The Story of a Man, A Woman, and the Corpses of 1000 Evil Students

I had to say I was surprised Gerard hadn’t texted me once during winter break. I had him for another Fundamentals of Art class during the spring semester, so I showed up on time the first day of term. I didn’t have a single class with Jessica this semester, which bummed me out.

But I supposed that was my fault for only having one close friend on the whole campus. I shot Frank a good luck on his first day text.

From FRANK - 8:58 AM
SHIT THAT’S TODAY?

From FRANK - 8:59 AM
Just kidding I’m totally in the teacher’s lounge feeling all professional.

I smiled down at my phone like an idiot. Fuckin’ Frank. I decided to be ballsy.

To FRANK - 9:02 AM
Nice. Is Gerard there?

My heart was hammering in my chest after I sent the text. Frank was inevitably going to make fun of me for it eventually.

From FRANK - 9:04 AM
He left a few minutes ago. What’s up with you guys?

I was assuming he was referring to neither of us talking over break. But I was determined to deny everything in the end. Taking a step and thinking about that, I realized I was being a stereotypical girl, but I really didn’t have the emotional capability to deal with Gerard right now, and the debate over whether a relationship existed or not. We never talked about it ever since the Friday of Thanksgiving break when we had a short lived make out session.

Never brought up again. Which would make me think that he regretted it, but his continued behavior around me served to counteract that point. So what was I supposed to do but deny everything and take it as it came?

To FRANK - 9:05 AM
I don’t know what you’re talking about?

From FRANK - 9:06 AM
He said you didn’t try to talk to him once over break.

To FRANK - 9:07 AM
He didn’t try to talk to me either! I didn’t want to bother him.

And why would Gerard even say that to Frank! It made me hot and bothered. But his class was supposed to start at 9:10. He walked in the room a few minutes after I sent that text to Frank with no reply, which was odd for Frank.

Gerard strode across the front of the classroom, not looking up until he set his leather bookbag down by his feet at his desk. He seemed to be regarding some papers left on his desk, then looked up as a smile trickled over his mouth to regard all of us in the room.

“Welcome back to hell. I’m Professor Gerard Way, this is fundamentals of art. You’re either a freshman taking this class to get it out of the way or a senior who put it off for too long, and I am seeing both of you in the seats.” Gerard stood at the front, his hands clasped behind his back. He opened a laptop on the podium and turned on the projector underneath. He hadn’t so much as looked my direction. Maybe he hadn’t seen me.

“This isn’t a hard class, but you can certainly make it hard for yourself. So be on time, do the work, do your best, and that honestly is all.” He dimmed the lights and began a standard first day lecture. He introduced the class, the rules, the timeline, the required books. I could’ve sworn his eyes brushed over where I was sitting once or twice, but...nothing.

He excused himself a few minutes early, so I didn’t even have the chance to catch up with him after class. My heart hung low in my chest as I shuffled out into the quad for an hour break before my next class.

As I sat out in the sun between the portable walls and the chain link fence Gerard had showed me on his first day teaching, I lit up a cigarette and breathed, splaying my legs out on the ground beneath me. It was only the last week of January and this year was sucking.

I checked my phone to see if Frank had replied-or God forbid, Gerard had texted me-but both were a no-go. I decided to text Frank.

To FRANK - 10:17 AM
Did something happen over break with him?

I figured it couldn’t hurt to at least ask. I didn’t want to just be like, What the fuck is up with Gerard? But I exactly wanted to be like WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH GERARD.

It took Frank about half an hour to reply. He probably had finished his first class of the day.

From FRANK - 10:49 AM
Ehhhh….???

Frank obviously didn’t want to get involved. I shrugged it off, finishing my cigarette and going about the rest of my day. I had a history of photography class up next.

Later that night when I was decompressing from the first day, my phone buzzed again.

From FRANK - 8:11 PM
Did you end up talking to him at all?

To FRANK - 8:12 PM
No. He’s avoiding me. It’s whatever. Please don’t say anything to him.

