Frank's POV :

I had been thinking about going to that school counselor for the whole week.

"Why, though?" Ray had asked me when I had told him about it.

I couldn't tell him why - that was private, not to mention a little bit embarrassing. That was also precisely why I should go to the school counselor.

I mean, Ray is super dupper nice but I don't need the whole school to know I've got issues. These aren't real issues anyway, it's no big deal. But still, talking about it would make me feel a little better.

Anyway, the whole point of school counselors is basically to hear kids like me rant. Besides, what's the worst that could happen, huh? People are good.

And that's how my thoughts urged my feet to lead me to the school counselor's office. After having tugged a little on my shorts and combed my hair with my fingers, I raised my fist and hesitantly knocked on the door. I was expecting a 'come in' but instead, the door opened, startling me a little.

"Hi," I heard and looked up. Two hazel eyes that weren't foreign to me locked with mine.

"Oh! I know you !"
The nice man from last week!

The man laughed and frowned amusedly. "I know you too. Frank Iero, isn't it?"

I nodded enthusiastically, truly flattered that he remembered my name. He invited me in; I followed his steps.

There were two armchairs near a window, a wooden desk at the bottom, some box that kind of looked like a mini fridge, a small couch and a big plant next to the door. The floor and walls were a light, soothing grey. It was warm and quite sunny in there.

"That's a really nice office you've got there, Sir ! I like the plant, and your suit." I commented trivially.

"Thank you. I do like the ambiance here too. It's more comfortable than the rest of the school, I think. When I was your age, I always found the classrooms gloomy and uncomfortable. Anyway, I'm Mr. Way. Please take a seat."

I was about to sit across his desk when I heard him tut behind me.

"Nuh-uh, come here." Mr. Way pointed at one of the two armchairs and I sat there.
"The only reason why I would hide behind a desk to talk to someone is if I made a mistake and the principal came here to scold me," he chuckled while taking a bottle in the fridge and pouring its content in a glass.

Mr. Way handed me the glass. "Apple juice. Go ahead, I want you to feel comfortable here."

"Oh? Thank you, Mr. Way !"

"You're welcome. Oh, and you can call me Gerard." he said as he sat down.

"I, uh... I don't wanna. I'd rather call you Mr. Way," I stated before drinking my apple juice. I almost moaned - it had been so long since I last tasted apple juice and I loved it !

Mr. Way smiled, more intrigued than vexed. "Why is that so?"

There was a little silence while I was sipping my juice. Mr. Way and I made eye contact and I felt shivers run down my spine. His gaze was particularly penetrating, and the persistent feeling that he could somehow read my soul intimidated me.

"That's kind of rude though, isn't it... And respect is very important," I insisted.

"I agree with you on that point, but calling someone by their name - when they invite you to it - is actually just as polite. It's a symbol of proximity or cordiality. If that helps, consider this a favor you do to the person you're talking to."

"G-Gerard?... I'd still prefer to call you Mr. Way. I-If you don't mind," I said and Mr. Way nodded.

It would feel too weird ; when I call grown men, it's usually 'Mister', 'Sir', or 'Daddy'.

"I do not mind in the slightest. After all, you do whatever you are most at ease with; no one is going to blame you for calling them 'Sir'." Mr. Way chuckled. "I just thought that it would have made the both of us more comfortable."

"Yeah, I mean, it'd be cool if we could call all the adults by their first names," I giggled before savoring my juice. "But it feels weird."

"I tend to agree. So, Mr. Way it is. Anyway, what brings you here, Frank? Although I'm starting to understand how much of a little gentleman you can be, I believe you must have something you want to talk about with me. Forst, how is school?" Gerard steepled his hands in between his legs.

"School is awesome !" I exclaimed and Mr. Way rose an amused, albeit surprised eyebrow. "I made a friend and I understand the lessons pretty well." I swelled with pride a little.

"Mhm, I'm not surprised, you seem like a smart kid. Very bright, too."

I giggled and blushed at so many compliments. First, he called me a little gentleman, then he called me smart and bright! Whoa!

"So, what's the matter?"

"Oh, um... It's about my parents." I smiled shyly.

"What about them?" Mr. Way inquired, seemingly worried, all of a sudden.

"Oh uh, it's no big deal. I just think they don't love me very much." I pouted down at my empty glass of juice.

What I was saying was just as sad as that : an empty glass of juice.

"Frank, thinking that your parents don't love you is not okay. Parents are to provide a safe place for their children and must make sure that they are loved. Tell me what makes you think that."

