About two hours later, the boys were dismissed for a lunch break, and Frank, being the rebel he was, lit a cigarette with his trusty lighter and invited himself to one of the tables.
"You know you'll get detention for smoking," the Brendon kid warned, taking a seat across from the brave eighteen year old who dared to back talk Mr. Way.
Frank just stared at him through the thick lenses of his sunglasses.
"Think I care?" Frank asked, taking a long, defiant, drag from the cigarette.
"No. Not really."
"You guessed right."
"You're uh, new around here, aren't you?" Brendon tore the plastic wrap from his sandwich and tosses it on his orange tray.
"Yeah, I am. My parents are trying to control me by sending me here. I hate them. But, I'll be graduating school next year, so then I can do what I want."
"And what is it you wanna do?"
"With my life? Not much, but I do know I'm going to be a guitar player. I'll smoke all the cigarettes I want, maybe start a band, and before the school year's up, kiss a certain teacher."
Brendon's eyes widened, his pupils were like, almost as wide as his forehead. But Frank, although he didn't care much about honesty, knew quite a bit about modesty. So he kept his comments to himself.
"You...you like Mr. Way?! No way!"
"Shhh! I didn't say Mr. Way-- I said 'a certain teacher,' and even if it was Mr. Way, it's not like I'd tell you. "
Frank wasn't hungry anymore and pushed his tray away. There wasn't room for food what with all the butterflies clambering around in his stomach. He could not fathom he just openly admitted to liking a teacher . And this Brendon Urine--or whatever his name was--had nearly gotten a confession:
Yes, okay. I'll admit it. I'm in love with Mr. Way. And his hands, and his maniacal but adorable grin, those tight pants, his obliviousness of tying neckties, the way his hips swayed when he walked, and those stupidly gorgeous hazel eyes that could see right through you.
Frank didn't say any of that. He was too macho for that. He wasn't in love with a teacher. Or a man. He wasn't gay. He fricking couldn't be gay. Frank Iero and gay weren't ever supposed to be said in the same sentence. But then that Mr. Way showed up. He figuratively grabbed Frank by the throat whilst bedazzling him with his entire being and dragged him into a pit of rainbows and glitter and shit.
That Mr. Way hypnotized Frank into being exactly what his father despised; not only was Mr. Iero's son rebellious, he was gay.
But, Frank didn't like his father, and wasn't complaining about the thought of Mr. Way's tongue in his mouth.
At this realization, Frank didn't care who knew he had a thing for the school master who'd seen him in his underwear. Honestly, he might as well grab a megaphone and announce it to the entire world.
"Can you keep a secret?" Frank whispered, suspiciously eyeing the courtyard for any signs of eavesdroppers.
"Yeah, sure. What type of secret? Like I just killed someone and hid the body under my bed secret? Or I left the bathroom without washing my hands secret?"
Frank rolled his eyes, "no, not like that. Like...I like guys kinda secret." He held his breath until Brendon spoke again, which was after he finished the last bite of his apple and tossed the core over his shoulder.
"Oh," he chuckled slyly, "that kind of secret," he leaned in closer, shielding the corner of his mouth and speaking in a hushed tone, "I like guys, too."
Frank finally let out the breath he'd been holding, perfect timing too, cause he was about pass out from the lack of oxygen.