I was mulling over my complete class schedule over some notes from my photography class and a cup of chamomile tea. The next time I would see Gerard was Friday. I had his class Monday and Friday at 9:15 in the morning. The last day of term was May 27th. I hated how short the spring semester was; it made me feel rushed.


The rest of the week was uneventful. I tried talking to Frank some, but he seemed distant too. Which was fucking fantastic because I loved loneliness and being alone. I made it through the first week. It was Friday night and I was sipping from a bottle of Silver Agave tequila, a bowl of limes next to me. I was on my fifth season of rewatching American Dad and hated myself a little for it.

My head was spinning like a fucking Tilt-A-Whirl. I hauled myself to my feet using the arm of my sofa, shuffling to the kitchen to see if I could find some carbs to offset the dizziness. I hadn’t had much of an appetite this week, probably due to the upset that Gerard had-inadvertently or not-caused me. I filled up one of my old water bottles and downed it in four big gulps. I was also massively dehydrated. You’d think I’d learn, wouldn’t you?

It came as a surprise when I felt my phone vibrating under my thigh. I looked down at the caller. It was Frank. I picked it up, fumbling to put it to my face.

“Hello?” I giggled into the phone. “Shit.” I dropped the bowl of limes off the coffee table, scrambling to pick them up.

“Charlotte?” Frank questioned.

“Hold on I just-fucking-dropped my fucking limes all over the godamn floor,” I said slowly. “What’ssss happening, Frankie baby?”

“Yeah, not much,” he said trepidatiously. “Just checking in to see how your first week went. How are you feeling right now?”“Right now? Right now I’m fucking great. Couldn’t be better. Couldn’t be better than this, Frank.”

“Okay, sure. You been drinking?”

“Awww, only a little bit. Just celebrating the end of the year!”

“Don’t you mean week?”

“Week, year, I mean them all!” I started laughing. God, since when was I so fucking hilarious? I dropped my head onto the couch behind me, as I was sprawled on the ground from grabbing all my limes. “Limes roll really far.”

“They happen to be spherical objects. They tend to do that. Anyway, you have a goood night. Tell me if you need anything, okay?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill myself Anthony, jesus,” I said, before realizing who I was talking to.

“What?”

“No. Sorry. Old habit of mine. I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye Frank!” I said, hitting the “END” button faster than anything I’ve ever hit in my life. I just sat on the wooden floor for a while before sinking down onto my back, stretching my hands far above my head. That was a disaster. But you know what was more of a disaster? The fact that my tequila was out.

I should go on a walk to clear my head. Also, it’s pretty out right now.

It seemed like a perfectly good idea at the time. I pulled a jacket and boots on, grabbing my cigarettes from my kitchen counter before hopping down the stairs-staggering was more like it. I turned the corner out of the stairwell into the lobby at a higher than normal space and collided into someone’s solid chest.

“Holy shit! I’m so sorry!” I started laughing uncontrollably. “I was in a hurry and wasn’t-I wasn’t looking, oh my god!”

When I stepped back from wiping my eyes at the tears of laughter forming in the corner of my eyes, a familiar black haired face came into my view.

“Oh my god, Gerard!” I ran forward, tackling him in a hug. “Holy shit I missed you so much over break. Why didn’t you text me at all?” I stuck my bottom lip out, looking up at him.

“Um. I was busy. With school stuff. Grading. Planning.” Gerard’s eyebrows were knitted together as he looked down his pixie nose at me. “Charlotte, you fucking reek of tequila. Don’t tell me you were going outside like this.” He fixed a hand on my shoulder, turning me to the direction of the elevator.

“I ran out of tequila,” I scoffed. Gerard’s eyes widened, as they usually did with me. He regained composure, hammering the elevator call button with a slender pale finger. “What are you even doing here?”

“I was going to see Frank. We’ve been too busy to catch up this week,” he explained, keeping a firm hand on my shoulder. I spun around, wriggling out of his grasp, marching right up to his face.

