Emoprinces37• Show stories

• Last seen 2 days ago. Member since April 22.
• My mood is , and quote is "I miss him!".
• I am a 15 year old girl (United States)
• When I'm not writing, I'm shopping, reading, listening to music or talking to my bf.
• 
• I am in the groups GSA Gay Straight Alliance, In Love with a Vampire, Seeing Is Believing, Sweeney Todd, Sweet Cravings, The Group for Anyone, The Ultimate Chat Group, Vampire Romance, Write For My Life
• I have 40 comments, 62 stories

Stories I'm focused on

• My Very Own Demolition Love(An MCR Fan-Fic) Chapter 1

  “Hey, what are you guys doing in here?” I heard Frank Iero call. Gerard was at the mike, testing it with the lame ‘Test, 1, 2, 3.’

  2100 words, September 9
• *Untitled* Prolouge

  1300 words, 1 comment, July 29
• That's What You Get In Hollywood: Chapter 1

  1500 words, 2 comments, May 31. In Adult, Drugs, Fiction, Hollywood, Humor, Mature, Parties, Romance, Sex

My Stories

• My Very Own Demolition Love Chapter 28: Months Gone By

  And then…mostly likely the last time I would be a part of a happy relationship with Gerard Way.
  

  300 words, 1 comment, November 19
• My Very Own Demolition Love Chapter 27: The Damage

  He has a few broken ribs, a broken arm and leg, he recovered from a coma, there was some internal bleeding, he had burns on his torso and a

  500 words, 1 comment, November 2
• My Very Own Demolition Love Chapter 26: Going Home Safe

  He kissed my cheek and ran after his brother who was no longer conscious.

  300 words, November 2
• My Very Own Demoltion Love Chapter 25: Zane's Story

  I took the only chance I thought I would get and I aimed, and fired the gun.
  

  500 words, October 27

Guest Book

• serebear : I don't know if that thing sent so sorry if it did. But here it is again. on September 12

  
  Title: High School Will Never Hurt You (Frank Iero) Part 1...The Student Has Become the Teacher
  Later, I would view the falling-off-the-bed incident as a sign of things to come. Shock, quickly followed by annoyance - then a sudden drop and bruises and the floor, all before my heart had a chance to slow down or my brain to fully register what was happening. It actually followed the events about to take place pretty accurately. But at the time I didn't care about mystical omens of disruptions in my life. It just hurt.
  
  "Aahhhh!!!!" The sound of my new alarm clock sounded like a fire alarm, causing me to sit bolt upright in bed and fumble around in the dark trying to find the source of the noise. My poor brain couldn't understand the concept of "new alarm clock" so early in the morning, and I thrashed around trying to find and escape from whatever was causing the ungodly sound. My legs were still tangled in the sheets from some apparently vivid but now forgotten dream, and I was trying to free myself from them and simultaneously stop the caterwauling alarm clock - and then I was in the air. And then I was on the ground. And in pain. My flailing arms had connected with the side of my nightstand, my head had hit the floor, and my leg had hit the corner of my desk (I don't know how, it was on the other side of the room. But it was a small room, after all).
  "Ugh," I groaned as I just lay there on the floor, assessing the damage to my poor, banged-up body. When I decided that nothing had been seriously injured, I slowly pushed myself off the floor. My head wa ringing. No, wait, that was the goddamn-mother-fucking-son-of-a-bitch alarm clock. I could more-or-less see now, and I narrowed my eyes at the offending black box. I picked it up and switched it off, then casually hurled it across the room.
  Pushing the sheets off my legs, I lay back on my bed with a sigh. I had a headache.
  "Fuck," I muttered.
  
  After I had sufficiently recovered from my little "ephisode", I stumbled to my bathroom to survey the damage. I could already see twin bruises forming on my forearms from where they had hit the nightstand, and the outside of my right calf was slowly turning purple. I sighed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes; I was going to look like a battering case by the time I got to school.
  I quickly washed my face and brushed my teeth and did the best I could with my hair before trudging downstairs to get some breakfast. Still in the t-shirt and sweatpants I slept in, I padded into the kitchen and mumbled a greeting to my mother, who was almost ready to leave for work.
  "Good morning sweetheart," she said briskly, pausing from downing her cup of coffee. "Did you sleep well?"
  "Mmm"
  "I see. Well, maybe next time you shouldn't sleep so late on Sunday. It keeps you up all night."
  "Mmm"
  "Well, it's just something to consider. Bye sweetheart, say hi to your father if you see him before you leave." she called as she walked out the door.
  "Mm'kay. Bye." I called after her, before grabbing an apple and shuffling back up to my room. I quickly pulled on my uniform, pulling the navy blazer on over the hastily buttoned white Oxford.
  Quickly applying a little make-up, so as to avoid looking like a corpse, I sighed as I caught my full reflection in the mirror. I could honesty just shoot myself for being forced to dress like this every day. I mean I was wearing knee socks for God's sake.
  I raked my fingers through my hair one last time before grabbing my bookbag from its resting place on the floor and hurried downstairs, passing my father in the hallway.
  "Morning, Iz," he said sleepily.
  "Morning Dad, Mom says hi," I said quickly as I hastily pulled on my beat-up sneakers.
  He smiled, "Another early meeting?"
  "Yep, but she should be home by the regular time, though."
  "That's good. Have a good day sweetie," he called after me.
  "Yeah, you too," I replied before closing the front door and quickly walking over to my car. It was a rusty, black Volvo, which my dad had insisted I have if I was going to drive because of its "superior, Swedish-designed safety features." It was reassuring to know he had so much faith in my driving skills.
  I threw my bag on the passenger seat before turning on the engine. Once I was sure it would run all the way to school. I turned on the radio, humming along to a few songs as I navigated the webs of roads to my highschool.
  
