High School Is the Least of Our Worries.

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Gerard.

I can’t talk to Frank. I can’t help but think about how I’m ruining his life, just to make me happy. I was never happy before; I’m used to it. But Frank had a wonderful life, before he met me, and it should stay like that. I can’t bear to see him hurt.

I think he starts to notice that I’m quiet, as he turns his face to me. I have to try really hard to resist the temptation of kissing him again. He asks once more if I’m alright; I can’t tell him the truth. I tell him I’m fine, and he senses I’m lying, but doesn’t provoke it. We just wait for the car to arrive to take us to Frank’s house, where we can be alone.

The car finally comes, and we jump in. It’s a pretty cool car, a new mini, which barely enables Frank to sit up straight. I notice a few people watching us as we drive past, wondering what I’m doing with him, but Frank doesn’t seem to notice; or, indeed, care.

What the fuck?

He should be cringing. He should be ducking down in the car, making sure his friends can’t see him. He should be ashamed. But he’s not; either that or he’s a really good actor.

As he gives me directions, he glances at me from time to time with strange intensity. It’s soothing, but it confuses me. Shouldn’t he be scared? Nervous? Bemused? I’m amazed at his courage and willingness.

We stop outside this huge mansion, which he soon introduces as his house. My jaw drops. I always knew Frank must be well off, but fucking stinking rich?! I suddenly don’t feel worthy of going in his house. I stay rooted to the spot, knowing I’m too dirty to step foot into such a house. I’m not good enough for him.

Frank.

I suddenly feel very self conscious about where I live. I’m embarrassed at how grand it looks compared to Gerard’s.

“Uhh... well this is where I live,” I explain as we sit in his car, looking at my house. He simply stares at the house, not moving or saying anything.

“Hey, man… you ok?” I ask and he turns his head to look at me.

“I can’t go in,” He says quietly.

“Why not?” I ask confused, placing a hand on his shoulder. Noticing he’s looking upset at something.

“Nothing… it’s stupid really,” he replies, gazing up at my house again.

“Gee I’m your friend, you can tell me,” I say softly and he smiles slightly.

“I’m not worthy of going in your house,” he mumbles, looking down at his lap.

“What? Of course you are, why do you think you aren’t?” I ask and his bottom lip trembles slightly.

“I’m not good enough to be your friend,” He whispers, he sounds so broken. I lean over slightly and peck his cheek gently. Biting my lip before pulling him into a hug.