nobody will love you like the devil will//frerard/ferard

chapter nine

Frank spends the next few days trying really fucking hard not to think about Gerard, with limited success. His brain just keeps springing it on him when he's minding his own business, fuck you very much, just walking to school or trying to do his homework or clean his room. He keeps catching himself wondering what Gerard would think of this or that, what he'd say if he were there with Frank. It's majorly annoying and generally just a massive un-help. It makes Frank tense and short-tempered, and he feels even worse every time he snaps at someone who doesn't deserve it.

It's a cool, clammy morning, all damp air and washed-out grey sky. Frank already feels sticky and sweaty despite the cold, his shirt clinging to his skin as he trudges up the steepest hill between his house and the school. If there's one thing he hates about Devil's Gap, it's the fucking hills. It's a half-hour walk between his house and school, and that's on a good day if his stupid lungs don't give him any trouble. If he weren't so claustrophobic he'd just get the school bus like all the other kids who don't have cars.

As if on cue, the school bus roars past and drenches his feet and ankles with muddy water left over from last night's rain. He sighs, looking down at the attractive splatter pattern now gracing his school pants. Fucking A. He resigns himself to another bout of pneumonia and another uniform warning, and pushes on up the hill.

***

He gets through the gates just as the bell is ringing, trying to breathe through the thick, cottony feeling in his lungs. Sister Agnes looks kind of disappointed that she's been deprived of a chance to bawl Frank out for something, which cheers him up a little. He slouches over to join the line behind the rest of his class, and they start to file slowly into the chapel for assembly. Frank cringes inwardly at the trail of wet footprints he leaves behind him on the tiles, and promises himself that he'll apologize next time he prays.

Mikey throws Frank a half-assed salute from his seat as he passes and Frank waves back, earning himself a dirty look from sister Agnes. As soon as they've settled into their seats, someone elbows Frank in the ribs, and Frank looks round to see Pete staring at him, wide-eyed.

"You know Mikey Way?" Pete whispers, awed, like Mikey's a fucking movie star or something. On Pete's other side, the sandy-haired kid (who follows him around and apologizes for him when Pete doesn't realize he's pissing people off) looks pained.

"Uh," says Frank, a little thrown. "Kind of? I mean, I know his brother, but Mikey's cool."

"Dude," Pete says. Frank leans away slightly. Pete doesn't seem like a bad guy or anything, he's just kind of scary-intense. He looks practically fucking reverent.

"You should talk to him," mutters Frank when sister Roberta isn't looking their way. "It's not like he's gonna eat your soul or anything."

"Quiet," hisses sister Agnes, and Frank shuts up and looks at the big-ass painting on the chapel wall instead. It's kind of dark. Frank supposes it's important to remember Christ's suffering and all, but it's still kind of off-putting knowing it's just hanging there watching you.

Agostino starts the morning prayers, and Frank bows his head and closes his eyes.

***

The next day goes from bad to worse and then from worse to utter shit. He wakes up feeling all warm and well-rested, then opens his eyes and sees his alarm clock blinking smugly at him, and the nice, sleepy feeling is replaced abruptly by panic. He hops around his room swearing and trying to tie his tie and pull socks on at the same time, then sweeps the top layer of detritus on his desk into his school bag and sprints out of the door.

By the time he gets to school, he's fifteen minutes late, gasping and wheezing and clutching at the stitch in his side.

"Detention," says Sister Agnes with relish. "And tuck that shirt in."

Frank knows better than to talk back. He thinks he should be safe after that, which turns out to be a mistake. Sister Mary Patrick announces the quiz she apparently told them about last week (Frank has absolutely no recollection of this at all), and Frank's pretty sure he fails it spectacularly. Guesswork is a solid tactic for multiple choice questions, but not so good on the finer points of Latin grammar.

By lunchtime, Frank has just about had enough. He doesn't have his homework for any of the classes he's had today – apparently the armful of stuff he crammed into his bag was the wrong armful of stuff, and then just to top it all off he managed to lock his keys in his locker and the sink in the toilets sprayed water all over him so it looks like he's pissed himself. Plus, detention at lunch is horrific. Sister Agnes has him scraping chewed gum off desks and he has to wash his hands for-fucking-ever before they feel clean again.

His phone buzzes halfway through math with a text from Gerard that just says come over, Frank could fucking cry with relief. That's what he needs. Seeing Gerard will make things better. He feels out of step with everything today, like he isn't plugged into the rest of the world or there's a loose connection in there somewhere. Like Gerard is his center of gravity. He fires off a quick text to his mom, telling her he's going to stay late at school to study, and checks the time. Ten minutes to go.

The instant math finishes, he's out of his seat
like it's hot and sprinting out of the door. He's out of there, he's fucking free. He's going to Gerard.