  I pulled into the parking lot earlier than I had expected, since traffic had been unusually light that morning, so I got to park nearer to the building than I usually did. Grabbing my bag again, I hurried through the imposing oak doors and down the hallway to my locker. I had just spun the final number of my combination and was pulling my locker open when the familiar monotonous voice came over the loudspeaker.
  "Would Isabelle Monahan please come to the guidance office. Isabelle Monahan to the guidance office."
  I growled and slammed my locker door shut again. As I made my way down the hallway, I couldn't help wondering what this was about. Among my group of friends, I was notorious for being a goody-two-shoes, with what my best friend Mari called "a series Jiminy Cricket complex."
  I had been so immersed in the reasons why I had been called to the office, that I almost didn't notice when I walked past it. I stood in front of the closed door that said
  'Mrs. Schnider, Guidance'
  on it, before knocking twice.
  "Come in," came a voice I recognized as one of the school's guidance councilors. I had seen her a few times because some of my teachers were afraid I was going to overload on work with all the advanced courses I was taking. Pshaw.
  "Ah, Miss Monahan, thank you for coming. Sit down," said Mrs. Schnider, gesturing to the one unoccupied chair in the room.
  It was then that I noticed the other two occupants of the room. They both were sitting in chairs facing Mrs. Schnider's desk. The one sitting closest to me was a boy of about seventeen, with unkempt, slightly dirty black hair that was long and fell in his face. His eye were a surprisingly bright, clear hazel and they stared at me, an amused but friendly smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The other was another boy who seemed about the same age, maybe a little younger. He too had black hair, cut long in the front (although not as long as the first boy's) and short and piecey in the back. The sun coming from the window glinted off the rings in his lip and nose. He looked at me disinterestedly, his eyes unreadable behind black aviator glasses. I wondered what color his eyes were.
  I blinked and shook my head skightly before sitting down next to the boy with the long hair.
  "Now Isabelle, perhaps you know Gerard and Frank," she began, gesturing to the two boys. I glanced over at them again, but didn't reply. I knew them by sight, but nothing more. "Now Isabelle, Mr. Way here has been having a great deal of trouble finding the motivation to study the great field of mathematics. His grades on his latest test were, well, 'pathetic' is the kindest term I can come up with," she said with a humorous smile toward the Long-Haired Kid (Gerard, I guess), who merely grinned at her and ran a hand through his hair. "His math scores are dragging down his GPA, and I really believe he could benefit from some one-on-one help. If he can get his grades up by mid-terms, I might be able to take him off academic probation, making both our lives a lot easier." She leaned back in her chair, causally tapping her pen against the desk.
  "Uh, if you don't mind my asking," I began, leaning foreward in my chair.
  "What's this got to do with you?" she asked with a smile.
  "Well, yeah," I answered, feeling rather nervous now about the knowing gleam in her eye.
  "I want you, Isabelle, to be Gerard's math tutor."
  I blinked.
  She smiled.
  I opened my mouth, closed it. Opened it again. I bet I looked like a dying guppy.
  "Come again?"
  "I want you," she said slowly, gesturing from me to the Long-Haired Kid, "To be Gerard's - math - tutor."
  "But-" I stuttered. This COULD NOT be HAPPENING. I can't teach someone. I don't like teaching. I don't like most people. This is not happening! "But, he's probably ahead of me. I can't teach him what I don't know!"
  "Actaully," Mrs. Schnider began, with that extremely annoying knowing smirk, "Gerard is in Geometry II. You, however, are in Advanced Algebra II, so you're actually ahead of him."
  "Impressive," said the Long-Haired Kid (Gerard), with an impish grin. I ignored him.
  "I can't teach. I don't want to teach. Believe me, you do not want me for your teacher.
  "Oh, I have complete faith in your abilities," she said serenely. "Besides, something you have in common is a certain aversion to school spirit, so you could use the extracurriculars for college applications."
  "Nu-uh!" I shouted, fully aware that I sounded like a petulant eight year old. "I always do the plays. In fact, I'm auditioning for the new one on Friday. I am down with the extracurriculars!"
  I stared with pleading eyes at Mrs. Schnider, pointedly ignoring Gerard's bad attempt to smother his laughter.
  "You know, I'm glad you brought that up Isabelle. I was thinking, since you're all lacking extracurricular, why don't you all audition for the play?" She had that smirk again. I wanted to scream.
  The play? Tutoring?! No! It was too much! Far, far too much! Especially this early in the morning!
  I turned helplessly to Gerard, who had stopped laughing. Instead, he sat thoughtfully, before saying brightly "I've never tried out for a play before. It sounds like fun. What do you say Frankie?"
  This drew my attention back to the other kid, who had been so quiet that I had completely forgotten him in my ranting.
  "Sure, fine," he said in a bored tone. I couldn't tell where he was looking because of the sunglasses, but for some reason I felt like he was staring at me.
  I turned to Mrs. Schnider. "Uh, just out of curiosity- what's he doing here?" I asked, gesturing over at the Sunglasses kid, Frank apparently. "He doesn't need a math tutor, too?!" I asked in a panicked voice. Mrs. Schnider laughed. The Sunglasses Kid (Frank)continued to stare at nothing, but a small smile flitted across his lips.
  "No," said Mrs. Schnider, still laughing, "Mr. Iero has no problems putting his apparently brilliant mind to work, he just feels that it could be put to better use than, oh say, doing his homework. He just needs a, uh, a 'study buddy', shall we say? Someone to keep him on task and make sure that his homework gets done."
  "And you want me to be his...study buddy?" I said in a pained voice.
  "Uh huh" she said. Again with the smirk! I groaned and rubbed my eyes. I needed coffee in the worst way.
  "Well, how am I supposed to make him do his homework? Tell his mommy? Short of physically holding a gun to his head until he uses correct paragraph format, there's not a lot I could do to force anyone to do their homework," I ranted, gesturing to my non-physically-imposing self.
  Frank smirked.
  Gerard giggled. I glared at him. He shut up.
  "I've already spoken with Mr. Iero's parents and they agreed that unless he actually starts turning in assignments, he will no longer be allowed to participate in certain activities. Namely thrashing about wildly onstage with a guitar."
  "She won't let him come to our band's gigs and practices unless he does his homework." Gerard clarified at my questioning look. Frank scowled.
  "Alright," I began, trying a different tact, "Let's say, by happy coincidence, that we all make the play you're forcing them to participate in. When are we supposed to have time for these sure-to-be-thrilling-and-enlightening math tutor/study buddy sessions?" Ha! Answer me THAT you sadistic, aging psychoanalyst!
  "As it happens," she said, with the smirk firmly in place,” the play would have rehearsals Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, and I have you scheduled for tutoring Monday, Wednesday, Friday. It's amazing how that works out." she said, her eyes sparkling with barely concealed laughter.
  I buried my face in my hands - I was out of ideas.
  "Speaking of, I would like you to start said tutoring sessions this Wednesday."
  My head shot up. "Wednesday!!" I sputtered, "But - but that's - that's - day after -"
  "In two days," said Gerard helpfully.
  "Did you see that?! He TOTALLY knew that Wednesday is in two days. This kid does not need a math tutor!" I cried desperately.
  "Nice try Miss Monahan, but tutoring starts right after school on Wednesday. You may go to class now. Oh, and you three might want to get acquainted. You're going to be seeing a lot of each other in the next few months."
  We all got up and walked out of Mrs. Schneider’s office.
  "Oh, and Miss Monahan - pull up your socks." I muttered something about Nazi psychotherapists, and I could hear her laughing as I closed the door. I reached down and tugged up my left sock, which I had pushed down in the car, an unconscious habit.
  "Nice bruise," Gerard commented as I went to pull up my other sock.
  "Thanks. Corner of my desk."
  "How'd you get it way down there?"
  "Fell out of bed."
  "How come?"
  "New alarm clock."
  "Ah," he said, laughing.
  "God, I need coffee," I groaned. Gerard just kept laughing as he and Frank walked down another hallway. I heard his laughter bouncing down the corridor as I headed back to my locker. I spun the combination and retrieved my text books. I sighed, closing the door. It was going to be a very long year.
  High School Will Never Hurt You (Frank Iero) Part 2...We're Going To Be Friends
  
  I plunked myself down at my desk in my first class. I took my usual exhaustive notes, but my heart just wasn't in it. My mind kept flashing back to Frank and Gerard and the fact that I was about to lose the few tattered shreds of a social life I still possessed. Well, I guess that wasn't really what I was upset about. After all, I was never very social to begin with, Alex and Mari usually had to physically drag me to parties and other social gatherings. Maybe it was the fact that it wasn't my choice, or that I didn't know Frank and Gerard and frankly, they made me a little uncomfortable. or maybe it was how they were intruding in the play, which was my domain, not theirs. I think that was closer to the truth. You see, I live in my own little world, one that I have designed very specifically, and just like my room, even though it's cluttered, everything has a given place. I have everything just how I want it. When it comes to people, I don't want to get sucked into their worlds, and I don't want them coming and fucking up mine.
  
