If You Can Make It Through This (part 2/2)
part 1
The next week, Gerard was in the middle of drawing a really grotesque zombie about to take a bite out of someone's nose when Mrs. Verona made an announcement.
"We're going partner up for this project, and it'll be due October 24th, which is this Friday. You can work with the person sitting next to you, and the four people without anyone next to them can pair up. Got it? Okay, let me pass out the assignment and rubric."
With a sense of dread, Gerard turned to see Brian already watching him. "Hi, partner."
Oh god. They would have to meet outside of class for this. Gerard hated his life. "Seriously, why couldn't you sit by them?" he asked desperately, with a jerk of his head behind him. Anyone else in the class would have been preferably than having to deal with Brian alone. He would rather be partners with Christian and do the whole project naked than deal with Brian alone.
Brian's smile dimmed somewhat and he looked back there. "I don't like them."
"I thought you were waiting to make your own judgments?" Gerard asked sarcastically, throwing Brian's words back at him.
"I did, and I decided that I don't like them," Brian answered. "Did you know that when they call you 'freak' that they really mean 'fag'?"
Gerard stared at his hands a moment and swallowed a couple of times before he could speak around his humiliation. "You didn't?" he asked finally, hoping that his voice didn't shake much. "God, where the fuck did you go to school before this?"
"They call you Way the gay."
"Clever," Gerard spit out between clenched teeth.
"So I should have listened to you," Brian concluded. "They're assholes."
Gerard should have let it go there, with Brian recognizing Gerard's wisdom, but some masochistic part of him made him keep talking. Maybe it was to shock Brian, or just rile him up, but Gerard found himself saying, "They're right though."
"Huh?" Brian said, at the same moment that Mrs. Verona slid two pieces of paper onto their table.
Gerard waited until she past them and then looked around for anyone who might overhear before whispering, heart in his throat, "About me being gay. They're right."
Brian gave his own look around the room as he leaned close. "Me too," he whispered back, just as quiet.
Gerard's hand clenched around his pen so hard that he thought it would crack and get ink everywhere. "Oh," he responded faintly.
"Yeah, oh," Brian said, sitting back in his chair.
It wasn't like Brian was the first other gay person Gerard had met - obviously not, he lived in Jersey not Nantucket - but he was the first one at school, and the first one that Gerard - that he -
Holy shit. Gerard thought that maybe - but apparently there was a huge difference between thinking and knowing. He felt warm all over, and the pen in his fist was getting slippery in his clammy grasp. He dropped it on the table and wiped both sweaty palms on his thighs.
"So since I have a car, why don't I drive you and Mikey home one day this week and we can work on this there?" Brian asked.
"Okay," Gerard said, because he would have agreed to anything at that moment.
"You practice at Frank's on Wednesday and Thursday and it's due on Friday, so how about tomorrow?"
"Fine," Gerard croaked, wetting his dry lips. Thank god he wasn't Mikeyway, or he'd be having a full-on asthma attack right then. As it was, Gerard had to concentrate on regulating his breathing and stopping his hands from shaking.
"Cool," Brian said.
*
In the car on the way home from school the next day, Gerard sat in the backseat and was uncharacteristically quiet while Brian and Mikey talked music. The ride was only about fifteen minutes long without all of the stops the bus made, so they got to the house quickly.
Gerard set them up at the kitchen table. Mikey puttered around, getting them all Cokes before wandering into the living room. A few minutes later, the opening strains of 'Space Oddity' came filtering in. Gerard grabbed an ashtray off the counter and brought it to the table. Taking out his pack, he lit one and took a long drag.
"Your parents let you smoke in the house?" Brian asked, sounding surprised.
"They wouldn't have a fucking leg to stand on if they tried to stop me," Gerard said.
"Can I?" Brian asked, pulling out his own cigarettes.
"Go for it," Gerard said.
Brian lit his own and settled it in the ashtray next to Gerard's. "Okay, so I took some notes about Henry VIII that will help us." He pulled out a rubberbanded stack of notecards from inside a folder. "These first ten are stuff about his life, and then these are about the religious stuff that went on, with the Protestant Reformation and all that shit, then these are about his wives."
Gerard stared down at the notecards - they were color-coded, Brian had color-coded them by topic, Gerard tried and failed not to find that endearing. "Wow, um. I have my book?"
"Yeah," Brian said. He ducked his head and palmed the back of his neck as his tongue peaked out to trace his lip ring. "I'm organized when it comes to school and stuff."
The front door busted open then - which was good because Gerard's brain hadn't moved past staring at Brian's shiny bottom lip to put together a response - and his mother's white blonde hair was barely evident over the three paper bags full of groceries she was holding.
"Would one of you two come help me please?" she asked.
Before Gerard could react, Brian jumped up, took the bags from his mother and placed them on the counter.
"Thank you," she said once she's gotten rid of her purse and coat. "Well, you're a new face."
"I'm Brian. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Way," he said, sticking his hand out for Gerard's mom to shake.
His mom looked Brian over and then turned to Gerard with both dark eyebrows raised. "So this is Brian," she said in a way that made it totally obvious that they'd been talking about him. Gerard wanted to melt into the floor.
"He's Mikey's friend," Gerard emphasized. "We're doing a history project together."
"Nice to meet you, Brian," she said. Then to Gerard she declared, "I like him." She walked over to the table and took a drag from Gerard's cigarette before he could stop her, and replaced it in the ashtray. "Now I've got to run to the bathroom, but after that, you both are helping me put this stuff away. You too, Mikey!" she called into the living room.
"Fine!" Mikey yelled from where he was probably playing Warcraft on his laptop.
She walked out of the room, and Gerard heard her heeled shoes track upstairs to the bathroom.
When Gerard looked back at Brian, he was smiling. "Your mom likes me," he said.
"Yeah, well," Gerard said, feeling his cheeks warm, "my mom also collects those creepy glass dolls that she keeps in a display case in the dining room."
"Your brother likes me," Brian added, undeterred.
"Mikey thinks Empire was the best Star Wars movie. You can't trust his taste."
"Did you just..." Brian put a hand on heart, looking mock hurt. "Did you compare me to The Empire Strikes Back? Creepy glass dolls I can handle, but no way am I like Empire."
"Boba Fett is awesome!" Mikey shouted from the living room, and Gerard and Brian glanced at each other before dissolving into laughter.
*
Brian showed up at the practice the next day, making it almost impossible for Gerard to focus. He wore baggy jeans and an Alkaline Trio hoodie, nothing special, but Gerard felt his gaze sliding to where he sat over and over again, against his will.
In between songs while Ray and Bob bickered over the setlist for the party, Gerard went to grab himself a beer. Brian got off of the cooler and pulled out a Coors Light.
"Here you go," he said.
"Thanks," Gerard said, immediately turning tail to go.
"Wait," Brian said. "Stay here and talk to me."
"About what?" Gerard asked.
"I don't know, whatever. Our project," Brian suggested.
"Henry VIII was a whore," Gerard said. That was really all he'd gotten out of their research.
Brian laughed. "Whores don't usually behead people, though."
"You must not read much Frank Miller," Gerard said.
He laughed again, and then took a step closer to Gerard. "Hang on," he said. "You've got something in your eye..." He put a steadying hand on Gerard's shoulder as he leaned in, and Gerard took a stumbling step back. Brian shouldn't - it wasn't fair - Gerard couldn't think with him so close.
He rubbed his own eye with his fist and blinked away the eyelash. "It's fine," he said.
"Okay," Brian said. He sat back down on the cooler, and Gerard pretended he didn't notice his faintly hurt expression. He couldn't avoid Mikey, though, who met his gaze and rolled his eyes before looking at the ceiling and shaking his head.
*
The day before Halloween, Gerard looked up from the Doom Patrol comic he was reading, his back against their tree, when he heard muted footsteps in the grass. He saw Brian coming toward him and bristled with annoyance at the way his breath caught.
"Did you follow me?" he called out.
Brian dropped his backpack and sat down next to Gerard in the grass. "Bob told me you guys sometimes sneak out here to smoke."
"So you did follow me," Gerard translated.
"I want a cigarette," Brian answered.
Gerard ignored him and pulled out one of his own. He went to light it, only to find that his lighter wouldn't spark. He shook it and cupped his other hand around it to shelter it from the light wind, but it didn't help. "Shit."
Beside him, Brian flicked his own lighter to life and held it out for Gerard. Gerard looked at it a moment before putting his cigarette in his mouth and leaning down to meet the flame. At the last moment, though, Brian released the button from under his thumb. "Answer one question first."
Gerard pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and started gathering his things. "Forget it."
"No, come on," Brian said, placing a hand on Gerard shoulder and making him freeze. "It's an easy one, I swear."
Gerard crossed his arms over his chest and glared. "Fine, you can ask, but I don't know if I'll answer."
"What club are you in?" Brian asked, striking Gerard dumb with his randomness.
"What?"
"I talked to the guidance counselor, and she told me that everyone has to join at least one club or sport a year. I know you don't play a sport, and I was curious."
