24&29

“WHERE THE HELL ARE WE?” I screamed.

To say that Frank was tense is an understatement. He held the student handbook in his hands. Hey, it actually wound up being helpful; a map of the campus was in it. We studied every inch, every centimeter of the map and we still hadn’t arrived in McKinley Place. Like, we had absolutely no idea where we were. I looked around to find a sign – anything that would tell us where we were. I found out we were in Murray Circle, so Frank and I turned the map upside-down and inside-out just looking for it, and it wasn’t on the map at all.

I suddenly felt a burning hatred for the student handbook all over again.

“Murray Circle, Murray Circle, Murray Circle – it doesn’t say Murray Circle anywhere here!” Frank was panicking. He held the map right in front of his face, probably trying to see if ‘Murray Circle’ was written in an extremely small font.

“Don’t panic, Frankie,” I said, rubbing his back, my eyes darting around our surroundings. Murray Circle was filled with guys who looked like college students.

Frank was breathing heavily. “Y’know,” he said, his voice emitting hysteria, “I had a really bad experience with getting lost when I was a kid. So if I have a nervous breakdown, you can tell the nurses that I just remembered something.”

I rolled my eyes. First, he cries because our room was amazing. And then he tells me that he’s going to faint because we had no clue about where we were. “Drama queen,” I muttered. “C’mon, Frankie, we can do this,” I assured him. “Besides, the nurses would check you in the psyche ward instead if they knew the reason to your nervous breakdown was because you remembered something,” I told him matter-of-factly.

He glared at me. “Well then, tell them I fainted because I’m claustrophobic,” he hissed. “Why don’t we just ask directions? Look at these people! They all know how to get to McKinley Place!” He started for a tall guy with gelled brown hair and teeth problems. “Hey, you, do you know–”

I pulled Frank’s elbow and yanked him backwards harshly.

“Ow!” he yelped, rubbing his elbow. He rubbed it and glared at me with all the anger he could muster.

“You don’t go around a snobby all-boys private school asking for directions!” I hissed.

“Right, and you would know because your family has all the money in the world and you’ve been studying in a private boarding school all your fucking life,” he spat angrily.

I could only stare back at him wordlessly. He took deep breaths, trying to compose himself, but he couldn’t. I thought he would start hyperventilating. I couldn’t look at him anymore. I kept my eyes on the floor, careful not to look at anything else. Especially his eyes. Especially those hazel orbs that drilled holes into my forehead with his fury alone.

Next thing I knew I was being squished by someone shorter than me. Yet again, I could only stare at the top of Franks’ head wordlessly. I, uh, didn’t know what to do at all so I awkwardly wrapped my arms around him and patted his back. I ignored the gaping stares we received from onlookers.

“I’m sorry, Mikey!” Frank apologized, his voice ringing with sincerity. “I didn’t mean to – really, I didn’t.”

“It’s… it’s alright, Frankie.” I didn’t know what to say. He had nothing to be sorry for, but I felt compelled to forgive him. He had that effect on people. He could manipulate minds.

And he could confuse the hell out of people, too.

“Y’know…” I chuckled. “I know how to handle shit, Frankie. You don’t have to be sensitive all the time.” He looked up at me, eyes swimming with questions. “Like this,” I said, gesturing to the hug. “This is… unnecessary? Uncalled for?” I couldn’t find the right word. I laughed at my failure.

“Unwanted?” Frank suggested with a smile. I knew he understood.

“Nah, that isn’t it.”

He laughed as he unwound his arms from my waist. “I’m sorry. I grew up in the company of a mother and a little sister who’s six. You get used to hugs.” Frank had a lot of stories. On the way to Murray Circle, he told me about his old school, his life as a working student. I never got tired of hearing them. He was a storybook but not a fairy tale – unbelievable yet true.

I smiled at him. “Yeah, I understand. My mom’s always trying to get me and Gerard to hug her.”

Frank’s eyes gleamed with sincere curiosity. “Gerard?” he inquired.

So I told him my own story as we aimlessly walked to wherever our feet took us. The thought of our uniforms barely crossed our minds as we explored the campus. Soon we passed by a sign that read ‘Quincy Block’, but it didn’t process in my mind until I saw a kid wearing a St. Dom’s uniform (although, honestly, I didn’t know why he did, since classes started tomorrow. Oh well. He probably didn’t get the memo.). Frank was rambling about the weirdest customers he’d ever encountered when he was working in 7-Eleven, but I wasn’t really listening. I took three long strides backwards and Frank looked at me really weirdly. Like, the way he looked at me a while ago in the front desk, when I was messing with Velvet Hawkins.

“What… are you doing?” he asked, turning to look at me.

I looked up at the sign and pointed at it with a victorious grin. “Doesn’t that sound familiar to you?” I asked.

Frank walked to where I was and stood beside me. He looked up. “‘Quincy Road’,” he read aloud. His face lit up. He immediately fished out his student handbook from his messenger bag. He flipped to the page where the map was. I watched as his eyes traced the line from Quincy Road to McKinley Place. “It’s near, Mikey! It’s near!” he squealed.

I laughed at his childishness.

He cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to squeal,” he said, composing himself.

“Of course you didn’t,” I teased.

He rolled his eyes. “Well, let’s get going, shall we? I’m hungry. I really want lunch.”