Somebody To Love

Most of the day was spent on the phone with Bob for emotional support. He didn’t see what the big deal was, because he was on my mothers good side. Frank could be kicked to the curb with just one wrong glance. Sure, she liked him now, but that could easily change. I mean, she liked Mikey, at first, until he broke my great grandmother’s favorite vase; it was downhill from there.

When I wasn’t the phone with Bob, I was helping mom make vegetable lasagna (as well as the regular kind), because I told her Frank didn’t eat meat. Normally she would complain about making two different dinners. Today she was all smiles about it, which meant something was up, but I didn’t want to grill her on it.

Upstairs in my room, I was trying to strum out some chords on my guitar, when I heard the doorbell ring downstairs. It was only five o’clock. I’d told him dinner wasn’t until six.

I was about to go let him in when I heard my mothers voice downstairs. “Frank! You came early! Oh, well, Raymond is upstairs, you two can play video games until dinner. His room is the last door on the left.”

Within seconds, I heard Frank’s sneakers on the stairs and more butterflies flared in my stomach as I heard him walk down the hall and stop at my door.

“Come in,” I said, before he even had a chance to knock.

He laughed, and came in, taking the spot next to me on the floor, giving me a kiss.

“You came early,” I said pointedly, putting my guitar aside.

“Yeah,” Frank said, pulling at the carpet, “I wanted to see if your mom needed any help, seeing how big your family is, you know.”

I shook my head. “They’re all out tonight. My mom got them out of the house, it’s just the six of us. Besides, you just want to be on my mom’s good side.”

I kissed him. “Don’t worry, you’re on it. For now, at least.”

“Oh?” Frank scoffed, “Just for now? Why? Your mom hates your friends?”

“Pretty much,” I said, picking up my guitar. “Don’t worry about it, though. Nothing is going to break us up. Unless He-Man comes to town, then I think we will be in trouble.”

Frank looked hurt. “You’d dump me for an action figure?”

“What? Not the action figure, the real thing,” I laughed. “I mean, just look at him.” I pulled my savored action figure from under my mattress. “He is pretty ripped.”

“I’m pretty ripped,” Frank suggested. “Just not that ripped – and what is he doing under your mattress? You jack off to him or something?”

I was quiet.

Frank burst into a fit of laughter, playfully shoving me. “You jack off to He-Man! Oh my God!”

I was quick to defend myself, “Oh come on, I bet you jack off to something equally as pathetic.”

Frank wiped a tear from his eye. “No, I don’t.”

I smirked. “Then what do you jack off to?”

Frank grabbed my guitar to change the subject. “Can you teach me how to play Romance?”

I shook my head again. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Teach me how to play Romance, and maybe I’ll tell you.” Frank grinned, sitting between my legs, and leaning against me. I felt the heat of his lips against my cheek. His lower back pressed against my crotch. I decided to try and ignore it, and put my fingers over his, sliding them down the neck of the guitar to the first chord as he pressed himself against me.
His lips now inches away from my neck, I could feel the heat of his breath. Again, I fought off all temptation to just drop the guitar and have my way with him. I continued to play, guiding his fingers along the strings. He moaned softly and bucked his hips, his free hand dragging down my left thigh as his lips made contact with my neck. I had to try hard to remember the song as he lightly sucked and kissed his way to my lips.

I gave up altogether, and dropped the guitar. Frank turned in my lap to straddle me, mashing his lips against mine and wrapping his arms around my neck. He pressed his groin into mine. Hungrily, we exchanged tongues and he pushed me further against the bed as I countered his pressure.

“Raymond! Frank!” It was my mother, calling up the stairs.

“Oh, shit,” I mumbled, pushing Frank off me and getting up. Opening the door, I called down to her. “Yeah, mom?”

“Dinner is ready.”

“So are you going to tell me?” I asked as we both started down the stairs.

Frank laughed, shaking his head. “No. You didn’t teach me Romance.”

I shoved him playfully as we both made our way to the dining room. Once we were seated, my mother came out with the lasagna and dinner began.

“So, what do you do? Do you have a job, son?” My father asked Frank, taking a big piece of lasagna from the meat dish.

Frank squirmed in his seat a little, poking at his small slice on his plate. “I’m in a band. I play guitar and I sing lead. I don’t have a job yet, but I am looking for one.”

Eddie’s head snapped up, and he joined the conversation. “What band?”

“Pencey Prep,” Frank answered.

“I’ve heard you guys,” Eddie said with a nod. “You’re really good.”

Frank blushed slightly, “Thanks.”

“Raymond needs a job,” my mother said, glaring at me then turned to Frank, smiling. “Maybe you two can find one together.”

Louie burst into a fit of giggles that I silenced with a swift kick under the table.

“Yeah, maybe,” I answered, earning another displeasing glance from my mother.

She turned away from me to smile at Frank again. “How is that lasagna, Frank? Raymond told me you didn’t eat meat.”

“It’s wonderful, Mrs. Toro,” He answered, (correctly).

“Thank you, honey,” She said, patting his hand.

I breathed a sigh of relief when dinner was over and they weren’t tossing Frank out the door. My mother just loved him, even more then she loved Bob, which I wouldn’t have thought humanly impossible.

“It was so nice to finally get to know you better,” my mother said, hugging Frank. “You are allowed over any time.” I almost could not believe my ears.

“Thank you, Mrs. Toro,” he said. She smiled, shooing us out into the living room while Eddie and Louie helped clear the table.

Frank turned to me once we were apparently out of earshot of everyone, “Hey, I was wondering, you want to sleep over tonight?”

I was surprised. “Um, I have to ask my mom –”

She ducked her head out from the kitchen, “You may, Raymond.”

I nodded. “Sure.”

“Nice,” Frank said, taking my hand. “Maybe you can try to teach me how to play Romance again.”

I don’t know if it was the way he said Romance or the way he gave my hand a sudden squeeze that told me we weren’t just going to be playing the guitar tonight.

I felt like a bomb had gone off inside of me.