Gerard smirked. "You're wrong, actually."
"No, that's what Ms. Jasper said."
"Not about that," Gerard said. "About me playing a sport."
"You play a sport?" Brian asked, his eyebrow raising in disbelief. "You're fucking with me."
"Nope," Gerard said, grinning. "Spring training starts in March."
"You don't play baseball," Brian said. He sized Gerard up, as if looking for some hidden muscle or maybe a mitt tucked in his back pocket.
"I'm the captain," Gerard said.
"Of the baseball team?" Brian stared at Gerard like he'd never seen him before.
Gerard let him wonder a couple seconds longer, and then timed his answer just as Brian was taking a drag from his cigarette, "Croquet."
Right on cue, Brian choked on the smoke he inhaled and started coughing. "What? Okay, there has to be a story behind this. No fucking way do you play croquet."
"I do," Gerard insisted. He thought about making Brian live with his curiosity, but then figured one of the other guys would just tell him anyway. "The five of us, actually. It was the only sport that didn't already have some kind of club or team running. You need three members and a staff advisor to make a club, so when Mikey started coming here and we picked up Frank and Bob, Mikey thought up the idea. Well, first we tried to sell them on an anime or comic book club, but I guess those aren't appropriate Amcrest student activities."
"So you play croquet," Brian said.
"Yup. Bought a book about it and everything," Gerard confirmed. "Mr. Roper, Frank's Earth Science teacher last year, is supposedly our advisor, but since there's no other croquet clubs in the schools around here, we don't go anywhere or play games - or, well, I think they're called matches? All we do is practice two days a week for an hour."
"That's ingenuous," Brian said. He sounded genuinely impressed.
"Mikey's always coming up with that kind of stuff."
"Then what did you do before Mikey and Frank came, when it was just you and Ray?" Brian asked.
Gerard grimaced. That answer was less impressive. "Chorus. I hated it." Mrs. Hart still gave him wounded, puppy dog eyes when she saw him in the hallways. Gerard had taken to avoiding the music wing at all costs.
Brian smiled. "I can see that, though, since I know you sing. Croquet, on the other hand..."
"Hey, I'm fucking awesome at croquet. I can hit the ball really far."
"Is that the point of the game?" Brian asked.
Gerard shrugged. "It is when we play. Would you light this now?" He held up his cigarette still dangling between two fingers.
"Oh yeah!" Brian said, "hang on." He flicked the lighter to life, and Gerard bent down to light it again.
They were silent for a few moments, smoking and enjoying the crisp October air. Gerard checked his cell phone and saw that there was still fifteen minutes until his study period was over. He couldn't miss English, but he had time.
"So I know you and Mikey," Brian said, interrupting the quiet. "And now I've met your mom. Your family doesn't seem like the private school type. How did you end up here?"
Gerard took a long drag of his cigarette and then ashed it in the grass away from him. He looked up, squinting, into the sunlight filtering in between the leaves of the trees, took another drag and then answered. "It's my fault. At the beginning of eighth grade, my...my grandmother died."
"Were you close to her?" Brian asked softly.
Gerard nodded. "She lived a few houses down from me my whole life. She was nuts. You've met my mom, you know what she's like? She's nothing compared to the way Helena was. Anyway, when my grandma died, I was really fucking depressed for a while and got in some trouble at school. Well, a lot of trouble. The counselor told my parents that private school would be a better place for me."
"Wow," Brian said. Then, after a pause, "Had the counselor ever met you?"
"I know, right? And here I am. My family's not poor enough to get financial aid like Frankie, and my grades are shitty, so I don't get any scholarships like Ray. My parents have to pay full price. Plus, then Mikey refused to go to Hudson without me, so he's here too. Tada."
Gerard took another drag from his cigarette, played with the edge of the comic he was reading and tried not to let the resurfaced grief show on his face. If his grandma was alive, she would have talked his parents out of sending him here. Then again, if she had been alive, it never would have come up in the first place.
"Mikey's mentioned her before too," Brian said. "She sounds awesome."
"I wish you could have met her," Gerard said, surprised when he realized he was telling the truth. "She was a crazy old broad." He smiled, imagining the whack across the back of the head he would have earned for that. "What about you?" he found himself asking. "Where did you live before this? How did you end up here?"
"Indianapolis, and the usual reason, I guess," Brian answered. "My dad's job transferred him. It was either here or Kansas City, and he chose here, thank god."
"Moving during senior year, that must suck." Gerard couldn't imagine doing it, even if it meant getting out of this hellhole - the devil you know, and all that.
Brian turned to look at him. "It's not so bad," he said, taking one last drag from his cigarette and extinguishing it in the dirt. Then he drew himself up to his knees so he towered over Gerard, his face set in a determined expression.
"Um..." Gerard said smartly, pitching his own finished cigarette. "What are you doing?"
"Okay," Brian said. "Listen." He shifted closer and said again, adamantly, "Listen."
Gerard waited a few seconds, and then answered, "I am. You're not saying anything."
"Okay," Brian repeated, and took a deep breath. "I get that I made a bad first impression on you, right? But I'm not a bad guy. You should know that about me." Gerard opened his mouth to say - who knew what - but Brian steamrolled over him. "Here's the thing: I like you a lot. You make great music, and you seem like a great brother, and you're just...great." Brian made a pained face, which was probably nothing compared to the shock Gerard was wearing on his own. "I'm really not fucking saying this right, but the point is that I like you, and I think that you might eventually like me too. Maybe. But I'm not a creep, so I'm just going to...Look, if you hate me as much as you say you do, and you don't want me around you anymore, you should tell now, okay? I'll leave you alone, I promise."
He stopped talking and stared at Gerard expectantly. Gerard swallowed, his throat suddenly bone dry, and opened his mouth. "I..." he began. He licked his lips and tried again, because he couldn't squeeze any other words out. "I..."
As Brian watched his floundering, a small smile quirked up the corners of his mouth. The longer Gerard gaped at him, the wider it became, until he looked briefly down at his hands and then back up at Gerard, eyes shining. "Well, all right then."
Gerard felt himself redden as he clumsily grabbed his cigarettes, lighter and comic and stood up, with Brian following him in a much smoother fashion. "Whatever," he managed to choke out, crossing his arms over his chest. "I have to get to English." He told himself he wasn't running away, even when he tripped on the bridge going across the stream and almost ended up ass-first in the water. He got his balance back at the last second, thank god, and made it back inside with five minutes to spare before his class.
Brian didn't follow him, but Gerard totally didn't care anyway.
*
Later that night, Gerard was on his computer, looking up spoilers for The Watchmen movie and not thinking about Brian when his phone buzzed. The text was from an unknown number, but Gerard knew who it was going to be before he opened it.
Best horror movie?
Gerard bit his lip around his smile and took a few seconds to calm down. Then he responded, dawn of the dead is the only answer to that question.
No appeared immediately, followed by Nightmare on Elm Street.
Now that was just wrong. He pushed his laptop off his legs and got comfortable on the bed. Then he set about showing Brian the error of his ways in one hundred and sixty-character increments.
*
It seemed like Gerard blinked and suddenly October was over and it was Halloween, the night of their gig. He and Mikey pre-gamed some of their performance jitters away in Mikey's bedroom before Bob picked them up and drove them to Frank's house where Ray was waiting for them.
Frank was in costume, a crazy Frankenstein get-up that Gerard was kind of afraid would make it hard for him to play. Gerard was the only one of them wearing the kick ass uniform he created. His favorite part was the red arm band that he decorated with a Sharpie - it was so sweet.
Frank was already bouncing off the walls when they arrived, still high from the excitement of getting his license and being able to legally drive his car. Gerard gave him the gift he'd picked up: the gaudiest, most ridiculous pair of fuzzy dice he could find at the dollar store down the block from his house. Mikey, Bob and Ray got him the same kind of stuff, which they delivered to him in one big shopping bag before loading all of their shit into Bob's car. Ray ended up stuck driving with Frank after all, despite his complaints.
"Oh hey, did Brian say anything to you about coming tonight?" Frank asked Mikey as they hustled an amp out of the garage and into the open trunk.
Gerard followed with Ray's guitar and pretended like he wasn't listening.
"He said he'd be there," Mikey answered. "He also said he got you a gift."
"Awesome," Frank said. "It wouldn't be the same without him."
"Yeah, imagine going a whole day without seeing Brian. How did we ever survive without him?" Gerard questioned as he slid the guitar in underneath a seat.
"I think the lady doth protest too much," Bob said.
Frank did his best to cover his giggle behind his hand, but Gerard still heard it and glared.
"And I think the douche bag doth need to mind his own fucking business," he retorted.
*
By the time they arrived at the party, there were already cars parked halfway down the block. It took a while for them to find a place where they could drag all their stuff into the house. When everything was safely inside, Gerard found the kitchen and the keg flowing in the middle of the room.
