Not Enough, I'm Never Enough

Not many words are exchanged between Mikey, my parents and I over the course of the next few days. During this time, though, I take my own time to heal, both mentally and physically, staring at the weary faces of the other patients and drowning in my own silent solitude. No one from school visits me after Frank, which is not surprising. No one from Belleville knows me, and I don’t think anyone from my old schools gives a fuck about what I’m doing right now. Mikey drops by for about an hour each day, but never says a word during each visit. We simply sit there, occasionally catching the other’s eye, but otherwise staring into space. I think he’s given up on trying to fix me.

My parents, well… They settle the technical stuff. They arrive every morning to check on my blood and glucose levels (I have a risk of diabetes and high blood pressure) with my doctor, before giving me a curt nod and marching off. I don’t mind, though. They’ve always been like that,robots that were assigned a difficult task which is none other than raising me till I become an adult. They’re not too happy about it; they’ve never been, anyway, but I’d be happy if I were them. There’s just a couple of years left, after all. I have a feeling they would’ve been contented with Mikey alone, right from the very start.

My doctor sees me fit to attend school again after four days. It’s a bit of a struggle standing back up after remaining stationary forever, but the nurses help. They feel more like family than my parents do; I can imagine them watching me silently, occasionally sending me sympathetic glances as I fall back down every three seconds. It’s strange, but for some reason I can’t stop thinking about them these days. About how judging and calculating they are. How they believe only the very best can seek attention from them. That list includes Mikey, the perfect golden boy, but I don’t think I’ll be in it anytime soon.

Eventually, though, I manage to get back painfully home on foot. All three of them are away on their respective god-knows-what businesses, and so I have the rest of the day at home to myself. I go through the countless social media notifications on my phone, which I had left at home, reading every Tumblr, Instagram and Twitter posts my celebrity favourites have to post. I then flip through my textbooks, trying to see what I’ve missed out on. It’s probably a lot, judging by the pace I went through the second day itself. Finally deciding to let the teachers fill me in on that, I switch on the television and watch the thriller they show every weekday. It’s 11:07 pm when the movie finally ends, and it’s pretty late, so it’s an understatement to say I’m surprised when my mobile phone suddenly belts off the Misfits.

My eyebrows furrowing involuntarily, I head over to the phone and pick it up. It’s probably Mikey; maybe he’s drunk or something, and wants me to pick him up. I don’t see why anyone else would want to call. I hold the phone to my ear, answering the call.
“Yo, Mikes, got drunk again?” I yawn into the phone, my eyes hunting the room for the car keys to Mikey’s car which he’s left in the garage today. I’m not that much of a driver, but I do take a few spins around sometimes.

“Hey, it’s not, umm…Mikes. It’s Frank Iero.” That voice. That name. Oh shit.

“How the fuck did you get my number?” I spit into the phone, my hands turning clammy. Why is Frank Iero calling me??!

“Well, how the fuck not? I’m the Head Councillor!” Comes back the now annoyed voice, the husky undertones of it seeping into my earbuds. I try not to pay too much attention to it.

“Yeah, that’s what you say all the fucking time, man. Drop it. The label’s not gonna stick with you forever.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs. “Remember that demerit session?”

“Yeah,” I recall. “How do you know I’ve been discharged?”

He snickers. “I have my own ways. Well, then. See ya.” The connection goes off. And I’m left staring at the still ongoing television with an odd mixture of astonishment, fury and amusement. I have no idea what happened just now.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Location: School Library
Time: 3:28 pm, after school
Situation: Everything’s a piece of shit. Too much work and a fucking demerit session with fucking Iero.

“Argh!” I growl, slamming my Math book closed. I cannot take this anymore. Numbers, algorithms and reciprocal functions swim in a ghastly circle around my head as I try to regain my composure. But alas, that will be an impossible feat, given the monstrosity of the work I’m supposed to finish right now.

Too many topics missed. Too many papers to squeeze into my schoolbag. Too many letters. Too many numbers. Too many everything.

The librarian at the counter scowls at me, her plump lips pouting in a fashion that strangely resembles a cow. She wants to seem intimidating, but all it does is amuse me.

All around the small air-conditioned hall, there were layers of cupboards full of books and thick volumes for reference. Other than the two studious-looking students silently writing away side by side, the area seems just way too remote for my liking.

Letting out an exhausted breath, I glance at my watch for the time. There’s just two more minutes to detention with Frank. Hauling myself and my books up, I trudge towards the transparent entrance door, not before catching a sight of Frank and his girlfriend outside, hurrying past. Frowning, I decide to trail them silently. I close the library door behind me and inch closer to them, trying to make out what they’re saying to each other. They seem to be in a heated argument.

“Please, Nat,” Frank seems to be saying pleadingly. “I have nothing for him.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” the girl sneers. “First you grab him in the party, asking him to get inside of you. Next you visit him in the hospital?”

“Why not? It’s my responsibility to take care of the students. What you’re saying is complete bullshit, Nat. Not even proper evidence.”

“Well, never mind then. But you do have feelings for him, don’t you. I can feel it. You always seem to keep talking about him.”

“I don’t…I- Just, please! I need to get to the detention hall for his punishment now.”
“Ah, that too! You never call anyone to detention. You always leave people alone, you’re a pretty chill guy. But why this one, out of everyone?”

“Natasha-“

“Don’t do this nonsense with me, Frank. If you like someone, you break up with me. I’m only looking out for your own good. And I want to see you happy.”
“But what will the student body think of this?”

“Let them think of it in any way they want! Why do you care so much about what-“
Natasha gets cut off as Frank starts sprinting away to the direction of the detention hall, leaving her behind. She stops, flips her long brown hair and sighs heavily. And she turns around.

Everything around us is a pin-drop silence as she meets my eye, her own widening with shock. Her mouth is agape and she puts a shaky hand to cover it.
“G-Gerard…” Comes the muffled voice.

I shake my head stonily at her. I know exactly who she’s just been talking about, but I have no idea what it’s all supposed to mean. I’ve always loved answering inexplicable questions by myself in the head, but this time, I’m going to let all of them go. There are just too many.

Notes

Sorry for the shitty chapter, but it has to be this way. Next one will be the detention, and I promise you it'll be way better and more interesting.

It's a dramatic irony that's happening here-readers know what's up with Frank, but Gerard doesn't. And it's going to be a very long time before he even has a clue. Kind of uninteresting for you Frerard enthusiasts, but then again, I'm more of a descriptive writer than a drama-and-convo writer.

Do comment! Let me know what you think of it so far!