  The bell rang, signaling the end of class. I closed my notebook and packed my pens into my bag and walked listlessly into my next class. That was how my day went, aimlessly drifting from class to class, until at last the bell rang for lunch. I hastily shoved my books into my locker and, grabbing my lunch, ran outside to find my two best friends in the world and share my tale of woe. Alex and Mari were sitting in our usual spot under a tree in the courtyard, casually chatting about something. Mari was sitting cross-legged, casually leaned up against the tree, while Alex was sprawled on the ground, idly tossing an orange back and forth between his hands.
  He looked up when he saw me. "Hola, chica!" he said brightly, "What's u- Izzy's what's wrong?"
  "Nnnghnn," was, I felt, the best expression of my horror.
  "Alright, sit down," said Mari, patting her lap, "Tell Auntie Mar and Uncle Als what's up." I groaned and lay down with my head on Mari's lap. Alex propped his chin up on his hands and waited for me to begin. So I related my story, from falling out of bed to how I was now a study buddy/math tutor and how clearly home schooling was the only option for me now.
  "Aw sweetie, I'm sorry," said Mari kindly. Mari's Indian and absolutely lovely. She has thick, glossy, dark hair and the biggest brown eyes you've ever seen in your life. Guys love her because she's spunky and has a nice body. And I don't mean she's build like a supermodel, because she's short and distinctly curvy. Mari is always complaining about her Indian physique and I'm always telling her how I'm jealous of it. She'll say that there's no way I would want her gargantuan butt and I say that I already have a two-big butt, paired with too-small boobs, with a stomach that sticks out, weird hair and a bevy of other problems, at which point Alex will yell in frustration that we're both adorable just the way we are and why do we always have to complain about our just-fine bodies and why do girls have to bond over their so-called imperfections anyway?! And them we say "awww, thank you, Als" and hug him and then we all go out for ice cream. It's a good system.
  Alex is on about sixty different sports teams and this one of the most popular guys at school, which I don't know how he pulls off since he's got an eyebrow ring and blue hair. (Well, actually it was just blue at the moment. It's been brown, blonde, pink, vaguely green, and black.) Alex says life is too short to have one hair color or all your teeth. He's had three teeth chipped or knocked out over the years, from all the sports he plays. The first were actually knocked out, but fortunately they were just baby teeth. The third one was just chipped. It's alright, though, it gives him this adorable, rakish look when he smiles. It makes girls swoon.) But even with all this "women want him, men want to be him" stuff, Mari and I have always been his best friends. He prefers to eat lunch and hang out with me and Mari then his jock buddies.
  The tree of us met the first day of Kindergarten when the teacher placed us in a groups to share a box of crayons. We've been together ever since. Our parents all know each other, we're semi-permanent fixtures at each other's houses, and we all know each other's deepest, darkest, dirtiest secrets (like that Mari once took her pet hamster to the zoo, where it got away and was eaten by a cougar, or that I once got a C- on a math test, or that Alex is actually short for Alexei, since his family is Russian.)
  "Well that sucks, Iz," said Alex, who was now playing with my hair that was fanned out on Mari's lap."But you know what they say about when life gives you lemons,"
  "Make lemonade?" I offered.
  "Nope. You find someone whose life gives them vodka and have yourself a party." Mari and I laughed, while Mari threw some grass at him. "And from what I've heard, Gerard’s life give him vodka, whiskey, and a variety of other alcoholic substances, so you're right on track." I laughed again and threw some more grass at him. He grinned and went back to playing with my hair. People might've started calling Alex a fag for hanging around with girls and having a fixation with hair, if
  he wasn't such a serial dater (with exclusively females). And the fact that he could easily put someone in a wheelchair with his lacrosse stick probably had something to do with it, too.
  Alex loved dating girls, but was rather commitment phobic. Mari on the other hand, had only serious relationship. And me, well, I didn't really date, had never had a boyfriend, and had kissed a grand total of four guys in my lifetime, one of whom was Alex, who doesnt count.
  We sat around talking about nothing until the bell rang signally the end of lunch. Alex jumped up and hauled first me, then Mari to our feet and we walked back to class. As we were walking, I saw Frank, Gerard, and a boy I didn't recognize walking back, too. Frank shook his hair out of his eyes and I thought he might have looked at me for a moment, but I couldn't be sure. He was wearing the sunglasses again I wondered what he looked like without them.
  
  The rest of my day dragged along, until finally it was over. I grabbed my things and ran out to my car, parked conveniently close today. I had just opened the door when I heard a voice that was quickly becoming familiar to me.
  "Isabelle! Hey, Isabelle!" I looked up to see Gerard walking towards me, Frank in tow. "Hey, is this your car?" he asked excitedly.
  "Yes..." I said. I didn't know why he was so excited, my car was a wreck.
  "Could you give Frankie and me a ride?" he said, gesturing to himself and Frank behind him. "We have band practice." I noticed for the first time that Frank had a guitar case slung over his shoulder. And he was still wearing the glasses.
  Just say no. I don't even know them.
  "Sure, where's practice?" Damn. Stupid mouth, do what I tell you!
  "At Ray's house," said Gerard, as if that would clarify it.
  "Ray?"
  "You saw him walking with us at lunch," said Frank, speaking for the first time. So he had been looking at me.
  "The guy with the afro?"
  "That's the one," said Gerard, grinning again and opening the passenger side door.
  "Where's his house?" I asked as I climbed in.
  "Don't worry, I'll give you directions," answered Gerard as Frank and his guitar got into the back seat. I started the engine and Gerard immediately turned on the radio and flicked through all the stations before settling on the one I had it on originally. I was grateful for the noise, the ride would have been one big awkward silence (well, awkward for me anyway, Gerard and Frank seemed perfectly content), broken only by Gerard occasionally calling out directions like "turn left at the thingy" and "okay, turn right here, oops, I mean left, no sorry it's right."
  When we were almost there (according to Gerard), I had to coax my car up a huge hill. "Come on George, that's it boy, just a little further," I murmured, petting the dashboard encouragingly. I realized they were both staring at me.
  "What?"
  "You talk to your car?" asked Frank with a small smile.
  "George just needs a little encouragement on steep hills," I said.
  "You named your car?" asked Frank again.
  "You named your car George?" asked Gerard incredulously.
  "What's wrong with 'George'?" I asked, defensive of my baby (my rusty baby that breaks down all the time and has no air conditioning, but my baby none the less.)
  "'George' is just so ...blah. It sounds old," he said, as if this were a sin.
  "This car is old," I replied.
  "Well, when you get a new one, you'll just have to name it something better," he replied, crossing his arms.
  "Like what, 'Gerard'?" I shot back.
  "Predicament," he replied with a cheeky grin.
  "Fine, if I ever get a new car - and that's a big 'if' - I will name it Gerard. Happy?"
  "Yes!" he cried, clapping his hands. "She's gonna name her car after me," he whispered to Frank proudly. Frank raised his eyebrows in a way to suggest that he had rolled his eyes, but with those damn sunglasses on I couldn't tell.
  "We're here," said Frank suddenly. I hit the brakes a little too hard in my surprise and the back of my head hit the seat.
  "Ow," I muttered.
  "Smooth," grinned Gerard, rubbing his neck. Frank was already getting out, maneuvering his guitar out of the back seat.
  "So, are you guys gonna need a ride home?" I asked as Gerard got out.
  "I'm just gonna walk home, I live pretty close to here," answered Gerard,” What about you, Frankie?"
  "Matt's giving me a ride," he said, and pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. I stared at him a moment before nodding.
  "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then," I said and started to pull out.
  "Bye Izzy!" called Gerard, waving wildly.” Thanks for the ride!" Frank merely waved and turned to start walking towards the house. I gave a small wave to Gerard, before driving away.
  "Well that was...different," I said to no one in particular as I made my way back home. Even as I walked through the door and exchanged pleasantries with my parents, I couldn't help thinking that Frank look awfully nice without those glasses.
  