The kid filling his cup was wearing the bottom half of a bear suit, with the head resting on the counter behind him. His smile looked big enough to eat his entire face, which was kind of a cool image, actually.
"Thanks," Gerard said when he got his red plastic cup full of beer.
"Sure. I'm Pete, by the way," the guy said. "I don't think I know you."
"Oh, um, Gerard," he answered. "Bob's friend?"
"Are you in the band?" Pete asked, shuffling closer to Gerard with his fat, fake fur-covered legs.
Gerard took a cautious step backwards. "Singer," he confirmed.
"Oh, awesome, you have to meet...hang on." Reaching out with a quickness belied by his costume, he grabbed onto the shoulder of another guy, shorter and wearing a Fedora that Gerard assumed was his costume, pulling him into their conversation. "Patrick, this is Gerard, he's in Bob's band. Gerard, this is Patrick Vaugh Stumph, both h's silent."
"Um..." Gerard said at a loss when faced with Pete's exuberance. "Hi?"
Patrick took it in stride, though, just rolling his eyes. "Hey. Patrick. This is my house; thanks for agreeing to play."
"No problem, you're doing us a favor, man, really. We've never played in front of an audience before." Gerard didn't register that maybe that wasn't the best thing to admit to the guy until it was already out of his mouth. "I mean, we practice and stuff, so it's not like..."
"It's cool," Patrick said, waving away Gerard's attempts to backpedal. "We've got a band too, actually, but I didn't want to play at my own party, you know."
Just then, Mikey appeared at his elbow, scowl fixed in place. "Gee, dude, come help us set up."
"Sure," he said, turning to go before Pete's pointed cough made him pause. "Oh, this is my brother, Mikey. He's in our band too. Mikey: Pete and Patrick. This is Patrick's place."
"Hey," Mikey greeted.
"Hi, your hair is amazing," Pete gushed. His own was worn in typical emo side-part fashion.
Mikey smoothed a hand down the point of his hair and looked at Pete suspiciously before deciding that he was being serious. "Thanks."
Patrick looked disbelieving at Pete's pronouncement. Gerard couldn't blame him. He was no expert on hair, but Mikey's was pretty ridiculous.
"Come on, before Bob kicks both our asses," Mikey said, bumping his shoulder against Gerard's. "Nice meeting you guys."
"Talk to you later, Mikey!" Pete called.
"That guy's weird," Mikey declared as they walked out of the kitchen. Gerard graciously refrained from pointing out the humor in the fact that even Mikey thought it was weird for someone to compliment his hair. Nobody could say he wasn't a kind older brother.
Sure enough, Bob gave them both the finger as they approached. "Get over here and help us, you lazy fucks."
"Coming, god!" Gerard said, waving his own finger back. He rested his beer on top of an amp and bent down to plug in some cords that Frank was fiddling with.
"Hi, guys."
It was Brian's voice, and Gerard heaved himself off of the floor in a flash and whirled around. Brian was wearing a scuffed leather jacket over a Smiths t-shirt and jeans. He looked good, but that wasn't surprising. Gerard had come to accept that he was doomed to always find Brian hot, even in the school uniforms that didn't manage to flatter anyone else.
What was surprising was that Brian wasn't alone.
"Oh my god," Frank whispered from beside Gerard.
"Hi," Brian said again, grinning, when they'd made their way to where Gerard and the others were standing. "Sorry I'm late, but Jamia didn't have a ride."
No one spoke for a moment, until Ray choked out, "Don't worry about it." It sounded a lot like he was holding back his laughter.
"I was telling her about how I'm probably going straight over to Gerard and Mikey's after the party, so she'd have to find another way home."
"I have a car," Frank said quickly, not missing the opportunity. "I could drive you home, if you wanted."
"Thanks," Jamia said with a small grin. "Isn't it your birthday today?"
"Yeah," Frank answered. The expression on his face was so completely gobsmacked that Gerard had to hold in his own inappropriate snickers.
"Happy birthday," she said. "Wow, you must really love Halloween, then, huh?"
"It's my favorite," Frank croaked.
"I bet," Jamia responded. "Hey, I'm gonna go get something to drink. Does anyone want anything?" When they all shook their heads, she started making her way through the crush of people to the kitchen.
"Oh my god," Frank repeated when she was out of earshot, then looked down at himself and back up at them in despair. "I'm dressed as Frankenstein."
"It's Halloween," Bob said, giving him a rough pat on the back.
"There's something else," Brian said. "A friend of mine back in Indianapolis, she knows some people here, and she was able to get you guys a couple hours in a recording studio that's like twenty minutes away."
"Seriously?" Ray asked, his eyes wide. Gerard imagined that his own face looked much the same.
"It's not much, but I figured you guys could record a couple of songs, maybe put together a demo or something." Brian was speaking to all of them, but he was looking straight at Gerard.
"That's...incredible," Gerard said. His heart was beating wildly against his ribcage, and it felt like he couldn't breathe.
"Yeah?" Brian asked, a hopeful smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
"Yeah," Gerard confirmed. They stood there grinning at each other a moment, until Frank ruined it by throwing himself onto Brian in an aggressive hug.
"I love you, Schechter!" he cried. "Those are the best birthday gifts ever!"
"You should be our manager or something," Mikey said.
Brian laughed and returned the hug. "You're welcome, but I didn't do much. I mean, I called my friend, but Jamia likes you, she told me. All I did was give her a ride."
"No shit, she said that?" Frank asked, sounding awed.
"She did," Brian confirmed. "So go find her, moron."
Frank didn't need to be told twice. He dashed off into the crowd, quickly blending into the sea of people.
"How much longer do we have?" Gerard asked.
"Patrick said we should start at eleven," Bob said. "That's like twenty minutes."
"I'm gonna go outside and have a cigarette before you guys go on," Brian said.
"I'll come with you," Gerard said quickly, before he could think about it, and ignoring Bob's huff of annoyance at once again getting out of setting up.
Gerard followed Brian through the house and out a backdoor that led to a porch with an empty picnic table, some plastic chairs and wooden swing. The music muffled when Gerard pulled closed the wooden door behind them. Brian made a beeline for the porch swing at the end of the deck and gestured for Gerard to join him with one hand as he fished out his cigarettes with the other. Gerard sat down next to him, trying not to freak out too much at the way their thighs touched. From the corner of his eye, he saw the brief flare of the lighter, then Brian passed him the newly lit cigarette before lighting another one for himself.
"Thanks," Gerard said.
"Sure," Brian answered.
"And thanks for calling your friend about getting us that studio time. That was nice of you," Gerard added.
"I think you guys will make a good demo," Brian said.
Gerard rocked the swing a bit as he mused. "We could put 'Helena' on it, and 'Vampires' and 'Headfirst For Halos.' We might be able to talk Bob into doing 'Sorrows.' I've been working on a couple more too. One I'm calling 'I'm Not Okay' and then maybe 'Here's To The Venom' or 'Thanks For The Venom' or something else. I don't know, I have to talk it out with Ray."
"Is 'I'm Not Okay' the one you two were messing around with on Wednesday?"
"Yeah," Gerard said, taking a long drag from his cigarette.
"I liked that one."
"It's still rough," Gerard said, "but it's coming along, mostly because of Ray."
"Gotta love Ray," Brian said. His cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth, and his dark hair was disheveled - not in the carefully created look Mikey had, but like he'd spent too much time running his fingers through it. He was pretty much the best thing Gerard had ever seen, and for one second, he wished he had a paper and pencil to try and draw him. Brian used his legs to rock the swing a bit, slanting a grin at Gerard and then doing a double take when he saw Gerard staring. "What's wrong?"
Gerard shook his head. "Nothing, just...you're an all right guy, Schechter. Did you know that?" He wrapped his hand around the chain on his side of the swing and looked up at the clear, dark sky.
Brian huffed a laugh beside him. "An all right guy. I did know that, actually. Glad you've finally seen it, though."
Gerard turned to look at Brian, feeling honest and maybe a little brave. "That first day of history class..."
"Oh god, would you let it go already?" Brian interrupted. "How many times do I have to apologize?"
"No, I wasn't going to..." Gerard struggled with the words in his head, trying to get them right. "I wanted you to sit next to me that day, that's why I was so mad. I wanted you to like me, and I thought you didn't."
Brian ran his fingers through his hair and made an agonized noise. "Gerard," he groaned before surging forward and kissing him with enough force to push Gerard back against the armrest and rock the swing precariously.
Gerard had the presence of mind to drop his cigarette on the ground, and then he wrapped that arm around Brian's shoulders and kissed back, hoping it wasn't too obvious that it was his first time. After a moment, Brian pulled away, panting, and looked down at Gerard.
"I do like you," he said.
"I know," Gerard said, breathless. "You're okay too."
Brian smiled and put his hand on Gerard's jaw, tilting his chin up and bending down to kiss him again. It was even better that time - with Brian's hand and his lips, the smooth metal of his lip ring and the way that his smaller, more compact body fit against Gerard's - so much better that Gerard stopped trying so hard, stopped thinking altogether, and just went with it.
