A/N: Happy New Year everyone! I've been taking forever to update. Originally, I would have updated before 2018 but then there was a huge commotion on my street and I was interrupted due to the chaos outside. But the good news is, I've finished an update today. My new year's resolution is to be committed to my projects, finishing what I start and not leaving anything open. So basically, I'm going to be (hopefully) dedicated to working on this story, the Frerard One-Shots I have, and working on my original. I want to be a published novelist in a few years, that would be my life goal, and I perceive fanfics as my "practice". There is a possibility of me starting another story similar to this (character wise but different setting) however, I am invested here and I don't want to have too many projects open. Anyways, I hope this year will be a good one and may we achieve our goals. Love you all.

~FireNinjaDagger

"Why isn't she getting expelled?" Gerard asks, turning around. "That makes no sense, Audrey started it."

"I don't know, that's just what Brendon told me in study hall," I explain. "Something about her parents getting involved."

"Makes sense, they're lawyers," Lynn says. "I need more paint."

Jenna slides her a bottle and sighs. "I actually hate Audrey, she sprained Hayley's wrist."

"Yeah, but Hayley did break her nose and she has to wear that stupid thing on her face," Cody chuckles.

I glance at Gerard. He's gritting his teeth while mixing his paintbrush in the water. "Gee?" He looks up at me with hooded eyes. "You good?"

"No," he scoffs. "She should have gotten expelled. And also, Brendon not breaking up with her is pissing me off too."

"Yeah," Lynn says. "That's really cold of him. Hayley is like his best friend."

"Was," he corrects. "That girl doesn't take bullshit from others. He'll be lucky if Hayley still talks to him when she gets back." He stops suddenly and drops his paintbrush. "Oh, for the love of god..." He stands up and storms off to the back of the room.

"Gerard?" I call out.

He marches back over with paper towels and starts patting the painting. He stands behind his stool, leaning against the table, his hair hanging in front of his face. "Can someone clean the water, it's too dirty to use," he sighs. "Kiwis are not supposed to be pink," he whines under his breath.

Gerard glances at Cody. "Well, sorry if I need to use red, bucko! Strawberries aren't green."

"They are before they're ripe," Gee replies.

Cody rolls his eyes. "Fine, I'll clean the water, happy?"

"Thank you," he calls out as Cody takes the water back to the sink. He lifts up the paper towel and the murky hue is gone. "I do love pain," he says.

"You love pain?" Jenna and Lynn ask at the same time, glancing at each other giggling.

Gerard looks up at him, his mouth hanging out. "Paint! I meant paint, like..."

"Great, now we have to kink shame Gee," Lynn says. Gerard slowly lowers himself into his seat, his cheeks blushing furiously. "Why you so embarrassed, Gee? I thought you'd laugh it off and play along by now."

Before he even opens his mouth to respond, Jenna gasps. "Wait!" she cries out, over exaggeratedly, "what if he really does love pain, that's why he's embarrassed," she teases.

I start choking from laughing and Gerard looks at me. "I don't! You just, that came out of nowhere so I..." The three of us giggle ceaseless and he pouts in his stool. "I hate you all," he sighs.

"What'd they do this time?" Cody asks, returning to the table with a clean bowl of water.

"Nothing," Gerard mutters, covering his face with his hands.

"Gerard just admitted he loves pain," I say. Gerard peaks his eyes between his fingers and glares at me.

Cody looks at me with a frozen look on his face. "Well, I clearly came back way too soon, I'm getting more paper towels because that's a reason to walk away." Cody stands back up and leaves the table.

Jenna and Lynn lean on each other while giggling and I can't help but smile. Gerard flops his arms on the table, resting his head on top. I poke his cheek and he hisses at me like a cat. I laugh, continuing to poke my face. "I'll bite you if you keep doing that," he mutters.

"Biting now, eh?" I remark. "Doesn't just stop with pain." His eyes drain of color as he slowly turns to face me, his cheeks furiously red.

"Oh, Gerard, what will we do with you," Lynn says, nonchalantly painting on her canvas.