“Not here to finally say hi to me? After weeks of hanging out everyday and suddenly nothing from you?” I said bitterly. He deserved it. “You didn’t even notice I was in your class!” His mouth thinned into one line.

“No, Charlotte, trust me I did. I-”

“Gerard I like you.” I slurred, my eyelids getting heavy. He looked genuinely sad. “Wow, geez, okay.”

“I’m sorry Charlotte. I like you too. I wish things were different! You’re eight, almost nine years younger than me and not only that...you’re one of my fucking students! I would get in so much trouble from the college board of directors. Charlotte, I really like you. Too much. But,” he said, his voice strained, “your college education is more important to me than me getting laid and selfishly indulging myself in you when you need to be focused on more things than me.”

“So you’re like...breaking up with me,” I said lowly.

“I can’t break up with you if we were never dating in the first place!” Gerard snapped at me, causing me to jump. The fire in his eyes immediately softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice.” I just stood there, frozen and open mouthed.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said in a monotone voice. I hardly recognized it as my own. I was on autopilot. I was seething. Fire was ripping from my chest. I was about to erupt. But he didn’t need to know that.

“Don’t say things like that, please,” Gerard whimpered. His face was contorted into one of pain and he almost reached out to hug me, but he caught himself and lowered his arms back to his sides. “I’m sorry. This is really hard on me, too.”

“Then why are you doing it?” I couldn’t help but hiss. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. “No. You’re right. It’s not like we were dating. This is better. This is good.” This is good. This is good. I kept repeating it over and over to myself as if I were trying to convince myself that it was true.

Just to make it sting all that much more, I stuck my hand out in his direction for a handshake. He looked up from it to my eyes, a broken expression on his face as he took it limply. I gave it a firm shake before dropping it, smiling and stepping out of the lobby into the waiting elevator.

“I’ll see you around campus then!” I didn’t wait for a reply before I slammed the DOOR CLOSE button. How humiliating. After almost three weeks of nonstop communication, lunches together everyday, and almost hooking up whenever we were alone or Frank left the two of us to our devices, he had decided that we shouldn’t keep it up. I made a joke about him breaking up with me, and that’s where it all started.

He claimed he was distracting me from my studies, and that it wasn’t ethical for him to have any sort of relationship with me while he was my superior. After all of those late night talks, breakfast meetups, and drawing each other. All of this.

Meaningless.

I got out on my floor, storming to my apartment. Maybe all of my anger was sapping any sort of drunken stupor I had hanging over me. I had only one goal in mind.

RED.

I knew the drawer where I stashed them away, in their neat plastic coffin. I ripped open the desk organizer, grabbing them and ripping it open. I ripped off my pants, sitting on the edge of my bed with an x-acto knife pinched between my thumb and forefinger. My heart was pounding in my chest, and tears were forming in my eyes. All I wanted was to see blood.

I woke up a few hours later curled up on the mat on my bathroom floor, my entire lower half a sticky, peeling red. It had to be about four in the morning. Every movement I made killed me. There were dried up puddles of blood on my linoleum floor. I gasped at the sight. The gravity of the situation was starting to sink in. I had just relapsed. I had just relapsed. Oh my god. I was so stupid. I was so worthless. Tears began to pour down my face silently. I was horrified. Despite the mind-splintering pain I jumped to my feet, grabbing a wad of tissues to moisten and start to clean up the mess and pretend it never happened.

Where was I supposed to go from here? What was I supposed to do? I felt like I had just run into a brick wall behind a fake door. My life was flashing before my eyes. I needed to drop out of college, one voice in my head thought.

NO. You’re about to start your senior year in a couple months. You can’t do that. That would be so stupid.

But would taking a semester off be the end of the world? Or should I just shoulder on through it and deal with it and worry about killing myself later, when I had a degree and was living far away from everything here. When I was in debt. After mopping up the rest of the mess, I smeared some neosporin on the deep gashes in my thigh I made. I was a mess. And this was all my fault.

Notes