Login with:

Facebook

Twitter

Tumblr

Google

Yahoo

Aol.

Mibba

Your info will not be visible on the site. After logging in for the first time you'll be able to choose your display name.

Exchange

First and Continued Impressions

Asher's Algebra teacher, to put it simply, was a dick. He had gone out of his way to embarrass Asher and her nationality, only to give her and Frank detention when he had called the teacher out saying he should "stop being an ass". Long story short, the ‘popular' kids of the school hierarchy laughed, dick teacher smirked, and Frank and Asher huffed. The bell couldn't have rung any sooner.

"You really shouldn't have said anything, Frank. I was fine," Asher told Frank as they manoeuvred themselves through the swarms of students.

"Hey," Frank huffed, "I was defending your honour. Not my fault chivalry is dead in this school," he defended as he shoved his way through a group of younger kids that had been standing in the middle of the hallway. They stared after them shocked, they looked like first years.

Sorry, Asher mouthed to the wide-eyed kids.

"Not all the teachers are like him, are they?" She asked, jogging to catch up to Frank. Damn, that boy moved fast.

"What? No. Not all of them. A fair few though. He's just one of those shit nuggets who like to pick on kids like me, ya know?" He shrugged, slowing and slinging an arm around Asher's shoulders. He did that a lot it seemed, but she could tell it was purely friendly. Asher quirked an eyebrow at the shorter boy's remark.

"Kids like you…?" She enquired. What the hell did he mean? He seemed like a perfectly friendly guy despite the punk appearance and smell of cigarettes that lingered around him.

"Aw c'mon, you know. Skinny jeans, tats' and hair dye. That sorta kid," he said, poking his tongue at a group of girls scowling at him and obviously bitching. Asher giggled at his childishness.

"Right. Well, stuff that asshole. You guys are way cool." Asher nodded as they came to a stop at her locker. "Wait, you have tattoos?" Asher asked, twirling around, excitement spread across her face.

Frank nodded, laughing at Asher, "Yeah," he replied, rubbing his neck, "I got a few actually."

"That's... awesome! Can I see them? Wait, no. Don't answer that. It was a weird question." Asher face-palmed, shaking her head and turned back to her locker.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Yeah, I can show y-" Frank stopped as he spied his watch and grinned, "We just got through all that chaos in three minutes!"

"That's a good thing because?" Asher was finding that Frank was one of those quirky go-happy characters who did not give a rats-ass about what other people thought of him. He also seemed a little hyperactive.

"Because it means no butt-fucking happened while trekking through those treacherous halls," Frank replied happily while picking something off the sleeve of his denim jacket. It looked suspiciously like gum - it hadn't been there before the hall-way adventure.

"You'd know about that, wouldn't you Iero?" A burly, blonde boy smirked from behind Frank.
He was sporting a small, almost healed graze on his cheek and a healing cut on his lip. He wore an eyebrow and a lip piercing, a multitude of jumpers and a taunting smirk.

"Oh, fuck off Roberto," Frank sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Don't call me that Iero," the guy growled.

Frank spun around to face the much taller boy, his shoulders tense.

"And what are you gonna do about it, Bob? Touch me, and you got my friends after you traitor."

So this is Bob
, Asher thought. The atmosphere around them was so tense, you could cut it with a knife.

Bob scoffed at the smaller boy, "Oh c'mon Frank. We outnumber you guys easy. You forget?"

Frank opened his mouth to retort before closing it quickly and scowling at the blonde.

"What's wrong Iero, cat got your tongue?" Bob laughed, "Better watch yourself. You and your little girlfriend here," Bob continued, jerking his head towards Asher. It was her turn to scowl. Asher hated guys who clearly thought they could scare people with a little threat. She decided she didn't like Bob very much.

Bob smirked and walked off, leaving the two at Asher's locker.

"So that's Bob," she said, breaking the silence.