"Hey, Romeo and Juliet, now that I'm scarred for life, do you think you two could stop sucking face so that we could play our fucking set?"
Gerard gave Bob the finger over the side of the swing while Brian tucked his face against Gerard's shoulder and laughed.
"Seriously, three minutes," he called. The door swung shut, and Gerard felt embarrassed for a second before Bob's words registered, and then all he felt was sheer terror.
"I think I'm going to throw up," he said.
"Always what someone wants to hear after they've just..."
"Shut up, you know what I mean," Gerard said, pushing on Brian's shoulder to get out from under him. He tried standing up, and yeah, no. He managed to make it to the garage before hurling all over the grass.
Brian came up behind him and rubbed a soothing hand over his back. Gerard was sure that would embarrass him later, when his hands stopped shaking.
"You're gonna do great, Gerard. You know these songs backwards and forwards."
"Everyone's gonna hate them," he said, feeling, suddenly, a bone-deep certainty of that fact. "They're gonna throw tomatoes and shit like in the movies or at The Apollo."
"Gerard," Brian said, and he could hear the amusement coming through, even though there was nothing fucking funny about this. "Everyone's so drunk, you could be playing the ukelele and singing sea shanties, and they would love it. Now come on, the guys are waiting."
Gerard straightened up and turned to look fearfully at the house. "Okay, let's go." Brian gestured forward and Gerard made his way back in the house. "I can't believe I threw up when..." He glanced back at the swing.
"You can make it up to me," Brian said. "After you brush your teeth."
Gerard rolled his eyes at Brian, but let him hold open the door and guide Gerard into the house with a warm hand pressed against his back.
*
Epilogue
Gerard crossed the bridge over the stream. Brian walked behind him with one finger crooked around the belt loop of Gerard's slacks.
"I'll miss this bridge," Gerard said.
"No, you won't," Brian laughed.
Gerard looked around, at the orchids and the stupid, colorful fish in the stream and the evenly cut grass, and had to agree. "No, I won't. What was I thinking?"
"The last day of school makes everyone nostalgic, even you," Brian said. "Watch, next you'll be signing yearbooks left and right. K.I.T."
"Fuck off, I'd kill myself first," Gerard said. "Hey."
"Gee, you need to be the voice of reason," Bob said by way of greeting, "and tell this stupid fuck that we should listen to Powerslave instead of fucking Walk Among Us."
"What do you have against the Misfits, Bob?" Frank asked, waving the CD enticingly. "What have they ever done to you?"
"Made shitty music," Bob answered. "Gee?"
Gerard raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not getting in the middle of this argument. It does seem like an Iron Maiden day, though."
"Ha!" Bob said. "Three to one, bitch."
"If we're voting, I pick the Misfits," Brian piped up.
"That's why you're so fucking awesome, Schechter," Frank beamed. "I always liked you. Now where's my best friend, Mikeyway? He'll be on my side."
"He said he had something to do before school, probably with his World History group," Gerard answered, though just the mention of his brother brought back all the worries that had been plaguing Gerard for weeks. Though he was fucking ecstatic about leaving this place and heading to New York with Brian and Bob, he couldn't help worrying about Mikey and Frank, stuck there for another two years. He reminded himself that all the biggest assholes were graduating with him, which should make things a lot easier for them, and that they still had Jamia to hang out with next year. Plus, it wasn't like Gerard and Mikey were never going to see each other. They planned to buy a car with the money they earned over the summer so that Gerard could drive back for band practices and weekends.
"That means I win," Bob said. "Toro, put that shit on."
"I still think that my count should be worth more anyway," Ray grumbled as he changed the CDs. "Since it's my radio."
"You got what you wanted," Frank said. He sat crosslegged on the dirt, his back against their tree. Frank's tree. It wouldn't be Gerard's after today. "Why are you bitching?"
"I'm just saying that I never saw any of you fuckers buying batteries for it," Ray muttered under his breath.
"What time are we meeting tonight?" Brian asked.
"The guy I talked to said we should get there at six to help set up, so I thought we could meet at Frank's at five-thirty," Ray said.
Gerard felt a nervous twist inside his stomach at the mention of that night. Brian had used their six-track demo to get them a real headlining gig. It was at the community center, and the openers were three high school bands even shittier than them, but still. Gerard convinced the other guys to wear the uniforms he came up with, and they all looked bad ass. He'd even designed fliers for the event, and they'd wallpapered their respective neighborhoods with them.
"How much time do we have until the bell?" Gerard asked, contemplating his half-finished cigarette and wondering if he could get in another.
"Ten minutes," Ray said. Then he reached out and patted the tree fondly. Gerard knew how he felt.
*
Gerard couldn't say there was any twinge of nostalgia when he walked into history. He sat down next to Brian and gave a long-suffering sigh.
"Not gonna miss this, huh?" Brian asked knowingly.
"Not even a little," Gerard responded. "The only good thing about it was you, and I'm going to be stuck with you all summer."
"Speaking of that, I bought our plane tickets for Indiana. We leave July 22nd."
"Cool," Gerard said. He was spending a week in Indiana with Brian, meeting all his friends and the rest of his family. Mostly, he tried not to think about it. He had to get through the gig that night and finding a summer job before he'd let himself worry about that.
"They're going to like you," Brian said, as if sensing Gerard's nervousness. Gerard didn't respond, just threw a disbelieving look his way. "They will, asshole."
"I guess we'll find out," Gerard said as the bell rang.
The talking in the class quieted to whispers as they waited for the morning announcements to start. After a moment, the intercom crackled to life, and a tinny voice came through.
"So. Um."
Gerard's head whipped up to the speaker, because tinny or not, he'd recognize his brother's voice anywhere.
"I'm interrupting your regular morning announcements to say that my band, My Chemical Romance, is playing tonight at seven o'clock at the Field's Community Center, and you should come. This is one of our songs called 'I'm Not Okay.'" There was a long pause, and Gerard could hear the sound of banging in the background, like someone was trying to get in a door, and then a throat clearing. Mikey said, "Oh, um, by the way, this is Mikey Way."
He sounded so awkward and Mikey-like that Gerard croaked out a laugh despite his shock. He turned wide eyes to Brian, who looked just as surprised as he felt. "Holy fuck," he breathed, as the first strains of the song kicked in.
*
As soon as school was over, Gerard ran down to the principal's office. Mikey was sitting outside, and he could see his parents inside talking to Mr. Havisham.
"Holy fuck, Mikes!" he cried when he saw him.
Mikey looked up and grinned.
"What are they going to do to you?" Gerard asked.
Mikey shrugged. "They were talking about mom and dad making a 'charitable donation' to the school before they made me leave the room."
Gerard sighed. That killed the plan to save money for a car. His parents were going to make Mikey pay back every cent that they had to donate to keep him in school. "Of course," he said. "They wouldn't kick you out anyway, not when we're paying full tuition."
"Don't think I'm gonna get to be office aid next year though," Mikey said. He took a puff from his inhaler as Gerard laughed.
"You could say it was my idea," he offered. "That I put you up to it."
"And let you take all the credit for this?" Mikey asked. "No way."
"I can't believe you did it," Gerard said incredulously, sitting in a folding chair next to Mikey. "You're fucking crazy."
"You said you wanted to get the word out," Mikey pointed out. "And who knows, maybe if people find out that we're in a band, they won't give me and Frank such a hard time next year."
Gerard flinched at the reminder of his own concerns. "Now that I won't be here anymore, I bet we could convince mom and dad to let you go to Hudson instead of this shithole."
Mikey stayed silent a moment before shaking his head. "Nah. I mean, what about Frank? I couldn't leave him. And I was hanging out with Jamia and some of her friends - Alicia, Sarah and that guy Matt? They like comic books and horror movies and stuff. They seemed all right. Actually, they were talking about taking a road trip to Comic Con this year."
"Oh yeah?" Gerard asked. He knew Jamia was cool, but he hadn't gotten to know her friends.
"Yeah, you and Brian should come, if you aren't in Indiana."
"I'll talk to him about it," Gerard said. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, until Gerard thought of something that made him smile. "Man, Helena would have loved this."
Mikey grinned back at him, but didn't get a chance to respond, because it was at that moment that their parents came out of the office. His mother narrowed her eyes when she saw Gerard.
"I had nothing to do with it!" Gerard said.
"You always have something to do with it," she responded. "What am I, a fucking idiot? Both of you, let's go."
"Seriously, this time it was all Mikey. I didn't even know about it!"
She rolled her eyes. "If there's one thing I've learned after putting up with you two for sixteen years, it's that you're a matched pair. You're just lucky we're letting you play in that show tonight. Get in the car, and we can start talking about repayment plans."
Mikey stared at her and pitifully took a puff from his inhaler.
"Oh, do not play me, Michael James Way," she warned.
"Worth a try," Mikey whispered. Gerard laughed and swung an arm around his brother's shoulders as he walked out of Amcrest for the last time.
