These Friday Night Lights [2/3]
Part One | Part Three
“Mikey, wake the fuck up!” Gerard yelled shaking his sleeping brother. “We’re going to be late!” Mikey mumbled something incoherently, rolled over, and removes one of his arms from under the covers just enough to swat at his brother, making contact with a faint thump. Gerard lets out an indignant squawk and rubs the side of his head.
He was still standing next to Mikey’s bed though, for a few minutes longer he decides, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Gerard lets out a sigh of annoyance and pulled out his phone, checking the time. “Fuck,” he mumbled staring at the 7:20 a.m. blinking colored lights mocking him. They’re going to be really late now.
He mumbled angrily under his breath about and started poking at his brother’s boney shoulder before sighing. Gerard rolled his eyes and said, “Alright Mikeyway, you asked for this,” and pulled out his iPod, sets it on the dock that Mikey has set up, and shuffled through it until he found the right song.
As the beat started to play through the speakers, he cleared his throat, tapped his feet to the beat, and started to sing. All the single ladies, all the single ladies. All the single ladies, now put your hands up, up!”
“Alright, I’m up! I’m up,” Mikey yelled bolting up from his cocoon of blankets and covering his ears. “Please stop singing!”
Gerard stopped the music abruptly but sings one more line complete with a hip shimmy and smiled gleefully at his brother’s mad scientist bed hair. “You have five minutes Mikey!” he yelled over his shoulder as he walked out of his brother’s room.
On his way down the stairs Gerard could hear his brother’s angry mumbling mixed with a lot of loud smashing noises. “What did you do to your brother this time Gerard?” Mrs. Way asked pouring out three cups of coffee into some superhero mugs.
“Nothing Ma,” Gerard said grabbing his favorite Batman cup and taking a grateful sip of the warm liquid. A loud crash sounded from upstairs followed by a string of curses.
Donna sighed and shook her head at her boys. “Why do I have trouble believing you Gerard?”
The boy in question just shrugged his shoulders, smiled innocently at his mom, and gives her a kiss on the cheek before screaming, “You’re five minutes are up Mikey!” to his brother and walking out the door.
Mikey comes barreling down the stairs, hair looking like a birds nest, his jacket open carelessly and hanging off one shoulder with his book bag dragging across the floor yelling, “It hasn’t been five minutes yet jackass!”
“Language Mikey!” Mrs. Way shouted from the kitchen.
“Sorry Mama!” Mikey screamed back slamming the front door behind him on his way out of the house.
As Mrs. Way sat down at the table with her coffee and the paper she heard the muffled sounds of her boys still arguing, the slamming of car doors (she was always getting after those boys for slamming doors) followed by the roar of an engine, and the squeal of tires burning rubber.
Then, complete and utter silence. The only sound heard was the constant sipping noises and the ruffling of the newspaper.
Mrs. Way sighed happily, a gentle fond smile gracing her face and shook her head, her black curls bouncing. “I love my boys.”
*
Frank’s morning was not going well.
It had all started when he didn’t get up on time because his alarm clock never went off, and by the time he got up he only had time to take a quick five minute shower. But his mom used all the hot water when she had gotten ready this morning, so he was stuck freezing his balls off under the iced cold water. She had also forgotten to tell him they were out of coffee and his fake bacon. Even though he had just went to the store after practice yesterday, so he couldn’t even eat breakfast. To make matters even worse his car wouldn’t start, the bus obviously couldn’t see him, and it started to rain while he was walking to school.
“What in the hell happened to you?” was the first thing Bob asked when he saw Frank walk in late to homeroom. He received an angry glare in return. The blonde stuck up his hands, palms out in front of him in that ‘hey I’m innocent’ gesture and said, “Hey, I mean no harm dude.”
Frank growled as his classmates snickered when his shoes started to make squeaky noises when he walked over to his desk next to Bob to sit down. “I’ve had a really fucking bad morning Bob.”
“I can see that.” Bob told him and laughed when Frank just flipped him the bird and slammed his head down on his desk, water droplets flinging off his hair and onto the person in front of him. “At least it can’t get much worse.”
Frank puffed out a chuckle against his desk and mumbled a sad, “I guess that’s true.”
“Never doubt me boy,” Bob replied mocking their football coach and patted his friend on the head in comfort. He pulled back quickly though, wiping his hand on the dry spot on the back of Frank’s shirt to get the water off.
Frank lifted his head off of the desk and smiled slightly; he even let out a little snicker. Bob counted that as a win; he really hated seeing his manic friend depressed. He makes everyone around him that much happier, it’s the exact opposite when he was sad. It’s almost like everything was drooping and miserable. And that made for an even harder day at school.
The rest of homeroom went on like that; Frank frowning miserably, head down on the desk his hair curling at the base of the neck where it finally started to dry, and Bob sitting at his desk staring blankly off into space hoping they were having burgers for lunch.
It wasn’t until the bell was about to ring signaling the end of homeroom, that Bob noticed all the students in the room were whispering quietly to each other, pointing at Frank and giggling like school girls, then turning around in their chairs not so stealthy to stare at his brown haired when they thought no one was looking.
“Frank,” Bob murmured poking him in the shoulder repeatedly, muttering his name in-between every poke until he woke up with a start, drool sliding down from his open lips. “The bell rang like three minutes ago dude, we’re gonna be so fuckin’ late to Math.”
“Shit,” Frank yelled bolting out of his desk so fast that he knocked his knee on the metal side and crumpled to the floor in pain. “God dammit! That fuckin’ hurt like a bitch.”
Bob chuckled at his short friend rolling around on the floor, his knee bent up near his chest almost tucked underneath his chin, arms wrapped tightly around it and his face scrunched up in exaggerated agony. “Get up you big baby, Kerns is gonna kill us,”
“Can I get some help here please,” Frank asked sticking his hand out for Bob to grab.
Bob just laughed and shook his head. “Fuck no; you can get up by yourself. I’m going to class,” he replied picking up his books and walking out of the now empty classroom.
“Fuck you asshole!” Frank shouted after his blonde friend as he got up off the floor and followed Bob out into the hallway, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
As Frank made his way through the hallway, nearly running to get to class on time, he couldn’t help but notice all the obnoxious giggling and the pointing that he was getting. Figuring it was his not so grand entrance this morning, he let it slide. He’d ask Bob about it in Math, if he got there on time that is. Mr. Kerns was a real stickler about students being in his class on time and if Frank was late again, he won’t be sitting anywhere near Bob.
“Cutting it really close today Mr. Iero,” Mr. Kerns declared, his back turned towards the board as Frank slipped in through the barley open door of his math class just as the late bell rang out.
“I couldn’t imagine being late to your class Mr. Kerns,” Frank replied sarcastically, weaving through the rows of desks to the empty one in the back next to Bob.
“Alright class, since Mr. Iero decided to grace us with his presence,” Mr. Kerns said turning towards his class and making a hand gesture at Frank. “I think I’m going to give a pop quiz.”
There was a loud rumble of angry grumbling throughout the room, students glaring spitefully at a sheepish looking Frank as the teacher handed out the quiz. “Nice going Iero,” Bob muttered slapping his friend lightly on the back of the head.
Frank sputtered hazel eyes wide in shock, rubbing the back of head. “I - I didn’t do anything!”
“No talking!” Mr. Kerns shouted as he hands out the rest of the quizzes.
Frank makes a straggled noise in the back of his throat and looked down at the sheet of paper on his desk. “Shit,” he mumbled and dropped his head on the desk with a noisy thump.
After the pop quiz, Mr. Kerns turned off a set of lights and started teaching something about triangles. Most of the students were taking notes and listening to the teacher drone on about the Pythagorean Theorem, while some of them murmured to each other, looking back at Frank.
“Hey Bob,” Frank whispered, poking his blonde friend in the arm. When Bob didn’t answer he poked him again. “Bob…”
“What the fuck do you want Iero?” Bob asked after a few minutes enduring Frank’s poking for as long as he possibly could.
“Is there something on my face?” the brown haired man questions, rubbing at his face.
Bob sighed and turned to his friend. “Not that I can see,” he answered bemused, shaking his head. “Why?”
“People keep whispering and pointing at me,” Frank told his friend, hunching his shoulders.
The lineman rolled his eyes and said, “I’m sure they’re not gossiping about you,” But a quick scan of the room confirmed that just about half of the class were pointing and laughing at his friend. “Okay, so maybe they are.”
Frank laughed sarcastically and glared at the blonde. “No shit asshole,” he replied irritably, flicking off the group of girls that were looking over at him.
“Don’t get snarky with me,” Bob advised him jokingly, jotting down the formula Mr. Kerns told his class they had to know for the test they would be having next week.
Frank mocked his friend sullenly as he wrote the formula on the top of the blank sheet of paper on his desk. When he was done, he turned to Bob and started poking him again.
“What Frank?” Bob asked annoyed, he was actually trying to pay attention to what the teacher was teaching them.
His short friend pouted. “You are a mean man Bob Bryar,” he informed him and turned back to the front of the class to try and pay attention to whatever Mr. Kerns was going on about.
That only lasted about five minutes though. “Bob,” he muttered kicking his friend’s shin this time instead of poking him.
“Yes Frank?” Bob responded sighing. At least he got five minutes of quiet, that’s all he could ask for.
Frank shifted uneasily in his seat, frowning at the couple across the room that started laughing and pointing at him trying - and failing - at being discreet. “What do you think they’re laughing at?”
*
Jon really, really hates being ignored. Especially when it’s his good friend (and crush) Spencer that’s ignoring him.
“Spencer, come on. I thought we were over this!” Jon yelled down the hallway as Spencer walked away from him. Again. “I’m sorry?”
“Trouble in paradise?” Greta asked patting Jon on the shoulder gently as he dropped his chin to his chest. All she got in reply was an incomprehensible noise and the shrugging of shoulders. “Do you want me to talk to him for you Jon?”
The bearded man picked up his head so quickly he almost got whiplash. “Would you please?”
Greta smiled white teeth just visible behind pink lips. “Of course I will,” she said tucking a piece of her blonde hair behind her ears. Jon grinned and opened his mouth to thank her, but she cut him off. “But, you need to tell me what you did wrong so I can fix it.”
His grin melted right off his face. “I didn’t do anything,” he whined, stomping his right foot like a child.
The blonde gave him a look then shrugged her shoulders. “Then I guess I can’t help you,”
“Fine,” Jon said pouting, then paused and looked down. “I might have made fun of Ryan the other day.”
“And why did you make fun of Spencer’s best friend?” she asked confused. “I thought you liked Ryan.”
Jon sighed and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I do but,” he paused for a second to think, stuffing his hands in his pockets looking guilty. “It kind of just slipped out?”
“Uh huh,” Greta said not believing for a second that it just ‘slipped out’.
“I’m serious!” Jon complained frowning miserably down the hall where Spencer slipped into his next period class.
Greta cooed and patted his head in comfort. “Alright, is that all you did?”
“I may have pissed him off before that,” Jon admitted with a sigh. “I was taking a bunch of pictures of Spencer’s while he was trying to study and that might have made him angry.”
“Alrighty then,” she said with a smile, clapping her hands in excitement. She loved playing matchmaker and fixing relationships. “I will talk to Spencer at lunch.”
