Glades and Playgrounds
Chapter XXXI;
He took my threat seriously and stayed away from me for several days. Mike, Bert, Billie and Tré made feeble tries to talk to me, and I understood by how little they knew that Gerard had told them nothing. Mikey stayed away from me as well. He placed himself as far away from me as possible in the classrooms, and even managed to make our English teacher place him in a different group as we were gonna talk and analyze the characters feelings from Moulin Rouge in groups of four.
After five days of complete isolation, I was getting frustrated. I knew Gerard wanted to talk to me, but my threat of telling his parents about Mikey and him was in the way. I regretted more than anything that I had sent that message to him. Not that I wanted to talk to him, but I wanted him to at least try and talk to me, I wanted to see that he cared, that he missed me. I kept lowering my standards, which annoyed me a lot. Day two, I told myself that if he’d come over to my house and demand to talk to me, I’d let him. Day three, I told myself all he had to do was to walk up to me in person and talk to me in school. Day four I’d settle for a well-written, long letter from him, and today I had sunk so low I’d even answer him if he sent me the shortest of text messages.
And it annoyed me that he wouldn’t give me an explanation, that he wouldn’t tell me why he did it and what exactly it was that he had done. But most of all, it hurt that he hadn’t apologized in person. Come to think of it, he hadn’t apologized at all.
“Frank?” mom asked from outside of my bedroom door, knocking lightly on it, “Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled and took away the pillow I had been pressing hard against my face. “What is it?” I added as she entered my room with two cups in her hands.
“Just… you know, wanted to talk to you. You’ve been acting a bit weird lately…” she said and sat down on the edge of my bed, placing the cups on my bedside table, “I thought it would pass, but as far as I can see, it hasn’t. Scootch,” she waved her hand, signalling for me to move over so she could lie down on the bed.
“Linda…” I groaned, “I wanna be alone.”
“Hey, I’ve left you alone for days,” mom said, looking at me, “What’s wrong?”
Seeing her concerned, familiar face made me feel better about the whole situation, and I realized that ever since I started dating Gerard, my relationship with my mom had changed. She used to be more of a friend, or a cool aunt, but for several months now, she had felt more like a nagging mother and I like a teenager.
“Nothing, it’s just, you know, a lot in school right now…” I mumbled and looked out the window. If I leaned my head a little, I could see the rooftop of the Way’s house.
“How’s Gerard?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you fighting?”
I sat up, leaned my back against the wall and took one of the steaming cups from my bedside table. I thought she had made us coffee, but it was hot chocolate. With whipped cream. And a marshmallow. I smiled and lowered my eyes, looking at my thighs before drinking.
“Frank?”
“Yeah?” I mumbled and held the cup in my hands, warming my palms.
“What happened?”
“With what?”
“Between you and Gerard,” she said, sitting up as well and taking her cup. “Hey, you took my cup…”
“What’s the difference?” I asked, peeking in her cup. Hot chocolate as well.
“There is more whipped cream in mine…”
“The one you have?”
“No, the one you stole… But seriously… You and Gerard, spill.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Did he do something wrong?” she asked with just a hint of aggression in her voice. As much as I hated Gerard, I couldn’t tell her, couldn’t betray him like that even though I wanted.
“Yeah,” I said and took a sip of the hot chocolate, “But it’s okay, I don’t care.”
“What did he do?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it, mom!” I said angrily, annoyed that he wouldn’t care about the hints. I wanted to be alone. “I said that I was fine, I don’t care about Gerard, he’s just a fucking loser anyway!”
The insult didn’t feel as good to say as I thought it would. Instead of subsiding, the pain and anger clogged my throat, making it hard to breathe. I inhaled deeply through my nose, glaring at my hot chocolate and wished, harder than ever, that she’d leave the room.
“Frank, if he did something when you were alone that weekend, I wanna know. I won’t talk to him, I promise.”
“We had a fight, alright? It happens, no big deal!”
