The Long Journey Ahead

Damien watched in amusement as Darren skipped around the shop, singing to the Britney Spears CD he put into the player. He looked over to me, mouthing 'Help' very clearly. I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. That man is not my brother so I don't have to deal with him. If he wants to make an ass out of himself, I'm not stopping him.

"Oh hey, Jes! I have something for you!" Darren shouted in mid-song singing.

"Yes!" I heard Damien say to himself.

I laughed; I wonder how the two of them ever survived each other when they had to live with each other. Damien is always so mature and serious, it's strange to see him even crack a smile. I've seen it a few times though! Darren, well he's Darren. He's crazy, weird, random, loud, but most of all, he's a little kitten underneath the Punk Rock armor. I always abused my power of figuring out that he's a big softie underneath it all.

"Here!" he screamed. Two pieces of blue paper flashed in front of my face, fanning them back and forth so I couldn't read the print on them.

"Stop!" I groaned, taking the papers away from him. The instant I read what it said, my jaw slacked completely. I looked back at Darren with a dazed face.

"Yup," he nodded.

I squealed like a nine-year-old Backstreet Boys fan, jumped up and down, and clapped my hands together. Right now, in my hands, are three tickets to a Sheet Monkeys mosh pit in Piscataway, New Jersey!

Oh man, I've loved them since three years ago when I met them standing in front of a Barnes and Noble Alex took me to for my birthday. I love reading, by the way. I remember the lead singer, Ash approaching me with a flyer in his hand. At the innocent age of 12, I didn't know the fashion style Punk so he scared the hell out of me when he walked towards me. Alex was still in her car, getting out her bag, so I was on my own. Ash walked up to me with spiky hair and all these wrist accessories on his arms.

Trust me, I was going to run away from him. The only problem; I was too scared and frozen too. He said hello and gave me the flyer. I took it meekly and looked down on it. After that, let's just say I began my Punk phase.

"Wait," I suddenly gasped. "This is scheduled for Sunday. That's in two days! We don't have off then!"

"Oh please. You haven't taken any sick days since you worked here. And you forget that I have connections with the owner here. We're going," Darren explained, rolling his eyes.

"So it's you and me and who else gets the last ticket?" I questioned, flapping one of the tickets in front of his face.

"Stop being stupid, Frank, duh," Darren replied, flicking my forehead.

"Where is he anyways?" Damien asked, walking towards us.

I tapped my chin, trying to remember what he told me this morning. "Oh yeah!" I said; remembered what he informed me of. "He can't go to work today. His mom is sick and he has to take care of her."

"Oh okay," Damien shrugged. "You should get home too then Jes."

"Whoa, why?"

"His mom is sick. A guy cannot take care of his mother. Just go."

"You're sure now?" I asked, grabbing my purse.

"Yes. Go," he laughed.

I thanked him, walking out the shop, and heading home. When I walked in through the door, I found Frank running around in the kitchen with towels in his hands. I dropped my purse on the table and ran over to him.

He looked frantic, his hair all messed up, and sweat coated his face.

"Hey what's going on?" I asked calmly.

He turned around, sighing in relief at the mere sight of me. The towels in his hands found their way to the sink and he leaned his back against the counter, pulling at his hair.

"I tried making chicken noodle soup," he began to explain, "but it didn't work out so well. The broth boiled over. Help!"

"Alright, alright," I laughed. "Finish the mess you made and I'll cook the soup for Mrs. Iero."

Frank nodded, setting to work, cleaning the liquids all over the floor. He always needed direction to calm down and think properly. It was a shame, really.

"By the way!" I voiced. He was in the bathroom, placing the towels in the hamper. "We're going to a Sheet Monkeys show on Sunday!"

All I heard was a whoosh sound before my back faced the stove. The wooden spoon in my hands clunked to the floor. Frank's face was about two inches away from mine.

I stopped breathing. I couldn't remember the last time we were this close to each other. I liked the feeling, I liked knowing that maybe he did have feelings for me too somehow. Damn it, I went through Hell with Casey so he would notice me.

"Where...is it?" he whispered, his breath clouding my face.

I closed my eyes, trying to regain my voice. "Piscataway."

Before I could even comprehend what happened, a soft force was on my lips. I opened my eyes in horror, watching Frank kiss me with his eyes closed. He looked so angelic; I just love everything about him. Any flaws in his facial features, I just couldn't get enough of. To say I'm falling for Frank is extreme, but too late, I think I am.

Finally, I let my eyes slip shut and relax in the kiss. Our lips moved in harmony. The kisses were gentle and soft, never forceful or lustful. I had wanted for this for so long. He was the main reason I ran away to Belleville. I could've gone anywhere in the United States but I decided on his little town. All because I had a vain hope, I could be with him some day. And maybe, just maybe, that vain hope isn't vain anymore.