"I hate you all," he sighs.

"Even me?" I ask teasingly.

"Oh, especially you, Frankie, you and your stupid remarks and the pretty, little grin of yours," he says. I smile, caressing the side of his face. He closes his eyes, leaning into my hand and taking a breath. My smile melts, eyes fixated on him, neither of us moving. I look up, Lynn continues painting her pineapple while calming down from laughing. Jenna glances at me wearily, making eye contact. Her eyes switch between me and Gerard with a puzzled expression. If I were to pull away from him, it would confirm I like him, but if I play ignorant, it might be assumed that I'm in denial. I simply smile at her innocently, and then playfully shove Gerard. He shakes his head side to side, his bangs falling into its natural place.

Cody comes back over with paper towels, sitting down and looking at us all. "Well, now it's quiet."

"Would you prefer us bringing back the old topic?" Lynn asks.

"No!" Gerard and Cody say in unison. Jenna softly smiles and I smile back at her, continuing on my English homework.

In guitar class, Hayley is back, sitting next to Patrick. Brendon isn't sitting with us, closer to Taylor and Elliot on the right side of the room. "Hey," Jenna says, taking a seat next to the others, "how's everything?"

Patrick gives a shrug, looking at Hayley to answer. "I mean, nothing happened, he just didn't sit by us when he came in, he just walked over to the others. They talked for a moment before he sat down."

"Is he seriously going to forget about us like that?" Lynn sighs.

"I don't think he would," Patrick says. "Look, I've known the guy for years, not as long as Hayley but I'd say next closest. I'm not defending him because he's being a jerk right now."

"What do you think's going to happen?" I ask.

Patrick sways his head side to side. "I don't know, I think we should give him time,"

"If he even deserves it," Hayley mutters. I realize she doesn't have her guitar out. She's wearing a baggy hoodie with her hands shoved into her pockets but I notice the brace over her wrist. She can't play.

"You don't hate him, do you?" Lynn asks.

Hayley glances at her shoes, contemplating an answer. "No, I don't hate him, I just hate the choices he's making right now. He's my best friend but doesn't act like it. And it's only because of her." There's spite in her voice, not necessarily jealousy. "There's nothing we can do now though, just let him figure it out on his own if he does at all."

"Who was that girl you were telling me about?" Patrick asks. Hayley looks up at her. "You know, uh, Sam or..."

"Oh, Sarah Orzechowski?" she says. That name sounds familiar. I might know who she's talking back but I can't think of her at the moment. "I mean, I just started talking to her so I'm not sure but she may be the one."

"The one what?" Jenna asks. "Are you and Patrick still conspiring against Audrey?"

"Uh, yeah," Patrick says matter-of-factly. "Look, we all want to break them up, right? And he's proven unable to listen to reason so what better way of doing it by just replacing her?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," I say. "I mean, I get the notion Audrey isn't good for him but-"

"Are you seriously going to defend them?" Hayley asks, looking almost betrayed.

I falter, glancing at her. "No, I was going to say that if he's in a bad relationship, then it's best he ends it and takes time before he jumps into a new one. It doesn't seem healthy."

Hayley pauses. "Oh, I'm sorry, you're actually right. But the thing is we've tried doing that and it clearly hasn't proved effective." She brushes her hair out of her eyes with her cast hand. Portions of her face are supposedly bruised but I don't see any. Maybe she's wearing makeup but it doesn't look like much, maybe some black eyeliner but nothing else.

When I get to history, Gerard's sitting in his desk, doodling. "Hey," I say, walking past him.

He looks up at me and smiles. "Hey, you, what's up?"

"Nothing much, guitar was kind of awkward, Brendon wasn't sitting with us today."

"Yeah, I figured that much," Gerard sighs. "I really want to hit him upside the head, like he needs to snap out of it." I nod along, listening to him. "I know it's a manipulative relationship but I wish he would hear us out."

"I know what you mean, hey can I ask you something?"

Gerard glances up from his sketchbook. "Yeah, sure."

