Gerard Way X Reader Oneshots/imagines

Chapter 3. Misfits pt.2

WARNINGS: Same as part 1.

{Time skip}

Y/N POV
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The bell rang and everybody started spilling out of the classrooms into the hallway.
I opened my locker, getting accidentally pushed up against it by all of the passing students.
I unlocked my locker door and shoved my Algebra books on the shelf.
"Hey there." I rolled my eyes and shut my locker.
"What do you want, Thomas?"
"A date with you to the prom. See, all of the other girls in the grade are taken and I don't want to seem smol to the seniors."
Of course I was last pick.
That's how it always has been.
"No, sorry." I murmured and opened my locker again, blocking his face.
"Fine, you're the one missing out." He sneered then walked away.
Thomas Finnigan has always been a doosh, but I try not to let it get to me.
He flirts with me in a dooshy way and it's really awkward.
Anyway, I shut my locker door then locked it.
I turned around and shoved passed the mob of students pilling out of classes.
I kept my backpack held closely over my shoulders, because walking through hishschool is like walking through Iraq.

I walked out in the parking lot where some students were getting in their cars, others boarding the busses in the back parking lot.
My Dad was supposed to pick me up.
He says he works late, but the truth is he just stays at the bars late.
As the busses and cars started piling out of the parking lot, I sat down on the sidewalk.
I was going to be there awhile, I knew.
A couple of girls walked out, specifically the cheerleaders.
They ignore me, thank God.
Those girls have major issues, they're so fake- but they're so pretty. They're like if barbie got breast implants.

I watched the sun start to set and soon all of the cars were gone from the lot, except one, which I assumed was the principal's, because he stays late to finish paperwork and stuff.
I grabbed my backpack and opened it, may as well do some homework while I wait on my dad.
I pulled out my art folder from my bag, then set my bag next to me on the sidewalk after pulling out a pencil.
Mr.Way wants a whole drawing by tomorrow. Shading and everything...
I forgot the assignment... Great...
I've noticed I've been forgetting things a lot lately ever since I've been skipping lunch and dinner.
I would just brush it off though, because well, who cares?
Not my family, I have no friends, and nobody at school cares...
"What're you doing still here?"
I almost jumped at the sound from behind me.
I turned my head to my left and Mr.Way sat next to me on the sidewalk.
I wonder why he's still here...
"Why're you?"
"I'm waiting on my dad to pick me up." I stated and he looked out in the parking lot.
"Work late?"
"That's what he says."
I muttered sarcastically, looking back down at the blank paper in my hands.
I could tell he was looking at me, but I ignored it.
"What was the assignment?"
"What you're feeling."
"At the moment?"
"Yeah."
He said and I looked at the paper. I feel like a mess. How I'll draw that? Just scribble lines on the paper.
"Would you take a paper that's just all black?" I joked sarcastically, kind of wanting to know though for real.
"Yes." He stated, which surprised me a bit. "Why?" "Because the assignment is what you're feeling. If you feel empty, I'll still take the paper."
"But it's just a paper."
"Do you feel like just a paper?"
He asked bluntly and I shrugged, still not looking at him.
"I guess so."
"You know you should talk to someone. The school counselor is a good place to start."
"Mr.Way, I'm fi-"
"No you're not. Don't lie. I've been where you are before." He stated and I furrowed my brows, finally looking at him.
"You were?"
"Yeah. Look, the truth is that we spend our whole lives trying to fit into some group, trying to find somebody to accept us. So we take away from who we really are, so somebody would talk to us or let us in their clique. We loose sight of what's really important."
"And what's that?"
"Who you really are."
He said simply and I smiled to myself weakly, looking back at the blank paper.
"How do I know who I really am?"
"You already know who you really are."
I guess he's right... I mean, it makes sense...
"The popular kids have something everybody else is missing."
"What is it?"
"Confidence."
"I'm not confident."
"Nobody ever is when they're your age. They just fake it."
He stated and I smiled and looked at him, "How much longer will you be here?"
"Until tomorrow."
"Why are you leaving so soon?"
"I want to get out of here. Teenagers scare the living shit out of me." He stated and I laughed.
"Why?"
"I think you know the answer to that one, Y/n." He said sarcastically with a small smirk and I nodded and giggled.
"Yeah." I murmured then looked back at my blank paper and started sketching.
A few more minutes went by, "Do you need a ride home?"
"I don't know if you're a murderer."
"Well you have a better chance of surviving with a sober driver."
"How did you know my dad drinks?"
"The look on your face when I asked if he works late."
"Oh... Okay." I stood up.
He drove me home and made sure I walked inside before driving off.
I like him.
I wish he would've stayed.
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tHe eND