"Yep," Frank replied shortly. He leant against the adjacent locker, waiting for her to get her books for her next period. Art. She thanked God that there was a ten-minute break. Getting used to this place was hard.

"Oh good, there's Patrick," Frank said, still no hint of a smile on his features, "Oi, Patrick. Take Asher to Art, would you? I gotta go and… yeah." Frank said, beginning to back away as he shrugged.

"He's not out there," Patrick answered, confusing Asher. He already held a book thick with what must have different pages of sketches.

"He's not?" Frank asked, a hint of disappointment evident in his voice.

"No. My guess is the guy didn't wanna miss one of the only classes he enjoys," Patrick shrugged.

"Yeah. Yeah true. Well, I'll just go to class then... Laters." Frank answered, turning away with his hands in his pockets. He was beginning to remind Asher more and more of a lost puppy.

"What's got him so down?" Patrick asked, turning to Asher.

"I met Bob."

"Ugh of course," Patrick rolled his eyes and adjusted his fedora, "You good to go?"

"Yeah… you sure we're in the same class?"

Patrick sighed, "Frank wouldn't have got me to take you if I wasn't," Patrick reasoned.

"Hey?"

"Hey?" Patrick asked, "Why are you saying hey as a question?"

"Oh, sorry. Uh, what do you mean?"

"Ah, Australian thing. I get it. Well, Frank doesn't like asking other people to go out of their way. He would rather waste his own time than someone else's. Like, even if I were in the class next to yours, he'd still take you himself," Patrick rambled quickly. It was like him explaining the school hierarchy all over again.

As they shoved their way through the halls – Patrick didn't seem to have the knack for getting through the crowds as Frank did, then again, Patrick didn't look anywhere near as intimidating as him – Patrick chattered the entire time. He was a talker, Asher found out pretty quickly. The blond-haired boy seemed to know what people would ask before they'd even opened their mouths. She liked him already.

They arrived at the art classroom with kids leaning against the wall, one of those being none other than Gerard Way still clad in his leather jacket despite it being considerably warmer inside, the healing bruises and cuts on his face more evident under the fluorescent lights. He leaned on the wall, foot propped up against it behind him, arms folded and wore the most bored expression on a face Asher had ever seen. That was until he glanced over at a trio of girls clearly talking about him and winked at them. They giggled, and Gerard turned away smirking, rolling his eyes slightly. He was really reinforcing the whole "reputation" Terry had mentioned. Asher still wasn't sure she liked him very much. He was obviously people watching until Patrick called out to him.

"Hi Gerard. Long time, no see."

"Hey, Pat. Yeah, I guess you could say that" Gerard greeted, before spotting Asher and grinning lopsidedly, "Hello Asher."

She was surprised he even remembered her name, to say the least.

"Gerard," Asher greeted, no smile on her face.

"Ooh icy," Gerard shivered, mocking Asher's apparent discontent with him. She rolled her eyes and was about to explain herself when two boys interrupted them by each jabbing Patrick on either side of his ribs causing Patrick to jump and yelp in surprise. Asher recognised one of them as Brendon, the other boy she didn't remember. He was outrageously tall, dark-haired and quite attractive. Asher was beginning to realise that a fair few of them were. Don't go making assumptions, she wasn't interested, she was just making observations. Asher did that a lot, what with people watching being one of her favourite past-times. Besides, exchange students were strictly told they weren't allowed to date on these things.

"Hey Fedora! Bye Fedora!" Brendon cackled, saluting Patrick before strutting off. Yes, strutting. He was obviously aware of his "status" as Patrick had put it. Suddenly, the boy with the eyeliner – Pete she remembered – came pelting around the corner.

"Pat look out! Brendon and Dallon!" He skidded to a halt. "Oh. They beat me." He said, disappointed as he spied the tall boy who must have been Dallon.

"You know, you really should be here to defend your friends," Dallon said in quite a know-it-all manner.

"Shut up Dallon." Pete laughed, shoving the much taller boy.