"Were you at Hayley's this morning?" I ask. Cody picked me up from my house this morning. Gerard and I didn't get to hang out, he said that he'll see me later in school. And Cody said that Gerard wasn't needing a ride that day.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" he asks.

"She's back today and I we didn't hang out in the morning. But she doesn't look like she's injured. I was just wondering if you had a hand in that."

He sets down his pencil and takes his phone out of his pocket. "We were texting last night and she was really upset at how swollen her face was. And she was also upset she can't play guitar. It'll be fine by next week but still. Look." He holds his phone out and I take it from his hands. She sent him a selfie, the skin around one of her eyes purple and almost yellow looking and on the same side of her face, her jaw blue and purple with scratches running down to her neck. Her lip is cut open.

"This is last night?" I ask, handing him back the phone.

"Yeah, and that was my reaction top," he says. "She was saying how she didn't want to go back to school looking like that and she doesn't really wear makeup so she didn't have anything. So I offered her to help. She didn't believe me at first but I sent her what I had."

"You did a good job, I couldn't have realized that."

Gerard nods along. "Colored concealer is a life saver," he says.

"How do you know how to do that?" I ask him, slightly suspicious.

Gerard looks at weary. "If you think I have anything I'm hiding, you don't need to worry. It's basic color theory," he says.

"What is?"

"If you need to conceal a certain tone, you use the complementary color to neutralize it. Yellow concealer for blueish purple. Green for red or pink, and lavender for yellowish brown." I guess that makes sense. I don't know what color theory is but if Gerard's saying it, it's probably what it is. "I went over to her house this morning to help her and she was really, well," he starts chuckles. "at first, she was shocked I knew how to do it. She told me she only invited me over to really hang out since she doubted my ability to help her. But then she was really thankful."

"That's nice of you," I say. He gives a shrug. "I take it you'll be going to school with her for a while?"

"I mean, I didn't think about it but probably. Just until it heals enough where she's comfortable not wearing making up anymore."

The passing period bell rings and the last of the students file into the room, shuffling toward our seats. Mr. Carlson waits until everyone is in the room before shutting the door. "Now, you all have been working very hard on your project," he says, "so I assume you are very familiar with the Antebellum Period now? I have a pop quiz for you."

"What! I thought we were going to the lab!" one kid cries out.

"We will in twelve minutes so have these finished and handed in ten minutes."

Gerard and I reach into our backpacks to take out a pencil. He makes eye contact at me and sighs. "Me too," I whisper. By the time a sheet is passed back to me, I scan over the questions and sigh. It's not at all hard.

After turning them in, we do head to the computer lab. "Hey, are you doing anything tomorrow?" Gerard asks.

"Uh, I got school," I say.

Gerard bumps his shoulder into me. "You know what I mean, silly. Are you busy after school?"

"Probably not, my parents are going out of town tomorrow. Well, my dad left today and my mom is leaving tomorrow morning."

"When would they be back?"

"I think halfway through next week? It's some business project they have with stockbrokers. I don't really remember but they left me money to feed myself, granted $500 dollars is way more than enough."

"Wow, yeah, I think you're going to be okay. Well, I was asking to see if you wanted to have the movie marathon."

"Oh, yeah, definitely," I say. Andy is holding the door to the computer lab open as we file in. Gerard and I take our seats in the usual spot against the side wall. "What time were you thinking?"

"Maybe right after? You know Cody and Jenna usually call us over on Friday evenings to hang out."

"Don't want to watch it with the others?" I tease while logging into my computer.

"We've seen it enough times together, I kind of just wanted to be with you for a little bit." I smile to myself while my computer loads. The cursor is the little, blue spinning circle of death. Eventually, my desktop appears and I open up a new document. I glance at the board as Mr. Carlson finishes writing the prompt. "What were the effects of the Industrial Revolution on the Civil War?"

Like usually, I start typing my essay, my notes from this week out next to me, and Gerard is goofing around, wheeling behind me. "How is it that you aren't failing this class?" I ask.

Gerard wheels over, spinning around. "What do you mean?"

