Chapter Text
Everybody knew Illi McMillin. It’s hard to miss the only “girl” at an all-boys boarding school, and it’s even harder to miss her when she’s jumping out behind corners, watching you with her big stalkery eyes and rambling to you about whatever new vampire movie’s coming out and how god-awful it is compared to the comic she’s reading. Yeah. Most people knew Illi McMillin. Still, most people didn’t want to.
But one boy did.
It was stupid. Utterly stupid, teenage nonsense. Illi and Frank were friends. They hadn’t been friends long, but definitely long enough for Frank to know that Illi was not your regular girl. She slumped over her sketchbooks in class, pirated old black and white movies on the library computers, and always kept half of her lunch to feed to the stray cat on her walk home. She named it Bela. Frank hated that he knew that.
It wasn’t that he had any problems liking Illi–she was cool. She was a girl. She had pretty dark hair that grew down just above her shoulders and big, brown saucer eyes. She had pale skin and if this weren’t an all-boys school with regulation uniforms Frank would’ve gotten to see more of it. Pervert.
No, he really liked Illi. He really did. With her, he didn’t want to be alone. For the kid who constantly craved space and the blaring quietness of broken guitars and shitty homemade drum kits, he found himself craving the comfort of the girl, the touch of her skin, the quiet, calm ramblings that never seemed to end. He never wanted his time with Illi to end. He never did.
“Helllllo?” She snapped in front of his face. “You even listening?” She giggled, cocking her head. Her legs dangled off the playground, her head tilted just so. The light caught on her hair, and the rays bent just for her, making a halo for the angel.
Frank blinked. “Uh… what?”
She laughed again, smiling. Her smile was crooked. Pretty. “I saiiiiid… What are your plans for Halloween? I wanna go as a zombie or something, but is that too basic? I really need to up my game, now that I’m at this shitty ass school. They need to see a real McMillin costume.”
“Hey, what's that supposed to mean?” Her brother responded. He was slumped over, sitting crossed legged in the tankbark. He was peeling strings of wood off the bark, stopping only to look up at his sister through his thick-rimmed glasses.
“‘Ssssssss’posed to mean that ‘werewolf’ with a torn up shirt isn’t a real costume!”
Frank disagreed, but no way he’d say that. Instead, he smirked and replied, “She’s right.”
“As I always am.” Illi smiled, pleased with herself.
“Bullshit,” Mikey muttered.
“I seriously doubt that,” Ray pipped up from his spot on the play structure, sitting behind Illi on the steps.
“When have I ever been wrong?”
“When you punched Sara Smith instead of Sarah Locklear–”
“When you flunked every single chem test and had to retake–”
“How about the time you said you filled the tank up and we ended up stranded in the middle of the ni–”
“Enough, enough,” the girl interrupted, raising a hand. She smiled shyly, like she wasn’t even pretending to be sorry. “We all make mistakes. Who needs chem anyway?” She shrugged, kicking her legs off the side of the playground.
“You gonna graduate without it?” Ray asked.
“Who cares. What’s it matter?” Illi bristled. “Halloween. Halloween is what matters.”
Mikey stretched out in the tambark. “I think me and some friends are gonna go as cowboys.”
“Cowboys? That is so douchey, man,” Frank replied only to get a shrug in response.
Illi frowned. “So no brother-sister costume? ‘Spose it’s fine. That’s kinda lame at this age anyways,” Illi paused before perking up, the little ends of her mouth lifting in a smile, “If cowboys are so douchey, what are you gonna be, Mr. Bright Guy?”
“Me?” Frank raised his eyebrows and cringed at his voice crack. He should be used to Illi talking to him, calling him names, smiling at him. Goddamnit, they were friends. “Uhhhh… Frankenstein.”
She giggled. She giggled and the heavens opened. She hunched over a little, unable to control the stupid, stupid sounds, making Frank embarrassingly flusterd.
“W-what?”
“Frank-enstein?” She smiled, gently shoving his shoulder, “Dude, that is cheesy!”
“What? Uhhh… N-no. No it isn’t.”
So smooth…
“Uh-huh!” She laughed.
“Nuh-uh!” He floundered for words. “You don’t even have a costume!”
She rolled her eyes, “Yeah. But at least mine isn’t a dumb pun.”
“You could be my bride.”
Her brown eyes widened at the unexpected, sudden words. “Huh?”
“I… You. Could be. Y’know. My bride. Frankenstein’s bride…”
“Oh. My. God.”
Frank cringed, expecting the worst. He could feel Mikey’s seering gaze from under his glasses and Ray’s equally strong but more subtle interest.
“That would be so cool!” She squealed out, breaking the tense silence. “I could have the big hair, and the dress, and oh gosh, the streak of white, and the makeup!”
Frank let out a sigh of relief and ran a hand through his dark hair. He flashed a little smile. “Yeah? You’ll do it?”
“You asking me to marry you, Iero?”
Oh, he was screwed.
“Uh… Yeah.”