Jon grinned brightly and hugged the giggling blonde tightly, lifting her feet off the ground. “You’re my favorite Miss. Salpeter,”
“Of course I am,” she said in a matter-a-fact tone after Jon set her down. “Well, I better get to class. I’ll see you later Jon.”
The bearded man chuckled and waved to Greta as she walked down the hallway to go to her nursing class. He stood off to the side of the hallway for a few more minutes watching the students making their way to their classes, not caring if he was late to photography; Mrs. Riggleman loves him.
He was just about to go to class when he heard some of the gossip his classmates were spreading around the school about the school’s running back Frank Iero.
“Hey wait!” Jon shouted as a pack of freshman girls passed him, whispering to each other quietly.
They froze instantly and turned their heads to look back at Jon. “Yes?” The red headed one asked carefully, clutching the blonde beside her.
“What’s going on with Frank Iero?” The senior asked curiously. He doesn’t really know Frank that well, he has taken a bunch of pictures at games of the short senior, but he never really talked to him. Ryan had told him once that Frank had a crush on the head cheerleader Gerard, but that was never confirmed.
The freshman looked positively giddy, eyes gleaming with mirth at the chance to gossip with someone new. “Well,” the red head started, letting go of the blonde she was holding and cocking her hip. “Our good friend Jenny here,” she said pointing at the blonde girl she was clutching. “Heard from Megan, who heard from Courtney, who heard from Sisky, you know that guy that works at the diner down the street that makes really good blueberry pancakes,” When Jon nodded she smiled and continued, “Who heard from his sister, who heard from Abby, who overheard Jamia telling that William guy the other day after school.”
“What did she hear?” Jon asked the five snickering freshman girls.
“I heard that Frank cheats on his long time boyfriend, Bob Bryar the schools best lineman, almost every weekend,” Jenny responded to the bearded senior.
“Basically, she heard that he’s a huge man slut!” the small girl with mousy brown hair piped up from the back of the group.
Jon shook his head and chuckled. “Wait, Frank is dating Bob? I thought he liked Gerard?” he questions the freshman bemused.
All five girls shrug. “That’s just what we heard.” They reply simultaneously causing Jon to snort softy under his breath.
“Okay then. What else did you hear?” he asked them. But as soon as he asked them he started to feel kind of guilty about talking about people behind their back and was about to voice his concerns, but he gets over that quickly. This was some priceless gossip.
“Oh! And what about that scandal with that Jepha guy,” the red head added pointing at Jenny. “Didn’t he get like some kind of disease or something from him?”
The blonde one, Jenny, bounced on the balls of her feet. “Oh my god, that’s right. He totally got a STD from him. I think it was crabs,”
“No, I thought it was herpes,” the black haired one said pulling on one of Jenny’s pigtails gently.
“No,” Jenny spoke shaking her head and swatting at her friend. “I swear it was crabs,” she said firmly, nodding her head.
“Jepha had crabs?” the senior asked in shock. “Holy shit.”
The red headed girl shook her head at Jon. “Has crabs. Jepha has crabs. It happened like sometime last week,” she told him giggling, causing Jon’s mouth to drop open.
“Wow,” he mumbled rubbing his beard absentmindedly. “He didn’t get like medical attention or something?”
All five girls turn to each other with raised eyebrows and shrug. “We don’t know,” the red head finally said, after a few moments of whispering to one another. “I guess he could have?”
“But one thing we know for sure, is that Frank is a total asshole,” the second blonde girl spoke up from the back, sliding her black rimmed glasses higher up on her nose.
“Yeah,” the red head agreed nodding her head. “Always glaring at everyone that passes him, flicking off old ladies, cussing out cashiers. I even heard he kicked a puppy once because it was in his way. “
Jon raised his eyebrows. “I thought he loved animals. He’s a vegetarian isn’t he?”
By that time, Jon had been talking to the freshman girls for about five minutes; gossiping straight through the late bell.
“I mean he can’t care that much for his boyfriend if he’s cheating right?” the red head rambled, ignoring Jon’s question and twirling her curly hair between her fingers.
“True, so true Dani,” Jenny told the red head, whose name was apparently Dani. “Well, we better get to class girls. It’s been nice talking to you…”
“Jon, my name’s Jon.” He said, a lazy grin spreading like butter across his face. “The senior photographer for the yearbook,” he added sticking out his hand. The girls giggled again.
Jenny stuck out her hand and shook Jon’s slightly clammy hand. “See you later Jon,” the blonde said turning around with her girls and walked away, small hands waving over designer shoulders.
The senior chuckled and waved back; turning around to walk to his photography class just over fifteen minutes late. While he was walking, flip-flops clicking across the tiling in the hallway, he was thinking about whether or not to tell Spencer and Ryan about the gossip he just heard.
*
Patrick was really worried about boyfriend.
He saw him flirting with a bunch of the cheerleaders, including Gerard, before he walked out of the school to the football field to start marching practice. He was so concerned that he had to voice his concerns to his fellow drum major and good friend Spencer Smith. “I’m worried about Pete.”
Spencer doesn’t even bat an eye, he has heard this sob story so many times he learned to just go with his friend’s worries and tell him he was being stupid. “You’re being stupid Patrick,”
Patrick glared at his friend, he was not helping. “Spencer,” he whined, ears tinting red. “He’s always looking at other people. Whether it be the cleavage on some junior girl or the ass of a football player,” he told Spencer pulling the lip of his hat down over his eyebrows a little more. “What if he decides he’s bored with me?”
“Patrick, dude. Pete is crazy about you,” Spencer reassured his friend, throwing an arm across his shoulder. “He talks about you all the time. You have nothing to worry about. I promise.” And leaves it at that with a gentle squeeze and a bright smile.
The strawberry blonde grinned, a light red blush making its way across his cheekbones. “You’re right Spencer; I have nothing to worry about. Thanks dude,” Patrick said walking on the track alongside Spencer, making all the band members already there stop talking and stand at attention.
Once he got the band marching and everyone was looking good he turned to his fellow drum major. “So, what’s going on with Jon?” he asked curiously, he remembered seeing Spencer stomp into the school away from Jon the other day.
“Nothing,” Spencer muttered moving away from Patrick a bit to yell at a trumpeter that’s getting off course.
Patrick followed him after shouting out for the band to change songs. “What’s wrong Spencer, you usually love talking about Jon?” Patrick asked concerned.
Spencer just shrugged, frowning at the ground. “I may have overreacted the other day, when Jon made a small joke about Ryan,” he mumbled defeated, rubbing the toe of his shoe into the grass.
“You’re always overreacting about Ryan,” Patrick told his friend, flicking his ear lightly. “Remember last year when Gabe made that comment about his rose vest?”
Spencer laughed a bit, recalling going off on Gabe during lunch his sophomore year and almost slapping him when he got smart with him. “Good times huh?” Patrick chuckled and nodded. Pete wouldn’t shut up about it for a good three weeks after the incident, the senior drum major had to deal with Pete’s exaggerated stories and big hand gestures for a week.
After that small talk, they finished practicing letting the band go put their instruments away and get a quick bite to eat for lunch before they go to class. They’ve got to work really hard this week to get the new routine ready for the next home game in two weeks.
“Why don’t you just talk to him?” Patrick asked, bringing up their conversation from earlier as they go through the lunch line. “You know tell him you love to overreact. Especially when people joke about your best friend.”
The junior sighed, picking up his tray and bringing it to an empty table. “I definitely will the next time I see him. He’s been apologizing like crazy since it happened,” he said feeling really bad about the way he has been treating Jon for the past two days.
“I’m sure he’ll be relieved to hear that you forgive him,” Patrick said, reassuring his friend.
Spencer nodded, he really missed Jon and he was kicking himself for making a big deal over nothing to a friend again.
*
“Is CSPN ready to be taped today?” Mr. Hurley asked his Marketing class first thing when he walked in the door after lunch.
“It is ready to go Mr. Hurley,” Gabe said with a smirk. “Me and Ray are gonna interview Frank and Bob after school today.”
Ray nodded in agreement, his brown curly fro wiggling back and forth with the movement. “We already interviewed Gerard and the rest of the cheerleaders before the game last Friday,” he added pulling out the DVD with the interview on it and lifting it up to show the teacher.
“And, we sent Ryland to that track meet that happened over the weekend,” Gabe continued, pulling his neon green sunglasses off his eyes and hooking them in on the neck of his PETA t-shirt.
Mr. Hurley smiled, taking his glasses out of his pocket and sliding them on his face. “Did we edit those video clips we picked from the football game yesterday?” he asked looking at the clipboard he had in his hands, when his students replied with scattered agreements he checked it off on his clipboard. “What about the track meet and the volleyball game?”
“Yep, we did those yesterday too. It’s all set to be recorded,” Ray told him pushing the desk against the only white wall in the room, and setting it up so they can use it for the show. “All we need is the scripts we’re going to be using.”
Gabe popped up from behind the desk, clutching a stack of papers. “Which I’ve got right here!”
The sports marketing teacher nodded his head and started writing things down on his clipboard muttering under his breath. “Good, let’s get the show on the road then,” he told them pulling out a few video cameras from out of the closet and handed them to his students. “Gabe, Ray go get changed. We’ll get it all set up for you so it’ll be ready when you get back.”
“Yes sir,” Gabe shouted, giving his teacher a salute and running out of the classroom clutching his travel bag, a laughing Ray following him.
While his two TV journalists were changing, Andy Hurley and his students set up the room by moving the video cameras and lights they are going to use into place, and fixing the desk so that they get the best view for the show.
“Alright, let’s do this thing!” Gabe yelled looking all snazzy in his white dress shirt, tight black dress pants and thin red tie while he slides into the room with a smirk. Ray came in a few seconds later more composed than Gabe, looping his white tie around his neck and tightening it up to his neck.
“Let’s get this party started,” Ray said, smiling brightly, fro bouncing in excitement and maneuvering around the cameras and the desk to sit down on the rolling chair the crew set up behind their desk.
Alex Suarez, the geeky camera guy, peeks out from behind his camera and started counting down on his fingers from five, mouthing the numbers as he goes. When he hits one, he gives a thumbs up and points to Gabe.
“Hi, I’m Gabe Saporta. This here is my co-host Ray Toro-” he paused to point to his friend sitting next to him and lets Ray wave to the camera before continuing. “And you’re watching the newest installment of CSPN.”
“Last Friday our James Wood Colonel football players played a heard fought game against the Coastline Beavers with a score of 14 -7,” Ray said only looking down at his sheet once, to check the score. “The Colonel players were lead by senior quarter back Joe Trohman and senior running back Frank Iero, who scored the winning touchdown in the last ten seconds of the game.”
“Woo whoo! Go Iero!” Ryland shouted from behind the cameras doing a little dance, causing Gabe and Ray to laugh and shake their heads.
Alex slides the camera from Ray and pans out the zoom to get them both in the shot. “Here are some of the highlights from Friday’s game,” Gabe said, letting the cameramen know that they will edit in the video clips there as they stop taping.