"You never do your work," I say. "At least, not the whole period. You have a high grade than I do."

Gerard sits up, his foot catching the floor and he stops spinning around. "I'm really good at history, I learn about this stuff in my free time."

"Really, you?" He looks at me confused. "I mean, I'm not saying it's a bad thing, just that it doesn't seem like your thing."

He smiles softly, flicking my bangs out of my eyes. "There's this documentary series, it's called America: The Story of Us and it's really good, I sound like e nerd but it's the ones with the narrator has a really nice voice."

"I think I know what you're talking about," I say. "Yeah, those ones are good."

He nods along. "Yeah, well, I watch that in my free time. Well, I used to," he says, trailing off.

"You used to?" I ask. Gerard hesitates, turning to face his computer. "Gee?" I playing tap his leg with my foot. Turning back to face me, he widens his eyes. "You good?"

"Yeah."

I look at him wearily. What just happened? "Why don't you watch it anymore?"

He glances down. "We finished them all."

"We? Whose we?"

"I meant me, or I in that case." He gives his head a small shake, like trying to shake a memory from resurfacing. "But I know U.S. history with ease. You have several tabs open for research. I know it all in my head. The teacher doesn't care if we have quotes. This is honors, not AP. So I just type out what I know."

"Okay, that makes sense. Another question though," I say. He looks at me slightly worried but I smile playfully to ease him. "Why is it Mr. Carlson never reprimands you? He'll tell everyone off task to get back to work and here you are on the daily dicking around in a wheely chair."

Gerard mirrors my smile. "Why would the teacher reprimand the one student with a 106% percent in the class?"

My face drops. "How in the hell do you have 106%?" I ask.

He snickers. "Because my essays are just that good that 100% doesn't do them justice." I stare at him almost pissed but also impressed. He doesn't really do anything, he's just naturally intelligent, and here I am working hard with only a 98%. But how good of a writer do you have to be in order to get more than perfect? "Hey, you think I'm good at art? I think I'm aveage-"

"Oh, shut up. You're the best artist I know," I sigh.

Gerard puts a finger to my lips, quietly shushing me. I catch my breath, looking down at his hand then slowly back up to his eyes. "Let me finish," he says, not removing his finger. "I'm average in art compared to all the other best artists in the world. But I think I'm a much better writer. And this class if a quarter of taking notes, a quarter of taking quizzes and tests, but half writing essays. I've never gotten a question wrong before..." he freezes up then taking his hand back and quickly knocking on the wooden desk.

"Superstitious?" I tease.

He rolls his eyes at me and laughs. "Not risking it. But anyway, since it's mostly writing, I'm good."

"I aspire to be you," I say.

He flinches. "Eh, no, you really shouldn't," he says hurt.

"Oh, come on. You're really smart, incredibly talented, you're funny and-"

"Shut up," he mutters. The edge in his voice stings me, he's not joking around but he's serious. I don't care that he told me to shut up but the fact about what I was talking about.

I open my mouth to apologize but I snap at him instead. "What's bothering you?" I ask. Gerard looks at me confused. "Huh? What's going on?"

"Nothing," he says.

"So are we good enough of friends for you to tell me or do you just not trust me?"

"What? No, that's not the case at all," he says.

"So why are you refraining from telling me whatever is eating you up?" His eyes grow dark but I don't care. I just want him to let me know so I could help him or be there for him. At least to know if I'm going to cross a line. I don't know if I'm triggering something from him or not since he won't tell me. "Gerard?" I shake his arm but he doesn't push me away. "What?"

"It doesn't matter," he mumbles.

"Stop, yes, it does. You do this thing where you just, I don't know, it's like something comes into your hear, like a memory and you just shut down. What's going on? I want to be able to help."

"You can't help me, Frank," he says. I stop. His voice is very empty. "It doesn't matter how close you are to me because not even Cody knows everything. And I don't want to talk about it because I want to believe in something that may not ever happen." He puts on a smile for my sake. "But I'm the one who's okay, so you don't need to worry too much about me."