You and Me

Today was Thursday, meaning that I was to go see Frank today. I got showered and dressed, grabbing my cell phone and wallet, and then walked downstairs.

“Your date’s this early in the morning?” Mikey asked, sitting on the couch eating some cereal.

“For one, it’s nearly noon. And no, my date is not until tomorrow and it’s at night, nosey,” I said. “Today, I'm going to see Frank.”

“You are?” I heard my Mom ask from behind me. I jumped in surprise and turned to face her, nodding my head. “Okay, be good and don’t get kicked out of anyone’s house,” she said, kissing my head.

“Why does everybody in this house think that I'm some kind of criminal?” I asked to no one in particular.

“Because you don’t have a very good past,” Mikey said.

“Or because you put your brother in the washing machine and turned it on when you were twelve,” my Mom interjected. “He went through nearly a full cycle, and if I hadn’t have come home before the spin cycle, he would’ve most likely been dead.”

I started laughing and pointing at Mikey. His hair was longer then, at least down to his shoulders. He still had his dorky glasses then, though he’s upgraded to a new pair since then. He took one of my comic books and wouldn’t give it back that summer. My Mom had trusted us to stay home for an hour by ourselves—we’d done it before, so what could happen, right? Anyway, I fought with him for nearly thirty minutes and finally just picked him up and put him in the washing machine. If he wasn’t so naturally fucking thin, he wouldn’t have fit in it. I turned it on the normal cycle, and soon heard the water fill up. To make sure that he couldn’t get out, I put all of the frozen food in the freezer on top of it, including a brisket, and nearly ten slabs of ribs that we were going to have for a Fourth of July party two days later. I got yelled at by my Mom, but it wasn’t too bad. When my Mom ‘rescued’ Mikey from the washing machine, screaming her head off, might I add, he was soaked. I didn’t put soap in it, because my Mom didn’t want me using laundry soap after one incident. When my Mom pulled Mikey out, he was shaking, his glasses foggy, and his hair sopping. He looked like a wet puppy dog.

“And still, you laugh at him to this day. You're just horrible,” my Mom continued.

“That was not funny! I could have drowned and you're still laughing at me. You're a heartless big brother,” Mikey said.

“Please, Spencer Elden didn’t die when he was thrown into a pool, so it’s not like you died either,” I said.

“Who the fuck is that?” Mikey asked.

“Language Mikey,” my Mom warned before going back to her room.

“Okay, you know the naked baby swimming on the cover of Nirvana’s Nevermind CD? The kid’s name is Spencer Elden,” I said.

“Where do you find this shit out?” Mikey asked, laughing.

“I have my ways,” I smiled before walking out the door. I got in my car and followed the directions I wrote down to get to Frank's house. Surprisingly, he only lived about ten minutes away from our house. I got out and walked up to the door, ringing the bell. I heard someone yell something, and then Frank's Mom appeared.

“Hi,” she said brightly.

“Hello,” I said, smiling a little.

“I'm so happy that you were able to come over. Frank talks non-stop about you. I, personally, think that you're a pretty good influence on him,” Linda said, walking me through the house. “He should be down in a minute. I think he's straightening up his room or something. I hate to be a bother, but would you mind if I went out to run some errands?” she asked.

“Not at all,” I said. I felt like I didn’t talk enough.

“Is there a specific time that you need to be back home?” she asked.

“Nope,” I smiled.

She let out a breath of relief, it sounded like.

“Gerard, you're so wonderful and I hardly even know you. Your mother must be so proud of you. I'm going to leave some money if you want to order anything for lunch,” she said, going to the dining room table and digging through her purse. She handed me forty dollars and called for Frank again. Before either of us could say anything, Frank came downstairs, not smiling at all.

“Mom,” he said, looking at the floor, “why did I have to clean my room?”

“What's the matter? You don’t like cleaning?” I said, making his head pop up to look at me. He smiled as soon as he fully recognized me and came to hug me. I hugged him back and heard his Mom chuckle.

“Frankie, give me a hug and a kiss; I'm leaving for a few hours,” Linda said as Frank pulled away from me, still smiling goofily.

Frank hugged her and kissed her cheek.

“Gerard, honestly, I don’t know when I’ll be back, so if it gets too late and I'm not back, please don’t leave Frank by himself. I know that I'm asking a lot from you and all, but—“

“It’s perfectly fine. I don’t have anything to do today,” I interrupted. She thanked me and carried on her way. After she was gone, I turned to look at Frank. “So how have you been?” I asked him.

“I-I've been good,” he said bashfully, dropping his head down.

“That’s good,” I smiled, watching him as he played with his fingers. How much cuter could he be?

“Do … do you want to go to my room?” he asked me nervously. Being the sick, dirty pervert that I am, I took that the wrong way at first looking at him with wide eyes, but then understood that he's being completely innocent.

“Yeah, sure,” I said quickly, noticing his fast diminishing smile. His smile returned and he took me upstairs. His room was really nice.

“It’s really clean,” I commented, lightly touching the comforter. Most of his furniture was black, and his “accent color” was turquoise. The comforter was black and turquoise and so was a plushy lounge chair next to the window. He had a TV across from his bed, much like my room.

“I like your room Frank,” I told him, watching as he walked around nervously before sitting on the edge of his bed. I sat down next to him. He was different in his home environment…