I'm Not Okay (I Promise)
.o4.
In a way, I'm kind of annoyed at Frank. How can he just sit there while they hurt him and ruin his stuff? He never even looks angry, just halfheartedly annoyed. I don't know what's wrong with him, all I know is that I want to stop them from ever hurting him again, and that scares me a bit. Frank isn't talking much, but nobody notices because Mikey, Ray, and Bob are being so loud. Pretty soon I pull into our driveway and we all get out of the car.
"Is Mom home?" Mikey asks, a ridiculously hopeful expression on his face.
"No," I say, watching his shoulders slump and the hope leave his face. Frank is confused, the others give him "not now" looks. Mikey shakes it off and we go inside. Between us, there's enough money to order a pizza, so we do that and settle in on the couch to watch TV. Nothing's on, so everyone starts talking about random stuff: school, food, how much you'd have to get payed to fuck a cheerleader, random stuff like that. After a while, Frank mumbles something at me.
"Huh?"
"I said I wanna see your room," he says, a little too loudly. My heart beats faster as he turns an interesting shade of neon pink.
Mikey looks like he badly wants to laugh, but composes himself enough to talk.
"We've all seen it already, why don't you two just go."
I just nod, not trusting myself to say anyhting, and head upstairs. Once we get to my door, the embarrasments hits me so fast it's sickening. My room is a goddam pigsty. But it's too late, he's already pushing his way in and looking around. At least there's no smell (at the moment). I flop on my bed and he sits down next to me. I survey him from my lying-dowm position, and suddenly feel dizzy. He's picked up one of the pieces of paper with poetry scrawled on it, and he's reading it right now. I wait, hardly able to breathe, until he carefully sets it down, and looks at me.
"Gerard..these are.."
"Yeah, I know they suck, I really need to throw them all away, I-"
"..Amazing," he finishes simply, looking straight in my eyes.
And now I'm the same shade he was earlier, fighting to look everywhere but at him, but I can't seen to keep my eyes away. Desperately fishing for a change of conversation, I seize on what we were talking about earlier.
"You never answered my question."
"What question?"
"Why don't you try to fight back when those guys bother you?"
"It's not like it'll do anything except make it harder," he says breathlessly.
"I just don't want anything to..happen to you." We've been inching towards each other unconsciously all this time. Blood is pounding in my ears.
He's moving closer.
My heart is in my throat.
His wide eyes are centimeters away from mine.
I think I'm having a heart attack.
And then the door opens.
--
Can you feel it in the wind?
It's coming.
Next chapter.
You have been warned.
"Is Mom home?" Mikey asks, a ridiculously hopeful expression on his face.
"No," I say, watching his shoulders slump and the hope leave his face. Frank is confused, the others give him "not now" looks. Mikey shakes it off and we go inside. Between us, there's enough money to order a pizza, so we do that and settle in on the couch to watch TV. Nothing's on, so everyone starts talking about random stuff: school, food, how much you'd have to get payed to fuck a cheerleader, random stuff like that. After a while, Frank mumbles something at me.
"Huh?"
"I said I wanna see your room," he says, a little too loudly. My heart beats faster as he turns an interesting shade of neon pink.
Mikey looks like he badly wants to laugh, but composes himself enough to talk.
"We've all seen it already, why don't you two just go."
I just nod, not trusting myself to say anyhting, and head upstairs. Once we get to my door, the embarrasments hits me so fast it's sickening. My room is a goddam pigsty. But it's too late, he's already pushing his way in and looking around. At least there's no smell (at the moment). I flop on my bed and he sits down next to me. I survey him from my lying-dowm position, and suddenly feel dizzy. He's picked up one of the pieces of paper with poetry scrawled on it, and he's reading it right now. I wait, hardly able to breathe, until he carefully sets it down, and looks at me.
"Gerard..these are.."
"Yeah, I know they suck, I really need to throw them all away, I-"
"..Amazing," he finishes simply, looking straight in my eyes.
And now I'm the same shade he was earlier, fighting to look everywhere but at him, but I can't seen to keep my eyes away. Desperately fishing for a change of conversation, I seize on what we were talking about earlier.
"You never answered my question."
"What question?"
"Why don't you try to fight back when those guys bother you?"
"It's not like it'll do anything except make it harder," he says breathlessly.
"I just don't want anything to..happen to you." We've been inching towards each other unconsciously all this time. Blood is pounding in my ears.
He's moving closer.
My heart is in my throat.
His wide eyes are centimeters away from mine.
I think I'm having a heart attack.
And then the door opens.
--
Can you feel it in the wind?
It's coming.
Next chapter.
You have been warned.