The next week, Gerard was in the middle of drawing a really grotesque zombie about to take a bite out of someone's nose when Mrs. Verona made an announcement.
"We're going partner up for this project, and it'll be due October 24th, which is this Friday. You can work with the person sitting next to you, and the four people without anyone next to them can pair up. Got it? Okay, let me pass out the assignment and rubric."
With a sense of dread, Gerard turned to see Brian already watching him. "Hi, partner."
Oh god. They would have to meet outside of class for this. Gerard hated his life. "Seriously, why couldn't you sit by them?" he asked desperately, with a jerk of his head behind him. Anyone else in the class would have been preferably than having to deal with Brian alone. He would rather be partners with Christian and do the whole project naked than deal with Brian alone.
Brian's smile dimmed somewhat and he looked back there. "I don't like them."
"I thought you were waiting to make your own judgments?" Gerard asked sarcastically, throwing Brian's words back at him.
"I did, and I decided that I don't like them," Brian answered. "Did you know that when they call you 'freak' that they really mean 'fag'?"
Gerard stared at his hands a moment and swallowed a couple of times before he could speak around his humiliation. "You didn't?" he asked finally, hoping that his voice didn't shake much. "God, where the fuck did you go to school before this?"
"They call you Way the gay."
"Clever," Gerard spit out between clenched teeth.
"So I should have listened to you," Brian concluded. "They're assholes."
Gerard should have let it go there, with Brian recognizing Gerard's wisdom, but some masochistic part of him made him keep talking. Maybe it was to shock Brian, or just rile him up, but Gerard found himself saying, "They're right though."
"Huh?" Brian said, at the same moment that Mrs. Verona slid two pieces of paper onto their table.
Gerard waited until she past them and then looked around for anyone who might overhear before whispering, heart in his throat, "About me being gay. They're right."
Brian gave his own look around the room as he leaned close. "Me too," he whispered back, just as quiet.
Gerard's hand clenched around his pen so hard that he thought it would crack and get ink everywhere. "Oh," he responded faintly.
"Yeah, oh," Brian said, sitting back in his chair.
It wasn't like Brian was the first other gay person Gerard had met - obviously not, he lived in Jersey not Nantucket - but he was the first one at school, and the first one that Gerard - that he -
Holy shit. Gerard thought that maybe - but apparently there was a huge difference between thinking and knowing. He felt warm all over, and the pen in his fist was getting slippery in his clammy grasp. He dropped it on the table and wiped both sweaty palms on his thighs.
"So since I have a car, why don't I drive you and Mikey home one day this week and we can work on this there?" Brian asked.
"Okay," Gerard said, because he would have agreed to anything at that moment.
"You practice at Frank's on Wednesday and Thursday and it's due on Friday, so how about tomorrow?"
"Fine," Gerard croaked, wetting his dry lips. Thank god he wasn't Mikeyway, or he'd be having a full-on asthma attack right then. As it was, Gerard had to concentrate on regulating his breathing and stopping his hands from shaking.
"Cool," Brian said.
*
In the car on the way home from school the next day, Gerard sat in the backseat and was uncharacteristically quiet while Brian and Mikey talked music. The ride was only about fifteen minutes long without all of the stops the bus made, so they got to the house quickly.
Gerard set them up at the kitchen table. Mikey puttered around, getting them all Cokes before wandering into the living room. A few minutes later, the opening strains of 'Space Oddity' came filtering in. Gerard grabbed an ashtray off the counter and brought it to the table. Taking out his pack, he lit one and took a long drag.
"Your parents let you smoke in the house?" Brian asked, sounding surprised.
"They wouldn't have a fucking leg to stand on if they tried to stop me," Gerard said.
"Can I?" Brian asked, pulling out his own cigarettes.
"Go for it," Gerard said.
Brian lit his own and settled it in the ashtray next to Gerard's. "Okay, so I took some notes about Henry VIII that will help us." He pulled out a rubberbanded stack of notecards from inside a folder. "These first ten are stuff about his life, and then these are about the religious stuff that went on, with the Protestant Reformation and all that shit, then these are about his wives."
Gerard stared down at the notecards - they were color-coded, Brian had color-coded them by topic, Gerard tried and failed not to find that endearing. "Wow, um. I have my book?"
"Yeah," Brian said. He ducked his head and palmed the back of his neck as his tongue peaked out to trace his lip ring. "I'm organized when it comes to school and stuff."
The front door busted open then - which was good because Gerard's brain hadn't moved past staring at Brian's shiny bottom lip to put together a response - and his mother's white blonde hair was barely evident over the three paper bags full of groceries she was holding.
"Would one of you two come help me please?" she asked.
Before Gerard could react, Brian jumped up, took the bags from his mother and placed them on the counter.
"Thank you," she said once she's gotten rid of her purse and coat. "Well, you're a new face."
"I'm Brian. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Way," he said, sticking his hand out for Gerard's mom to shake.
His mom looked Brian over and then turned to Gerard with both dark eyebrows raised. "So this is Brian," she said in a way that made it totally obvious that they'd been talking about him. Gerard wanted to melt into the floor.
"He's Mikey's friend," Gerard emphasized. "We're doing a history project together."
"Nice to meet you, Brian," she said. Then to Gerard she declared, "I like him." She walked over to the table and took a drag from Gerard's cigarette before he could stop her, and replaced it in the ashtray. "Now I've got to run to the bathroom, but after that, you both are helping me put this stuff away. You too, Mikey!" she called into the living room.
"Fine!" Mikey yelled from where he was probably playing Warcraft on his laptop.
She walked out of the room, and Gerard heard her heeled shoes track upstairs to the bathroom.
When Gerard looked back at Brian, he was smiling. "Your mom likes me," he said.
"Yeah, well," Gerard said, feeling his cheeks warm, "my mom also collects those creepy glass dolls that she keeps in a display case in the dining room."
"Your brother likes me," Brian added, undeterred.
"Mikey thinks Empire was the best Star Wars movie. You can't trust his taste."
"Did you just..." Brian put a hand on heart, looking mock hurt. "Did you compare me to The Empire Strikes Back? Creepy glass dolls I can handle, but no way am I like Empire."
"Boba Fett is awesome!" Mikey shouted from the living room, and Gerard and Brian glanced at each other before dissolving into laughter.
*
Brian showed up at the practice the next day, making it almost impossible for Gerard to focus. He wore baggy jeans and an Alkaline Trio hoodie, nothing special, but Gerard felt his gaze sliding to where he sat over and over again, against his will.
In between songs while Ray and Bob bickered over the setlist for the party, Gerard went to grab himself a beer. Brian got off of the cooler and pulled out a Coors Light.
"Here you go," he said.
"Thanks," Gerard said, immediately turning tail to go.
"Wait," Brian said. "Stay here and talk to me."
"About what?" Gerard asked.
"I don't know, whatever. Our project," Brian suggested.
"Henry VIII was a whore," Gerard said. That was really all he'd gotten out of their research.
Brian laughed. "Whores don't usually behead people, though."
"You must not read much Frank Miller," Gerard said.
He laughed again, and then took a step closer to Gerard. "Hang on," he said. "You've got something in your eye..." He put a steadying hand on Gerard's shoulder as he leaned in, and Gerard took a stumbling step back. Brian shouldn't - it wasn't fair - Gerard couldn't think with him so close.
He rubbed his own eye with his fist and blinked away the eyelash. "It's fine," he said.
"Okay," Brian said. He sat back down on the cooler, and Gerard pretended he didn't notice his faintly hurt expression. He couldn't avoid Mikey, though, who met his gaze and rolled his eyes before looking at the ceiling and shaking his head.
*
The day before Halloween, Gerard looked up from the Doom Patrol comic he was reading, his back against their tree, when he heard muted footsteps in the grass. He saw Brian coming toward him and bristled with annoyance at the way his breath caught.
"Did you follow me?" he called out.
Brian dropped his backpack and sat down next to Gerard in the grass. "Bob told me you guys sometimes sneak out here to smoke."
"So you did follow me," Gerard translated.
"I want a cigarette," Brian answered.
Gerard ignored him and pulled out one of his own. He went to light it, only to find that his lighter wouldn't spark. He shook it and cupped his other hand around it to shelter it from the light wind, but it didn't help. "Shit."
Beside him, Brian flicked his own lighter to life and held it out for Gerard. Gerard looked at it a moment before putting his cigarette in his mouth and leaning down to meet the flame. At the last moment, though, Brian released the button from under his thumb. "Answer one question first."
Gerard pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and started gathering his things. "Forget it."
"No, come on," Brian said, placing a hand on Gerard shoulder and making him freeze. "It's an easy one, I swear."
Gerard crossed his arms over his chest and glared. "Fine, you can ask, but I don't know if I'll answer."
"What club are you in?" Brian asked, striking Gerard dumb with his randomness.
"What?"
"I talked to the guidance counselor, and she told me that everyone has to join at least one club or sport a year. I know you don't play a sport, and I was curious."
