Living on Perfectly Remembered Memories

I kissed Franchesa's cheek and told her I was going to a friend's house for the day. She pouted at me, saying that she doesn't like it when I'm lying to her. I claimed I wasn't and that if she wanted, I would call her house from the person's house. She agreed, letting me go, but gave me a weird stare.

I walked to his room, finding him twirling his drumsticks between his fingers. Sometimes I wish I could do that. I cleared my throat and watched as he sat up from his bed, clearly surprised that I was there.

"Matt, hey! Where've you been man?" Jimmy asked, clapping me on the back.

I grinned and lifted my shirt up so he could see my scar. I let him inspect it for a minute before pushing my shirt back down. Oh, did I mention that Jimmy was also another person who knew?

"Wow dude, that looked like a nasty one. Good job!"

I laughed, giving Jimmy a high five. He was always optimistic, looking on the bright side of things. That's how I am too. His optimism rubbed off onto me.

The hospital scene was a serious thing when I was there, but I stopped caring that I was in "critical condition" after the first day. "Yeah thanks. Wasn't that bad," I shrugged.

I laid out on the floor, staring at his ceiling. Half of it was dark blue while the other half was still white. A while ago, he wanted to paint his ceiling blue, and he did get it done, at least some of it. I remember helping him too. On our third day of painting, Jimmy decided, "This shit looks retarded. Fuck this," and threw the can of paint out the window. The can opened and blue paint splattered to the neighbor's house. We got into so much trouble with that, but it was just too funny to see Mr. Jan pop a vein screaming at us.

"Matt look at this," Jimmy said and shoved a paper in my face.

I turned it upright. This was exactly what I had in mind for my tattoo! I sat up, smiling at Jimmy. "Who drew that?" I demanded.

"This kid I know. Micah."

"No way! This is awesome! I've been trying to draw a skull with bat wings for months!"

"That's good for you; don't fall in love with the paper."

I fell back down to the ground, whining, "Shut up."

We fell back to silence, staring at the ceiling. Should I ask him? I did come here for a reason.

"What's shaking you?" Jimmy questioned, throwing his drumstick at my head. I picked it up and twirled it between my fingers like he did, or I tried at least.

"What do you think Fran is going to say when I tell her that we're starting a band?"

"I don't know. What does it matter?"

"She's my best friend."

"So?" He stood up, got out of his bed, and sat next to my figure on the floor.

"If she doesn't like the idea, how am I gonna have inspiration?" I continued, sitting up and facing him now.

"Why the hell do you care so much about her opinion? She's not going to be in it. Unless you decide to tell me that she can play bass then I'm listening."

"No..."

"You are so in love," he said extremely bluntly, as though it meant nothing. It shocked the hell out of me.

"Am not!" I retorted, shaking my head.

He clasped my shoulder, his head shaking a bit. "Face the truth. You. Are. In. Love. With. Her."

"Yeah and how do you know that?"

"You stare at her funny."

"You stare at Leana funny."

"Different."

"How?"

"Cause I openly admit I love her unlike some meathead I know."

"You know what? Shut up!"

Jimmy gave me a lopsided grin before hitting me on the back of the head. I growled, holding the spot he attacked. "What was that for?!" I seethed.

He shrugged. "You were being stubborn. I thought if I knocked some sense into you, you'd turn smart. Theory didn't work."

"You're an ass you know that?"

"And you're really stupid, you know that?"

"Whatever."

"Denial."

"Jimmy, shut it."

"Sure thing Matty."

He wasn't going to leave me alone about this. Oh and yeah, he's going to tell Leana about it. They're going to giggle at me whenever they see me. they're going to drive me up a wall with their constant comments. They aren't going to tell anyone else about it. They are very loyal friends.