Eat My Heart Out

I put my toothbrush back in the calcified mug and step out of my bathroom. Frank isn’t here yet, so I simply go over, grab a comic and sit down on my bed until he shows up. It’s Friday. I’m looking forward to three whole nights of snuggling.

I have no homework. I have no classes. School for Frank and Mikey end in a week, and for that whole week, I’ve got nothing to do.

Mom will probably start nagging me about getting a job, but I can put it off by making a huge deal out of the fact that I don’t have my diploma yet, so in reality, I haven’t graduated high school yet, and nobody wants to hire an 18-year-old non-graduate.

I glance over at the clock to see that it’s just past 11. I left Frank on the couch a little less than an hour ago, saying I was gonna get ready for bed. That usually means that I’ll be down here cleaning up for 55 minutes, then take 2 minutes to take a leak and brush my teeth.

Frank is usually on my bed by the time I exit my bathroom. I guess I’ve been quick at cleaning up today.

“Hi.”

I jump.

When I turn my head, I see Frank standing in the doorway.

“Fuck,” I say and grab my chest as if to stop my heart from beating so hard.
“I didn’t even hear you,” I grin, before I open my arms to Frank. He smiles softly and walks agonizingly slow towards me. When he finally gets within my reach, I grab onto his waist and pull him down on top of me.

“Gee,” he squeals before his face lands in the sheets and his cute giggle gets muffled in the fabric. I bury my face in his stomach, rubbing my nose against him.
“Gee,” he gasps and I can’t help but giggle. He’s such a horny teenager.
“Gee,” he whines out. I feel a heat roll though my body and into my crotch, and I quickly roll over so I can go lower on Frank’s body.

When he’s on his back, I start placing butterfly kisses down his clothed stomach, but when I glance up through my eyelashes at him, he doesn’t look turned on.

He looks hurt.

I pull away from him, roll onto my side and frown at him lightly.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. Concern settles in my chest like a rock. I quickly grab his hand and caress it softly as I stare intently into his eyes.

He glances down at our hands, shakes his head and looks back up at me.

“It’s nothing. I just fell in gym today and I kinda hurt my stomach,” he says, almost sounding apologetic. There’s an insecurity in his voice.

“How?” I ask, frowning down at his stomach. I let go of his hand and gently touch his t-shirt.

“I had to jump over the horse, but it kinda went all wrong,” he says rushed as I carefully lift up his shirt.
“I didn’t gain enough speed before I reached it, and I didn’t jump high enough.” His stomach slowly appears. Even though my room is dark, it’s still easy to see the forming bruises on his upper stomach, right beneath his ribs.
“It hurts, but nothing is broken.”

I quickly raise my head to look into his eyes. They’re smiling. I don’t smile back. I can’t.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” We’ve spent all day together. Ever since he and Mikey got home from school, we’ve been sitting in the living room. Hours have gone by. We’ve eaten dinner. We’ve dissed “top” models. At no point did he mention this.

“Because it’s nothing. It’s just a little sore,” he says, smiling. I still don’t smile back.
“Gee,” he coos, scoots down the bed to lie right in front of me and places his hand on my cheek.
“I’m alright. You don’t have to worry so much,” he says sweetly, before he leans in and briefly kisses me.

A small smile forms on my lips when he pulls away from me, my cheek still in the palm of his hand. Our eyes catch each other. Or his catch mine. I can never tell.

“I promise to jump higher next time,” he says with a wide smile, and I bury my face in his neck to hide my wide, goofy grin.