton, having gotten into a shoving match with Gerard before, decides to step down. He doesn’t apologize, but he retreats to the gym silently.
Gerard turns to speak with Frank, only to see Patrick already consoling the boy. Patrick makes fleeting eye contact with Gerard before patting Frank on the shoulder and leaving, heading upstairs to the gym.
Gerard rushes over to his friend, asking, “What’d Patrick say to you?”
“Nothing important,” Frank answers, stomping into his sneakers. He grabs Gerard by the forearm, dragging him along. “Let’s go; we’re going to be late.”
“What do you mean, ‘nothing important?’” Gerard demands. “It came from Patrick’s mouth, it had to be important.”
Frank smirks, asking, “What, do you have a crush on him or something?”
“Well, yeah,” Gerard admits. “Frank, you know me. I got a crush on our cashier at the gas station and thought about him for like a month straight.”
“You did think about him, but not straight,” Frank jokes.
Gerard punches him in the shoulder, making Frank whine. The two reach the gym in time to run the four lap warm up. Naturally, Gerard is the last one to finish, with Frank not far ahead, but what is a surprise is Patrick being the first one done, beating sophomores, juniors, seniors even.
“That kid’s fucking crazy,” frank wheezes, gazing at Patrick in awe.
“If he’s crazy, then I want to be,” Gerard responds.
The class splits up into four teams to play volleyball, and it’s by luck that Frank and Gerard are lumped into the same group. They assume their positions, Gerard in the back right corner where he can do the least damage, and Frank in the front row. They face Patrick’s team first, Patrick being the very first one to serve.
Patrick tosses the ball up, hitting it with his open hand and sending it sailing over the net and straight at Gerard’s chest.
Gerard grunts; the ball had struck him hard. It bounces off onto the ground, and he looks up to see Patrick with both hands over his mouth, his brows furrowed. Gerard raises a hand and waves to assure he’s fine, kicking the ball back to the other side.
Patrick proceeds to serve about four or so in a row before Gerard’s team can make a measly attempt at returning it. Frank lobs it over the net, just to have the other team set up a spike which hits Gerard’s feet.
Patrick’s team ends up obliterating Gerard’s, and Gerard is perfectly fine with that. He’s opted out of P.E. for one semester each year since freshman year, and he intends to keep it that way.
The boys all head down to the locker room to shower. Gerard, as usual, avoids the shower, dousing himself with deodorant instead before getting dressed.
He sits on the bench, struggling to tie his worn Converses, when he notices Patrick emerging from the showers, towel wrapped loosely around his hips. His hair is pasted to his cheek and forehead in wet strands and he has the slightest bit of radiance coming from the water glistening off his chest and stomach. He’s walking past a sophomore named Logan when said sophomore yanks on the hem of his towel.
It just so happened to be that very moment that both Gerard and Frank were looking at Patrick.
Patrick turns beet red, cupping a hand over himself and reaching for his towel, so flustered that he drops it several times before hoisting it back up.
Frank merely acts as though he wasn’t looking, standing in his underwear and pretending to inspect his nails. Gerard, however, grabs a nearby towel from the floor and snaps it against Logan’s shoulder, scolding, “Douchebag!”
Logan blushes himself, ducking his head into his shirt. Gerard scoffs at him before peering at Patrick, asking, “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” Patrick mutters, although he sure doesn’t sound like it. There’s a waver to his voice as though he’s on the brink of tears, and all it takes is a steady look from Gerard to have him break down in front of the other boys.
One of the teens starts to snicker, and Gerard growls, “Shut the fuck up.”
Gerard stands, grabbing Patrick by the shoulder and leading him into the bathroom to talk, Patrick’s backpack in his other hand.
Gerard hands him his bag, mumbling, “I grabbed your clothes.”
“Thanks,” Patrick sniffles, pulling his clothing out. He steps into his pants and underwear, pulling them up beneath his towel as Gerard speaks.
“Everything okay?”
Patrick shrugs into his button up, replying, “Yeah, yeah; everything’s great.”
“Then why’d you start crying?” Gerard challenges. “And don’t get me wrong- I’m all for crying, but the thing about it is that it’s never without good reason.”
“What, being naked in front of a room full of people isn’t a good reason?” Patrick chuckles uneasily.
“Not necessarily,” Gerard answers. “It’s just… they’re boys, you know? Why’d it bother you so much.” Patrick begins to stammer, so Gerard hastily adds, “I’m not invalidating your feelings, I’m just wondering.”
“Well, there’s no big story, okay?” Patrick responds. “I’m a sensitive guy, I get upset easy. That’s all there is to it.”
He grabs his bag and walks out, making Gerard call, “You sure?”
“Yeah.”

Notes

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