Dallon laughed before spotting Gerard, "Well, hello Way."

"Weekes," Gerard nodded.

Dallon opened his mouth to say something to Pete and then spied Asher.

"Oh hi! Who's this?" Dallon asked Patrick surprised.

"Dallon Weekes, meet the Australian Asher Ryan. Asher Ryan, meet the American Dallon Weekes," Patrick introduced.

"Whoa! Australia? Cool. Exchange?" Dallon asked, clearly impressed.

"Yeah. Just for the year," Asher nodded.

Dallon seemed nice enough. He wore a leather jacket and a beanie, his hair pressing against his forehead, and by god was he tall. He could most definitely be able to see over everyone's heads in the hallway.

"Well then, let's hope we make it a fun year," Dallon grinned.

Suddenly, a quirky looking teacher poked her head out the door and beckoned them all inside. Asher took an immediate liking to her. She wore an abundance of scarves, a bright, shin-length skirt, doc martins over the top of tights adorned with cats and a mustard yellow knitted cardigan. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and her eyes seemed to twinkle with fun. She was on the plumper side but was young. Early twenties maybe? Her name was Miss Forrest.

"Okay, welcome back, blah, blah, blah. Let's skip formalities and get straight into class rules for the newbies. Earphones I'm cool with, as long as it doesn't get me in trouble. Next, you have no boundaries, your imaginations are the limit! No supplies are off limits unless you wreck it. That is something that will break my heart." Miss Forrest smiled kindly at the class before tapping her chin with her finger. "I think, today since you've all come back from holidays, you get to manipulate something with art. Draw it and then destroy it. Make the mountains you saw crumble and the hotdogs you ate fly. I don't care. Just make it fun! Kapiche? Go!"

Most of the kids went straight into the paints and brushes, but Asher stood there with no clue what to do.

"Yo Ash, come sit here!"

Asher turned to see Pete beckoning her over to paint stained couch with a table in front. She grinned and went straight over, plopping herself into the space the boys had made for her between Patrick and Dallon.

"So, what's the plan boys… and lady? I feel like some team collaboration is in order," Pete said, rubbing his hands together.

"Oh definitely. I think we should re-create something that appeared after these holidays," Dallon replied and turned to Patrick, leaning around Asher. "Pat my friend, how would you feel about giving your fedora a portrait?"

Asher laughed, these guys were certainly something. They all looked so different: Punk-emo, subtle punk and part hipster, but they bonded so effortlessly. She couldn't see why they weren't liked by everyone.

After a good twenty minutes, the sketch was complete. It was ridiculous. It was going the be the black fedora melting into a puddle of colour. Tiny, colourful alien creatures flying out of the top. Miss Forrest laughed and told them to go for it. For now, Asher was content to watch the boys grab watercolour and go crazy. Eventually, though, her gaze began to flit around the room. Everyone seemed to be in different groups, not all drawing. Just making conversation about who knows what.

As her eyes wandered over to the table next to them, she saw Gerard. Yeah, she knew he was in art, but she wasn't expecting to see him so immersed in his work. Maybe just sit in the back of the class and rudely ignore the teacher? But was quite the opposite to the scene Asher saw. His brow was furrowed as his hand moved in quick strokes.

Asher was dragged out of her trance by a continuous tapping on her shoulder. Pete.

"Asher, Asher, Asher."

"Yes, Pete."

"You don't have to feel obliged to stay."

"Oh… sorry." Asher said, feeling a little hurt.

"Dude, you sounded like an ass!" Dallon scolded the other boy and whacked over the back of the head. "What he was meant to say, was that you haven't spoken the whole time. You're allowed to go do your own thing if that's what you want," Dallon smiled and leant back down to draw more tiny aliens.

"Oh. Thanks. I reckon I'll go draw something where there's more room to sit."

