What are we? (Frerard)

Who Are You?

I walked into my next class, happy that I don't have to announce my insignificant presence each period. The room was small and with no windows. It had a chalk bored with the name, "Miss Curt," written in neat cursive in the corner. I sat in the back of the room again. I do this for many reasons, I won't get noticed much by the teacher, I can get away with doodling, I can be at peace with the other shy misfits who also like to hide away in the corner like me. This was my guide to surviving the first day. I've had so many first days of school, I'm practically an expert on how I want things to go, well usually.
I once again cringed as the screech noise of my chair suffused through the cramped class room. In the front corner, a frail women, who I assumed was the teacher sat at her desk with her fingers tapping swiftly at a keyboard. Her eyes squinted at she struggled to see the computer screen through her bifocals that sat on the tip of her nose. Her grey hair was pulled into a tight bun that seemed to pull her face back in a comical way. She looked up from the computer and cleared her throat to cease any conversations done by the students. She then stood up with a huge stack of papers in her hands that she began to pass out. I slid down in my seat a little, and sat back against the chair. Soon the worksheet was distributed amongst the class and it was silent as we worked.
All as peaceful until I felt a sharp poke on my left shoulder. I looked over to see a boy with black hair that was slightly slicked over his forehead but hung over his face, he also had a thick smudge of eyeliner under each eye. He wore this smirk on his face but it had no meaning behind it, so like, him smirking was his natural facial expression. "Hey, can I borrow a pencil?" He whispered. I only nodded and reached for the extra pencil that sat on the front of my desk. I handed it to him then looked back down at my paper. "Thanks!" He said kinda too loudly for my liking.
I felt like kissing the ground once I heard the bell, the ringing in my ears grew louder with every second of silence. "I hate history." The boy from earlier sneered.
"Yeah." I mumbled, I kinda doubt he heard me though.
"Hey, I'm Pete, you're the new kid... Frank right?"
"Yeah." I sighed stuffing one hand into my pocket and the other underneath the shoulder strap of my backpack.
He chuckled at my timorous attitude. "Cool well, welcome to Belleville high!" He said, then gave me a jarring but playful pat on the back. I gave him a nervous smile to show my appreciation for his 'warm' welcome, but didn't hesitate to try and walk away. I don't really have much more to say to Pete. Unfortunately, he walked with me, matching my stride. "You wanna hang at lunch? Since that's where we're headed." He asked.
"Sure." I don't have anybody else. We walked into the cafeteria in awkward silence. Perhaps I was the only one experiencing the uncomfortable vibe. Whenever I glanced up at Pete he had a grin on his face. Makes me wonder what's actually happening inside his head.
I followed him to a table and sat beside him. Lindsay entered the room and dropped herself at the seat right across from me. "Hey Lindsey!" Pete exclaimed happily. Of course they're friends, why wouldn't they be? I groaned internally.
To my surprise, she ignored Pete's greeting. "Hey Frank." She spoke. I nodded a hello then looked over at Pete.
For the first time today a frown appeared on his face from the absolute rejection he got from Lindsey. This made me retract my statement about their friendship. It seems hilariously one sided. Wonder what that's about? I hesitantly sat across from Lindsey and Pete sat beside me.
"Anything happen while I was gone?" She asked leaning against the table.
"No, not really-"
"Hey, Wentz!!" A loud booming voice called out. Before I could even blink, Pete was yanked out of his seat and suspended in air by a fraction of an inch dangling by the collar of his shirt. A shirt that was stuffed into the fist of who I assumed was a first class asshole. From the blond buzz cut to the group of men wearing identical worn out red varsity jackets that stood behind him, this guy basically screamed basic fuck boy.
Lindsay let out a gasp and I jumped up from my seat and backed away from the scenario. "You still owe me money, punk!" His attacker spat in his face.
"Put me down and we'll talk numbers." Pete replied with a hint of humor in his voice. Was this funny? The boy let out a devious chuckle, the sound made me want to puke.
"Just give me the money, Wentz. I ain't dealing with your shit right now." He hissed dropping pete's shirt collar.
"Alright, but you owe me a new shirt, you completely stretched it out! This was my favorite shirt." Frank grumbled under his breath as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and distributed the dollars.
He handed the dude his money and he walked away.
"Dude what the fuck?!" I asked.
Pete smiled, "That's the loudest I've herd you talk since we've met!" He chuckled like all his life achievements were reached.
I scoffed, "Seriously, though." I pushed. He just shrugged.
"I owed him money, he has a temper. End of story." He replied.
I'm not gonna keep prying because it's really none of my business.
I plopped back down in my seat and leaned my head in my hands. I realized how wrong I was about the sitting in the back of the class thing. Just because you're sitting in the back defiantly doesn't make you shy, Pete has defiantly proved that. I feel like he's the kinda guy who's loud with people. He's the joker that gets on everyone's nerves, his ego clouds his brain and makes every situation hilarious or sarcastic. He doesn't care who gets mad or offended or how he gets judged. I just made friends with the polar opposite of me.
This makes me pounder what else is false about my expectations of surviving this new school.
Pete rushed off to some other friends of his, leaving Lindsey and I alone. "So what was that about?" Lindsey has to know. She seems close enough to Pete.
"Pete has a problem. He's a total stoner on his free time." She admitted with a hint of disappointment on her tone. "He's around the wrong people doing the wrong things." Her facial features got stern as she continued to explain. You can tell Lindsey wants nothing more than for him to do the right thing.
"Is that why you're angry with him?"
"I'm just tired of always being his babysitter, you know?"
"I understand why you'd hate that, but I don't really know much else." I'm not familiar with Pete so I don't know what their relationship was like.
"I'm always the one to pick him up from some stupid party where he'd either be too high or too drunk to even walk. That's not what a friendship is." She looked down at the table and her hair fell into her face but I could still see the frown that stained her thin lips. "That's not even the worst part, whenever I try to talk to Pete about his problems he just brushes me off or gets angry then starts the whole process over again."
"We all do stupid stuff Lindsey." I tried to defend.
"I know. Trust me, but it's hard to watch someone slowly destroy themselves. Maybe you'll see what I mean someday." Without another word she stood up and left the cafeteria. I definitely picked at a delicate topic and it really was none of my business.
It's the first day and I can already tell I've signed up for more than I can handle.