“After the video clips,” Mr. Hurley said from the back of the room, leaning against the wall. “We’ll edit in the interview with Frank and Bob that Gabe and Ray are taping this afternoon.” Alex gave the teacher a thumbs up, counted down backwards from five and gave Gabe the go ahead to start talking.
“Our lady Colonel Volleyball team took out Hedgesville Thursday night, on their own turf with a score of 3 - 1,” Gabe said, nodding off to Ray.
“Let’s go to some clips from Thursday,” Ray said, shifting in his swirly chair. The cameraman nodded and stopped playing once again, so that the editors can put in the clips from the game.
Mr. Hurley moves forward to fix a set of lights that were leaving a small shadow on Ray’s face and walked over to Alex who was playing with the camera. “It’s looking good boys. What do we have next?”
Alex opens his mouth to answer, but Gabe piped up from behind the desk, “We’ve got the track meet left sir,” causing his mouth to snap shut. The marketing teacher nodded his head and moved back to his spot in the back of the room. Once he was out of sight, Alex glared at Gabe heatedly. Gabe just smirked at the angry cameraman.
Alex rolled his eyes and pointed at Ray to let him know they started taping. “What a good game, right Gabe?”
“It was a very good game Ray,” Gabe answered clapping his hands in an excited manner for the volleyball players.
Ray nodded causing his fro to bounce wildly and smiled towards the camera. “Last, but certainly not least, we’ve got the results from the track meet that went on last weekend,” Ray told the camera, picking up his script and tapping them on the table to straighten them out.
“We sent out our follow journalist, Ryland Blackinton to the meet on Saturday to interview a few of our runners,” Gabe spoke reaching out to pick up the glass of water to take a long gulp. He sighed and smiled brightly at the camera, being the big attention whore he is.
“Ryland should’ve joined track. I’m sure he would take the long jump no problem with those long legs,” Ray joked, chuckling a bit at Ryland’s indignant stare.
Gabe laughed too and claps his hand on Ray’s back. “Here are a few clips from the track meet,”
“And, Ryland’s interviews with three of James Wood’ best runners: Maja Ivarsson, who’s also on the cheer team-” Ray paused as Gabe bounced in his chair, letting him know that Gabe was just dying to say something.
“She has got to have leg muscles of steel Ray,” Gabe added during Ray’s pause. “I’ve been to one of the cheer practices. And damn, Gerard is really not kidding around.”
Ray rolled his eyes and continued, “-Nate Novarro, and our very own cameraman Alex Suarez.” Behind the camera, Alex grinned happily and zooms out the lenses to get both Gabe and Ray in the shot as they gesture off screen.
“During this pause, the interviews and track meet clips will be played,” Alex confirmed setting up his camera for the last shot of this week’s episode. Mr. Hurley gave a lazy thumbs up to Alex, who in turn points to the host’s.
“That’s all we’ve got on this week’s episode of CSPN,” Gabe announced with a grin. “’Till next time, I’m Gabe Saporta.”
“And I’m Ray Toro,” Ray added immediately after Gabe, with a grin of his own and turned towards Gabe, raising an eyebrow.
“Thanks for watching!” They shout simultaneously, waving erratically at the camera as Alex pans out to get them both in the shot, and stopped recording.
“And that’s a wrap!”
*
Art was Gerard’s favorite subject. Most students at the school think he was just the head cheerleader; he must be a dumb slut with no talent and they would be completely wrong. He happens to be a straight A student and an extremely good artist; he just doesn’t want too many people to know. His reputation was on the line here.
“The painting’s looking good Gerard,” Mr. McCoy said standing over Gerard’s shoulder as he moved the brush in his hand over the colorful canvas on the easel in front of him. The cheerleader craned his neck and smiled at his teacher in thanks. “Alright class, that’s it for today. Make sure to clean your brushes really well and set your canvas’ in the closet to dry. We’ll start with this again on Thursday.”
Gerard sighed and rolled his shoulders, stretching his muscles so he doesn’t cramp up. He has got practice after school and he wants to be at his best. “Have a good afternoon Mr. McCoy,” Gerard shouted on his way out of the art room.
“Hey Gerard, wait up!” Lindsey screamed from down the hallway, her pigtails flying around her head as she runs to catch up with her best friend. Gerard brushed a piece of his hair out of his eyes and laughed. “I’ve got something important to tell you.” He stopped short at that piece of information and turned around quickly.
“What’s up?” Gerard asked as his friend finally comes to a stop beside him. Lindsey dropped her hands to her knees and leaned over trying to catch her breath.
“It’s- about- Frank,” She gasped out between deep gulps of air.
Gerard raised a perfect eyebrow and patted her on the back tenderly. “Take it easy Lindsey,” he told her lifting her arms off of her knees and raises them in the air over her head. “You know that leaning over doesn’t help your breathing.”
Lindsey lets out an unsteady breath before she stands up straight. “You’re not going to like this Gerard,” she told him putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve heard some, things.”
“What kind of things?” he asked bemused, tilting his head to the side just a little, his eyebrow still raised.
Lindsey grimaced and shifted uneasily in her heels. “Well,” she started looking away from her friends hazel eyes for a second before looking back at him. “There’s no easy way to say this so, I’m just gonna say it,” she paused for a second and said in one breath, “Frank’s taken and apparently he’s a huge man slut.”
Gerard chuckled. “Slow down Lyn, I couldn’t understand a word you said,” he told her shaking his head.
“Frank’s dating that blonde dude he’s always with,” she said watching her friend’s face fall. “And I heard through the grapevine that Frank’s been around the block a few times.”
“Oh,” the male cheerleader mumbled dropping his head, black hair falling down in front of his kohl lined hazel eyes.
Lindsey wrapped her arms around Gerard tightly, rubbing his back trying to soothe her distressed friend. “I’m so sorry Gerard,” she whispered in his ear. “I knew how much you liked him.”
Gerard snuffled sadly into his friends black vest and hugs her back just as tightly. “That’s okay Lyn, it’s not your fault,” he mumbled miserably letting go of her vest, padding down the wrinkles his fists made in the fabric, and stepping away from his friends embrace. “I’ve gotta go to class now, I’ll see you after school.”
*
It wasn’t until Frank was rushing to practice after school that he finally figured why everyone was whispering and pointing at him.
“Fuckin’ Jamia is fuckin’ spreading rumors about me Bob!” Frank exclaimed as soon as he saw him in the almost empty locker-room.
The lineman just gave his friend a bored look as he strapped his padding on his shoulders. “Okay and…” Bob makes a ‘go on’ gesture with his right hand as he picked up his helmet.
Frank made a disgruntled noise and stomped about the room like a little kid that didn’t get any cookies even after they waited until after dinner. “Jamia. Spread rumors. About us.”
“Wait, just one second,” Bob said grabbing Frank’s shoulder, stopping him from kicking a locker. “About us? You said she was spreading rumor about you.” He poked Frank’s chest harshly.
“Ow,” Frank whimpered rubbing his chest. “That really hurt Bob.”
Bob rolled his eyes and scratched at his beard. “Suck it up you big baby,” he told his friend flicking his ear lightly. “Now, what kinds of rumors are being spread?”
“Well,” Frank drawled, rubbing the toe of his sneaker in circles on the concrete. “There are a few rumors saying that we’re in a relationship and I cheat on you every weekend.”
The blonde goes extremely still, bright blue eyes comically wide. “WHAT!?”
His scream was so loud that the cheerleaders, who were practicing out on the field alongside the football players stopped cheering.
“What in the hell?” Ashlee muttered tilting her head to the side causing her ponytail to swing and dropping her arms back to her sides. That started a wave of whispers throughout the group of girls all wondering the same thing. What just happened?
Gerard cocked his hip to the side flicking a stray piece of bang out of his eyes, a frown making its way across his pale face, and threw his arms up in the air exasperated. “Never mind that little interruption girls!” Gerard yelled, getting his cheerleaders attention. “Let’s start from the beginning of the second sideline cheer.”
“They say we are the greatest, we are the best, we are the C-O-L-O-N-E-L-S.” They shout in sync with one another and clapping along with the cheer.
Back in the locker-room, Bob was pacing across the floor furiously mumbling death threats under his breath. Frank chewed on his thumb nail nervously, bits of black nail polish fluttering to the ground around him. He has never seen Bob so angry in his life.
“Alright,” the blonde said, five minutes later when he finally calmed down. “What are we going to do?” Frank shrugged anxiously. He was more worried about if Gerard heard about these lies.
Just as Bob opened his mouth to speak again, their coach bangs open the door to the locker-room and yelled, “Get your asses out on the field! We’ve got work to do!”
“Yes sir,” the two football players shouted out at the same time and adding in a salute to their coach sarcastically. Coach Schechter grunts in reply and walked back out.
As soon as Coach left the room, he hurried to his locker and swiftly got his padding on. Bob, who was already dressed and ready for practice, leaned against the row of gym lockers and snickered at Frank’s attempt at getting his pads on in a rush.
“We’ll talk about this after practice,” Bob told his friend once he was done getting dressed. Frank nodded while tying his cleats tightly.
“Sounds good to me,” he replied getting up off the bench and leaving the locker-room, the burly blonde following close behind.
Frank and Bob were mumbling quietly to each other as they walked out of the locker-room when they saw trouble in the flesh sitting in the stands, and - oh, fuck this shit - she was talking to CSPN hosts Gabe and Ray.
“I bet she’s telling them rumors about us!” Frank whispered frantically to the lineman, staring up at the stands where Jamia was sitting talking, sometimes pointing down to the field basically confirming Frank’s suspicion, to their classmates Gabe and Ray who were here to interview them after practice.
Frank looked at the cheerleaders out of the corner of his eyes who are clapping their hands, shaking their asses, and yelling out cheers. He notices that Gerard was looking absolutely stunning today, even though he was sweating and panting.
“James Wood Colonels the name you will fear. We’re on our way to the top, this is our year. So come on fans make some noise, we’re going for a win. JWHS, we’re back once again, COLONELS!” They screamed to the almost empty bleachers, after two more cheers they stopped to get a drink of water.
“Looking good ladies!” Gerard shouted to his teammates, as they got back into formation. “One more sideline cheer and then you can go.” Once he got his girls to quiet down, he noticed Frank and Bob coming out of the locker-room to head out onto the field, heads bent towards each other.
Ashlee clapped him on the shoulder gently as she walked past him to get in line and mumbled “Don’t let him get you down. You deserve better Gee,” Gerard smiled at her gratefully and clapped his hands.
“Hey, hey. Let’s go blue, let’s go big blue.” They cheer loud enough that the entire football players look over at them and catcall, causing the football coach to glare at them.
“Alright ladies, since you can’t seem to pay attention… let’s run some sprints!” Schechter shouted at his team, getting their attention. “Go, go, go!”
Frank pulled his eyes away from a sweaty Gerard long enough to start running with the rest of the team from the ten yard line down to the fifty yard line in repetitions of five. Once they finished their sprints, they did a few more warm ups before they got into their respective drills.
When Frank could finally look back over to Gerard and the cheerleaders, they were already gone. “Dammit,” he muttered under his breath as he stepped up for his turn at a passing drill.
After practice Frank limped off to the showers all sweaty and gross, his right arm wrapped around Bob’s shoulders and his left hand holding onto his blue helmet. His teammates were really hard on him today, for some odd reason.