  ***Gerard finished waving to Isabelle and ran to catch up with Frank.
  "So," he said casually,” She’s nice."
  "Hmm," was Frank's reply as he kept walking.
  "And cute."
  "Hmm."
  "I like her," Gerard announced,” Don’t you?"
  "I guess."
  "Do you think she's cute?" pressed Gerard.
  "Didn't really notice." said Frank monotonously.
  "Liar. You know you dig the whole 'innocent school girl' thing she has going on."
  "She's not really my type."
  "Psh. Frank, you don't have a type. You have girls that you hook up with at parties to get out your sexual frustration. Now admit it, she's adorable."
  "Fine, she cute," Frank finally relented, retreating inside the house.
  "Hey guys!" called Gerard. A chorus of 'hey's were returned.
  "Who'd you end up getting a ride from?" asked Ray.
  "My math tutor," quipped Gerard "...and Frank's study buddy."
  "You have a math tutor?" asked Ray.
  "You have a study buddy?" asked Mikey.
  "Frank thinks she cute," said Gerard evilly. Frank's guitar pick bounced off his head.
  
  Title: High School Will Never Hurt You (Frank Iero) Part 3...Q and A with Mr. Way
  
  I overslept the next morning because I realized that I had never plugged my alarm clock back in after throwing at my wall on Monday. So I was forced to go flying through my house, still buttoning my shirt as I ran out the door, my bag half open, my blazer over one arm, holding a the bagel I didn't have time to eat in my mouth.
  "Hi, hun-" was all my dad got out as I raced to George. I drove the speed limit to school, eating bites of my bagel at red lights and muttering a constant mantra of "fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck" when my mouth wasn't full.
  I found spot in the very back of the parking lot and ran through the doors just as the first bell was ringing. I didn't have time to stop at my locker, so I just ran to my first period Religion class with my bag and took notes in my French notebook, which was the only one I had on me.
  My concentration was shot for my next two classes, but I had basically gotten myself organized and under control by third period English.
  "Isabelle, what is Macbeth's tragic flaw?"
  "Huh?! Uh, 1616." Well, almost under control.
  After fourth period (Math), I stumbled to my locker, finally got all my books and notebooks in their proper place, grabbed my lunch and headed outside to find Alex and Mari.
  Alex was sitting against the tree re-lacing his lacrosse stick. His spiky blue hair made him look like some sort of demonic elf stuck in Catholic school. I collapsed next to him, my legs splayed out in front of me.
  "God, this has not been my morning," I moaned, running my fingers through my hair, which I hadn't had time to even comb. "I overslept, I practically choked on my bagel in the car, I must've hit every red light between here and my house, my English teacher thinks I mentally unhinged, and to top it all off, I look like crap."
  "Aw, that's not true," said a voice from behind me, "You look cute as always, just in a bedraggled sort of way." Gerard was grinning as he came to a stop in front of me.
  "Alex, this is Gerard," I said, gesturing to him, "My soon-to-be math pupil. Gerard, Alex. Alex, Gerard."
  "Pleasure," said Gerard breezily, ignoring the fact that Alex was sizing him up coldly. "Well Alex, if you'll excuse me, I have to steal Izzy for a while." he said, reaching down towards me.
  "What for?" asked Alex rather harshly, "And since when are you two on a nickname basis?"
  "Izzy and I are going to be see a lot of each other starting tomorrow, so we have to get to know each other. Mrs. Schneider said so." said Gerard with wide-eyed innocence. "And since she gave me and Frank a ride yesterday. Rock 'n' Roll just bonds people."
  "Izzy, what's he -"
  "Bye, Alex!" called Gerard as he suddenly grabbed my hand and hauled me to my feet, completely ignoring the fact that I was wearing a skirt, causing me to briefly flash Alex.
  "Ah! My eyes!" he yelled, clapping his hands over his face. "Nice underwear, by the way, leopard print, very classy." I managed to flick him off as Gerard pulled me at a run to wherever we were going. Girls usually wear some kind of shorts under their skirt to avoid this exact situation, but I had completely forgotten in the morning's chaos.
  Gerard continued to drag me to the very back of the courtyard and around a clump of bushes and trees. There was an old table there, and sitting on or around it were three boys I recognized. One I knew, one I didn't, and one, well, I didn't know what I think about him.
  "Everyone," Gerard announced, "This is my new math tutor," He gestured to me like I was on display on 'The Price Is Right'. "And Frank's study buddy." he added.
  "Hey Mikey," I said with a smile.
  "Oh, hey Isabelle," he smiled, sounding pleasantly surprised.
  "You two know each other?" asked Gerard, sounding a little put out that get to properly introduce me.
  "Yeah, we always get put in the same art classes for some reason," said Mikey, adjusting his glasses, "We've got Photography together now."
  "I see," Gerard huffed, "Well, you've seen Ray, apparently, but I don't think you've ever met." he said, gesturing to the kid with the afro. "Ray, Isabelle Monahan. Izzy, Raymond Toro," he said primly. Apparently if he could only show me off to one person, he was gonna do it right.
  "Hi," said Ray, grinning, "So you're Gerard's math tutor?"
  I nodded. "Yep." All of a sudden, a look of realization came across his face.
  "So you're the one Frank - uh, and Gerard got a, uh, ride from yesterday." He exchanged glances with Mikey, who also got that look of having just remembered something. Then they both looked at Gerard and then at the final person there.
  Frank was leaning against a tree, with his sunglasses back in place and a cigarette that he had just brought to his lips. He was looking very 'rebel without a cause', except for the fact that he was smoking his cigarette so furiously it was quickly turning to ash.
  "Say 'hi', Frank," said Gerard, sitting down and gesturing for me to do the same.
  "Hey." Frank said before taking a long drag from his cigarette and slowly blowing it out, the smoke rising in gray caricatures above his head.
  "Don't mind him, he's just grouchy 'cause he hasn't had his caffeine fix yet," said Gerard, "But not to worry, that can soon be remedied." He took out a can of Mountain Dew and slid it across the table towards Frank, who leaned forward and picked it up, opened it, but didn't start drinking.
  "So, Izzy," said Gerard, folding his all business-like, "You may be wondering why I brought you here to our den of iniquity. I think we should learn some basic facts about each ourselves before we begin our highly anticipated tutoring slash study sessions tomorrow. So, I have here a list of pre-prepared questions for you to answer." He produced a backpack seemingly out of nowhere and rummaged around in it until he pulled out a few sheets of paper. He tapped them on the table sternly.
  Mikey had his chin propped up on his hands, and he and Ray were looking on in amusement.
  "Ahem," Gerard began, clearing his throat, "First off, please state your full name."
  "Isabelle Jane Monahan," I replied, trying to contain my smile at his antics.
  "Jane?" he said, sounding incredulous, " 'Isabelle Monahan' is so impressive sounding and your middle name is 'Jane? What, was Jane a relative or something?"
  "Nope. My mom couldn't think of a middle name, so she just picked the quintessential girl name," I said, smirking.
  "Hmph," he said, scribbling on one of the papers. "Place of birth?"
  "Newark, New Jersey."
  "Same! Current residence? Bellville, I'm assuming?" I nodded and he wrote down my answers.
  "Soft drink of choice?"
  "7 Up."
  "Hm, interesting. Not Sprite? Not Sierre Mist?" he pressed.
  "No. 7 Up."
  "A lady of substance. Favorite ice cream flavor?"
  "Chocolate chip."
  "Any pets?"
  "A cat."
  "Its name?" he asked, not looking up from his writing.
  "Rasputin." He looked up at me and quirked an eyebrow before writing down my answer, mouthing 'Ras-pu-tin' as he went.
  "Parents?"
  "Happily married."
  "To each other?" he queried.
  "Yes, to each other," I said with a smile.
  "Favorite holiday?"
  "Halloween."
  "Oh, she's a keeper!" Ray said, laughing.
  Gerard grinned.” As if there was ever any doubt. Halloween is Frank's birthday you know. Grade Point Average?"
  "4.1" They stared at me in silence. So I'm a overachiever, so what?
  Gerard stared at me. "You need a social life. Favorite Beatle?"
  "George Harrison."
  "Secret fears slash phobias?"
  "Sharks. Movies in which dolls come alive."
  "Mikey, you've got a kindred spirit!" said Gerard, "He's afraid of my mom's doll collection," he whispered to me.
  "They're creepy!" Mikey protested.
  "Agreed. But moving on, any past tutorial experience?" he asked, looking down his nose at me like an unity old woman at a job interview.
  "No, I hate kids."
  "Good, they're scary. Any traffic citations?"
  One, for driving its a busted tail light. Which wasn't my fault, some kid crashed into it with a makeshift go-cart. He broke his nose."
  "Serves him right. Cute feet?"
  "Huh?"
  "Do you have cute feet?" he clarified.
  "Uh, I'll let you be the judge of that." he glanced down at my sneakers.
  "Another time, perhaps. Any siblings?"
  "No, I'm an only chi - oh, shit! I have to go!" I had happened to glance down at my watch and see the time. "I'm sorry, I godda go talk to Miss Williams about my history paper. I'll see you tomorrow!" I called as I ran towards the school. I couldn't help smiling as I ran, though. I was getting to like these boys.
  