Gerard smirked. "You're wrong, actually."
"No, that's what Ms. Jasper said."
"Not about that," Gerard said. "About me playing a sport."
"You play a sport?" Brian asked, his eyebrow raising in disbelief. "You're fucking with me."
"Nope," Gerard said, grinning. "Spring training starts in March."
"You don't play baseball," Brian said. He sized Gerard up, as if looking for some hidden muscle or maybe a mitt tucked in his back pocket.
"I'm the captain," Gerard said.
"Of the baseball team?" Brian stared at Gerard like he'd never seen him before.
Gerard let him wonder a couple seconds longer, and then timed his answer just as Brian was taking a drag from his cigarette, "Croquet."
Right on cue, Brian choked on the smoke he inhaled and started coughing. "What? Okay, there has to be a story behind this. No fucking way do you play croquet."
"I do," Gerard insisted. He thought about making Brian live with his curiosity, but then figured one of the other guys would just tell him anyway. "The five of us, actually. It was the only sport that didn't already have some kind of club or team running. You need three members and a staff advisor to make a club, so when Mikey started coming here and we picked up Frank and Bob, Mikey thought up the idea. Well, first we tried to sell them on an anime or comic book club, but I guess those aren't appropriate Amcrest student activities."
"So you play croquet," Brian said.
"Yup. Bought a book about it and everything," Gerard confirmed. "Mr. Roper, Frank's Earth Science teacher last year, is supposedly our advisor, but since there's no other croquet clubs in the schools around here, we don't go anywhere or play games - or, well, I think they're called matches? All we do is practice two days a week for an hour."
"That's ingenuous," Brian said. He sounded genuinely impressed.
"Mikey's always coming up with that kind of stuff."
"Then what did you do before Mikey and Frank came, when it was just you and Ray?" Brian asked.
Gerard grimaced. That answer was less impressive. "Chorus. I hated it." Mrs. Hart still gave him wounded, puppy dog eyes when she saw him in the hallways. Gerard had taken to avoiding the music wing at all costs.
Brian smiled. "I can see that, though, since I know you sing. Croquet, on the other hand..."
"Hey, I'm fucking awesome at croquet. I can hit the ball really far."
"Is that the point of the game?" Brian asked.
Gerard shrugged. "It is when we play. Would you light this now?" He held up his cigarette still dangling between two fingers.
"Oh yeah!" Brian said, "hang on." He flicked the lighter to life, and Gerard bent down to light it again.
They were silent for a few moments, smoking and enjoying the crisp October air. Gerard checked his cell phone and saw that there was still fifteen minutes until his study period was over. He couldn't miss English, but he had time.
"So I know you and Mikey," Brian said, interrupting the quiet. "And now I've met your mom. Your family doesn't seem like the private school type. How did you end up here?"
Gerard took a long drag of his cigarette and then ashed it in the grass away from him. He looked up, squinting, into the sunlight filtering in between the leaves of the trees, took another drag and then answered. "It's my fault. At the beginning of eighth grade, my...my grandmother died."
"Were you close to her?" Brian asked softly.
Gerard nodded. "She lived a few houses down from me my whole life. She was nuts. You've met my mom, you know what she's like? She's nothing compared to the way Helena was. Anyway, when my grandma died, I was really fucking depressed for a while and got in some trouble at school. Well, a lot of trouble. The counselor told my parents that private school would be a better place for me."
"Wow," Brian said. Then, after a pause, "Had the counselor ever met you?"
"I know, right? And here I am. My family's not poor enough to get financial aid like Frankie, and my grades are shitty, so I don't get any scholarships like Ray. My parents have to pay full price. Plus, then Mikey refused to go to Hudson without me, so he's here too. Tada."
Gerard took another drag from his cigarette, played with the edge of the comic he was reading and tried not to let the resurfaced grief show on his face. If his grandma was alive, she would have talked his parents out of sending him here. Then again, if she had been alive, it never would have come up in the first place.
"Mikey's mentioned her before too," Brian said. "She sounds awesome."
"I wish you could have met her," Gerard said, surprised when he realized he was telling the truth. "She was a crazy old broad." He smiled, imagining the whack across the back of the head he would have earned for that. "What about you?" he found himself asking. "Where did you live before this? How did you end up here?"
"Indianapolis, and the usual reason, I guess," Brian answered. "My dad's job transferred him. It was either here or Kansas City, and he chose here, thank god."
"Moving during senior year, that must suck." Gerard couldn't imagine doing it, even if it meant getting out of this hellhole - the devil you know, and all that.
Brian turned to look at him. "It's not so bad," he said, taking one last drag from his cigarette and extinguishing it in the dirt. Then he drew himself up to his knees so he towered over Gerard, his face set in a determined expression.
"Um..." Gerard said smartly, pitching his own finished cigarette. "What are you doing?"
"Okay," Brian said. "Listen." He shifted closer and said again, adamantly, "Listen."
Gerard waited a few seconds, and then answered, "I am. You're not saying anything."
"Okay," Brian repeated, and took a deep breath. "I get that I made a bad first impression on you, right? But I'm not a bad guy. You should know that about me." Gerard opened his mouth to say - who knew what - but Brian steamrolled over him. "Here's the thing: I like you a lot. You make great music, and you seem like a great brother, and you're just...great." Brian made a pained face, which was probably nothing compared to the shock Gerard was wearing on his own. "I'm really not fucking saying this right, but the point is that I like you, and I think that you might eventually like me too. Maybe. But I'm not a creep, so I'm just going to...Look, if you hate me as much as you say you do, and you don't want me around you anymore, you should tell now, okay? I'll leave you alone, I promise."
He stopped talking and stared at Gerard expectantly. Gerard swallowed, his throat suddenly bone dry, and opened his mouth. "I..." he began. He licked his lips and tried again, because he couldn't squeeze any other words out. "I..."
As Brian watched his floundering, a small smile quirked up the corners of his mouth. The longer Gerard gaped at him, the wider it became, until he looked briefly down at his hands and then back up at Gerard, eyes shining. "Well, all right then."
Gerard felt himself redden as he clumsily grabbed his cigarettes, lighter and comic and stood up, with Brian following him in a much smoother fashion. "Whatever," he managed to choke out, crossing his arms over his chest. "I have to get to English." He told himself he wasn't running away, even when he tripped on the bridge going across the stream and almost ended up ass-first in the water. He got his balance back at the last second, thank god, and made it back inside with five minutes to spare before his class.
Brian didn't follow him, but Gerard totally didn't care anyway.
*
Later that night, Gerard was on his computer, looking up spoilers for The Watchmen movie and not thinking about Brian when his phone buzzed. The text was from an unknown number, but Gerard knew who it was going to be before he opened it.
Best horror movie?
Gerard bit his lip around his smile and took a few seconds to calm down. Then he responded, dawn of the dead is the only answer to that question.
No appeared immediately, followed by Nightmare on Elm Street.
Now that was just wrong. He pushed his laptop off his legs and got comfortable on the bed. Then he set about showing Brian the error of his ways in one hundred and sixty-character increments.
*
It seemed like Gerard blinked and suddenly October was over and it was Halloween, the night of their gig. He and Mikey pre-gamed some of their performance jitters away in Mikey's bedroom before Bob picked them up and drove them to Frank's house where Ray was waiting for them.
Frank was in costume, a crazy Frankenstein get-up that Gerard was kind of afraid would make it hard for him to play. Gerard was the only one of them wearing the kick ass uniform he created. His favorite part was the red arm band that he decorated with a Sharpie - it was so sweet.
Frank was already bouncing off the walls when they arrived, still high from the excitement of getting his license and being able to legally drive his car. Gerard gave him the gift he'd picked up: the gaudiest, most ridiculous pair of fuzzy dice he could find at the dollar store down the block from his house. Mikey, Bob and Ray got him the same kind of stuff, which they delivered to him in one big shopping bag before loading all of their shit into Bob's car. Ray ended up stuck driving with Frank after all, despite his complaints.
"Oh hey, did Brian say anything to you about coming tonight?" Frank asked Mikey as they hustled an amp out of the garage and into the open trunk.
Gerard followed with Ray's guitar and pretended like he wasn't listening.
"He said he'd be there," Mikey answered. "He also said he got you a gift."
"Awesome," Frank said. "It wouldn't be the same without him."
"Yeah, imagine going a whole day without seeing Brian. How did we ever survive without him?" Gerard questioned as he slid the guitar in underneath a seat.
"I think the lady doth protest too much," Bob said.
Frank did his best to cover his giggle behind his hand, but Gerard still heard it and glared.
"And I think the douche bag doth need to mind his own fucking business," he retorted.
*
By the time they arrived at the party, there were already cars parked halfway down the block. It took a while for them to find a place where they could drag all their stuff into the house. When everything was safely inside, Gerard found the kitchen and the keg flowing in the middle of the room.