“They kept yelling, ‘This is for the puppies!’ at me before they tackled me,” Frank whined as Bob brought him into the locker-room and setting him down on the bench.
“Well,” Bob started then paused, rubbing his blonde beard in thought. “I - um - don’t know what to say to that.”
Frank pulled off his shoulder pads and untied his cleats so he could lean over to rub his sore ankles. “They were so harsh Bob,” he complained sitting up to pull off the gloves he was wearing. “We’re the hell were you? I was getting pummeled out there. You were supposed to save me!”
Bob shrugged his padded shoulders and opened his locker. “I was trying too, but I kept getting stopped,” his voice was muffled from under his jersey and pads that he pulled off his body. “Someone tripped me.”
“Gerard had to have heard by now,” Frank sighed and stood up to go to the showers, his head bowed and feet dragging across the cement flooring.
“We’ll figure out something Frank,” Bob said after his friend left. “Don’t you worry.”
*
The rest of the week passed quickly for Patrick and before he knew it, he was picking up his boyfriend Pete from his house to go to Ashlee’s party. That he really wasn’t very excited for. Every time that Pete went to a party he got extremely drunk, flirted with everyone, and grinded on people while he danced. He knew that Pete had a bit of a wandering eye, but he just can’t take the jealousy anymore. It was eating him alive; he has to talk to his boyfriend.
“Pete, I think we need to talk,” Patrick told his boyfriend as soon as he got in the car.
Pete waved his hand about distractedly; pulling down the mirror in the visor above his head to make sure his eyeliner still looked good. “Sure, sure in a minute.”
“Okay,” Patrick drawled, putting his Sedan in gear. He made sure he looked both ways before pulling out of the Wentz’s driveway and driving down the street towards Ashlee’s house.
“Oh, Oh!” Pete exclaimed a few minutes later as he put the visor back up. “Can we pick up Gabe, Ray, and William; they’re all at Gabe’s house. They called while I was getting ready.” Pete gave Patrick his best puppy dog eyes and pouted.
Patrick groaned and looked away from Pete. “No, no, no, nooooo,” Patrick said firmly, drawling out the last ‘o’ with a shake of his head. “No, Pete that is not going to work on me.”
“Please…” Pete whined, batting his long black eyelashes in an exaggerated manner.
The strawberry blonde took a chance and looked at his boyfriend for a fleeting second. And that’s all it took. “Jeez, fine. I’ll pick them up,” he said with a sigh.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you baby!” Pete yelled, giving his hat wearing boyfriend a quick and sloppy kiss on the cheek after every thank you. “I’ll call them back and let them know we’re on the way.” Pete pulled out his phone, dialed Gabe’s home number, and immediately started chatting away.
Patrick rolled his eyes and turned his car around now on his way to Gabe’s house. “Can’t believe I feel for the puppy dog eyes again,” he muttered under his breath, turning on his blinkers as he came to Gabe’s.
Pete hung up the phone just as they pulled into Gabe’s driveway. “They’re on their way down now,” he told Patrick, pocketing his phone. “Oh, I just remembered. You wanted to talk to me about something?”
“Never mind it’s not that important. I’ll talk to you about it later,” Patrick told his boyfriend sullenly as he parked his Sedan and waited for Pete’s friends to come out of the house.
“Okay, if you’re sure,” Pete chirped smiling brightly as he saw his best friends walk out of the front door. He rolled down the window and waved spastically, causing his friends to laugh at his obnoxious actions.
Patrick mumbled a reply that fell on deaf ears and rolled his eyes. The rest of the drive to Ashlee’s house was pretty uneventful, unless you count Gabe mooning an old lady and William screaming out the window at passersby, flicking them off as soon as Patrick drove away, eventful.
The party was in full swing as they drove up to the house, just a little late or fashionably late as Pete would say. And already they could hear the extremely loud dance music that was thumping from inside the house, crowds of young people walking in and out of the front door clutching red plastic cups, slightly swaying and holding on to one another, and the multicolored bright disco type lights that were shining out from the windows, nearly blinding Patrick as he pulled up on the curb and parked.
Patrick’s Sedan had barely stopped moving before Pete and the gang scrambled out from the car, whooping and hollering, fist pumping, the whole nine yards. Well, all except Ray who got out carefully dunking his head low under the frame fixed his fro with a smirk and fucking swaggered through the front door.
With a poignant sigh, Patrick locked the doors to his SUV and walked up the front steps, his head hung low and his hat pulled down to his eyebrows.
“Heyy Patrick, what’s cracking?” Brendon drawled in his ear, his words slurring from the amount of alcohol he consumed, as soon as Patrick stepped through the front door.
The shorter boy cringed and shuffled away from the wave of alcohol stained breath that assaulted his nostrils. After a few seconds of him silently wishing Brendon would lose interest and walk away; Patrick lost hope.
“Hey Brendon.” He answered, disinterest in his tone as he put on a fake smile, tucked his hands deep inside his pockets, and nodded politely at the sophomore.
The brown haired boy grinned slowly mouth opening to reply when his glazed eyes shifted from Patrick who was slowly shifting away, to someone behind him. “Ryan Rossy!” Brendon shouted excitedly over Patrick’s shoulder. Ryan, the boy in question, turned his head towards them cautiously and waved courteously before walking away briskly. “Hey. Hey, Ryan wait up!”
Patrick sighed in relief as Brendon stumbled off after the journalist, screaming and knocking people over in his journey. “Thank god.” He mumbled, walking off to search for his boyfriend in the sea of gyrating people.
“Hey Ray,” Patrick yelled over the obnoxious techno music that was playing. “Have you seen Pete?”
Ray shook his head, shrugged his shoulders and mouths ‘sorry’ to the shorter man. Patrick frowned and patted his friend on the back before walking away, eyes scanning the dance floor for that familiar head of black hair.
He finds his boyfriend five minutes later grinding on some really tall, almost feminine looking boy, wearing white rimmed glasses and a ratty gray beanie. Of course, that was after he ran into Bob, the big scary lineman who was talking to his fellow teammate, Frank the short manic running back. Who did something really different with his hair, Patrick thought idly after he apologized profusely to the blonde and speed off hastily.
Patrick waits a few moments, watching his boyfriend dirty dance with someone else before he started to shout out his name to get his attention. “Pete.” He whispered sadly after a few minutes of screaming for his boyfriend.
“Patrick, you okay?” Spencer asked the drum major, who looked positively crushed. Following his friends eyesight, he immediately knows that Patrick’s not okay.
“I’m fine Spencer,” he snapped turning away from the sight of his boyfriend and some random guy dancing and marched towards the kitchen. “I need a drink.”
The junior drum major shook his head at Pete and took off after his jealous friend. “Patrick,” Spencer said quietly following his friend into the kitchen. He was surprised that as soon as the door shuts to the kitchen the music almost completely silent. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean anything by it.”
White hot jealously clouded Patrick’s thoughts as he stormed off to the fridge with a huff and grabbed a beer. “Yeah right, he’s been doing this since we’ve been dating.”
“You know that I can’t let you drive home if you drink that,” Spencer said pointing towards the alcoholic beverage in Patrick’s hand.
“Fine,” the strawberry blonde hissed, setting the beer back in the fridge and pouting against the counter.
Spencer gave his friend a sympathetic look and grabbed his left arm. “Come on, let’s people watch for a while then,” he said with a shy smile. When Patrick gave him this ‘are you kidding me’ look he added, “To - ya know - get your mind off things.”
“Alright,” Patrick agreed, looking longingly at the fridge one more time before letting himself be dragged back out into the living room; where the music once again boomed so loud that the senior swears the bass makes his bones start to rattle.
Spencer weaved in and out of groups of dancing students, cliques of gossiping girls, and a moping Gerard who’s sitting on the steps with two of his cheerleaders, one being the host of the party, Ashlee.
“I think her name is Lindsey,” the brown haired junior whispered to Patrick when he noticed him looking at the pigtailed cheerleader murmuring to her pouting friend and pulled him past Gerard to the top of the steps where they sat down. “From what I’ve heard, Gerard has a crush on Frank -”
Patrick mumbled something incoherently at least trying seem like he was paying attention, glaring at the lanky brown haired boy that’s dancing with his boyfriend. “What does he have that I don’t?” he asked rhetorically pushing his glasses up higher on his nose. “So what, he’s skinnier. Okay, maybe he’s even a little prettier; apparently he’s a good dancer…”
“-But from what Jon told me at lunch the other day, Gerard’s crush is unrequited,” Spencer rambled, snapping his fingers in front of Patrick’s face to get his attention. “He told me that Frank’s dating that big blonde guy he’s always with.”
“His name’s Bob. Bob Bryar, he’s a lineman on the football team.” Patrick added his eyes shifting momentarily from Pete who’s now dancing with someone new, a cheerleader he thought furiously, to the corner where Bob was gesturing wildly to Frank who’s looking towards Gerard miserably.
He opens his mouth - probably to say something about how Gerard’s crush doesn’t seem so farfetched after all, but it snapped shut with a harsh click when he glanced back at his boyfriend. Tears threaten to fall from his eyes at the sight of Pete’s tongue down some random guy’s throat. “I’ll see you later Spencer,” he said snuffling, getting up from his position on the stairs. “I’m suddenly not in the mood to party anymore.”
“Patrick wait!” Spencer yelled rushing after his friend who’s stomping out the front door. “I’m sure he didn’t-” he added pushing past Brendon and William arguing over who’s the better cheerleader - with an amused Jon and Ryan watching, when the door slammed right into his face. “-Mean it.”
Spencer turned around quickly to glower at a clueless Pete who, by now, switched from tonguing some random guy to some random girl. He trudged straight over to the black haired heartbreaker, grabbed the back of his neck, and tugged him backwards. “You little shithead,” he hissed into his ear dragging him into the kitchen. “Do you even know what you’re doing to Patrick?”
“Who the fuck are you?” Pete asked irritably rubbing the back of his sore neck.
Spencer seethed, so extremely livid that he has to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths to calm himself down before he punched the smug little fucker. “You’re worst fuckin’ nightmare,” he replied with a snarl. Pete’s eyes widen fearfully at the look on Spencer’s face. “You don’t deserve him.”
As the angry brown haired boy stomped out of the kitchen, he stopped just short of the front door to grab Jon (who he had finally forgave because, let’s face it Spencer was a push-over when it comes to Jon) and Ryan (who just looked bored from the way he was swirling his brown paisley scarf around his long boney finger) from their one sided conversation with an awfully drunk Brendon and William. “We’re leaving,” he announced dragging two of his best friends out the door making sure to slam it behind them.
“What in the hell just happened?” Ashlee shouted from her place beside Gerard on the steps, once the bang of the slammed door stopped echoing. The whole party just shrugged their shoulders, shaking their heads bemused, and they continue to dance like nothing happened. While the girls start to gossip, Ashlee picked up snippets of their conversations and giggled. By tomorrow there should be a few new rumors going around about students cheating on one another that will, hopefully, get Gerard’s mind off of Frank.
Ashlee sighed and shook her head, red curls bouncing and ruffled Gerard’s hair causing him to swat at her. With a smile she mumbled, “What a party.”