  
  ***
  "Well, she's something' else," said ray brightly, "I like her. And you're right Frank, she is cute."
  "Very cute," Mikey agreed. Frank snorted.
  "And I have it on google authority that she's wearing leopard print underwear," Gerard added. they all cocked their heads to the side as they watched her run to the building. Gerard looked at Frank, who was pretending to be disinterested. He grinned. He had seen Frank choke on his Mountain Dew when he mentioned Izzy's undergarments. He smiled evilly. He had big plans for his new friend. Oh, did he ever.
  
  When I got home that afternoon, I realized that I hadn't told my parents about my tutoring gig. They would probably be wondering why I would be coming home an hour later than usual every other day from now till God-know-when. And even if they didn't mind (or notice), I still wanted to tell them. We're close like that.
  "Hey, sweetie, how was school?" my mom called from the kitchen when she heard me come in.
  "It was ...good. Interesting. Listen, I forgot to tell you in all the rush lately, but I'm going to be tutoring some guys after school for a while."
  "You are? Honey, that's great, it's good that you're getting involved." I snorted. "I know, I know, you hate 'getting involved'," she said laughing. "Lord, I've raised such an anti-social," she sighed in mock sorrow.
  "What kind of tutoring will you be doing?" asked my dad from his seat at the kitchen counter, where he was reading the paper.
  "Math. Well, one needs math help. The other I'm just keeping on task when he's doing his homework."
  "Oh, like a study buddy?" asked Mom.
  "Why does everybody insist on calling it that?" I cringed.
  "Who are these boys you're going to be tutoring and, study budering?" asked my dad.
  "Just some guys from school. Frank and Gerard."
  "Hmm." He went back to his paper.
  I rolled my eyes at my mother, who just smiled and shrugged. My dad is convinced that every boy I meet is going to try to seduce/rape/imprison/impregnate me, Alex is the only guy he trusts me with. Which is convenient since Alex is generally the only boy around.
  Like I said, I'm not big on dating.
  "When does it start?" asked Mom.
  "Tomorrow," I replied.
  "So what time do you think you'll be home, then?"
  "Oh, I don't know. Maybe an hour, hour-and-a-half later than usual."
  "Okay, well go set the table, dinner's almost ready." My mom insists on cooking for my dad and I whenever she can, which is nice, because she's a good cook. But since she's so busy, Dad and I are on our own a lot when it comes to food. We have a shared love of take-out, as well as sad European films, so most nights consist of us eating Chinese straight out of the carton and watching movies with subtitles. My mom and I have a shared love of mystery novels, so that's how we bond.
  As I was setting out the forks I found myself smiling, remembering Gerard's questionnaire this morning. I wondered what his and Frank's answers were for the same questions. Especially Frank. He talked so little, at least to me, and I just wanted to know more because of it. Well, I figured, I could start finding out tomorrow. I caught myself smiling again. This tutoring thing was looking substantially better than it had this time yesterday.
  
  Title: High School Will Never Hurt You (Frank Iero) Part 4...After-School Special
  
  The next day at school, I suddenly began noticing Gerard and his friends all over school. It was like I had suddenly developed radar for them. Aside from sixth period Photography with Mikey, I didn't have any classes with them, but I kept seeing them in the hallways, moving through doors, walking across the courtyard or playing field. I would see one of them and it was like they were illuminated for a moment, then they faded back into the background. They were like cheaply made cartoons, the object that was supposed to move was painted a slightly different color, telling the painter, but also the viewer what was about to happen next.
  I had only had this newfound radar capability a few hours, but I could already pick them out by their sounds and movements. Ray's afro could be seen from miles away (probably from outer space), and his odd, raspy voice was easy to pick out.
  Gerard's devil-may-care swagger was easy to identify and his slightly high-pitched voice carried down the hallways.
  Mikey's lanky frame and hunched, almost girlish stance stood out and his voice had a low, rounded tone that I enjoyed listening to.
  But I never saw Frank. He was either immune to the radar, using stealth technology, or using secret underground tunnels to get to all his classes. They seemed equally likely to me.
  
  At lunch I sat with Alex and Mari under our tree and Gerard didn't come to get me. Secretly, I was a little disappointed. I liked the ragtag group of Lost Boys and theirs questions.
  But I was glad to be with Alex and Mari, I hadn't seen them too much lately. Alex had his sports and Mari's sister was getting married, and since she was Indian, this required multiple parties with the entire extended family present and oodles of food. Alex and I were coming to the wedding, but it wasn't for a while.
  "Als, who are you looking for? You look like that creepy guy from 'The Lord of the Rings', guarding 'his precious'," said Mari exasperatedly. It was true. Alex had an arm around my shoulder and was glaring at anybody who came within a ten-foot radius.
  "No one," he said self-consciously and took his arm off of my shoulder. I knew he was looking for Gerard. Alex is sweet, but slightly overly protective. We're like his sisters. Well, no, it's not that. We’re his best friends. And that's that.
  "Uh huh," said Mari suspiciously, "Izzy, what's he all paranoid about? And Alex, sit up, you look like a vulture." He did, all hunched over, craning out to scowl at innocent passers-by.
  "He's afraid my math student is going to kidnap me again," I said, lightly ruffling his hair.
  "Am not!" he said, straightening indignantly. Mari and I raised our eyebrows first at each other, then at him. "Fine, so what if I am. He had no right to steal our Izzy away like that. What if I needed to talk to you about something important? Huh? HUH?!"
  "Did you?" I asked.
  "No. But I could have." I laughed at him, rolling my eyes, and talked with Mari about girly things like shoes and eyeliner until we had to go back.
  Just as we had started walking, my Lost Boy Radar kicked in and I saw all four of them coming towards us. I realized they must have just come from their concealed table. It made me oddly pleased to know where they spent their time. Some of it anyway.
  "Hi Izzy!" shouted Gerard, waving wildly, "See you after school!"
  "See you then," I called back, smiling. I saw Frank for a second, he had been standing behind Ray, who was a good deal taller than he was and - Mother of God! Did he EVER takes those sunglasses off?!
  
