Tell Me I'm A Bad Man [Teacher/Student Frerard]

Two - I'm The One That You Loathe

The cigarette quickly burned down, and I put it out against the stone. And then I lit another one, sighing at the fact that there were only about five cigarettes left. Great. Just fucking fantastic. I needed more. A Frank without cigarettes was a Frank that nobody wanted to encounter.

But I couldn't be bothered to get anyone to get any now, so I just stayed where I was, and I smoked what I had.

~

"Iero!" I turned around and saw the Deputy Principal, who looked me up and down. He scowled at the eyeliner and the skinny jeans and the shoes, but nodded at the lack of piercings. "It's an improvement." He said, and then he walked away.

I flipped off his back, too tired to deal with his shit. I was just glad that I'd made the decision to skip yesterday, because I was tired and pissed-off and I ran out of cigarettes. So I stole my stepfather's, and turned up for school today. Which was Friday. Another exciting lesson with Mr Gerard Way. Not.

My first lesson was chemistry. Maybe it would be like Breaking Bad, and we'd all cook meth. Ooh, that would be exciting. And then we could take the meth and be high for our next lesson. I approve. I definitely approve.

Sadly, it did not seem like Breaking Bad when I walked into the classroom. The teacher was old, and he didn't notice that I'd walked into the room. He didn't even notice that I sat right at the back and slept for the whole lesson, thank fuck. These early starts are messing with my head.

I just wanted to get to art, and see how far I could push Mr Way today, but it wasn't until last period. I saw Mikey in the corridor once or twice, and smirked and saluted whenever I did, and he smiled. Almost as hot as his brother. Almost.

At lunch, I met Ray again, with Brendon, Patrick and Ryan, and this time there was another addition to the table, in the form of a slightly tanned, dark-haired guy.

"Frank, this is Pete," Brendon said, and Pete shot me a wink. "Pete, this is Frank."

"Good to meet you." Pete said, holding his hand out for me to shake. "Pete Wentz, baby; anything you need, give me a call." It was difficult to decide who was gayer: Pete or Brendon.

"Stop flirting with him, asshole." Patrick scowled, and Pete stuck his tongue out.

"Spoilsport."

"Quiet, you two." Ray said, sitting down with a plate of fries. "We've already got an old married couple at the table." He pointed at Brendon and Ryan, who were busy making out, and Pete picked up one of Ray's fries, throwing it at them. They broke apart, glaring at Pete, who pointed at me.

"Whoa, okay, it was Pete." I defended, holding my hands up in surrender. I wouldn't touch cafeteria food, even if it was on gold plates and served by the President.

"I know." Brendon said, throwing the fry back at Pete. "Stop it, you're being annoying."

"Okay, I'm gonna see if there's anyone I can make out with in the janitor's closet." He stood up, and then looked at me. "Up for it, Frankie?"

"Uh, maybe not." I said, and he pouted.

"Please?" I shook my head. "A little birdie tells me you like cigarettes. I'll buy you some."

"Sold." I stood up, and Pete grabbed my hand, pulling me from the cafeteria. On the way, we bumped into Gerard, whose eyebrows rose when he saw us.

"Where are you two off to?" He asked, and Pete shot his glance to me, smirking deviously.

"Uh, there's some urgent gossip that Pete needs to tell me, I must dash." Pete started walking again, and I called back, "I won't be late for class?"