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

It had been about four months since the end of the academic year, and therefore four months since I had seen Gerard. It was mid-September and I was nearing the beginning of my senior year of college. I was reflecting on this during the probably most inappropriate moment that a could; I was out on a date with my kind of boyfriend.

He had gone up to the bar to get us some drinks and I was just sitting at the table, swirling my noodles around my fork in my ramen bowl. I thought about Gerard a lot, but was finally getting the urge to pick up the phone and call him less and less. Once I began to let the thought of him go, I was able to actually focus on other guys in my life. The guy I was currently waiting on to get my drink had gone to high school with me. He’d been through all of the ups and downs, my old boyfriends. Ben had been friends with me before Anthony, but I started talking to him less and less when Anthony got his hold on me. I cut too many people out of my life because of that psychopath, and I hated myself a little bit for it.

Before I could wrap up my thoughts, Ben sat down at our booth, pushing a beer towards me. “What’s up? You look pissed off. Did I do something wrong?” He joked. I forced a smile back at him.

“Nah, it’s not you. Just thinking. It’s been a long week, you know?” I said. I took a sip of my beer, tapping my fingers on the glass nervously. “I just feel so on edge tonight. I don’t really know why.”

Ben reached across the table, wrapping his hand around mine. His thumb stroked mine reassuringly. “Hey, that’s fine. Just let me know what I can do to help, Charlotte, and I’ll do it.”

He was so sweet. I wish I had more feelings for him, because he deserved that. Maybe I hadn’t given myself enough time with all of these insane male figures going in and out of my life. Maybe then I would have been able to be happier with Ben. Deep down, I was really afraid it wasn’t going to work out, but I didn’t want to actually talk about that with him. I just needed to wait it out. I’d be able to love him.

I did actually have fun with him. We participated in the couples trivia game and Gerard didn’t cross my mind for the rest of the night. That is, until I saw him across the bar sitting next to another former professor of mine. The closer I inspected him, the more I realized there was no way that was actually Gerard. He was a lot taller, his hair was too long, and he had didn’t have a leather book bag. His shoulders were too square. Everything about him was wrong.

When Ben came back from the bathroom and snaked his arm around my waist to walk me home, my heart was fluttering in my mouth. I only wished it was because of Ben, and not because I had thought I had caught a glimpse of a former flame in the bar.


Ben had wanted to come in, and I was feeling guilty about the entirety of our relationship so I let him. He had fallen asleep while we were watching a movie so I just decided to let him stay over.

I was lying on my back. Ben had been out for a few hours. It was pitch black outside, but I couldn’t find my phone to actually get the real time. All I knew was I needed to buy more sleeping meds later that day. Maybe a shower will clear my thoughts. I untangled myself from the bed sheets and shuffled into the bathroom. Under the glare of the fluorescent lights, I didn’t have the motivation to wash my hair. But it would help.

After I sat on the floor of my shower and let the steamy water pound my back for a solid ten minutes, I felt better and a tad tired. I toweled off and changed into clean pajamas before heading back to my bedroom. Ben was still sound asleep when I slipped back under the covers with my back to him. I rubbed my eyes with my hands, inhaling the soothing lavender of my body soap in deeply. I loved when I smelled like soft, beautiful things instead of cigarette smoke.

I didn’t really sleep. Instead, I reflected on the past four months since I had seen Gerard. Seeing someone that looked almost like him had really put my head for a spin. The last time I had seen him was in the spring, maybe April, in his class. I realized I loved him in that moment. He was going on about something art related, but I wasn’t really listening to his words. I was listening to the way he talked faster and out of the side of his mouth, waving his hands wildly around the piece of art he was projecting up on the screen. So much passion. I loved and hated him in that moment.

And on that day, I made an even harder decision to drop his class. I went to the counseling office. They said it would set me back on my degree, but I said I would just take some extra work on in my last year and maybe do some work study. My counselor wasn’t thrilled, but she went ahead and did it. Maybe she sensed the desperation in my voice, or maybe she somehow knew what I was going through by the grace of God. Whatever it was, I left that office feeling like shit.

It had been almost two months since my relapse. I hadn’t gone to one of the therapists on campus because I was afraid of clauses in the confidentiality agreement. I wanted to tell them everything about Gerard, but I was afraid for his job. Normally it shouldn’t be a problem since we’re both adults at a university, but our campus was oddly restrictive about it. They wanted a safe learning environment. THe more I thought about it, the more sense it made. That didn’t mean it made me happy.

Over the summer I relapsed again. Badly. Not only with cutting, but I started getting crafty on where to put cigarette burns out. This resulted in me wearing long sleeves and jeans all summer. I saw a psychiatrist once, but that was solely to get a prescription for xanax and sedatives. They concluded I had major depression, social anxiety, and chronic insomnia. I began taking my meds with a glass of vodka every night. I successfully did this the whole summer without letting my parents or Jordy know. One night stands out.

I was sitting on my roof, looking out across Los Angeles. The smog disgusted me. I wanted to fly away from there. I didn’t want to go back to school. I didn’t want to deal with the fact that I have to redo fundamentals of art. I had just gotten a four month refill of my sedatives and was sitting on the roof with the still sealed jar and a bottle of whiskey. I tried talking myself into taking them all along with the whole bottle, but something held me back. I don’t know what it was.

I climbed down from the roof, took a shower, slept, and got up the next morning and dumped out all the alcohol I had left in the house.