  I saw Mikey in Photography, my second-to-last class of the day. The teacher, Mrs. Owens, occasionally gave us projects to do, but mostly let us run free during class, developing negatives and making prints of our own stuff.
  Mikey and I were developing film together, chatting idly while watching the clock to know when to shake and flip our negatives in their chemical-filled containers.
  "So," said Mikey, swirling his container, "What exactly will tutoring Gerard entail?"
  "Well," I began, "Basically, I think he'll just show me his homework, show me what he doesn't get, I'll explain it to him, have him do it, then check his answers," I finished, flipping my container.
  "Sounds simple enough," said Mikey, eyes on the second hand of the clock, "But I should warn you - with Gerard, simple things tend to get complicated - fast," he said with a wry smile.
  I grinned. "Well, I've got no plans after that, so I've got as long as it takes."
  "I suspect you're going to need it," he said. I swirled and flipped my container.
  "What about Frank?" he asked.
  "Huh?" I said, momentarily confused.
  "What are you doing with Frank?" he said, smiling.
  "Well, I guess just have him sit by Gerard and me and say 'Do your homework.' I mean, how am I supposed to make him?"
  "Oh, I'm sure he could think of a few reasons to listen to you," he said vaguely.
  "What do you -"
  "Done!" he shouted and scampered off to wash off his film.
  I frowned slightly and gave my film its last flip before going to join him.
  
  When the last bell of the day finally rang, I was filled with a nervous excitement. I really didn't know what to expect, but I was looking forward to seeing Frank and Gerard again. I had an undeniable curiosity about them and their lifestyles. I wondered what it was like to be in a band, to fail a math test, to get drunk, smoke a cigarette, do all the things that I knew I would never do, wasn't physically capable of doing. I knew that they were bad things to be fascinated by, but they were the preverbal flame to my moth.
  When I got my locker, I realized that we hadn't said where we were going to meet for this tutoring lesson. I had just finished putting my books away and was considering wandering the halls until I found one of them, when my locker was pushed shut.
  "Hey, doll face," purred Gerard.
  "GAH!!" I jumped about a foot in the air, and put my hand to my frantically beating heart. "Jesus, Gerard, you scared the crap out of me! Don't sneak up on me like that!" I scolded.
  "Aw, I'm sorry Izzy," he apologized with big, pathetic eyes, "Can you find it in your warm and generous heart to forgive me?"
  Ah, damn puppy eyes. How do guys do that?!
  "Hm, just this once. Well, we should get started, where's FraAAAAHHH!!!" I turned around to find Frank's face roughly three inches away from mine. "JesesfuckingChrist! Are you two conspiring to get out of tutoring by giving me a HEART ATTACK?!" I shouted, leaning back against my locker, trying to breathe deep.
  Frank just smirked. Gerard patted my shoulder.
  "Oh hun, if we wanted to scare you to death you'd already be cold. Now let's go outside. It's all pretty out and ready for some learning'." And with that he grabbed my arm and dragged me down the hallway and out the door, Frank trailing along behind us.
  We stepped out into the courtyard and Gerard pulled me to one of the now abandoned lunch tables. He flopped down onto the bench and motioned for me to do the same. I did, but with a little more grace, since I was still in my uniform skirt. Frank came and sat down across from us.
  I looked across the table and noticed for the first time that he wasn't wearing his sunglasses. I quickly tried to memorize his face; I didn't know the next time I would see it unadorned.
  "So, um," Were his eyes brown or green? I couldn't quite tell. Brown I think. "I guess Gerard and I'll get started, and you, um, just do your homework, I guess. Probably better to start with the harder stuff first, so you won't have a lot to do if you don't finish here." I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from rambling further. I think Frank was smirking at me again. I couldn't tell because I was currently looking anywhere but at him.
  "So, Gerard," I said, turning to him, "Why don't you get out your math homework and we'll see what you're having trouble on."
  I waited while Gerard rummaged in his backpack, looking for his math binder. Frank was lazily writing in a notebook, I couldn't see what it was because it would require leaning towards him and drawing attention to myself, something I wanted to avoid at all costs.
  "Found it!" cried Gerard triumphantly, holding up his math worksheets.
  "Okay," I said, relieved to have something to do, "Let's see." I looked it over to see what they were studying. "Alright, what don't you get?"
  "Everything."
  "Could you be a little more specific?"
  "No. Everything." I sighed. This was going to be harder than I thought.
  
  'Alright, well let's start with number one. Now, you're finding the surface area of a cylinder. It's the just like finding the area of a prism, but you need to find the area of the circles, instead of rectangles."
  "How do you find the area of a prism? Or a circle? What's a prism?"
  I sat there looking at him for a moment.
  "I think we need to start a few steps back."
  
  An hour later, Gerard had four pages worth of notes that I had given him and a basic understanding of circles. And we were no closer to finishing his worksheet. Well, it was time to get inventive.
  "Okay, since we're obviously not getting this done today, just hang onto it for later. Gerard, do you still have your worksheets from a couple lessons ago?" I asked.
  "Uh, yeah. Lemme check." He dug through his binder until he pulled out a stack of papers. I sifted through them until I found one I wanted.
  "Alright, this is the worksheet on circles. I want you to work on this tonight, instead of the one on cylinders. I'll talk to your teacher tomorrow about how we're getting you caught up."
  "Okay," he said amiably.
  "And then I wanted you to do... this one," I said, pulling out another one on circles, "tomorrow. I'll check over them on Friday and then we'll move on to prisms. Hopefully."
  "Sounds good," he said, "Well, as good as math homework ever sounds." I smiled and turned to Frank.
  "Well, let's see how you di- THIS IS NOT HOMEWORK!" I shouted, grabbing his notebook and looking at the random dashes, letters and numbers he had scrawled and crossed out under the head 'The Great Depression.' "This is not homework, this is - this is - uh -"
  "Guitar tabs," supplied Gerard helpfully.
  "GUITAR TABS!" I shouted, "And what do guitar tabs have to do with the Great Depression?!" before he could even open his mouth to answer, I kept going, "That's right! Not a damn thing! So on Friday -"
  "Friday is play auditions," Frank said, the obnoxious smirk creeping back in his eyes.
  "Fine! On Saturday - yes, Saturday - we're getting together and we're not leaving until he understands cylinders and you do your damn homework. Got it?!"
  "Got it," he was almost smiling now. I wanted to smack him.
  "We can meet at my house!" said Gerard happily, as if this was going to be a play date, not the geometry boot camp I had planned.
  "Sounds great. So I'll see you on Friday for auditions and Saturday to study. We'll meet at Gerard's house at - when's good for you? Eleven?"
  "Early," he whined.
  "Eleven it is. See you there." I grabbed my bag and started to my car.
  "Hey Izzy!" I turned around to face Gerard. "Can we have a ride?" I closed my eyes. How had I gotten suckered into this job? "Fine." I said through gritted teeth.
  "Thank you, come on Frankie," he sang and pranced along to my car. I wonder about that boy sometimes.
  High School Will Never Hurt You (Frank Iero) Part 5...Dog Day Afternoon
  