Part Three
“Mikey, wake the fuck up!” Gerard yelled shaking his sleeping brother. “We’re going to be late!” Mikey mumbled something incoherently, rolled over, and removes one of his arms from under the covers just enough to swat at his brother, making contact with a faint thump. Gerard lets out an indignant squawk and rubs the side of his head.
He was still standing next to Mikey’s bed though, for a few minutes longer he decides, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Gerard lets out a sigh of annoyance and pulled out his phone, checking the time. “Fuck,” he mumbled staring at the 7:20 a.m. blinking colored lights mocking him. They’re going to be really late now.
He mumbled angrily under his breath about and started poking at his brother’s boney shoulder before sighing. Gerard rolled his eyes and said, “Alright Mikeyway, you asked for this,” and pulled out his iPod, sets it on the dock that Mikey has set up, and shuffled through it until he found the right song.
As the beat started to play through the speakers, he cleared his throat, tapped his feet to the beat, and started to sing. All the single ladies, all the single ladies. All the single ladies, now put your hands up, up!”
“Alright, I’m up! I’m up,” Mikey yelled bolting up from his cocoon of blankets and covering his ears. “Please stop singing!”
Gerard stopped the music abruptly but sings one more line complete with a hip shimmy and smiled gleefully at his brother’s mad scientist bed hair. “You have five minutes Mikey!” he yelled over his shoulder as he walked out of his brother’s room.
On his way down the stairs Gerard could hear his brother’s angry mumbling mixed with a lot of loud smashing noises. “What did you do to your brother this time Gerard?” Mrs. Way asked pouring out three cups of coffee into some superhero mugs.
“Nothing Ma,” Gerard said grabbing his favorite Batman cup and taking a grateful sip of the warm liquid. A loud crash sounded from upstairs followed by a string of curses.
Donna sighed and shook her head at her boys. “Why do I have trouble believing you Gerard?”
The boy in question just shrugged his shoulders, smiled innocently at his mom, and gives her a kiss on the cheek before screaming, “You’re five minutes are up Mikey!” to his brother and walking out the door.
Mikey comes barreling down the stairs, hair looking like a birds nest, his jacket open carelessly and hanging off one shoulder with his book bag dragging across the floor yelling, “It hasn’t been five minutes yet jackass!”
“Language Mikey!” Mrs. Way shouted from the kitchen.
“Sorry Mama!” Mikey screamed back slamming the front door behind him on his way out of the house.
As Mrs. Way sat down at the table with her coffee and the paper she heard the muffled sounds of her boys still arguing, the slamming of car doors (she was always getting after those boys for slamming doors) followed by the roar of an engine, and the squeal of tires burning rubber.
Then, complete and utter silence. The only sound heard was the constant sipping noises and the ruffling of the newspaper.
Mrs. Way sighed happily, a gentle fond smile gracing her face and shook her head, her black curls bouncing. “I love my boys.”
*
Frank’s morning was not going well.
It had all started when he didn’t get up on time because his alarm clock never went off, and by the time he got up he only had time to take a quick five minute shower. But his mom used all the hot water when she had gotten ready this morning, so he was stuck freezing his balls off under the iced cold water. She had also forgotten to tell him they were out of coffee and his fake bacon. Even though he had just went to the store after practice yesterday, so he couldn’t even eat breakfast. To make matters even worse his car wouldn’t start, the bus obviously couldn’t see him, and it started to rain while he was walking to school.
“What in the hell happened to you?” was the first thing Bob asked when he saw Frank walk in late to homeroom. He received an angry glare in return. The blonde stuck up his hands, palms out in front of him in that ‘hey I’m innocent’ gesture and said, “Hey, I mean no harm dude.”
Frank growled as his classmates snickered when his shoes started to make squeaky noises when he walked over to his desk next to Bob to sit down. “I’ve had a really fucking bad morning Bob.”
“I can see that.” Bob told him and laughed when Frank just flipped him the bird and slammed his head down on his desk, water droplets flinging off his hair and onto the person in front of him. “At least it can’t get much worse.”
Frank puffed out a chuckle against his desk and mumbled a sad, “I guess that’s true.”
“Never doubt me boy,” Bob replied mocking their football coach and patted his friend on the head in comfort. He pulled back quickly though, wiping his hand on the dry spot on the back of Frank’s shirt to get the water off.
Frank lifted his head off of the desk and smiled slightly; he even let out a little snicker. Bob counted that as a win; he really hated seeing his manic friend depressed. He makes everyone around him that much happier, it’s the exact opposite when he was sad. It’s almost like everything was drooping and miserable. And that made for an even harder day at school.
The rest of homeroom went on like that; Frank frowning miserably, head down on the desk his hair curling at the base of the neck where it finally started to dry, and Bob sitting at his desk staring blankly off into space hoping they were having burgers for lunch.
It wasn’t until the bell was about to ring signaling the end of homeroom, that Bob noticed all the students in the room were whispering quietly to each other, pointing at Frank and giggling like school girls, then turning around in their chairs not so stealthy to stare at his brown haired when they thought no one was looking.
“Frank,” Bob murmured poking him in the shoulder repeatedly, muttering his name in-between every poke until he woke up with a start, drool sliding down from his open lips. “The bell rang like three minutes ago dude, we’re gonna be so fuckin’ late to Math.”
“Shit,” Frank yelled bolting out of his desk so fast that he knocked his knee on the metal side and crumpled to the floor in pain. “God dammit! That fuckin’ hurt like a bitch.”
Bob chuckled at his short friend rolling around on the floor, his knee bent up near his chest almost tucked underneath his chin, arms wrapped tightly around it and his face scrunched up in exaggerated agony. “Get up you big baby, Kerns is gonna kill us,”
“Can I get some help here please,” Frank asked sticking his hand out for Bob to grab.
Bob just laughed and shook his head. “Fuck no; you can get up by yourself. I’m going to class,” he replied picking up his books and walking out of the now empty classroom.
“Fuck you asshole!” Frank shouted after his blonde friend as he got up off the floor and followed Bob out into the hallway, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
As Frank made his way through the hallway, nearly running to get to class on time, he couldn’t help but notice all the obnoxious giggling and the pointing that he was getting. Figuring it was his not so grand entrance this morning, he let it slide. He’d ask Bob about it in Math, if he got there on time that is. Mr. Kerns was a real stickler about students being in his class on time and if Frank was late again, he won’t be sitting anywhere near Bob.
“Cutting it really close today Mr. Iero,” Mr. Kerns declared, his back turned towards the board as Frank slipped in through the barley open door of his math class just as the late bell rang out.
“I couldn’t imagine being late to your class Mr. Kerns,” Frank replied sarcastically, weaving through the rows of desks to the empty one in the back next to Bob.
“Alright class, since Mr. Iero decided to grace us with his presence,” Mr. Kerns said turning towards his class and making a hand gesture at Frank. “I think I’m going to give a pop quiz.”
There was a loud rumble of angry grumbling throughout the room, students glaring spitefully at a sheepish looking Frank as the teacher handed out the quiz. “Nice going Iero,” Bob muttered slapping his friend lightly on the back of the head.
Frank sputtered hazel eyes wide in shock, rubbing the back of head. “I - I didn’t do anything!”
“No talking!” Mr. Kerns shouted as he hands out the rest of the quizzes.
Frank makes a straggled noise in the back of his throat and looked down at the sheet of paper on his desk. “Shit,” he mumbled and dropped his head on the desk with a noisy thump.
After the pop quiz, Mr. Kerns turned off a set of lights and started teaching something about triangles. Most of the students were taking notes and listening to the teacher drone on about the Pythagorean Theorem, while some of them murmured to each other, looking back at Frank.
“Hey Bob,” Frank whispered, poking his blonde friend in the arm. When Bob didn’t answer he poked him again. “Bob…”
“What the fuck do you want Iero?” Bob asked after a few minutes enduring Frank’s poking for as long as he possibly could.
“Is there something on my face?” the brown haired man questions, rubbing at his face.
Bob sighed and turned to his friend. “Not that I can see,” he answered bemused, shaking his head. “Why?”
“People keep whispering and pointing at me,” Frank told his friend, hunching his shoulders.
The lineman rolled his eyes and said, “I’m sure they’re not gossiping about you,” But a quick scan of the room confirmed that just about half of the class were pointing and laughing at his friend. “Okay, so maybe they are.”
Frank laughed sarcastically and glared at the blonde. “No shit asshole,” he replied irritably, flicking off the group of girls that were looking over at him.
“Don’t get snarky with me,” Bob advised him jokingly, jotting down the formula Mr. Kerns told his class they had to know for the test they would be having next week.
Frank mocked his friend sullenly as he wrote the formula on the top of the blank sheet of paper on his desk. When he was done, he turned to Bob and started poking him again.
“What Frank?” Bob asked annoyed, he was actually trying to pay attention to what the teacher was teaching them.
His short friend pouted. “You are a mean man Bob Bryar,” he informed him and turned back to the front of the class to try and pay attention to whatever Mr. Kerns was going on about.
That only lasted about five minutes though. “Bob,” he muttered kicking his friend’s shin this time instead of poking him.
“Yes Frank?” Bob responded sighing. At least he got five minutes of quiet, that’s all he could ask for.
Frank shifted uneasily in his seat, frowning at the couple across the room that started laughing and pointing at him trying - and failing - at being discreet. “What do you think they’re laughing at?”
*
Jon really, really hates being ignored. Especially when it’s his good friend (and crush) Spencer that’s ignoring him.
“Spencer, come on. I thought we were over this!” Jon yelled down the hallway as Spencer walked away from him. Again. “I’m sorry?”
“Trouble in paradise?” Greta asked patting Jon on the shoulder gently as he dropped his chin to his chest. All she got in reply was an incomprehensible noise and the shrugging of shoulders. “Do you want me to talk to him for you Jon?”
The bearded man picked up his head so quickly he almost got whiplash. “Would you please?”
Greta smiled white teeth just visible behind pink lips. “Of course I will,” she said tucking a piece of her blonde hair behind her ears. Jon grinned and opened his mouth to thank her, but she cut him off. “But, you need to tell me what you did wrong so I can fix it.”
His grin melted right off his face. “I didn’t do anything,” he whined, stomping his right foot like a child.
The blonde gave him a look then shrugged her shoulders. “Then I guess I can’t help you,”
“Fine,” Jon said pouting, then paused and looked down. “I might have made fun of Ryan the other day.”
“And why did you make fun of Spencer’s best friend?” she asked confused. “I thought you liked Ryan.”
Jon sighed and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I do but,” he paused for a second to think, stuffing his hands in his pockets looking guilty. “It kind of just slipped out?”
“Uh huh,” Greta said not believing for a second that it just ‘slipped out’.
“I’m serious!” Jon complained frowning miserably down the hall where Spencer slipped into his next period class.
Greta cooed and patted his head in comfort. “Alright, is that all you did?”
“I may have pissed him off before that,” Jon admitted with a sigh. “I was taking a bunch of pictures of Spencer’s while he was trying to study and that might have made him angry.”
“Alrighty then,” she said with a smile, clapping her hands in excitement. She loved playing matchmaker and fixing relationships. “I will talk to Spencer at lunch.”
