Sister, I'm Not Much a Poet but a Criminal

As the realization dawned on me, I felt like I was going to be sick. How could I do something like this?

I got up and motioned to Frank that I was going out for a smoke. He nodded and got up to follow me. I could feel Ray watching, but I couldn't look at him. I hurried off the bus and tried to steady myself with a few large breaths of fresh air. Somehow it made me dizzy, and I leaned against the side of the bus. I lit my cigarrette with a shaky hand, and I could feel Frank come up beside me. He borrowed my lighter, saying nothing. I couldn't take the silence.

"What have I done?" My voice came out in a strained croak.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not dumb, Frankie."

"What are you talking about? Who said you were dumb?"

I looked into his eyes, fighting the desire to lose myself in them.

"What do you call what just happened in there when Ray walked in? Please don't tell me that everyone is taking sides in this stupid thing."

"Not everyone. Just me and Ray. Everyone else has chosen to remain neutral."

"Still, I don't want to be the cause of a fight between you two."

"I had to defend you, and he had to defend Ariella. There's no way to avoid this, Molly. Don't blame yourself for it."

"How can I not? You're sacrificing a friendship that's lasted for years for some stupid girl you just met a few weeks ago. In what world is that sane behaviour?"

"You're not just some stupid girl. Don't ever kid yourself, you're not like anyone else."

"It doesn't matter if I'm different than other girls. The point is, you're doing way too much for me."

"Would you rather I didn't do anything? That I didn't even show that I cared?"

I blew out a cloud of smoke, not knowing whether to yell or cry. "Of course not. Nobody wants to think they're not cared for. I went through most of my life thinking that. I'd hate to go back to the way it was before you," my voice was quiet.

"If you'll just let me help, you'll never have to go back to it."

"I don't think I've got much choice anymore. I got us into this, but we've both got to find a way out. I won't let you compromise in any way when it comes to the band. We both know that without them, you'd hate life. Sure, you'd find another band, but it would never really be the same. I'd always blame myself for that. So would every fan you've got. To be honest, I don't want to be hated by a large portion of the world."

He took a drag of his cigarrette and rubbed his hand up and down my back.

"I always tell you that you worry too much," he sighed.

"And yet I continue to worry. It's my turn to help, remember?"

He laughed. "Yeah, okay. You can help me for once."

"Good. It's better that you just agreed now, because this time I wouldn't have let it go so easily."

"You don't let anything go easily."

"Then imagine how hard it will be if you ever want to get rid of me."

"Yeah, right, like that'll happen."

I hadn't been worried about my relationship with Frank, but it was always nice to hear the reassurance. I tried to focus on that thought as opposed to the guilt that was eating away at my insides. I was glad that Gerard, Mikey, and Bob hadn't gotten involved, but it was killing me that Ray and Frank were fighting. All the other times I'd seen them fight, it was a joke. They had actually gotten in a play fight over the last chocolate bar. The thought of them, only moments before, not speaking was almost too much to bear. Both of them could be stubborn, so I knew that their feud would last as long as mine and Ariella's would. Unfortunately, we were both very stubborn, too. There was no end in sight.

When we got back onto the bus, everyone was awake. I avoided looking even in the general direction of Ray and Ariella, as did Frank. The other guys were obviously torn, and I hated that they were caught in the middle. Nobody spoke, and I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not that there was no concert that night. On one hand, I didn't have to be away from Frank. On the other hand, Frank and Ray couldn't channel their anger through their music.

At around three that afternoon, Frank took me to the studio at the back of the bus. I hadn't yet been back here, and I was amazed at how professional it was. We sat on two chairs that had been put close together.

"How are you doing?" he asked, his eyes penetrating mine.

"I've been better. How about you?"

"Same answer. I can't believe how wierd it is up there."

I nodded my agreement, and once again the feeling that I was going to be sick washed over me.

"Are you sure you're okay? You're really pale all of a sudden," he commented.

"I'll be okay. I just can't shake the feeling that it's all my fault."

"Stop blaming yourself. It's not your fault. Ariella started it."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't let it go. Was it worth it?"

"Only you can answer that one, babe."

I sat there for a long time, wondering if it really was worth it. I didn't draw any new conclusions, and I looked at Frank, feeling defeated.

"I really don't know."

"I didn't say you had to answer it now. Give yourself some time."

I nodded slowly. Something told me that I could take all the time in the world, and I still wouldn't have an answer.