Dallon nodded, and Asher walked over to where the watercolour pencil boxes were stacked. Looking around the room, Asher realised there were only two seats left in the classroom, and they were both on either side of Gerard Way. She internally groaned before hesitantly walking over to the other boy. She was also aware of the wide-eyed stares she was receiving from the girls in the corner of the room. One was even smirking. But one thing was for sure, they all seemed to be watching expectantly.

"Um, Gerard? Is it all good if I, uh, sit here?"

Gerard didn't answer, in fact, the only reaction she got was him putting his arm around the artwork in front of him, obstructing her view. Asher huffed, shrugged and sat down anyway. Stuff him. If he didn't want her sitting there, he should have said so.

Asher sat herself down, popped her earphones in, played a Greenday playlist and began to draw, conscious of the girls who seemed to be staring daggers into her head. She sketched the outline of a plane window as if you were looking out of it. The plane wing divided the picture: the left she was going to make darker while the front was misty and more light. Positive, but unsure. It represented her flying to America, behind her was a relief to get away from, in front was excitement and mystery. She was happy to say it didn't look too shabby.

"Ahem."

Asher looked up to see Gerard staring at her with an eyebrow raised expectantly.

"Yes?" She asked taking an earbud out, annoyed and slightly confused.

"I was asking if I could use your red," Gerard stated, clearly irritated himself, "I don't have a crimson."

"Yeah, whatever. Go for it," Asher replied, nodding towards the pencil palette.

If he didn't come across as such a nonchalant ass, she would have taken the time to find which red crimson actually was out of the five different reds in the box. However, Gerard was coming across as a nonchalant ass, so she just looked back down at her work.

Asher could feel Gerard staring at the side of her head as if he was boring holes into the side of it. Eventually, he huffed and leant right over her artwork – as she was trying to sketch – and plucked the pencil from its spot. She was expecting him to maybe pull the box over since the reds were on the side furthest away from him, but no.

The smell of his cologne, cigarettes and somehow coffee filled her nostrils he leant directly over her work. Part of her hoped he got the wrong pencil so he'd look more like an idiot than an obvious dick, but alas he had picked the right pencil.

Asher looked over, eyebrow raised, to see he was smirking behind the messy black hair that had fallen around his face as he continued his work. She huffed and shook her head. He was unbelievable, and if she had to keep sitting next to him in art, she wasn't going to be overly happy. Hopefully, this place wasn't the same as back home, and kids changed seats every class… but she wasn't going to count on it.

Chemistry and Biology couldn't have gone any slower. It turns out Asher had already learned everything they learning this semester, titrations and water quality and the human reproductive system. But at least that way she had an edge – thank god for already finishing year twelve back home. Unfortunately, the chemistry teacher was also an asshole to most of the class and Gerard was also in it. Double whammy? Try triple. The teacher had assigned lab partners, and guess who Asher was paired with? None other than ‘fucking Gerard Way'. Thankfully, the first few lessons were going to be theoretical, so hopefully, the moody punk would be shone in a new light before practicals began. Asher hoped he would anyway.

So really, lunch could not have come any sooner and wasn't that an ordeal! She walked into the hallway to see even more chaos than the last three times. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Just as she turned the way she was ninety per cent certain was the right direction, a voice called her name. A very familiar voice, actually.

"Asher. Hey Asher! Turn around," It called, but over the ruckus of the other students filling the halls, Asher wasn't able to pinpoint exactly who it was.

"Listen to the sound of my voice Australia!"

By now, there were a few people laughing and some exchanging looks, some even grimacing at the direction the voice called from.

Asher shrugged and walked in the direction of the voice – she had a hunch it was Frank. Lo' and behold Frank was grinning accompanied by a small group of boys: Gerard, Mikey and two others she didn't recognise.

"I convinced Gerard to wait," Frank explained, bumping the taller boy with his shoulder, "and I figured you'd need some direction to the cafeteria?"

"Oh, um, thanks, Frank. You really didn't need to." Actually, Asher was thrilled Frank waited, not so thrilled that Gerard had rolled his eyes in irritation when Frank scolded him.