Jon grinned brightly and hugged the giggling blonde tightly, lifting her feet off the ground. “You’re my favorite Miss. Salpeter,”
“Of course I am,” she said in a matter-a-fact tone after Jon set her down. “Well, I better get to class. I’ll see you later Jon.”
The bearded man chuckled and waved to Greta as she walked down the hallway to go to her nursing class. He stood off to the side of the hallway for a few more minutes watching the students making their way to their classes, not caring if he was late to photography; Mrs. Riggleman loves him.
He was just about to go to class when he heard some of the gossip his classmates were spreading around the school about the school’s running back Frank Iero.
“Hey wait!” Jon shouted as a pack of freshman girls passed him, whispering to each other quietly.
They froze instantly and turned their heads to look back at Jon. “Yes?” The red headed one asked carefully, clutching the blonde beside her.
“What’s going on with Frank Iero?” The senior asked curiously. He doesn’t really know Frank that well, he has taken a bunch of pictures at games of the short senior, but he never really talked to him. Ryan had told him once that Frank had a crush on the head cheerleader Gerard, but that was never confirmed.
The freshman looked positively giddy, eyes gleaming with mirth at the chance to gossip with someone new. “Well,” the red head started, letting go of the blonde she was holding and cocking her hip. “Our good friend Jenny here,” she said pointing at the blonde girl she was clutching. “Heard from Megan, who heard from Courtney, who heard from Sisky, you know that guy that works at the diner down the street that makes really good blueberry pancakes,” When Jon nodded she smiled and continued, “Who heard from his sister, who heard from Abby, who overheard Jamia telling that William guy the other day after school.”
“What did she hear?” Jon asked the five snickering freshman girls.
“I heard that Frank cheats on his long time boyfriend, Bob Bryar the schools best lineman, almost every weekend,” Jenny responded to the bearded senior.
“Basically, she heard that he’s a huge man slut!” the small girl with mousy brown hair piped up from the back of the group.
Jon shook his head and chuckled. “Wait, Frank is dating Bob? I thought he liked Gerard?” he questions the freshman bemused.
All five girls shrug. “That’s just what we heard.” They reply simultaneously causing Jon to snort softy under his breath.
“Okay then. What else did you hear?” he asked them. But as soon as he asked them he started to feel kind of guilty about talking about people behind their back and was about to voice his concerns, but he gets over that quickly. This was some priceless gossip.
“Oh! And what about that scandal with that Jepha guy,” the red head added pointing at Jenny. “Didn’t he get like some kind of disease or something from him?”
The blonde one, Jenny, bounced on the balls of her feet. “Oh my god, that’s right. He totally got a STD from him. I think it was crabs,”
“No, I thought it was herpes,” the black haired one said pulling on one of Jenny’s pigtails gently.
“No,” Jenny spoke shaking her head and swatting at her friend. “I swear it was crabs,” she said firmly, nodding her head.
“Jepha had crabs?” the senior asked in shock. “Holy shit.”
The red headed girl shook her head at Jon. “Has crabs. Jepha has crabs. It happened like sometime last week,” she told him giggling, causing Jon’s mouth to drop open.
“Wow,” he mumbled rubbing his beard absentmindedly. “He didn’t get like medical attention or something?”
All five girls turn to each other with raised eyebrows and shrug. “We don’t know,” the red head finally said, after a few moments of whispering to one another. “I guess he could have?”
“But one thing we know for sure, is that Frank is a total asshole,” the second blonde girl spoke up from the back, sliding her black rimmed glasses higher up on her nose.
“Yeah,” the red head agreed nodding her head. “Always glaring at everyone that passes him, flicking off old ladies, cussing out cashiers. I even heard he kicked a puppy once because it was in his way. “
Jon raised his eyebrows. “I thought he loved animals. He’s a vegetarian isn’t he?”
By that time, Jon had been talking to the freshman girls for about five minutes; gossiping straight through the late bell.
“I mean he can’t care that much for his boyfriend if he’s cheating right?” the red head rambled, ignoring Jon’s question and twirling her curly hair between her fingers.
“True, so true Dani,” Jenny told the red head, whose name was apparently Dani. “Well, we better get to class girls. It’s been nice talking to you…”
“Jon, my name’s Jon.” He said, a lazy grin spreading like butter across his face. “The senior photographer for the yearbook,” he added sticking out his hand. The girls giggled again.
Jenny stuck out her hand and shook Jon’s slightly clammy hand. “See you later Jon,” the blonde said turning around with her girls and walked away, small hands waving over designer shoulders.
The senior chuckled and waved back; turning around to walk to his photography class just over fifteen minutes late. While he was walking, flip-flops clicking across the tiling in the hallway, he was thinking about whether or not to tell Spencer and Ryan about the gossip he just heard.
*
Patrick was really worried about boyfriend.
He saw him flirting with a bunch of the cheerleaders, including Gerard, before he walked out of the school to the football field to start marching practice. He was so concerned that he had to voice his concerns to his fellow drum major and good friend Spencer Smith. “I’m worried about Pete.”
Spencer doesn’t even bat an eye, he has heard this sob story so many times he learned to just go with his friend’s worries and tell him he was being stupid. “You’re being stupid Patrick,”
Patrick glared at his friend, he was not helping. “Spencer,” he whined, ears tinting red. “He’s always looking at other people. Whether it be the cleavage on some junior girl or the ass of a football player,” he told Spencer pulling the lip of his hat down over his eyebrows a little more. “What if he decides he’s bored with me?”
“Patrick, dude. Pete is crazy about you,” Spencer reassured his friend, throwing an arm across his shoulder. “He talks about you all the time. You have nothing to worry about. I promise.” And leaves it at that with a gentle squeeze and a bright smile.
The strawberry blonde grinned, a light red blush making its way across his cheekbones. “You’re right Spencer; I have nothing to worry about. Thanks dude,” Patrick said walking on the track alongside Spencer, making all the band members already there stop talking and stand at attention.
Once he got the band marching and everyone was looking good he turned to his fellow drum major. “So, what’s going on with Jon?” he asked curiously, he remembered seeing Spencer stomp into the school away from Jon the other day.
“Nothing,” Spencer muttered moving away from Patrick a bit to yell at a trumpeter that’s getting off course.
Patrick followed him after shouting out for the band to change songs. “What’s wrong Spencer, you usually love talking about Jon?” Patrick asked concerned.
Spencer just shrugged, frowning at the ground. “I may have overreacted the other day, when Jon made a small joke about Ryan,” he mumbled defeated, rubbing the toe of his shoe into the grass.
“You’re always overreacting about Ryan,” Patrick told his friend, flicking his ear lightly. “Remember last year when Gabe made that comment about his rose vest?”
Spencer laughed a bit, recalling going off on Gabe during lunch his sophomore year and almost slapping him when he got smart with him. “Good times huh?” Patrick chuckled and nodded. Pete wouldn’t shut up about it for a good three weeks after the incident, the senior drum major had to deal with Pete’s exaggerated stories and big hand gestures for a week.
After that small talk, they finished practicing letting the band go put their instruments away and get a quick bite to eat for lunch before they go to class. They’ve got to work really hard this week to get the new routine ready for the next home game in two weeks.
“Why don’t you just talk to him?” Patrick asked, bringing up their conversation from earlier as they go through the lunch line. “You know tell him you love to overreact. Especially when people joke about your best friend.”
The junior sighed, picking up his tray and bringing it to an empty table. “I definitely will the next time I see him. He’s been apologizing like crazy since it happened,” he said feeling really bad about the way he has been treating Jon for the past two days.
“I’m sure he’ll be relieved to hear that you forgive him,” Patrick said, reassuring his friend.
Spencer nodded, he really missed Jon and he was kicking himself for making a big deal over nothing to a friend again.
*
“Is CSPN ready to be taped today?” Mr. Hurley asked his Marketing class first thing when he walked in the door after lunch.
“It is ready to go Mr. Hurley,” Gabe said with a smirk. “Me and Ray are gonna interview Frank and Bob after school today.”
Ray nodded in agreement, his brown curly fro wiggling back and forth with the movement. “We already interviewed Gerard and the rest of the cheerleaders before the game last Friday,” he added pulling out the DVD with the interview on it and lifting it up to show the teacher.
“And, we sent Ryland to that track meet that happened over the weekend,” Gabe continued, pulling his neon green sunglasses off his eyes and hooking them in on the neck of his PETA t-shirt.
Mr. Hurley smiled, taking his glasses out of his pocket and sliding them on his face. “Did we edit those video clips we picked from the football game yesterday?” he asked looking at the clipboard he had in his hands, when his students replied with scattered agreements he checked it off on his clipboard. “What about the track meet and the volleyball game?”
“Yep, we did those yesterday too. It’s all set to be recorded,” Ray told him pushing the desk against the only white wall in the room, and setting it up so they can use it for the show. “All we need is the scripts we’re going to be using.”
Gabe popped up from behind the desk, clutching a stack of papers. “Which I’ve got right here!”
The sports marketing teacher nodded his head and started writing things down on his clipboard muttering under his breath. “Good, let’s get the show on the road then,” he told them pulling out a few video cameras from out of the closet and handed them to his students. “Gabe, Ray go get changed. We’ll get it all set up for you so it’ll be ready when you get back.”
“Yes sir,” Gabe shouted, giving his teacher a salute and running out of the classroom clutching his travel bag, a laughing Ray following him.
While his two TV journalists were changing, Andy Hurley and his students set up the room by moving the video cameras and lights they are going to use into place, and fixing the desk so that they get the best view for the show.
“Alright, let’s do this thing!” Gabe yelled looking all snazzy in his white dress shirt, tight black dress pants and thin red tie while he slides into the room with a smirk. Ray came in a few seconds later more composed than Gabe, looping his white tie around his neck and tightening it up to his neck.
“Let’s get this party started,” Ray said, smiling brightly, fro bouncing in excitement and maneuvering around the cameras and the desk to sit down on the rolling chair the crew set up behind their desk.
Alex Suarez, the geeky camera guy, peeks out from behind his camera and started counting down on his fingers from five, mouthing the numbers as he goes. When he hits one, he gives a thumbs up and points to Gabe.
“Hi, I’m Gabe Saporta. This here is my co-host Ray Toro-” he paused to point to his friend sitting next to him and lets Ray wave to the camera before continuing. “And you’re watching the newest installment of CSPN.”
“Last Friday our James Wood Colonel football players played a heard fought game against the Coastline Beavers with a score of 14 -7,” Ray said only looking down at his sheet once, to check the score. “The Colonel players were lead by senior quarter back Joe Trohman and senior running back Frank Iero, who scored the winning touchdown in the last ten seconds of the game.”
“Woo whoo! Go Iero!” Ryland shouted from behind the cameras doing a little dance, causing Gabe and Ray to laugh and shake their heads.
Alex slides the camera from Ray and pans out the zoom to get them both in the shot. “Here are some of the highlights from Friday’s game,” Gabe said, letting the cameramen know that they will edit in the video clips there as they stop taping.
“After the video clips,” Mr. Hurley said from the back of the room, leaning against the wall. “We’ll edit in the interview with Frank and Bob that Gabe and Ray are taping this afternoon.” Alex gave the teacher a thumbs up, counted down backwards from five and gave Gabe the go ahead to start talking.
