The Loser's Girlfriend [A Billie Joe Armstrong Fan Fiction]

Chapter Thirty-Nine: "Don't Hesitate To Tell Me, Alright?"

Whatever, I don’t think Gerard would mind that, anyway.

“Okay, Chelsea, calm down…Gerard’s just gonna pass by so I can help him with his Calc homework. It’s not like he’s going to be some sort of a fashion designer who would tell me what to wear and, what not to wear, right?” I reassured myself as I repeatedly raised my hands and pull them down slowly in an effort to calm myself down.

I shook my head and turned to the stack of books once again, pulling out my Calculus textbook and, the Physics worksheet from the orange organizer that I’ve recently pulled out from my closet.

Biting the white mechanical pencil that I’ve been using since God-knows-when, I had forgotten briefly how many minutes I had used up just sitting there, trying to figure out the formula for the problem that I’m currently on.

That is, until the loud and, familiar sound of the doorbell made its way to my ears.

I walked to the door and opened it, revealing a slightly dishevelled Gerard Arthur Way with his black Jan Sport bag, whom I let in at once.

“Come on in, Gee,” I mutter as soon as his face registered in my brain.

“Thanks, Chels,” he grins before doing so.

I shut the door carefully.

He took one good look at the room before turning around and his eyes got caught at the sight of my Winnie the Pooh onesie before he giggled.

Yes, fucking giggled.

“Your onesie’s cute!” he mentioned before sitting on the carpeted floor, near the stack of books that I’ve made approximately ten minutes ago.

“Thanks…I like your skeleton one, though…wanna exchange?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him and resumed the position I was in before.

“No thanks, hun,” he shook his head and I laughed.

My voice grew serious after a few moments, “so…what about Calc?”

-

An hour passed and, I’ve noticed that Gerard had already done some work by himself…he actually just needed clarification on his answers.

“You’re all good, Gerard,” I groan before laying my head against the seat of the couch behind me.

“Thanks,” Gerard smiled as his hands rummaged inside his bag for his correction tape for the second time since we had started going over his homework. I handed out mine and poked him with it.

“Here, use mine for now,” I mutter, obviously bored, keeping my hair off of my face.

He nodded at me and returned to his notebook, removing the cap from my correction tape as he did so. I watched interestingly as he drew a perfectly straight line over the phrase that he did wrong. He caught me looking at him.