"Asher, you don't understand – walk and talk – this place is ruthless," Frank explained as he flung an arm around her and Gerard's shoulders despite being the shortest of the three, "I'm not having you stranded in the hallway only to eventually find the cafeteria and starve," he explained. Frank was definitely hyperactive, but he certainly knew how to manoeuvre through the sea of teens because Asher found herself back at her locker in no time.

"Frank, you're a little overdramatic, aren't you?" Gerard questioned, smirking and quirking an eyebrow.

Frank only scoffed at Gerard before once again playing escort to them. Asher noticed Mikey and apparently his friends had left, leaving her with the two intimidating looking boys, one really being an absolute child and the other an ass.

The cafeteria was like a whole other world. It was loud and full of movement. Currently, a large group was clumped in the middle, easily identified as the jocks and cheerleaders. Asher spotted Bob in the mix.

The three were quickly joined by Pete and Patrick who were chatting heatedly about some people in the grade were still dating. Based on Asher's experience of the two, she would side with Patrick if asked. He seemed to be the eyes and ears of the school and know it's deepest darkest secrets.

"Food! Who's hungry?" Frank interrupted, walking back towards the cafeteria line up.

"Stupid question Frankenstein," Pete laughed, patting Frank on the shoulder and striding towards the line. Patrick shook his head and trailing behind.

"Uh, I'm not that hungry. Big breakfast I guess. I'll make sure you've got a seat," Gerard said, rubbing the back of his neck and seeming to avoid Frank's eyes.

"Okay… save a seat for Asher!" Frank called after Gerard as he sauntered off, kids giving him a wide berth as he strode past, again, Asher noticed with a slight limp. He must really have a reputation.

"C'mon, lets cut in with Pat and Pete."

Frank sped off, Asher trailed behind as fast as she could without running into anyone else.
Eventually, they had their food, and Asher was enjoying meeting and eating with the rest of the group. Or, at least, most of the "lunch gang". She'd met Nicole, a laid-back blonde who seemed to be very skater chic, but was definitely someone Asher could talk to easy. There was Spencer, a quiet boy who smiled politely and continued to chat with some other guys in the table over. There was also a boy named Ryan. He was quirky and cool. Softly spoken but tended to um and uh. There were plenty of others, but they were over on the connecting table.

Frank patted Asher on the head and went to sit over with Gerard, Mikey and some others at the end of the table. Patrick beckoned for her to sit next to him.

"We're missing a few, but this is most of us. You haven't met Brendon yet, but don't worry. He'll make himself known soon enough."

Pete snorted at Patrick's comment but continued to eat his food.

Asher was pleasantly surprised, the food was nowhere near as bad as what she had read and watched in the movies. It was decent, if not a little stale or cold, but at least she was able to get enough to get her through the rest of the day. She was starving!

Note to self: bring snacks to store in locker.


Again, Asher people watched. Listening and observing, trying to get tabs on what was what as soon as she could. Her focus was interrupted by a very loud someone certainly making an entrance – the boy had jumped onto the empty spot she was sitting next too. But it wasn't just anyone, it was Brendon Urie.

"Sup fuckers! Ya' miss me?" He shouted, grinning broadly. Dallon sat next to Brendon, the louder boys legs now a wall between Asher and the taller of the two. It didn't obstruct her view from Dallon shaking his head though.

"Jesus Christ Urie, two days away with a head cold and you think we forgot about you? Just so you know, you're are literally the hardest person to forget about," replied Pete with an eye roll.

"Oh c'mon, one of you must have missed me. Ryan, baby?" Brendon looked at Ryan, who was sitting directly across from him.

Ryan groaned, sinking his face into his hands, "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" He complained, annoyance obvious in his groans.

"Uh… what?" Asher whispered to Patrick.

"It's a long story, but I'm sure the three of them would just love to tell you, Asher. Wouldn't you boys?" He said loudly. All three boys had heard him.