“Our lady Colonel Volleyball team took out Hedgesville Thursday night, on their own turf with a score of 3 - 1,” Gabe said, nodding off to Ray.
“Let’s go to some clips from Thursday,” Ray said, shifting in his swirly chair. The cameraman nodded and stopped playing once again, so that the editors can put in the clips from the game.
Mr. Hurley moves forward to fix a set of lights that were leaving a small shadow on Ray’s face and walked over to Alex who was playing with the camera. “It’s looking good boys. What do we have next?”
Alex opens his mouth to answer, but Gabe piped up from behind the desk, “We’ve got the track meet left sir,” causing his mouth to snap shut. The marketing teacher nodded his head and moved back to his spot in the back of the room. Once he was out of sight, Alex glared at Gabe heatedly. Gabe just smirked at the angry cameraman.
Alex rolled his eyes and pointed at Ray to let him know they started taping. “What a good game, right Gabe?”
“It was a very good game Ray,” Gabe answered clapping his hands in an excited manner for the volleyball players.
Ray nodded causing his fro to bounce wildly and smiled towards the camera. “Last, but certainly not least, we’ve got the results from the track meet that went on last weekend,” Ray told the camera, picking up his script and tapping them on the table to straighten them out.
“We sent out our follow journalist, Ryland Blackinton to the meet on Saturday to interview a few of our runners,” Gabe spoke reaching out to pick up the glass of water to take a long gulp. He sighed and smiled brightly at the camera, being the big attention whore he is.
“Ryland should’ve joined track. I’m sure he would take the long jump no problem with those long legs,” Ray joked, chuckling a bit at Ryland’s indignant stare.
Gabe laughed too and claps his hand on Ray’s back. “Here are a few clips from the track meet,”
“And, Ryland’s interviews with three of James Wood’ best runners: Maja Ivarsson, who’s also on the cheer team-” Ray paused as Gabe bounced in his chair, letting him know that Gabe was just dying to say something.
“She has got to have leg muscles of steel Ray,” Gabe added during Ray’s pause. “I’ve been to one of the cheer practices. And damn, Gerard is really not kidding around.”
Ray rolled his eyes and continued, “-Nate Novarro, and our very own cameraman Alex Suarez.” Behind the camera, Alex grinned happily and zooms out the lenses to get both Gabe and Ray in the shot as they gesture off screen.
“During this pause, the interviews and track meet clips will be played,” Alex confirmed setting up his camera for the last shot of this week’s episode. Mr. Hurley gave a lazy thumbs up to Alex, who in turn points to the host’s.
“That’s all we’ve got on this week’s episode of CSPN,” Gabe announced with a grin. “’Till next time, I’m Gabe Saporta.”
“And I’m Ray Toro,” Ray added immediately after Gabe, with a grin of his own and turned towards Gabe, raising an eyebrow.
“Thanks for watching!” They shout simultaneously, waving erratically at the camera as Alex pans out to get them both in the shot, and stopped recording.
“And that’s a wrap!”
*
Art was Gerard’s favorite subject. Most students at the school think he was just the head cheerleader; he must be a dumb slut with no talent and they would be completely wrong. He happens to be a straight A student and an extremely good artist; he just doesn’t want too many people to know. His reputation was on the line here.
“The painting’s looking good Gerard,” Mr. McCoy said standing over Gerard’s shoulder as he moved the brush in his hand over the colorful canvas on the easel in front of him. The cheerleader craned his neck and smiled at his teacher in thanks. “Alright class, that’s it for today. Make sure to clean your brushes really well and set your canvas’ in the closet to dry. We’ll start with this again on Thursday.”
Gerard sighed and rolled his shoulders, stretching his muscles so he doesn’t cramp up. He has got practice after school and he wants to be at his best. “Have a good afternoon Mr. McCoy,” Gerard shouted on his way out of the art room.
“Hey Gerard, wait up!” Lindsey screamed from down the hallway, her pigtails flying around her head as she runs to catch up with her best friend. Gerard brushed a piece of his hair out of his eyes and laughed. “I’ve got something important to tell you.” He stopped short at that piece of information and turned around quickly.
“What’s up?” Gerard asked as his friend finally comes to a stop beside him. Lindsey dropped her hands to her knees and leaned over trying to catch her breath.
“It’s- about- Frank,” She gasped out between deep gulps of air.
Gerard raised a perfect eyebrow and patted her on the back tenderly. “Take it easy Lindsey,” he told her lifting her arms off of her knees and raises them in the air over her head. “You know that leaning over doesn’t help your breathing.”
Lindsey lets out an unsteady breath before she stands up straight. “You’re not going to like this Gerard,” she told him putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve heard some, things.”
“What kind of things?” he asked bemused, tilting his head to the side just a little, his eyebrow still raised.
Lindsey grimaced and shifted uneasily in her heels. “Well,” she started looking away from her friends hazel eyes for a second before looking back at him. “There’s no easy way to say this so, I’m just gonna say it,” she paused for a second and said in one breath, “Frank’s taken and apparently he’s a huge man slut.”
Gerard chuckled. “Slow down Lyn, I couldn’t understand a word you said,” he told her shaking his head.
“Frank’s dating that blonde dude he’s always with,” she said watching her friend’s face fall. “And I heard through the grapevine that Frank’s been around the block a few times.”
“Oh,” the male cheerleader mumbled dropping his head, black hair falling down in front of his kohl lined hazel eyes.
Lindsey wrapped her arms around Gerard tightly, rubbing his back trying to soothe her distressed friend. “I’m so sorry Gerard,” she whispered in his ear. “I knew how much you liked him.”
Gerard snuffled sadly into his friends black vest and hugs her back just as tightly. “That’s okay Lyn, it’s not your fault,” he mumbled miserably letting go of her vest, padding down the wrinkles his fists made in the fabric, and stepping away from his friends embrace. “I’ve gotta go to class now, I’ll see you after school.”
*
It wasn’t until Frank was rushing to practice after school that he finally figured why everyone was whispering and pointing at him.
“Fuckin’ Jamia is fuckin’ spreading rumors about me Bob!” Frank exclaimed as soon as he saw him in the almost empty locker-room.
The lineman just gave his friend a bored look as he strapped his padding on his shoulders. “Okay and…” Bob makes a ‘go on’ gesture with his right hand as he picked up his helmet.
Frank made a disgruntled noise and stomped about the room like a little kid that didn’t get any cookies even after they waited until after dinner. “Jamia. Spread rumors. About us.”
“Wait, just one second,” Bob said grabbing Frank’s shoulder, stopping him from kicking a locker. “About us? You said she was spreading rumor about you.” He poked Frank’s chest harshly.
“Ow,” Frank whimpered rubbing his chest. “That really hurt Bob.”
Bob rolled his eyes and scratched at his beard. “Suck it up you big baby,” he told his friend flicking his ear lightly. “Now, what kinds of rumors are being spread?”
“Well,” Frank drawled, rubbing the toe of his sneaker in circles on the concrete. “There are a few rumors saying that we’re in a relationship and I cheat on you every weekend.”
The blonde goes extremely still, bright blue eyes comically wide. “WHAT!?”
His scream was so loud that the cheerleaders, who were practicing out on the field alongside the football players stopped cheering.
“What in the hell?” Ashlee muttered tilting her head to the side causing her ponytail to swing and dropping her arms back to her sides. That started a wave of whispers throughout the group of girls all wondering the same thing. What just happened?
Gerard cocked his hip to the side flicking a stray piece of bang out of his eyes, a frown making its way across his pale face, and threw his arms up in the air exasperated. “Never mind that little interruption girls!” Gerard yelled, getting his cheerleaders attention. “Let’s start from the beginning of the second sideline cheer.”
“They say we are the greatest, we are the best, we are the C-O-L-O-N-E-L-S.” They shout in sync with one another and clapping along with the cheer.
Back in the locker-room, Bob was pacing across the floor furiously mumbling death threats under his breath. Frank chewed on his thumb nail nervously, bits of black nail polish fluttering to the ground around him. He has never seen Bob so angry in his life.
“Alright,” the blonde said, five minutes later when he finally calmed down. “What are we going to do?” Frank shrugged anxiously. He was more worried about if Gerard heard about these lies.
Just as Bob opened his mouth to speak again, their coach bangs open the door to the locker-room and yelled, “Get your asses out on the field! We’ve got work to do!”
“Yes sir,” the two football players shouted out at the same time and adding in a salute to their coach sarcastically. Coach Schechter grunts in reply and walked back out.
As soon as Coach left the room, he hurried to his locker and swiftly got his padding on. Bob, who was already dressed and ready for practice, leaned against the row of gym lockers and snickered at Frank’s attempt at getting his pads on in a rush.
“We’ll talk about this after practice,” Bob told his friend once he was done getting dressed. Frank nodded while tying his cleats tightly.
“Sounds good to me,” he replied getting up off the bench and leaving the locker-room, the burly blonde following close behind.
Frank and Bob were mumbling quietly to each other as they walked out of the locker-room when they saw trouble in the flesh sitting in the stands, and - oh, fuck this shit - she was talking to CSPN hosts Gabe and Ray.
“I bet she’s telling them rumors about us!” Frank whispered frantically to the lineman, staring up at the stands where Jamia was sitting talking, sometimes pointing down to the field basically confirming Frank’s suspicion, to their classmates Gabe and Ray who were here to interview them after practice.
Frank looked at the cheerleaders out of the corner of his eyes who are clapping their hands, shaking their asses, and yelling out cheers. He notices that Gerard was looking absolutely stunning today, even though he was sweating and panting.
“James Wood Colonels the name you will fear. We’re on our way to the top, this is our year. So come on fans make some noise, we’re going for a win. JWHS, we’re back once again, COLONELS!” They screamed to the almost empty bleachers, after two more cheers they stopped to get a drink of water.
“Looking good ladies!” Gerard shouted to his teammates, as they got back into formation. “One more sideline cheer and then you can go.” Once he got his girls to quiet down, he noticed Frank and Bob coming out of the locker-room to head out onto the field, heads bent towards each other.
Ashlee clapped him on the shoulder gently as she walked past him to get in line and mumbled “Don’t let him get you down. You deserve better Gee,” Gerard smiled at her gratefully and clapped his hands.
“Hey, hey. Let’s go blue, let’s go big blue.” They cheer loud enough that the entire football players look over at them and catcall, causing the football coach to glare at them.
“Alright ladies, since you can’t seem to pay attention… let’s run some sprints!” Schechter shouted at his team, getting their attention. “Go, go, go!”
Frank pulled his eyes away from a sweaty Gerard long enough to start running with the rest of the team from the ten yard line down to the fifty yard line in repetitions of five. Once they finished their sprints, they did a few more warm ups before they got into their respective drills.
When Frank could finally look back over to Gerard and the cheerleaders, they were already gone. “Dammit,” he muttered under his breath as he stepped up for his turn at a passing drill.
After practice Frank limped off to the showers all sweaty and gross, his right arm wrapped around Bob’s shoulders and his left hand holding onto his blue helmet. His teammates were really hard on him today, for some odd reason.