"It's not really that I think they don't love me. It's just... They set the bar too high. And..." I kicked my feet back and forth awkwardly, thinking of how to put it.
"When school is over, they want me to come home directly. I can't spend time with my friends after school. I can't bring anyone home so I never get any invitations and I end up losing a lot of friends. I'm feeling kind of isolated."

Mr. Way frowned. "Keep going, please. This is a safe place; I won't judge you. I am here to help."

"My mom chooses my clothes and I wish she didn't. I wanna wear sweaters like all the kids my age. My bedtime is 9:30, so I don't have much free time. On weekends I can only watch TV for 1 hour if all my homework is done. I just think they're a little too strict and I don't think it's improving."

Mr. Way sternly listened to everything I was telling him. I could see the cogs work in his head.

"They expect me to behave like an adult, yet they treat me like a child. And I would prefer if things were the exact opposite." I summarized. "They trust me to be the best everywhere, but what if I can't?"

Mr. Way sighed. "That is not the question, Frank. You can't ask a child to grow up so fast. You should talk to them about how you feel, confront them - calmly. Tell them what's wrong."

"B-but it's not as bad as it sounds !" I reassured him.

"Frank. It is as bad as it sounds." Gerard stated gravely.

Frank shrugged. "Does it matter, if I'm happy?"

"I guess not. But if this doesn't change, will you always be?"

Mr. Way pierced me with his hazel gaze and my smile faded away. I hadn't thought of that. I mean, I can surely take it, but for how long?

I got lost in my thoughts and my gaze wandered, landing on the window. I saw the huge chestnut trees outside and the kids running under them - all of that coated in sweet golden light by the warm afternoon sun.

"That's a beautiful world we live in," I uttered thoughtfully, almost helplessly. A grin appeared on my face.

When I looked back at Mr. Way, I saw he was smiling at me.
"It is indeed." He nodded.

And the the both of us looked one last time at the blue sky before the bell rang.

"Well, our time is up." Mr. Way stood up. "It was nice talking to you, Frank. Come back whenever you want ; you can tell me how it went with your parents."
I nodded and headed for the door.

"Frank."

I turned around.

"Your glass." Mr. Way said.

"My-" I looked down. "Oh, sorry." I giggled, handing him the empty glass I had almost taken out with me. "Thank you, Mr. Way !" I exclaimed before leaving.

I bounced in the hallway until a couple of older guys - probably in 8th grade or something - called me.

"Hey kid, can you help us out?" one asked.

"Sure, I'd be glad to help !"

"Well, I dropped my books, and since you're much closer to the ground, you could pick them up for me." the boy asked and his friend snickered, for some reason.

"Yeah, no problem."

I bent down to pick up the guy's books, at the bottom of the lockers. "You know, if you're not comfortable with your height, you can talk about it to a friend of mine, Mr. W- Ah!"

Someone pushed my back as I was crouching. I fell and my head hit the metallic lockers. "Ow..."

I sat down, rubbing my head confusedly as the two guys ran away laughing. Why would they do something like that?

I shrugged it off and packed all my stuff. I left the school, singing out loud the pretty song we had been learning in music class. I didn't know all the lyrics, so I just replaced the parts I didn't know with 'lalala'.

"LalalaLALAAA- Good evening, Mr. Peterson !" I waved at my eternal neighbor.

I arrived home, and realized that it was time to talk to my parents. Oh boy.

•••
Knock knock.
"Come in."

I opened Mr. Way's office door and came in as instructed.
"Good morning, Mr. Way !" I chanted.

"Hello, Frank. What brings you here so early?" Mr. Way smiled, standing up from his desk.

"Oh, uh... I drew this for you." I blushed, handing him a drawing of a puppy.

"Aww, how sweet of you, boy. I really like drawing, you know? So receiving art is always a pleasure." Gerard smiled warmly and my insides fluttered at the thought that he liked my gift so much. "Thank you Frank, I'll keep it at home, I promise. Please take a seat. Do you want some juice?"

"A-apple juice, yes please." I set my schoolbag on the floor and shuffled slowly to my assigned armchair.

Mr. Way chuckled. "I'll start believing that it's the only reason you come here."

"What? N-no, I swear !" I gasped.

Mr. Way laughed. "I know, Frank. I was just joking."

"Oh..." I paused, the cogs inside my head turned and I giggled.

"So." Mr. Way handed me the beverage. "Did you talk to your parents?"

"I didn't," I admitted. "But I told them I went to a school counselor and they got mad. They say I don't need you. But I think they are wrong."

Mr. Way chewed at his bottom lip. "Alright. Take the time you need. But you'll have to talk to them eventually."

I nodded. I can do this! I-I think.
I hope.

______