Next Door

I shift my weight from my left to my right leg and shove my hands in my hoodie pocket. I swallow and then cough because my throat is so dry. I will myself not to be excited, but only half of the butterflies go away.
The door opens and all the butterflies are back.

“Hi Frank,” Donna says and turns to leave. She's so used to me coming over that she doesn't even say 'come in' anymore.
I step inside and close the door behind me, before I jump up the stairs. I open Gerard's door and give it a push to somewhat shut it behind me.

“Hey,” I say, bringing Gerard out of his gazing-out-the-window moment. My stomach hurts. The pain goes up into my throat and I swallow to get it back down. I cough again.

“Yeah, I heard ya,” Gerard says annoyed. He says it in a playful tone, but the annoyance gets to me anyways.
“Come see. She's doing her make-up.” He nods his heads towards the window before he gazes back out of it.

Reluctantly, I slowly walk towards him. The pulse in my neck starts pounding and I rub it to make it stop. It always goes crazy when I have to stare at the girl next door from Gerard's.
Her blond hair is back in a clamp. She's leaning towards her mirror, focusing hard to put the mascara on just right. She's wearing a white tube top and a yellow skirt.

I glance over at Gerard through the corner of my eye quickly, before I look back at her. He's mesmerized by her.

“I love how she does her make-up,” Gerard says dreamily.

I started wearing eyeliner when he said that the first time. He noticed it and told me he liked it. It made my stomach tickle, but it also made my chest hurt. He didn't love it.
I dyed my hair blond about a month ago. Only the sides, but he still noticed it. He didn't say he liked it. He said it looked cool.
I once tried on a pink hoodie at a clothing store when Gerard needed a new pair of jeans. He looked incredible in those tight jeans. He said I looked ridiculous.

“I can't believe anyone can look that good,” he says absentmindedly as he slowly and softly shakes his head. His eyes stay fixed.

“I can't believe how incredibly cliché you are,” I snarl. In love with the girl next door. It's nauseating.

“Oh, shut up,” he says loudly and pushes me lightly. I manage to keep my balance despite my knees giving in suddenly.
“Shit! Get down,” he says before he quickly drops to the floor beside me. I just keep standing. I look over at her window and manage to catch a glimpse of her staring at me before I'm pulled to the floor by Gerard.
“You idiot!” he hisses before he lets go of my sleeve. I frown at him.
“She saw us,” he whispers harshly.

“Why are you whispering?” I ask loudly, rolling my eyes at him. I feel a little dizzy when I focus on him again.

“Shut up,” he says defensively and turns his head away from me. I bow my head and look down at my shoes. They're new.
“She saw us. Now she knows I'm staring at her,” he whines and sits down on the floor.

“I think she already knew,” I mumble. I pick at my very white shoelace and hide behind my tiny black fringe.

“You think?” He sounds terrified. I look up to see his wide eyes. I suddenly realize how close we are. We're just mere inches from each other. Our legs are almost touching and our hands aren't that far from each other. His lips are within reach.
“Fuck,” he says, looking to the side again. His cheek faces me and I look down again, swallowing down the pain.

He sighs heavily. I sigh lightly.

“I should just wave at her next time she sees me staring. Maybe she'll think I'm...cute.”
I get up and walk towards the door. My chest hurts and the pain has now hit my head. My entire body is aching.
“Where are you going?”

“Home,” I screech.

“Wait!” I stop.
“Why?”
I just stare at the door. The pain is burning in my eyes, making it hard to see anything clearly. My fingertips are hurting with every jolt of blood that rushes to them.
“You don't like her, do you?”

I've always made that clear.

“Why don't you want me to be happy?”

Because I'm not happy if you get what you want.

“Why don't you like her? Look at her! She's perfect.”

“No! She's not!” I scream and turn around. Gerard is standing by the window. He turns his head just as I turn around. He was staring at her again. My toes are throbbing.
He looks at me like I'm a lunatic. And maybe I am.

“Why?”

“Because she's not you!” I scream at the top of my lungs, letting it all out for the first time. Ever.

I stand there and stare at his shocked expression as I try desperately to catch my breath. I can't.

“I'm gay,” I gasp out, “you fuckhead!”

Without ever catching my breath, I turn around and run out of his room. I tear the door open and when I run down the stairs I feel his wide eyes on me.
I rip the front door open and don't bother closing it behind me as I run off, across the lawn and into my own house.

If only Gerard's window had faced my house instead of hers, then maybe he would've fallen in love with the boy next door, just like I did.