The kid filling his cup was wearing the bottom half of a bear suit, with the head resting on the counter behind him. His smile looked big enough to eat his entire face, which was kind of a cool image, actually.
"Thanks," Gerard said when he got his red plastic cup full of beer.
"Sure. I'm Pete, by the way," the guy said. "I don't think I know you."
"Oh, um, Gerard," he answered. "Bob's friend?"
"Are you in the band?" Pete asked, shuffling closer to Gerard with his fat, fake fur-covered legs.
Gerard took a cautious step backwards. "Singer," he confirmed.
"Oh, awesome, you have to meet...hang on." Reaching out with a quickness belied by his costume, he grabbed onto the shoulder of another guy, shorter and wearing a Fedora that Gerard assumed was his costume, pulling him into their conversation. "Patrick, this is Gerard, he's in Bob's band. Gerard, this is Patrick Vaugh Stumph, both h's silent."
"Um..." Gerard said at a loss when faced with Pete's exuberance. "Hi?"
Patrick took it in stride, though, just rolling his eyes. "Hey. Patrick. This is my house; thanks for agreeing to play."
"No problem, you're doing us a favor, man, really. We've never played in front of an audience before." Gerard didn't register that maybe that wasn't the best thing to admit to the guy until it was already out of his mouth. "I mean, we practice and stuff, so it's not like..."
"It's cool," Patrick said, waving away Gerard's attempts to backpedal. "We've got a band too, actually, but I didn't want to play at my own party, you know."
Just then, Mikey appeared at his elbow, scowl fixed in place. "Gee, dude, come help us set up."
"Sure," he said, turning to go before Pete's pointed cough made him pause. "Oh, this is my brother, Mikey. He's in our band too. Mikey: Pete and Patrick. This is Patrick's place."
"Hey," Mikey greeted.
"Hi, your hair is amazing," Pete gushed. His own was worn in typical emo side-part fashion.
Mikey smoothed a hand down the point of his hair and looked at Pete suspiciously before deciding that he was being serious. "Thanks."
Patrick looked disbelieving at Pete's pronouncement. Gerard couldn't blame him. He was no expert on hair, but Mikey's was pretty ridiculous.
"Come on, before Bob kicks both our asses," Mikey said, bumping his shoulder against Gerard's. "Nice meeting you guys."
"Talk to you later, Mikey!" Pete called.
"That guy's weird," Mikey declared as they walked out of the kitchen. Gerard graciously refrained from pointing out the humor in the fact that even Mikey thought it was weird for someone to compliment his hair. Nobody could say he wasn't a kind older brother.
Sure enough, Bob gave them both the finger as they approached. "Get over here and help us, you lazy fucks."
"Coming, god!" Gerard said, waving his own finger back. He rested his beer on top of an amp and bent down to plug in some cords that Frank was fiddling with.
"Hi, guys."
It was Brian's voice, and Gerard heaved himself off of the floor in a flash and whirled around. Brian was wearing a scuffed leather jacket over a Smiths t-shirt and jeans. He looked good, but that wasn't surprising. Gerard had come to accept that he was doomed to always find Brian hot, even in the school uniforms that didn't manage to flatter anyone else.
What was surprising was that Brian wasn't alone.
"Oh my god," Frank whispered from beside Gerard.
"Hi," Brian said again, grinning, when they'd made their way to where Gerard and the others were standing. "Sorry I'm late, but Jamia didn't have a ride."
No one spoke for a moment, until Ray choked out, "Don't worry about it." It sounded a lot like he was holding back his laughter.
"I was telling her about how I'm probably going straight over to Gerard and Mikey's after the party, so she'd have to find another way home."
"I have a car," Frank said quickly, not missing the opportunity. "I could drive you home, if you wanted."
"Thanks," Jamia said with a small grin. "Isn't it your birthday today?"
"Yeah," Frank answered. The expression on his face was so completely gobsmacked that Gerard had to hold in his own inappropriate snickers.
"Happy birthday," she said. "Wow, you must really love Halloween, then, huh?"
"It's my favorite," Frank croaked.
"I bet," Jamia responded. "Hey, I'm gonna go get something to drink. Does anyone want anything?" When they all shook their heads, she started making her way through the crush of people to the kitchen.
"Oh my god," Frank repeated when she was out of earshot, then looked down at himself and back up at them in despair. "I'm dressed as Frankenstein."
"It's Halloween," Bob said, giving him a rough pat on the back.
"There's something else," Brian said. "A friend of mine back in Indianapolis, she knows some people here, and she was able to get you guys a couple hours in a recording studio that's like twenty minutes away."
"Seriously?" Ray asked, his eyes wide. Gerard imagined that his own face looked much the same.
"It's not much, but I figured you guys could record a couple of songs, maybe put together a demo or something." Brian was speaking to all of them, but he was looking straight at Gerard.
"That's...incredible," Gerard said. His heart was beating wildly against his ribcage, and it felt like he couldn't breathe.
"Yeah?" Brian asked, a hopeful smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
"Yeah," Gerard confirmed. They stood there grinning at each other a moment, until Frank ruined it by throwing himself onto Brian in an aggressive hug.
"I love you, Schechter!" he cried. "Those are the best birthday gifts ever!"
"You should be our manager or something," Mikey said.
Brian laughed and returned the hug. "You're welcome, but I didn't do much. I mean, I called my friend, but Jamia likes you, she told me. All I did was give her a ride."
"No shit, she said that?" Frank asked, sounding awed.
"She did," Brian confirmed. "So go find her, moron."
Frank didn't need to be told twice. He dashed off into the crowd, quickly blending into the sea of people.
"How much longer do we have?" Gerard asked.
"Patrick said we should start at eleven," Bob said. "That's like twenty minutes."
"I'm gonna go outside and have a cigarette before you guys go on," Brian said.
"I'll come with you," Gerard said quickly, before he could think about it, and ignoring Bob's huff of annoyance at once again getting out of setting up.
Gerard followed Brian through the house and out a backdoor that led to a porch with an empty picnic table, some plastic chairs and wooden swing. The music muffled when Gerard pulled closed the wooden door behind them. Brian made a beeline for the porch swing at the end of the deck and gestured for Gerard to join him with one hand as he fished out his cigarettes with the other. Gerard sat down next to him, trying not to freak out too much at the way their thighs touched. From the corner of his eye, he saw the brief flare of the lighter, then Brian passed him the newly lit cigarette before lighting another one for himself.
"Thanks," Gerard said.
"Sure," Brian answered.
"And thanks for calling your friend about getting us that studio time. That was nice of you," Gerard added.
"I think you guys will make a good demo," Brian said.
Gerard rocked the swing a bit as he mused. "We could put 'Helena' on it, and 'Vampires' and 'Headfirst For Halos.' We might be able to talk Bob into doing 'Sorrows.' I've been working on a couple more too. One I'm calling 'I'm Not Okay' and then maybe 'Here's To The Venom' or 'Thanks For The Venom' or something else. I don't know, I have to talk it out with Ray."
"Is 'I'm Not Okay' the one you two were messing around with on Wednesday?"
"Yeah," Gerard said, taking a long drag from his cigarette.
"I liked that one."
"It's still rough," Gerard said, "but it's coming along, mostly because of Ray."
"Gotta love Ray," Brian said. His cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth, and his dark hair was disheveled - not in the carefully created look Mikey had, but like he'd spent too much time running his fingers through it. He was pretty much the best thing Gerard had ever seen, and for one second, he wished he had a paper and pencil to try and draw him. Brian used his legs to rock the swing a bit, slanting a grin at Gerard and then doing a double take when he saw Gerard staring. "What's wrong?"
Gerard shook his head. "Nothing, just...you're an all right guy, Schechter. Did you know that?" He wrapped his hand around the chain on his side of the swing and looked up at the clear, dark sky.
Brian huffed a laugh beside him. "An all right guy. I did know that, actually. Glad you've finally seen it, though."
Gerard turned to look at Brian, feeling honest and maybe a little brave. "That first day of history class..."
"Oh god, would you let it go already?" Brian interrupted. "How many times do I have to apologize?"
"No, I wasn't going to..." Gerard struggled with the words in his head, trying to get them right. "I wanted you to sit next to me that day, that's why I was so mad. I wanted you to like me, and I thought you didn't."
Brian ran his fingers through his hair and made an agonized noise. "Gerard," he groaned before surging forward and kissing him with enough force to push Gerard back against the armrest and rock the swing precariously.
Gerard had the presence of mind to drop his cigarette on the ground, and then he wrapped that arm around Brian's shoulders and kissed back, hoping it wasn't too obvious that it was his first time. After a moment, Brian pulled away, panting, and looked down at Gerard.
"I do like you," he said.
"I know," Gerard said, breathless. "You're okay too."
Brian smiled and put his hand on Gerard's jaw, tilting his chin up and bending down to kiss him again. It was even better that time - with Brian's hand and his lips, the smooth metal of his lip ring and the way that his smaller, more compact body fit against Gerard's - so much better that Gerard stopped trying so hard, stopped thinking altogether, and just went with it.