  When we got to the car, I unlocked the door and Gerard climbed into the front seat and immediately started playing with the radio while Frank got into the back more slowly. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I was struck by how routine this all seemed, like we had done it dozens of times instead of just once. Gerard gave me directions in his usual manner, so there was a lot of stopping and starting and last-minute turns, but other than that it was a nice drive. Gerard talked a lot, not letting Frank or I get a word in edgewise, but I at least didn't have anything really to say. I think he just liked the sound of his own voice, or maybe it was a precautionary measure against awkward silences. Either way, I didn't mind. I liked to listen to him talk.
  "That's my house," said Gerard, pointing to a white one with brown trim on the right side of the street. I pulled up in front of it and parked while Gerard and Frank got out.
  "Alright, see you tomorrow Izzy," said Gerard, smiling brightly at me from the curb.
  "Don't forget to do those worksheets," I reminded him.
  "Don't worry babe, they'll be done by Saturday," he assured me. I had my doubts about that.
  I was about to pull out when the door opened and Frank got in the front seat.
  "Down this street and to the left," he said, looking at me calmly. It took me a moment to realize that he was giving me directions to his house. I had assumed that he would end up wherever Gerard did, as usual, but apparently I was going to drive him to his house instead.
  "Right," I murmured and started off down the street.
  
  The ride was unbearably quiet without Gerard's constant chatter to fill up the space. Finally I bust turned on the radio in one quick, violent motion. Something about Frank made me afraid to move, like I was going to break anything I touched and embarrass myself horribly.
  I sighed silently in relief as the music flowed through the car. It was easier after that. Frank would occasionally tell me which street to turn down, with plenty of warning unlike certain scraggly-haired math flunkies I knew. The ride seemed oddly familiar to me, and I couldn't figure out why. I caught myself mouthing the words to a song and stopped myself. I couldn't tell if Frank had I noticed. I was again refusing to look at him.
  "Hey, I live near here!" I exclaimed suddenly, "My house is on the other side of the park."
  
  High School Will Never Hurt You (Frank Iero) Part 6...Impure Thoughts
  
  
  The next day at school, it seemed like I had developed ADD overnight. I just couldn't concentrate on anything. My attention kept flicking from whatever we were studying to a million other places on the globe, before settling on Frank. Sometimes Gerard, but mostly Frank.
  I had no idea why I was no preoccupied with him, nothing had happened between the two of us. I went inside his house for roughly twenty minutes. He told me a little about his family, showed me his room, his dog...All perfectly innocent, socially acceptable things to do with a new friend. Except we weren't friends, not really. I didn't know what we were. We weren't enemies, but definitely not friends.
  Ah! Pull yourself together, girl! Nothing happened and nothing will happen. Ever! I tapped my pen against my desk restlessly. He's not even that cute. My foot was bouncing up and down under my desk. Liar.
  
  When I stopped at my locker before lunch, I found something taped to the inside. I carefully took it off and saw that it was a drawing. My face broke into a grin when I saw that it was a caricature of yesterday's study session.
  The cartoon me was yelling and waving her arms while holding a notebook, papers flying everywhere, shouting "GUITAR TABS?!". The cartoon Frank was looking cooly on, his feet propped up on the table. In the background, a cartoon Gerard sat with swirly eye, looking dazed while figures and formulas swirled around his head. On it was written:
  entertainment, TUTORING. See you at auditions tomorrow and at my house on Sat.
  XOXO
  G.
  P.S. Frank says hi.
  I carefully put the drawing in a binder to keep it safe, and headed out to lunch, the grin still plastered on my face.
  
  ***Frank narrowed his eyes when he opened his locker. He took down the drawing that was taped inside, recognizing it as one of Gerard's immediately. There were two images on the paper, both of Isabelle. In the first, she was blushing, looking down while she tucked her hair behind her ear, a nervous habit he (and apparently Gerard) had noticed. In the second, she was standing hipshot, eyes narrowed, hands on hips, looking like she was about to smack someone. He was getting familiar with that expression, too.
  He glanced at the note:
  
  wink, wink
  XO
  G.
  
  He rolled his yes and stuffed the drawing in his bag, before heading out to lunch.
  
  I sat cross-legged on the grass in front of our tree, holding still while Alex braided my hair. Mari was sitting across from me, finishing a math assignment.
  "What's the square root of one hundred-twenty-one?" she asked.
  "Eleven," I answered without hesitation.
  "Muchos gracias," she muttered, and hunched over her assignment.
  "So," I said casually, as Alex finished my hair, "I'll see you two at auditions tomorrow, right?"
  "Well, uh," Mari began, looking up from her homework, "You see-"
  "Great, it's at 3:00 in the theater," I said, cutting off her attempt to get out of it. I always force Alex and Mari to audition with me,, mostly for moral support, but also because it was nice to have friends in the cast, even if you ended up making friends with everyone, anyway.
  Alex muttered something from behind me.
  "What was that, Dolohov?" I barked.
  "Uh...Shakespeare is fun?" he offered nervously.
  "That he is!" I agreed, "I'm glad you're coming around to my point of view."
  "...fun if you're, like,dead," he said under his breath.
  "I heard that! I-"
  "ANYWAY," said Mari loudly, before we could start wrestling, "What are we doing this weekends? Friday's obviously busy, but what about Saturday? We can have Movie Night at my house."
  "Sounds good!" said Alex happily.
  "I can't, what about Sunday?" I said.
  "Sure, Sunday's fine," Mari assured me.
  "What are you doing on Saturday?" asked Alex suspiciously.
  "I'm meeting up with Gerard and Frank for some intensive math training. I don't know how long it'll take," I answered.
  "You've been seeing them a lot lately," he said, eyes narrowed, "Should I be concerned?"
  "Jeez, Alex, it's been less than a week! I'm gonna see them a lot because Gerard need a lot of help. There's no need for you to get your knickers in a twist."
  "My knickers are not twisted!" he replied indignantly. Mari laughed, but Alex just wouldn't let it go. "But, seriously, one girl alone with two guys with questionable reputations for hours at a time? Maybe I should just, ya know, keep you company-"
  "Alex!" I shouted, laughing, "One over-protective father figure is enough. Besides, they're nice guys, there's nothing to worry about."
  
  *** "Admit it, you want her," said Gerard, "Really, how could you not? She's all sweet and innocent, but she's got that 'spunky' thing going on, too. C'mon," he pressed.
  "I've said it before and I'll say it again: She's not my type," Frank replied, taking a drag from his cigarette.
  "And I've said it before and will say it again: You don't have a type, you have girls you wanna jump. And I know you wanna jump her. Hell, I wanna jump her."
  "Guys, would you mind terribly not objectifying my friends?" said Mikey irritably.
  "Oh, come down from your moral high horse, you'd jump her, too," Gerard shot back. Mikey didn't reply, just looked down, blushing slightly. "Aha! You see?! Mikey wants her, too, and he's much pickier than I am," said Gerard excitedly.
  "Yeah, you'd fuck anything with legs and a pulse," Mikey muttered, lighting a cigarette.
  "Oh, that is so not true!" Gerard gasped, offended, "I require a decent head of hair, too. Other than that , yeah, I'd fuck just about anything." He paused, looking thoughtful, "And she has great hair."
  "Jesus," Frank muttered, stomping out his fag, "If all you're gonna talk about is how much you wanna fuck your math tutor, I'm leaving."
  "We don't have to talk about that," Gerard called after him, "We can talk about how much you wanna fuck my math tutor!" he quipped.
  Frank gave him the finger as he walked away.
  "Someone's sexually frustration is making him cranky," said Gerard, turning back to Ray and Mikey. "So, Ray, how much do you wanna fuck my math tutor?"
  