“What did you fight about?”
I shook my head hopelessly, refusing to look at her.
“Did you fight about sex?”
“No.”
“Frank, if-“
She left seconds later. I think I scared her when I threw my cup of hot chocolate across the room.
After five days of complete isolation, I was getting frustrated. I knew Gerard wanted to talk to me, but my threat of telling his parents about Mikey and him was in the way. I regretted more than anything that I had sent that message to him. Not that I wanted to talk to him, but I wanted him to at least try and talk to me, I wanted to see that he cared, that he missed me. I kept lowering my standards, which annoyed me a lot. Day two, I told myself that if he’d come over to my house and demand to talk to me, I’d let him. Day three, I told myself all he had to do was to walk up to me in person and talk to me in school. Day four I’d settle for a well-written, long letter from him, and today I had sunk so low I’d even answer him if he sent me the shortest of text messages.
And it annoyed me that he wouldn’t give me an explanation, that he wouldn’t tell me why he did it and what exactly it was that he had done. But most of all, it hurt that he hadn’t apologized in person. Come to think of it, he hadn’t apologized at all.
“Frank?” mom asked from outside of my bedroom door, knocking lightly on it, “Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled and took away the pillow I had been pressing hard against my face. “What is it?” I added as she entered my room with two cups in her hands.
“Just… you know, wanted to talk to you. You’ve been acting a bit weird lately…” she said and sat down on the edge of my bed, placing the cups on my bedside table, “I thought it would pass, but as far as I can see, it hasn’t. Scootch,” she waved her hand, signalling for me to move over so she could lie down on the bed.
“Linda…” I groaned, “I wanna be alone.”
“Hey, I’ve left you alone for days,” mom said, looking at me, “What’s wrong?”
Seeing her concerned, familiar face made me feel better about the whole situation, and I realized that ever since I started dating Gerard, my relationship with my mom had changed. She used to be more of a friend, or a cool aunt, but for several months now, she had felt more like a nagging mother and I like a teenager.
“Nothing, it’s just, you know, a lot in school right now…” I mumbled and looked out the window. If I leaned my head a little, I could see the rooftop of the Way’s house.
“How’s Gerard?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you fighting?”
I sat up, leaned my back against the wall and took one of the steaming cups from my bedside table. I thought she had made us coffee, but it was hot chocolate. With whipped cream. And a marshmallow. I smiled and lowered my eyes, looking at my thighs before drinking.
“Frank?”
“Yeah?” I mumbled and held the cup in my hands, warming my palms.
“What happened?”
“With what?”
“Between you and Gerard,” she said, sitting up as well and taking her cup. “Hey, you took my cup…”
“What’s the difference?” I asked, peeking in her cup. Hot chocolate as well.
“There is more whipped cream in mine…”
“The one you have?”
“No, the one you stole… But seriously… You and Gerard, spill.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Did he do something wrong?” she asked with just a hint of aggression in her voice. As much as I hated Gerard, I couldn’t tell her, couldn’t betray him like that even though I wanted.
“Yeah,” I said and took a sip of the hot chocolate, “But it’s okay, I don’t care.”
“What did he do?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it, mom!” I said angrily, annoyed that he wouldn’t care about the hints. I wanted to be alone. “I said that I was fine, I don’t care about Gerard, he’s just a fucking loser anyway!”
The insult didn’t feel as good to say as I thought it would. Instead of subsiding, the pain and anger clogged my throat, making it hard to breathe. I inhaled deeply through my nose, glaring at my hot chocolate and wished, harder than ever, that she’d leave the room.
“Frank, if he did something when you were alone that weekend, I wanna know. I won’t talk to him, I promise.”
“We had a fight, alright? It happens, no big deal!”
“What did you fight about?”
I shook my head hopelessly, refusing to look at her.
“Did you fight about sex?”
“No.”
“Frank, if-“
She left seconds later. I think I scared her when I threw my cup of hot chocolate across the room.