"Hey, Romeo and Juliet, now that I'm scarred for life, do you think you two could stop sucking face so that we could play our fucking set?"
Gerard gave Bob the finger over the side of the swing while Brian tucked his face against Gerard's shoulder and laughed.
"Seriously, three minutes," he called. The door swung shut, and Gerard felt embarrassed for a second before Bob's words registered, and then all he felt was sheer terror.
"I think I'm going to throw up," he said.
"Always what someone wants to hear after they've just..."
"Shut up, you know what I mean," Gerard said, pushing on Brian's shoulder to get out from under him. He tried standing up, and yeah, no. He managed to make it to the garage before hurling all over the grass.
Brian came up behind him and rubbed a soothing hand over his back. Gerard was sure that would embarrass him later, when his hands stopped shaking.
"You're gonna do great, Gerard. You know these songs backwards and forwards."
"Everyone's gonna hate them," he said, feeling, suddenly, a bone-deep certainty of that fact. "They're gonna throw tomatoes and shit like in the movies or at The Apollo."
"Gerard," Brian said, and he could hear the amusement coming through, even though there was nothing fucking funny about this. "Everyone's so drunk, you could be playing the ukelele and singing sea shanties, and they would love it. Now come on, the guys are waiting."
Gerard straightened up and turned to look fearfully at the house. "Okay, let's go." Brian gestured forward and Gerard made his way back in the house. "I can't believe I threw up when..." He glanced back at the swing.
"You can make it up to me," Brian said. "After you brush your teeth."
Gerard rolled his eyes at Brian, but let him hold open the door and guide Gerard into the house with a warm hand pressed against his back.
*
Epilogue
Gerard crossed the bridge over the stream. Brian walked behind him with one finger crooked around the belt loop of Gerard's slacks.
"I'll miss this bridge," Gerard said.
"No, you won't," Brian laughed.
Gerard looked around, at the orchids and the stupid, colorful fish in the stream and the evenly cut grass, and had to agree. "No, I won't. What was I thinking?"
"The last day of school makes everyone nostalgic, even you," Brian said. "Watch, next you'll be signing yearbooks left and right. K.I.T."
"Fuck off, I'd kill myself first," Gerard said. "Hey."
"Gee, you need to be the voice of reason," Bob said by way of greeting, "and tell this stupid fuck that we should listen to Powerslave instead of fucking Walk Among Us."
"What do you have against the Misfits, Bob?" Frank asked, waving the CD enticingly. "What have they ever done to you?"
"Made shitty music," Bob answered. "Gee?"
Gerard raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not getting in the middle of this argument. It does seem like an Iron Maiden day, though."
"Ha!" Bob said. "Three to one, bitch."
"If we're voting, I pick the Misfits," Brian piped up.
"That's why you're so fucking awesome, Schechter," Frank beamed. "I always liked you. Now where's my best friend, Mikeyway? He'll be on my side."
"He said he had something to do before school, probably with his World History group," Gerard answered, though just the mention of his brother brought back all the worries that had been plaguing Gerard for weeks. Though he was fucking ecstatic about leaving this place and heading to New York with Brian and Bob, he couldn't help worrying about Mikey and Frank, stuck there for another two years. He reminded himself that all the biggest assholes were graduating with him, which should make things a lot easier for them, and that they still had Jamia to hang out with next year. Plus, it wasn't like Gerard and Mikey were never going to see each other. They planned to buy a car with the money they earned over the summer so that Gerard could drive back for band practices and weekends.
"That means I win," Bob said. "Toro, put that shit on."
"I still think that my count should be worth more anyway," Ray grumbled as he changed the CDs. "Since it's my radio."
"You got what you wanted," Frank said. He sat crosslegged on the dirt, his back against their tree. Frank's tree. It wouldn't be Gerard's after today. "Why are you bitching?"
"I'm just saying that I never saw any of you fuckers buying batteries for it," Ray muttered under his breath.
"What time are we meeting tonight?" Brian asked.
"The guy I talked to said we should get there at six to help set up, so I thought we could meet at Frank's at five-thirty," Ray said.
Gerard felt a nervous twist inside his stomach at the mention of that night. Brian had used their six-track demo to get them a real headlining gig. It was at the community center, and the openers were three high school bands even shittier than them, but still. Gerard convinced the other guys to wear the uniforms he came up with, and they all looked bad ass. He'd even designed fliers for the event, and they'd wallpapered their respective neighborhoods with them.
"How much time do we have until the bell?" Gerard asked, contemplating his half-finished cigarette and wondering if he could get in another.
"Ten minutes," Ray said. Then he reached out and patted the tree fondly. Gerard knew how he felt.
*
Gerard couldn't say there was any twinge of nostalgia when he walked into history. He sat down next to Brian and gave a long-suffering sigh.
"Not gonna miss this, huh?" Brian asked knowingly.
"Not even a little," Gerard responded. "The only good thing about it was you, and I'm going to be stuck with you all summer."
"Speaking of that, I bought our plane tickets for Indiana. We leave July 22nd."
"Cool," Gerard said. He was spending a week in Indiana with Brian, meeting all his friends and the rest of his family. Mostly, he tried not to think about it. He had to get through the gig that night and finding a summer job before he'd let himself worry about that.
"They're going to like you," Brian said, as if sensing Gerard's nervousness. Gerard didn't respond, just threw a disbelieving look his way. "They will, asshole."
"I guess we'll find out," Gerard said as the bell rang.
The talking in the class quieted to whispers as they waited for the morning announcements to start. After a moment, the intercom crackled to life, and a tinny voice came through.
"So. Um."
Gerard's head whipped up to the speaker, because tinny or not, he'd recognize his brother's voice anywhere.
"I'm interrupting your regular morning announcements to say that my band, My Chemical Romance, is playing tonight at seven o'clock at the Field's Community Center, and you should come. This is one of our songs called 'I'm Not Okay.'" There was a long pause, and Gerard could hear the sound of banging in the background, like someone was trying to get in a door, and then a throat clearing. Mikey said, "Oh, um, by the way, this is Mikey Way."
He sounded so awkward and Mikey-like that Gerard croaked out a laugh despite his shock. He turned wide eyes to Brian, who looked just as surprised as he felt. "Holy fuck," he breathed, as the first strains of the song kicked in.
*
As soon as school was over, Gerard ran down to the principal's office. Mikey was sitting outside, and he could see his parents inside talking to Mr. Havisham.
"Holy fuck, Mikes!" he cried when he saw him.
Mikey looked up and grinned.
"What are they going to do to you?" Gerard asked.
Mikey shrugged. "They were talking about mom and dad making a 'charitable donation' to the school before they made me leave the room."
Gerard sighed. That killed the plan to save money for a car. His parents were going to make Mikey pay back every cent that they had to donate to keep him in school. "Of course," he said. "They wouldn't kick you out anyway, not when we're paying full tuition."
"Don't think I'm gonna get to be office aid next year though," Mikey said. He took a puff from his inhaler as Gerard laughed.
"You could say it was my idea," he offered. "That I put you up to it."
"And let you take all the credit for this?" Mikey asked. "No way."
"I can't believe you did it," Gerard said incredulously, sitting in a folding chair next to Mikey. "You're fucking crazy."
"You said you wanted to get the word out," Mikey pointed out. "And who knows, maybe if people find out that we're in a band, they won't give me and Frank such a hard time next year."
Gerard flinched at the reminder of his own concerns. "Now that I won't be here anymore, I bet we could convince mom and dad to let you go to Hudson instead of this shithole."
Mikey stayed silent a moment before shaking his head. "Nah. I mean, what about Frank? I couldn't leave him. And I was hanging out with Jamia and some of her friends - Alicia, Sarah and that guy Matt? They like comic books and horror movies and stuff. They seemed all right. Actually, they were talking about taking a road trip to Comic Con this year."
"Oh yeah?" Gerard asked. He knew Jamia was cool, but he hadn't gotten to know her friends.
"Yeah, you and Brian should come, if you aren't in Indiana."
"I'll talk to him about it," Gerard said. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, until Gerard thought of something that made him smile. "Man, Helena would have loved this."
Mikey grinned back at him, but didn't get a chance to respond, because it was at that moment that their parents came out of the office. His mother narrowed her eyes when she saw Gerard.
"I had nothing to do with it!" Gerard said.
"You always have something to do with it," she responded. "What am I, a fucking idiot? Both of you, let's go."
"Seriously, this time it was all Mikey. I didn't even know about it!"
She rolled her eyes. "If there's one thing I've learned after putting up with you two for sixteen years, it's that you're a matched pair. You're just lucky we're letting you play in that show tonight. Get in the car, and we can start talking about repayment plans."
Mikey stared at her and pitifully took a puff from his inhaler.
"Oh, do not play me, Michael James Way," she warned.
"Worth a try," Mikey whispered. Gerard laughed and swung an arm around his brother's shoulders as he walked out of Amcrest for the last time.