  I was already waiting for them when Gerard and Frank walked up to my car.
  "Need a ride?" I asked, smiling. Gerard grinned and sprinted for the front seat. His hand was on the handle when he suddenly stopped, a strange look on his face.
  "I call the backseat," he said, then jumped inside and closed the door before I could blink. I raised a eyebrow and looked at Frank, who was frowning at Gerard, who just smiled back innocently from the backseat. I decided not to ask, and got in.
  "So, where to?" I asked as I started the engine.
  "Frank's house," Gerard answered and I started down the road, for once not needing Gerard's directions, and thus saving myself some neck pain.
  When I pulled up in front of his house, I suddenly remembered something. "Oh, Frank!" I said, quickly digging through my bag until I pulled out the book he had lent me. "Here, I finished it. It was really good." I held it out to him, and he just looked at me from the passenger seat.
  "You finished it in one night?" he asked, the right corner of his mouth curving up.
  "Well, yeah," I said, slightly embarrassed, "I couldn't sleep last night, so..." I trailed off, tucking my hair behind my ears.
  He sat there giving me that strange half-smile a moment longer before saying "If you liked it, I have another by that author. You can come in and I'll get it for you if you want."
  "She can?" Gerard, who had been raptly watching our conversation like a tennis match, asked wonderingly from the backseat.
  "She can," Frank stated, and got out of the car.
  "Huh," said Gerard, before following him.
  You have that feeling like you missed out on part of a conversation that involved you? Yeah, that's what I felt like. I turned off the ignition before following them into Frank's house.
  
  The place looked the same as it did yesterday, the messy, homey feeling was welcoming. A smaller dog that looked like some kind of Corgi mutt came up to us. He greeted Frank happily, before running up to Gerard and rubbing against his legs. Then he saw me and immediately began sniffy my shoes. I held still and waited for him to complete his examination.
  Apparently I passed inspection, because he suddenly gave me a big doggy smile and twined himself around my feet. I sank down and scratched his ears and back a little while, before standing up and walking into the kitchen where Gerard and Frank were talking.
  "I see you've met Tucker," said Gerard, a Diet Coke in one hand.
  "He's adorable," I said, smiling.
  "Hey Frank, where's your mom?" asked Gerard, "she usually doesn't leave for a few more hours."
  "She's covering her friend's shift for a couple hours," Frank replied, taking a sip from his own Diet Coke.
  "What does your mom do?" I asked, curious.
  "She's a nurse in the ER," he replied, "She works night shift." I nodded.
  "What about your dad?" I asked, looking at the pictures on the fridge.
  "He's in music production."
  "Cool," I said, meaning it. That would explain Frank's obvious musical interest. Suddenly, we heard barking and scratching coming from the back of the house.
  "I should let them in. If you wanna get the book from my room, it's on the chair." I nodded and walked to his room, grateful to have a few minutes out of his line of vision.
  
  ***Gerard watched Isabelle walk down the hallway to Frank's room, trying to figure out what seemed off about the picture. Suddenly a look a realization dawned across his face, which was quickly replaced by an evil grin.
  "Say Frank," he said casually, leaning against the counter, "How does Isabelle know where your room is?"
  Frank glanced at him before quickly walking to the back door. Gerard had to trot to keep up.
  "Well? If you don't tell me, I'll be forced to use my imagination, and you know how I'm prone to impure thoughts-"
  "I showed her around yesterday after she gave me a ride," he said, unlocking the door.
  "And your room just happened to be on the itinerary?" Gerard drawled.
  "We talked, I showed her my room, I gave her a book, she was nearly suffocated by my dog. End of story." The same dog came racing through the door, disappearing into the house and was followed by a much slower golden retriever with a gray muzzle. "C'mon Rex," said Frank, gently pulling on his collar to steer him out of the way before closing the door.
  "So you're telling me," said Gerard slowly, "That you had her alone. In your house. your bedroom, and you didn't get so much as a peck on the cheek?! Not a lust-filled smile, a dirty thought, anything?!" He hissed in disgust, "You're losing' your touch, man."
  Frank decided it was best not to mention that Isabelle had actually been on his bed, and he at least had several dirty thoughts. He was about to answer Gerard when they heard a dog barking, followed by a light, feminine *oof!*, and a loud *THUD*.
  "Fuck it, not again," Frank muttered, and hurried to his room, Gerard right behind him.
  
  I had just picked the book off of Frank's chair, when I heard a familiar thundering of paws. Sure enough, Valentine came skidding into the room, barking like crazy. As he sailed through the air towards me, I closed my eyes in dread. I wasn't going to land on Frank's soft-but-supportive bed, I was going to hit the floor. The carpeted floor, but the floor all the same.
  The dog hit me like a ton of bricks and suddenly I was on the ground. Yep, that hurt about as much as I'd anticipated. Valentine had his paws on my shoulders and was licking my face like I was an old friend he hadn't seen in years. I didn't even have the strength to push him off me; the fall hand knocked all the breath out of me.
  Then I heard a familiar cackle, proceed by a cry of "What the hell is wrong with you Val?!", and then Frank was hauling the dog off of me. "Are you okay?" he asked, for once sounding genuinely concerned. I was still having breathing issues, so I just lay there staring up at his face. He was certainly an attractive boy...I stared at his lips, did getting that lip ring hurt? Which hurt more, the lip or the nose? Was his mom okay with him getting them, or did she-
  "Hey, Isabelle, are you alright?" I asked again.
  "Uh, yeah," I wheezed, sitting up, "Just a little winded." Gerard was still laughing in the doorway, leaning against the frame for support. Frank and I both glared at him. I looked own at my skirt and quickly tugged it down from where my fall had shoved it up to. I was hoping Gerard and Frank had been to distracted to notice that I had briefly flashed them. Stupid fucking uniform skirts, you see the trouble they get you into?
  I stood up slowly and dusted myself off. "Well, not that this hasn't been fun , but I should probably get going." I sincerely hoped I wasn't blushing as much as it felt like I was.
  Frank's lip twitched. "Yeah, I suppose you have homework...'n' stuff." I looked at him from behind my hair, smiling shyly. I tucked my hair behind my ears and quickly ducked out of the room, book grasped tightly in my hand. I was almost a little disappointed that I had remembered it, if I'd forgotten it, he could have returned it to me and there was a fifty percent chance our hands might brush each other, and any excuse for him to touch me - No! I am not thinking this! I am going to my car and I am going home, where I will hide in my room and avoid all thought of him. I can read my new book - that I got from him and probably still smells like him and - Gah! Stop it!
  
  ***Gerard's laughter had finally died down as Isabelle bolted for the door.
  "Aw, man," he said, still out of breath, "That was the most hilarious thing I have seen
• Friesian : HI! on August 12

  I LOVE "Kill All Your Friends" by MCR! They're one of my most favorite bands ever!