Dallon snickered into the back of his hand, Brendon grinned widely and dropped back into his seat and Ryan whipped his head out of hands quick as lightning and wide-eyed.
"No." He said, horror clear on his face.

Asher looked between the boys in wondering amusement, a smile beginning to spread on her lips.

"Oh c'mon, everyone else knows the story," grinned Brendon.

"No, no," Ryan answered, pointing at each of them with each word.

"Who am I telling anyway?" Brendon asked, looking at Dallon.

"Why this lovely Australian dame of course," answered Dallon, gesturing towards Asher and causing her to laugh.

"Australia? Whoa!" Brendon looked at Asher and smiled brightly, "Well hi there. The name's Urie. Brendon Urie." He introduced himself as if he was James Bond.

"Rian. Asher Rian." She imitated, earning a chuckle from the enthusiastic boy.

"Asher huh? That's a very differently cool name. Way better than Brendon… Is that normal for Australia?" Asked Brendon, getting off track. Out of the corner of her eye, Asher could see Ryan relax slightly.

"Well… my name is actually Ashley, but I hate it." Asher explained.

"Say no more. I completely understand. Asher Rian sounds way better anyway," Brendon winked. He was clearly flirting. "But at the mention of the name Rian, why don't I tell you a wonderful story involving the gorgeous George Ryan Ross the III over there?"

Ryan switched his gaze at Brendon, and realising there was nothing he could do from stopping it, he groaned and banged his head on the table, keeping his face tucked in his arms.

"Oh, the poor baby," cooed Dallon, causing a groan from the brunette and a chorus of laughter at the table.

Most of them were listening now, Asher noticed even Gerard was tuning in, leaning back against his chair with his arms folded, a smirk on his face.

"It all started at the Halloween carnival last year. Ryan, one of the biggest wusses I know, Dallon and I went into the haunted house along with a bunch of other kids," Brendon gestured to the jock and cheerleader table, "and they have never forgotten. You see, I love getting scared, so does Dallon… Ryan does not. The poor baby kept leaning on me when he got scared. Ever since then, they've thought we were in a love triangle."

"It's a never-ending rumour," groaned Ryan.

"Only because Brendon and I play along with it," Dallon explained with a shrug.

"In my defence, I have never watched a horror movie before!" Ryan butted in, "And the idiots we were with don't recognise the natural instinct of fear and saw it as, uh… passionate devotion."

Ryan was obviously embarrassed, but Asher could tell he was telling the truth.

"Damn," Asher responded, "that sucks. I've never seen one either though." She shrugged, trying to ease Ryan.

"Wait, are you serious!?" chimed in Pete.

"Yeah?" Asher replied.

"Frank! We have a problem!" Pete yelled at the end of the table.

Frank, who was halfway through taking a large bite of an apple, looked up, wide-eyed.

"What?" He yelled back, muffled because of the mouthful of red apple.

"Asher hasn't watched any horror movies!"

"What?!" Frank asked surprised.

"Hey, neither has Ryan," Asher reasoned.

"Yeah, but we were never able to make him. He's too stubborn and shuts his eyes throughout the entire things," Pete waved dismissively.

"Okay. This is what's gonna happen," Frank said, still chewing on his apple, "We will have a horror movie marathon this Friday!" He nodded, grinning. "Sound like a plan Asher?"

"I dunno… I'm not a huge fan-"

"No, I'm sure you'll love it."

"Um, okay? I'll have to ask my exchange family first."

"Okay. Sounds good! I'll meet you out front of the school to go through details."

Just as Asher was about to respond, the bell rung, signalling the next class.
Phys Ed.








Notes

I know it's quite mundane at the moment, but I like to set everything up before I get into the story.
Thanks for reading, please don't hesitate to voice any tips, ideas and/or opinions.

KayXo








Comments

@less16candles
Thank you so much. That means a lot. Should be continuing soon

cKayE cKayE
9/16/18

This is so good so far!

less16candles less16candles
9/16/18