Troubles
Dinner
I walk down the hall with my head down. I'm assuming I don't have any friends left. If Gerard decides to take pity on me, I'd rather he didn't look at me. If he told Mikey and Mikey follows his big brother, I don't want him to look at me either.
I'd rather be alone. Just for now, at least.
“Hi, Frank,” Gerard says. I smile up, but I don't look at him. I open my locker and stare ahead, trying to remember what class I'm going to first. It's Friday. Friday, I've got... Friday, my first class is...
Fuck!
“Hey, do you wanna come over for dinner tonight? Mom wanna ask you what you and your family's doing for Thanksgiving.”
Great. He's told his parents too. Now all they're gonna do is look at me like I'm some kind of charity case. I want to say no, but I promised myself never to deny a meal – never.
“Sure,” I mumble, slam my locker shut and walk off down the hall. The bell goes off.
-----
We're sitting in Gerard's room in the basement, watching some random TV-show that I've just realized that I hate, even though it's the first time I've ever seen it.
I just sit in the corner of Gerard's tiny couch and lean my head on my hand. I'm bored, but try not to insult the brothers too much, since they seem intrigued by the program. I'm hungry, I'm tired, but I don't wanna leave. This is the warmest, safest place I've been in a week. Last week, I was here as well. Before that, the last safe place I was at is a place I'd rather forget.
“Dinner!” Gerard slowly reaches for the remote, but doesn't turn the TV off. Mikey gets up off the floor and walks towards the stairs and I follow. Gerard gets up from the couch, but he doesn't move more than that. I follow Mikey up the stairs, leaving Gerard with his lame TV-show.
“Would you like some cola with your pork chop, Frank?” I wrinkle my nose. Not at the offer of cola, but at the offer of pork chop. I really hope they try to be healthy in this family and serve a lot of salad with it.
“Yes, please,” I answer weakly. I lower my head as I walk towards the table and sit down next to Mikey. Donald smiles at me and I try to smile back, but the six pork chops on the plate in front of me makes it hard to be genuine.
Donna sits down at the table and starts passing the salad bowl around. I smile at Donald when he passes it to me; it's a bit easier to do this time.
While I put a lot of salad on my plate, Donna starts passing out pork chops. She puts the biggest one on my plate. I smile quickly and take some more salad, trying to put it so it doesn't touch the pork.
Gerard finally shows up and sits in the chair next to his mom and cuts up his pork chop before he's even gotten the salad. I retch silently and dig into my salad.
“So, Frank. What are you and your parents doing for Thanksgiving?” I swallow down my tomato and look up at her.
Okay, here comes the lies.
“Uhm, my mom and grandma are going to Canada to visit my br- my mom's brother.” I almost fucked that up.
“I can't go, because I don't have a passport.” I have no idea if that lie is gonna hold up. I don't even know if you'd need a passport to go across the border to Canada. At least the part about me not having a passport is true.
“Oh,” Donna says, frowns and looks down at her plate. I look over at Donald and see that he's frowning. I have no idea what the frowns mean. Well, Donald already frowns about 80 % of the times that I see him, so I don't really think much of it, but the fact that Donna is frowning makes me nervous.
“Would you like to spent Thanksgiving with us, then?” she asks, before she puts her fork in her mouth and starts chewing on a bit of pork. I smile. It's easy this time.
“I'd love to.”
I'd rather be alone. Just for now, at least.
“Hi, Frank,” Gerard says. I smile up, but I don't look at him. I open my locker and stare ahead, trying to remember what class I'm going to first. It's Friday. Friday, I've got... Friday, my first class is...
Fuck!
“Hey, do you wanna come over for dinner tonight? Mom wanna ask you what you and your family's doing for Thanksgiving.”
Great. He's told his parents too. Now all they're gonna do is look at me like I'm some kind of charity case. I want to say no, but I promised myself never to deny a meal – never.
“Sure,” I mumble, slam my locker shut and walk off down the hall. The bell goes off.
-----
We're sitting in Gerard's room in the basement, watching some random TV-show that I've just realized that I hate, even though it's the first time I've ever seen it.
I just sit in the corner of Gerard's tiny couch and lean my head on my hand. I'm bored, but try not to insult the brothers too much, since they seem intrigued by the program. I'm hungry, I'm tired, but I don't wanna leave. This is the warmest, safest place I've been in a week. Last week, I was here as well. Before that, the last safe place I was at is a place I'd rather forget.
“Dinner!” Gerard slowly reaches for the remote, but doesn't turn the TV off. Mikey gets up off the floor and walks towards the stairs and I follow. Gerard gets up from the couch, but he doesn't move more than that. I follow Mikey up the stairs, leaving Gerard with his lame TV-show.
“Would you like some cola with your pork chop, Frank?” I wrinkle my nose. Not at the offer of cola, but at the offer of pork chop. I really hope they try to be healthy in this family and serve a lot of salad with it.
“Yes, please,” I answer weakly. I lower my head as I walk towards the table and sit down next to Mikey. Donald smiles at me and I try to smile back, but the six pork chops on the plate in front of me makes it hard to be genuine.
Donna sits down at the table and starts passing the salad bowl around. I smile at Donald when he passes it to me; it's a bit easier to do this time.
While I put a lot of salad on my plate, Donna starts passing out pork chops. She puts the biggest one on my plate. I smile quickly and take some more salad, trying to put it so it doesn't touch the pork.
Gerard finally shows up and sits in the chair next to his mom and cuts up his pork chop before he's even gotten the salad. I retch silently and dig into my salad.
“So, Frank. What are you and your parents doing for Thanksgiving?” I swallow down my tomato and look up at her.
Okay, here comes the lies.
“Uhm, my mom and grandma are going to Canada to visit my br- my mom's brother.” I almost fucked that up.
“I can't go, because I don't have a passport.” I have no idea if that lie is gonna hold up. I don't even know if you'd need a passport to go across the border to Canada. At least the part about me not having a passport is true.
“Oh,” Donna says, frowns and looks down at her plate. I look over at Donald and see that he's frowning. I have no idea what the frowns mean. Well, Donald already frowns about 80 % of the times that I see him, so I don't really think much of it, but the fact that Donna is frowning makes me nervous.
“Would you like to spent Thanksgiving with us, then?” she asks, before she puts her fork in her mouth and starts chewing on a bit of pork. I smile. It's easy this time.
“I'd love to.”