Home Alone

When Gerard comes over to check on Frank the next day, inviting himself in, of course, Frank wastes no time in interrogating him.

"Did you beat up The Brat across the street?"

"What?" Gerard asks, sitting down on the couch.

"The Brat. You're the one that beat him up, right?" Frank asks, sitting in the chair next to the couch.

"I didn't beat him up! I just," Gerard trails off and looks around the room, then back at Frank. "He deserved it."

"Gerard! He's twelve!" Frank yells, his eyes wide.

"So? He's a little shit."

"Well, I must say, I'm honored you beat up a little kid just for me. I-"

"Woah, woah, woah. No, I didn't beat him up for you. Dream on."

Frank starts singing 'Dream On' by Aerosmith in his head, then says, "Well then why'd you do it?"

Gerard sort of moves his jaw from side to side, and rolls his eyes about three times, before saying, "I just don't like him."

"Why don't you just admit it was for me?"

"Because it wasn't! God, get over yourself."

"Just admit you care about me!"

"I don't care about you! God! He's just a stupid little kid with a stupid little face and," Gerard pauses, his eyes searching the ground for nothing. "The sight of him just makes me angry."

Frank just stares at him. "The sight of him, a 12 year old boy, made you angry enough to beat him up?"

They're both quiet for about seven seconds, before Frank bursts into laughter, nearly falling off the chair. He figures Gerard is probably looking at him like he's a lunatic, but when he looks up, Gerard is laughing just as hard as he is, bending over his knees with his eyes clenched shut.

Frank points at him and says through his laughter, "I can't believe you hit him!" He thinks he might pee himself.

Gerard calms down some and, a little out of breath, says, "Yeah, well. No one makes you bleed but me."

Frank calms down too, and makes a confused look, before saying, "But you don't make me bleed."

Gerard narrows his eyes and says, "Would you like for that to change?"

Frank narrows his eyes as well and says, "I could take you," before his composure breaks and he's giggling.

"Nice giggle, dork." Gerard's smiling when he says this, though, so Frank doesn't take it as an insult.

"Awwww. Thank you! Man, first you beat up a kid that hurts me, now you tell me you like my giggle. Gerard, you're getting soft on me here."

Gerard instantly goes rigid and says, "Don't get any ideas here. I still don't like you."

Frank thinks they're still kidding, so he moves over to the couch to sit next to Gerard and says, "I think you like me, actually. I think you really like me," while wiggling his eyebrows like an idiot.

Gerard jumps off the couch and goes, "Ew! That's disgusting! I'm not a," but he cuts himself off again, thinking of a way to end his sentence. Then he decides to end it with, "A fag," but it almost looks like it hurts him to say it.

Frank jerks his head back in surprise, and doesn't even try to hide his hurt look. He was just kidding, but still. "Wow. Alright. Is that why you hate me so much?"

Gerard looks very uncomfortable, and says, "No," very quietly.

"Gerard, I was kidding. I thought you were kidding."

"Well I wasn't. I don't like you, Frank. I come over here because I have to, okay?"

"But you invite yourself in, and you invited me to your house! I just thought. I don't know." Frank thinks he's actually going to cry. Over something as stupid as this. I mean, what did he expect really? That they'd laugh and just be best buddies? Yeah, right.

"Yeah, well. Don't think anymore. You'll hurt yourself."

"Oh real mature, Gerard! Go back to the insults. God forbid you be civil towards me."

"I'm civil towards people I like. That doesn't include you."

"I don't get what I did to you! You just hated me from the beginning. What is it that makes you hate me so much?!" Frank's getting a little worked up, now. He'd never really thought of this. He has no idea what he did to Gerard to deserve this.

"You didn't do anything. I just don't like you."

"Oh yeah. That makes perfect sense. Like The Brat, right?"

"No. It's nothing like that. It's," he pauses and runs his hands through his hair violently. "It's the way you look, and the way you laugh, and the way you don't lock your fucking door. And it's your smile and your eyes and your, fucking, everything. It all just makes me." He stops again, and shakes his head, before looking Frank straight in the eyes and saying, "It all just makes me hate you." Then he turns around and walks out Frank's front door; after locking it, of course.

Frank swallows hard, and blinks rapidly, because he's definitely not going to cry. He stands up and goes over to the door, and sort of has a fit. He screams and growls and punches and kicks the door, and he does feel a little better after he's done. But not really. Then he unlocks the door and goes up to his room to listen to angry music and draw pictures of The Brat beating up Gerard, because Frank probably couldn't do it, and it would be funnier if The Brat did it anyway.

****

A couple of hours later, Frank's doorbell rings. He turns off his music and goes downstairs to open the door. When he does, there's no one out there. But, there is a pile of four or five comic books sitting on the ground. Frank smiles and picks them up, looking around outside but not seeing anyone. It doesn't really matter, he knows who they're from. He goes back inside and into the living room, looking at the comics to see which ones were left. He's already read two of them, but he's never even heard of the other three, but they look good.

Half way through the second comic book, Frank decides he needs food. He goes into the kitchen and looks in the fridge. He finds a plate of spaghetti and puts it in the microwave. When there is twenty seconds left, Frank hears his front door open, then shut again. He freezes and swallows, looking over at the entrance to the kitchen. The microwave goes off and nearly gives Frank a heart-attack. He opens the microwave door, but leaves the plate in there and continues to look at the kitchen entrance. When no one walks in, he starts walking to his front door; slowly. There's no one in the hallway, and no one in the living room. His eyebrows cross in confusion, and he goes over to the front door. When he tries to open it, it's locked. He rolls his eyes, but smiles, and unlocks and opens the door. When he looks out, he sees Gerard and his friends walking away from his house, towards town. He shakes his head and closes the door, leaving it unlocked. He's not letting Gerard win that easily. But nice try.