I jolted back awake, in my old apartment with Ben. I had begun to drift into a dreamlike state, reminiscing about my near suicide attempt. As I lay next to Ben, I couldn’t help but feel ungrateful. We began dating a few weeks ago. It wasn’t there for me. But I was happy to have a warm body to sleep with. It calmed me down. I heard a buzzing sound from under the bed, realizing that’s where my phone must have slipped to.

From Frank Iero - 2:11 AM
Hey. I was just wondering if I’m going to see you around campus next week. Thinking of you, miss you bro.

My arm dangled off the bed above my phone. I didn’t know how to respond. I had kind of ignored Frank for the past 4 or so months. He reminded me of Gerard and I hadn’t been able to deal with anything like that. Which made me feel so dumb, because Gerard and I hadn’t ever dated. He was just the closest thing to home I had ever felt within a person. I pulled the phone off the ground, holding it above my face while I debated whether or not to reply.

To Frank Iero - 2:14 AM
I’ll be there. Second to last semester ever. Miss you too.

I decided to just keep it short. Maybe then he wouldn’t text me again. Don’t get me wrong, I loved hearing from Frank. He had been a good friend, even if we hadn’t known each other for too long. But he did text me back.

From Frank Iero - 2:16 AM
Good to hear from you. Been worried, ya know?

I wasn’t really sure what to say to that. It sounded like he wanted to keep talking. Leave it to me to overanalyze a simple text messaging conversation.

Eventually I drifted off to sleep. I had to go to campus the next day to get my schedule since my online advisor wasn't connecting at my apartment for some reason. I needed at least some sleep if I was going to go back to that campus again.

Apparently I wasn't the only one that was having Internet connectivity issues with the school website. I was last in line of maybe twenty people eagerly awaiting their schedules. When I got to the front of the line and sat down across the counselor, my heart sunk deep into my chest.

“No, I can't take his class. I have a problem with him. Is there anybody else who teaches that class?” I stammered, pushing the schedule back across the table with one finger quickly, as if I were afraid of touching it longer than I had to. The counselor across from me sighed through her nose, looking down at me over her glasses.

“Miss Payn, we don't exactly have another class for the fundamentals of art. We might have another one become available, but it would still be taught by Professor Way,” she said slowly.

“Is there another class I could take in place of this to fulfill the requirement?” I asked desperately.

Mrs. Cox took her glasses off her face entirely, folding them calmly between her hands. “Charlotte, you need this class to graduate. Hawthorn used to teach it but she isn't coming back, as you know. If anything else becomes available, you will be the first person I at notify.”

I thought I was going to start crying. I muttered a quick thanks to Shirley before I grabbed my schedule and marched off to the parking lot. I swear steam was pouring from my ears. I was about to wrench my car door open when I heard my name being called.

“Charlie Payn!” Frank was also walking through the parking structure. I groaned internally.

“Sup,” I said quickly, throwing my purse onto the passenger seat.

He stopped in front of my car, leaning onto the hood. “Well, you look pissed.”

I slammed my door shut again, as I had the feeling I was going to be here for a while. “Yes, I'm pissed, because I got stuck back into Gerard’s stupid fucking class again this semester. I don't want to fucking see him.”

Frank opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly. I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I whined, leaning back against my car door.

“Well, shit. Don’t know what to tell you, kid,” Frank said awkwardly, shoving his hands in his front pockets.

“I haven’t talked to him in five months,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

“Why?” Frank asked, playing the idiot. He knew why.

“Because I have the biggest crush on him and he broke my heart,” I said dramatically, putting my hand over my eyes. He shot me a look. “Humor is my coping mechanism or I would be dead by now.”

“Wouldn’t we all. Anyway, if you want to get coffee sometime this week before classes start to catch up, I’d be totally down,” Frank brushed his long brown bangs out of his eyes, looking at me expectantly.

“Yeah, sure. Just text me. I’m going to go home and deal with my boyfriend now.” I thought about Ben, probably just waking up in my apartment. I had left him a note telling him where I was going. I should feel a flutter of excitement telling Frank about my new boyfriend.

I didn’t.

“Boyfriend? Congrats. How long have you guys been together?” Frank raised his eyebrows. Images of Gerard raising his flashed through my mind.

“Three weeks? Four weeks?” I honestly couldn’t remember.

“Whoa, you don’t even know? You sound thrilled,” he remarked sarcastically. I sighed, looking down at my shoes.

“I was tired of being alone. Met him through my friend Jessica and he liked me so I went for it,” I explained. Frank was giving me another judgemental look. “I know that’s not how it’s supposed to go, but it’s...complicated. I haven’t ever really had a healthy relationship with anybody. Spent most of my high school years with a crazy guy who destroyed me. But Ben is nice. He’s a good guy. He is.”

Maybe if I said that enough I would start to love him for it.

“Mmm, a good guy, those are so hard to find. A nice guy. A plain guy. A vanilla guy. The fuck, Charlie?” Frank let out a giggle, slipping his book bag over his shoulder. “Look, we’ll talk more about it...tomorrow?”

“Sure. Let’s say noon.”

“Alright, sleepyhead. Hang in there,” he said, giving me a quick wink before crossing the parking lot to hop in his own black car. I got into my driver seat, sitting there while he drove away. I didn’t want to go back to talk to Ben. I wanted to talk to Gerard. I wanted to call him and see how he was and shoot the shit and tell him I loved him. That was what I wanted.

I wanted Gerard. I wanted to want Ben, but I didn’t. And those were the facts.

Notes