The Guitar Tutor

Thursdays. I always dreaded Thursdays. Thursday lunchtime was the only time when I was completely on my own. I usually went to sit in the library for an hour to listen to music while pretending to revise or, if I was lucky, I could find a vacant practise room and a guitar that’s in tune. Today wasn’t a lucky day. I traipsed around the music block, trying to find a spare room but all of them were occupied. I was about to walk out of the music block and to the library when Mr Way walked past.
“Hey Frank, are you looking for something?” he asked.
I stuttered. He remembered my name?
“Uh, no, I was just checking if there were any free practise rooms. They’re all occupied.” I murmured.
“Oh, that’s a shame. How’s your burn?” he inquired, his eyes looking worried.
Wow. He remembered my name and my burn?
“Oh, it’s not too bad.” I smiled.
“Anyway, I need to go, I'm late for something. Have a nice day.”
“You too sir.” I walked away. All I could think about was how he remembered me. Nobody ever noticed me, apart from Brandon Chesterfield and his mob of intellectually challenged assholes. I was invisible. I wasn’t any teacher’s favourite student and god knows how I became friends with Jamia. Why was he noticing me all of a sudden?
Unless…
No. he was a teacher. He was paid to ask about his students’ welfare. He was paid to care. And even if he did take interest in me, why me? Why some stupid, short, depressed sixteen year old boy whose only talent is playing guitar?
My mind was so preoccupied with Mr Way that when I walked out of the building, I didn’t see Brandon and his mob.
“Where you going, fag?” Brandon shouted. I tried to ignore them and briskly walk to the door leading to the main building.
“I SAID WHERE ARE YOU GOING, FAG?” he screamed.
“To the main fucking building, dipshit, or are you as blind as you’re fucking stupid?” I shouted back.
Wrong move.
“what did you say to me?” he said, moving towards me. I turned in the opposite direction and ran. I had no idea where I was running, but all I knew was that I had to get away before I got beat up again.
“the pussy’s running away!” one of them screamed. I turned my head and saw them running towards me.
why me?
I swerved around the corner of the gym and felt a small, hard pebble hit my head. They were still on my tail and now they were throwing even more things at me now. I swerved into the main building and paced through the corridor, Brandon still chasing after me. Mr Naresh, the head of computing, screamed at us to stop running. Brandon obviously didn’t listen and chased me up the main staircase to the library. He couldn’t lay a finger on me in the library.
I sprinted to the end of the corridor and was about to burst through the library doors, when I saw the sign.
A level biology study session – sixth formers only.
Fuuuuck.

Brandon and three of his other gang caught up with me. I felt tough punch to the stomach and my eyesight darkened. I doubled over.
“that’ll teach you to run away again, fag.”
They started kicking me in the ribs, my eyesight now completely black. I bit my lip to stop myself screaming, the pain searing through me. one of the English assistants must have heard the boys kicking me and they opened the door of their office.
“STOP THIS AT ONCE!” they shouted. The teacher stormed out of the room and the boys ran away, leaving me on the floor clutching my ribs. They knelt down to my level.
“is anything broken?” they asked. I didn’t reply, I was too busy trying not to scream.
“I'm going to call the nurse. What’s your name?” I gritted my teeth.
“F-Frank. Iero.” I whispered.
“do you know the names of those boys?”
I didn’t reply. I’d already tried to tell someone who was bullying me and it didn’t end well.
The nurse walked to me.
“how did this happen?” she asked, trying to secure me to a sitting position.
“some boys were hitting him.” The English teacher said.
“did you know who those boys were?”
I didn’t reply.
“this won’t stop until you tell us so we can deal with them.”
I was silent.
The nurse helped me up to my feet. Pain soared through my chest, my ribs badly bruised. She helped me walk to her office and told me to sit down. She gave me an icepack and told me to hold it up against my ribs. I swear to god all this school ever does to take care of students is give them icepacks.
Sports injury? Here’s an icepack.
Anxiety? Here’s an icepack.
Bubonic plague? Here’s an icepack.

The bell rang, signalling the end of lunch.
“do you think you’ll be ok to go to your next lesson?” the nurse asked. I nodded and walked out of her office. The only reason I said yes was because my next lesson was with Jamia. She was the only person that could make me feel ok about this shit.
I walked into the classroom and took my seat just in front of her. I felt a piece of paper be smacked into my shoulder. It was from J.
Hey, what did u do this lunch?
I looked to see if my chemistry teacher had noticed. He was writing some equations on the board. I turned the paper over and wrote:
Not much, got beat up by Brandon, same old same old.
I passed it to her again.
You got WHAT?? Are you ok? Does it still hurt?
I read the note, jotted some notes down in my book and replied:
Hurts like a bitch, but I'm ok
I passed it backwards again.
Jesus Frank, you can’t just let them do that to you! Didn’t you go to the library?
My ribs stung.
Library was closed, some A-level revision session.
I passed the note back.
Jesus fucking Christ, you can’t just let them walk all over you like that! I swear to fucking god if I see them ever again I am going to shove a cactus up their arsehole.
Oh god no.
Calm the fuck down, if you do that it’ll just make it worse.
The frustration on her face was intensifying.
Just you fucking wait Iero, the minute I lay eyes on them they’re going to wish they were never born. Just you fucking wait.

Notes

fluffy gerard-ness will come in later chapters, i just don't want to rush it