You and Me

“Um, Frank, I don’t think that you actually like me like that. You wouldn’t want to kiss me anyway,” I stammered. This was so overbearing.

“But … I do,” he muttered. “You are really nice to me and…”

“Frank, please. Listen to me. You wouldn’t want to just waste your first kiss like that. Trust me, all right?”

“I won't be wasting it though,” he insisted. He bit his bottom lip and played with his fingers for the next few minutes. He seemed embarrassed.

“Frank,” I finally said. He looked up at me with tears in his eyes. “Oh god,” I mumbled.

I got closer to him and wrapped my arms around him in a gentle embrace. I rubbed his back as gently as I could, not wanting him to cry. It killed me inside to see him like this. Why did I have to be such a softie?

“I-I thought you liked me,” he sniveled.

“Frank, I do like you, but kissing and stuff like that—that’s a different type of like. I don’t know how your mom would feel if you dated, let alone kissed someone, especially me. You're really nice, and funny, and smart, and you're cute—I mean that. One day, you'll get to have your first kiss, all right? I promise you,” I said.

He nodded his head against my chest. I was thankful that he wasn’t crying hard.

I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing the right thing.

Then why didn’t I feel like I was? I didn’t feel like I was doing the right thing. I didn’t like to see anyone upset. I really didn’t know how to handle this. God, I wished his mom would get home soon.

“Do you want to eat some dinner?” I asked him a few minutes later.

“No,” he muttered.

“Are you sure?” I asked when I heard his stomach growl.

“No,” he muttered again. I let out a small, short-lived giggle. He pushed away from me and looked at me with red eyes. “Don’t make fun of me,” he said. Frank looked so hurt. I shouldn’t have laughed at him.

“Frank, I'm not making fun of you, I swear. I'm sorry for laughing at you, but your stomach growled and I know you're hungry, even though you said no. Please don’t be mad at me. Now, do you want to eat dinner or not?” I asked.

I had to change the subject quickly. How has this night gone from so good to so bad so quickly? I don’t get life sometimes.

“I want cheese pizza,” he said.

“You like pizza, don’t you?” I asked, smiling.

He nodded, a smile creeping its way onto his mouth.

“Come here,” I said. I opened my arms to him and we shared a long, much needed hug. “I'm sorry for laughing at you. I'm also sorry about earlier … about the whole kiss thing, but I just can't do it.”

“It is okay, Gerard,” he said, still smiling very faintly.

We let go of each other and I called in a pizza for us. It arrived around twenty past seven and we ate in silence. At eight fifteen, his mom came home. It was pitch black outside, so I couldn’t drive unless I called my mom to come pick me up, but that would make me seem like such a loser.

When I first started driving when I was sixteen, I never drove at night because I was afraid of being outside at night. I've always had this fear, though. Even when we lived a year in a really nice, low crime rated area of Idaho I was still afraid. I'm paranoid. A few months after I turned seventeen, I got over that fear slightly. I wouldn’t walk on the street at night, but driving was different. After I hit nearly three squirrels and five raccoons, I came to the conclusion that I was as blind as Mikey at night. During the day, I could see fine. At night, however, it was like everything was just blended together because of the darkness. I went another year and at least thirty more dead animals before telling my mom.

She made me drive around the block once it was dark that day and confirmed that I was as blind as a bat. She then went on to joke that I should use my ears—which she claims are big, even though they're not—to act as my main sense like a bat uses echolocation. I pretended to not see the parked car in front of us up the road and nearly crashed into it after I freaked my mom out. In my opinion, it was pure brilliance.

“Hi Linda,” I grinned.

“Hi Gerard,” she said, smiling. “Thank you again for staying with Frank. Is there any way I can repay you?” she asked, setting her purse on the counter in the kitchen. Frank watched me and his mom, glancing back and forth. I motioned for Frank to lean over closer to me, to which he complied and I whispered in his ear. His eyes lit up once I told him.

“Mom!” he practically yelled, bouncing up and down in his seat.

“What is it?” Linda laughed, walking over and hugging Frank.

“C-Can Gerard, um, spend the night?” he asked. He looked like he was confused, but at the same time knew what he was talking about.

“He can if he wants to,” she grinned.

