Calories

Chapter Eleven

The rest of the school day basically sucks. People leave me alone during class though, and I'm grateful for that.

I make it to my locker without too much human interaction before a tall guy walks up to me.

"So you're the faggot everyone's been talking about all day?" he asks. I ignore him. I just need to get my stuff from my locker and go home. "Are you going to answer?"

"No I'm all set actually," I say. He pushes me against the locker but I try to remain calm.

"What was that?" he asks.

"You know, it'd be cool if you could let me go," I say. Before I know what's happening I feel his fist connect with my cheek. Damn, he sure can hit hard.

"I asked you a question and I expect you to answer." I don't say anything else. And he beats me shitless. Good going, me. You let a guy beat you up.

He hits me not only in the face, but also in the stomach a few times before letting me go and walking away. It hurts to stand up, but I do it anyways and open my locker. I feel people watching me, but none of them do anything to help.

I make sure I have everything I need from my locker before closing it and going to my car in the parking lot. Mikey's already at the car, waiting to be let in.

"What the fuck took so long?" he asks.

"Well, a guy sort of beat the shit out of me, so I guess that would take some time out of my day, don't you think?" I say.

"Oh." That's all he says? Someone just beat me up and my brother doesn't even care. I unlock the car and get in the driver's seat, and start the car. After Mikey's buckled I pull out of the parking lot and drive home. He doesn't say anything the entire ride and it reminds me of the car ride this morning.

We get home and when I open the front door a note falls out. It's a note from my mom saying that she was going to be home late from work and that we might have to make ourselves dinner.

That's fine by me. I can probably get away with not eating dinner. Also, if she's late then I have more time to try and hide any marks or bruises that I have. I look in the mirror. Of course I had to get a black fucking eye.

I look down at my phone when it buzzes, indicating that I got a text message. It's from Frank.

Frank: How are you?
Gerard: I'm good.
Frank: Wanna hang out?
Gerard: Sure.
Frank: My house or yours?
Gerard: My parents aren't home yet.
Frank: Your house it is.
Gerard: Okay.

Frank is so adorable. I'm assuming he left his house after that because he doesn't text me back. I lie down on my bed and wait for him to arrive. I could be doing homework but fuck that.

Frank shows up but lets himself in. He walks into my room and closes the door behind him before sitting down on the bed next to me.

"I was lonely," he says. I sit up and look over at him. He's so fucking cute. He gives me a soft, quick kiss on the lips and grins. He's so fucking perfect. His teeth when he smiles, his adorable hazel eyes, his perfect body, his perfect clothes. Everything about him is just amazing.

I kiss him on the lips harder than he did to me and he kisses back. He pulls away and looks at me.

"Fuck! Who gave you a black eye?" he asks.

"It doesn't matter. Just some tall guy. I'm fine," I say, trying to convince him. I had almost forgotten about what had happened earlier. Now that I'm reminded of it, my face around my eye feels achy and my stomach hurts where it was punched.

"Yes it does fucking matter. Did you hit them back?" Frank asks me.

"Of course not! I can't hit people! That's too violent," I say. No matter what, violence is never the answer. That's what I've always believed in.

"Well using self-defense is better than getting the shit beaten out of you. Where else did you get hit?" he asks me. Of course he knows I got hit more than once.

"Just the face and stomach. It's not a big deal," I whine.

"Let me see your stomach."

"No." He doesn't say anything back, he only glares at me. His facial expression tells me that I'm being a childish asshole. So I take of my shirt hesitantly. I don't want him to see me with my shirt off. Sure, he saw me shirtless just a few days ago, but that was different. There was no way he could have focused on how I looked when he was fucking me.

I finish taking off my shirt and I set it down next to me.

"Shit... You have so many bruises," he says. I look down at myself and see bruises spread all across my chest and stomach. There's more than I expected, but I'm not very surprised. The guy did hit me qutie a few times.

"It's not that bad," I lie. I know it's pretty bad. I expect him to say something back along the lines of "actually this is fucking terrible" but instead he leans forward and starts kissing each individual bruise. It doesn't hurt anymore than pressing on a bruise and it's such a cute gesture.

Normally kissing a person on their chest would be sexual but Frank makes it so innocent and all about making me feel better about getting beaten up earlier.

After kissing just about every bruise he sits upright and kisses me on the lips again. The kiss becomes more passionate and his lips are moving against mine in wonderful ways. I feel his tongue against my lips and I open my mouth a little wider so he has access to my mouth.

And then I hear my phone buzz. We both try to ignore it but I know it will go off again if I don't check it. I hesitantly pull away from Frank, not wanting the kiss to end.

I check my phone and it's a text from my mom. She's not going to get home until around 10pm which is also the time that my dad usually gets home. My mom usually gets home around 6pm, but she apparently has to work late and there's going to be traffic I guess. She wants me to go to the store and buy milk since she remembers there not being very much left.

"Frank, my mom wants me to go to the store to buy milk since she won't be back until like 10 tonight," I say.

"Okay. I'll go with you," he says. We get up and walk downstairs. I make sure to tell Mikey where I'm going before going outside, getting in my car, and leaving.

As soon as we get on the road I feel Frank's hand on my knee. Then I feel his hand slowly move up my leg until he's caressing my inner thigh. I try my hardest to ignore him and focus on driving but it's really hard when I see him turn towards me out of the corner of my eye and he places his other hand on my knee.

Frank's second hand starts sliding up my leg and so does his first hand. His second hand ends up where the first hand had just been and the first hand is now feeling me through my pants.

At this point I can't ignore him any longer. I pull over at the closest place I can and once I park the car his hand goes down the front of my jeans.

"Frank, what the fuck? I was trying to drive," I say, trying to stay serious.

"I like teasing you," Frank says as he takes his hand out of my pants. He unbuckles his seatbelt and does the same to mine.

"I could have crashed the car," I say, still trying to keep this argument going.

"I still owe you that bj," he whispers in my ear.

"This is ridiculous. We're on the side of the fucking road," I say. I try to push him away, but it's only a half-hearted effort. As much as I know it's unsafe for someone to practically give me a handjob when I'm driving, I'm not going to complain about receiving a bj.