“They kept yelling, ‘This is for the puppies!’ at me before they tackled me,” Frank whined as Bob brought him into the locker-room and setting him down on the bench.
“Well,” Bob started then paused, rubbing his blonde beard in thought. “I - um - don’t know what to say to that.”
Frank pulled off his shoulder pads and untied his cleats so he could lean over to rub his sore ankles. “They were so harsh Bob,” he complained sitting up to pull off the gloves he was wearing. “We’re the hell were you? I was getting pummeled out there. You were supposed to save me!”
Bob shrugged his padded shoulders and opened his locker. “I was trying too, but I kept getting stopped,” his voice was muffled from under his jersey and pads that he pulled off his body. “Someone tripped me.”
“Gerard had to have heard by now,” Frank sighed and stood up to go to the showers, his head bowed and feet dragging across the cement flooring.
“We’ll figure out something Frank,” Bob said after his friend left. “Don’t you worry.”
*
The rest of the week passed quickly for Patrick and before he knew it, he was picking up his boyfriend Pete from his house to go to Ashlee’s party. That he really wasn’t very excited for. Every time that Pete went to a party he got extremely drunk, flirted with everyone, and grinded on people while he danced. He knew that Pete had a bit of a wandering eye, but he just can’t take the jealousy anymore. It was eating him alive; he has to talk to his boyfriend.
“Pete, I think we need to talk,” Patrick told his boyfriend as soon as he got in the car.
Pete waved his hand about distractedly; pulling down the mirror in the visor above his head to make sure his eyeliner still looked good. “Sure, sure in a minute.”
“Okay,” Patrick drawled, putting his Sedan in gear. He made sure he looked both ways before pulling out of the Wentz’s driveway and driving down the street towards Ashlee’s house.
“Oh, Oh!” Pete exclaimed a few minutes later as he put the visor back up. “Can we pick up Gabe, Ray, and William; they’re all at Gabe’s house. They called while I was getting ready.” Pete gave Patrick his best puppy dog eyes and pouted.
Patrick groaned and looked away from Pete. “No, no, no, nooooo,” Patrick said firmly, drawling out the last ‘o’ with a shake of his head. “No, Pete that is not going to work on me.”
“Please…” Pete whined, batting his long black eyelashes in an exaggerated manner.
The strawberry blonde took a chance and looked at his boyfriend for a fleeting second. And that’s all it took. “Jeez, fine. I’ll pick them up,” he said with a sigh.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you baby!” Pete yelled, giving his hat wearing boyfriend a quick and sloppy kiss on the cheek after every thank you. “I’ll call them back and let them know we’re on the way.” Pete pulled out his phone, dialed Gabe’s home number, and immediately started chatting away.
Patrick rolled his eyes and turned his car around now on his way to Gabe’s house. “Can’t believe I feel for the puppy dog eyes again,” he muttered under his breath, turning on his blinkers as he came to Gabe’s.
Pete hung up the phone just as they pulled into Gabe’s driveway. “They’re on their way down now,” he told Patrick, pocketing his phone. “Oh, I just remembered. You wanted to talk to me about something?”
“Never mind it’s not that important. I’ll talk to you about it later,” Patrick told his boyfriend sullenly as he parked his Sedan and waited for Pete’s friends to come out of the house.
“Okay, if you’re sure,” Pete chirped smiling brightly as he saw his best friends walk out of the front door. He rolled down the window and waved spastically, causing his friends to laugh at his obnoxious actions.
Patrick mumbled a reply that fell on deaf ears and rolled his eyes. The rest of the drive to Ashlee’s house was pretty uneventful, unless you count Gabe mooning an old lady and William screaming out the window at passersby, flicking them off as soon as Patrick drove away, eventful.
The party was in full swing as they drove up to the house, just a little late or fashionably late as Pete would say. And already they could hear the extremely loud dance music that was thumping from inside the house, crowds of young people walking in and out of the front door clutching red plastic cups, slightly swaying and holding on to one another, and the multicolored bright disco type lights that were shining out from the windows, nearly blinding Patrick as he pulled up on the curb and parked.
Patrick’s Sedan had barely stopped moving before Pete and the gang scrambled out from the car, whooping and hollering, fist pumping, the whole nine yards. Well, all except Ray who got out carefully dunking his head low under the frame fixed his fro with a smirk and fucking swaggered through the front door.
With a poignant sigh, Patrick locked the doors to his SUV and walked up the front steps, his head hung low and his hat pulled down to his eyebrows.
“Heyy Patrick, what’s cracking?” Brendon drawled in his ear, his words slurring from the amount of alcohol he consumed, as soon as Patrick stepped through the front door.
The shorter boy cringed and shuffled away from the wave of alcohol stained breath that assaulted his nostrils. After a few seconds of him silently wishing Brendon would lose interest and walk away; Patrick lost hope.
“Hey Brendon.” He answered, disinterest in his tone as he put on a fake smile, tucked his hands deep inside his pockets, and nodded politely at the sophomore.
The brown haired boy grinned slowly mouth opening to reply when his glazed eyes shifted from Patrick who was slowly shifting away, to someone behind him. “Ryan Rossy!” Brendon shouted excitedly over Patrick’s shoulder. Ryan, the boy in question, turned his head towards them cautiously and waved courteously before walking away briskly. “Hey. Hey, Ryan wait up!”
Patrick sighed in relief as Brendon stumbled off after the journalist, screaming and knocking people over in his journey. “Thank god.” He mumbled, walking off to search for his boyfriend in the sea of gyrating people.
“Hey Ray,” Patrick yelled over the obnoxious techno music that was playing. “Have you seen Pete?”
Ray shook his head, shrugged his shoulders and mouths ‘sorry’ to the shorter man. Patrick frowned and patted his friend on the back before walking away, eyes scanning the dance floor for that familiar head of black hair.
He finds his boyfriend five minutes later grinding on some really tall, almost feminine looking boy, wearing white rimmed glasses and a ratty gray beanie. Of course, that was after he ran into Bob, the big scary lineman who was talking to his fellow teammate, Frank the short manic running back. Who did something really different with his hair, Patrick thought idly after he apologized profusely to the blonde and speed off hastily.
Patrick waits a few moments, watching his boyfriend dirty dance with someone else before he started to shout out his name to get his attention. “Pete.” He whispered sadly after a few minutes of screaming for his boyfriend.
“Patrick, you okay?” Spencer asked the drum major, who looked positively crushed. Following his friends eyesight, he immediately knows that Patrick’s not okay.
“I’m fine Spencer,” he snapped turning away from the sight of his boyfriend and some random guy dancing and marched towards the kitchen. “I need a drink.”
The junior drum major shook his head at Pete and took off after his jealous friend. “Patrick,” Spencer said quietly following his friend into the kitchen. He was surprised that as soon as the door shuts to the kitchen the music almost completely silent. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean anything by it.”
White hot jealously clouded Patrick’s thoughts as he stormed off to the fridge with a huff and grabbed a beer. “Yeah right, he’s been doing this since we’ve been dating.”
“You know that I can’t let you drive home if you drink that,” Spencer said pointing towards the alcoholic beverage in Patrick’s hand.
“Fine,” the strawberry blonde hissed, setting the beer back in the fridge and pouting against the counter.
Spencer gave his friend a sympathetic look and grabbed his left arm. “Come on, let’s people watch for a while then,” he said with a shy smile. When Patrick gave him this ‘are you kidding me’ look he added, “To - ya know - get your mind off things.”
“Alright,” Patrick agreed, looking longingly at the fridge one more time before letting himself be dragged back out into the living room; where the music once again boomed so loud that the senior swears the bass makes his bones start to rattle.
Spencer weaved in and out of groups of dancing students, cliques of gossiping girls, and a moping Gerard who’s sitting on the steps with two of his cheerleaders, one being the host of the party, Ashlee.
“I think her name is Lindsey,” the brown haired junior whispered to Patrick when he noticed him looking at the pigtailed cheerleader murmuring to her pouting friend and pulled him past Gerard to the top of the steps where they sat down. “From what I’ve heard, Gerard has a crush on Frank -”
Patrick mumbled something incoherently at least trying seem like he was paying attention, glaring at the lanky brown haired boy that’s dancing with his boyfriend. “What does he have that I don’t?” he asked rhetorically pushing his glasses up higher on his nose. “So what, he’s skinnier. Okay, maybe he’s even a little prettier; apparently he’s a good dancer…”
“-But from what Jon told me at lunch the other day, Gerard’s crush is unrequited,” Spencer rambled, snapping his fingers in front of Patrick’s face to get his attention. “He told me that Frank’s dating that big blonde guy he’s always with.”
“His name’s Bob. Bob Bryar, he’s a lineman on the football team.” Patrick added his eyes shifting momentarily from Pete who’s now dancing with someone new, a cheerleader he thought furiously, to the corner where Bob was gesturing wildly to Frank who’s looking towards Gerard miserably.
He opens his mouth - probably to say something about how Gerard’s crush doesn’t seem so farfetched after all, but it snapped shut with a harsh click when he glanced back at his boyfriend. Tears threaten to fall from his eyes at the sight of Pete’s tongue down some random guy’s throat. “I’ll see you later Spencer,” he said snuffling, getting up from his position on the stairs. “I’m suddenly not in the mood to party anymore.”
“Patrick wait!” Spencer yelled rushing after his friend who’s stomping out the front door. “I’m sure he didn’t-” he added pushing past Brendon and William arguing over who’s the better cheerleader - with an amused Jon and Ryan watching, when the door slammed right into his face. “-Mean it.”
Spencer turned around quickly to glower at a clueless Pete who, by now, switched from tonguing some random guy to some random girl. He trudged straight over to the black haired heartbreaker, grabbed the back of his neck, and tugged him backwards. “You little shithead,” he hissed into his ear dragging him into the kitchen. “Do you even know what you’re doing to Patrick?”
“Who the fuck are you?” Pete asked irritably rubbing the back of his sore neck.
Spencer seethed, so extremely livid that he has to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths to calm himself down before he punched the smug little fucker. “You’re worst fuckin’ nightmare,” he replied with a snarl. Pete’s eyes widen fearfully at the look on Spencer’s face. “You don’t deserve him.”
As the angry brown haired boy stomped out of the kitchen, he stopped just short of the front door to grab Jon (who he had finally forgave because, let’s face it Spencer was a push-over when it comes to Jon) and Ryan (who just looked bored from the way he was swirling his brown paisley scarf around his long boney finger) from their one sided conversation with an awfully drunk Brendon and William. “We’re leaving,” he announced dragging two of his best friends out the door making sure to slam it behind them.
“What in the hell just happened?” Ashlee shouted from her place beside Gerard on the steps, once the bang of the slammed door stopped echoing. The whole party just shrugged their shoulders, shaking their heads bemused, and they continue to dance like nothing happened. While the girls start to gossip, Ashlee picked up snippets of their conversations and giggled. By tomorrow there should be a few new rumors going around about students cheating on one another that will, hopefully, get Gerard’s mind off of Frank.
Ashlee sighed and shook her head, red curls bouncing and ruffled Gerard’s hair causing him to swat at her. With a smile she mumbled, “What a party.”
Part Three