“Thank you!” Frank yelled, getting up to hug Linda tightly. I stayed in my seat and watched them, completely amused by Frank.

“You're welcome, but what is he going to sleep in? And where will he sleep?” Linda asked, first looking at Frank and then me with an eyebrow raised. I looked around the room, not knowing what to say.

“He, um, he can sleep in my clothes and in my-in my room,” Frank said.

“Only if Gerard doesn’t mind,” Linda said. I had resorted to looking down at the floor. “Gerard?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. No, I don’t mind,” I smiled, nodding my head like a freak.

“Good then,” Linda said happily. “Frank, why don’t you go ahead and take a shower and Gerard and I will talk, okay?”

Frank nodded, looked at me and smiled, and then walked upstairs. Linda sat down at the table after getting herself something to drink. I was nervous. What did she want to talk about?

“Gerard, I just wanted to talk to you about Frank and some stuff that you should know about him,” she said. I think I let out a breath I was holding in.

“Oh, okay,” I said, though it sounded like a whisper. Linda laughed a little bit.

“I wanted to talk to you about the situation with Frank's dad in case Frank ever brought that up. First of all, I want you to know that I have the situation completely under control, so there's no need to worry. I don’t like to tell people my business, but I think you should know since you're one of the few people that try to get to know Frank.

“When Frank was five, his dad became depressed for whatever reason. He wouldn’t talk to me or interact with Frank at all. Later, before Frank turned six, he became addicted to alcohol and would verbally abuse Frank. Frank didn’t know what to think or what he being yelled at for, even though it was for no reason whatsoever. Once the physical stuff happened, I left with Frank. We used to live in Canton, New York, but I didn’t—couldn’t—move too far away, so we settled in Jersey, where Frank was born. With the help of some of my friends and family, we were able to buy a small apartment at first and live pretty well. I got a new job and after a few promotions, we moved into this house. Frank was so much happier away from that man.

“Now, he wants to get joint custody over him, but my lawyer isn’t allowing it. He helped me with my divorce and he knows everything that happened between us and how he treated Frank. I got a restraining order against him nearly twelve years ago and I refuse to drop it for anything. Don’t worry though; I won't let anything happen to Frank,” she explained.

That was a lot of information to take in.

“Wow,” I finally said. “I would’ve never have guessed that that was what happened. Thank you for telling me though. Frank said something about his dad wanting to see him or something earlier. I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I didn’t want to say anything to scare him or question him.”

“Yeah, I got off the phone with him about fifteen minutes before you arrived. Thank you for being a good friend to Frank, even if you don’t know him too well right now. I hope I cleared the air a little bit,” she smiled.

“Trust me, you did,” I laughed. She laughed too and took a drink.

“How old are you anyway? You don’t look any older than fifteen,” she said.

“I'm nineteen,” I said. “Everybody thinks I'm like, twelve or something though. One time, I was pulled over because they thought I was a preteen that stole a car,” I told her, making her laugh.

***

In a few more hours, Frank and I went to bed. I made myself a little cot type thing on the floor next to Frank's bed out of a few blankets.

Frank was staring at me as I got under the covers.

“Yes?” I laughed, making him giggle.

“Nothing,” he giggled. “M-My mom said that she thinks you are really nice and sweet.”

“Well I think you're really nice and sweet,” I said, sitting up so that I was face to face with him.

The room was hardly lit. The only light was that coming from the moon outside of the window. I could still see Frank though. He looked so different for some reason. His facial features seemed more noticeable. I couldn’t help myself…

“Frank, do you … do you still want me to kiss you?” I asked him gently. I could barely hear myself, even without the sound of blood rushing through my head. My heartbeat was rapid—even more so than when I called Michelle. Oh god, what about her?

What about her…

Frank nodded his head and bit his bottom lip.

“Only if you're positive,” I said. I felt sleepy, or like I was in an entranced state of mind.

“I-I'm positive,” he mumbled.

With his final word, I carefully, slowly, pressed my lips to his, taking his first kiss from him. It was short and sweet, but it was … satisfying.

“Th-That’s what it’s like to-to kiss?” Frank stammered after I pulled away.

“That’s what it’s like to kiss,” I confirmed.

We didn’t say anymore. Frank seemed to be content with what we did. We both fell asleep only a little bit later.