Troubles

I sit in the back and keep doing what Brian told me to do. Yesterday, I put everything on shelves so Brian could easily find things. He was real proud of me. Today, he actually allowed me to put string on a guitar. He had to redo it, but he appreciated the effort, he said.

But the fact that he was so proud of me yesterday, simply for putting things on shelves, is still fresh in my mind. I can feel it in my chest. It's like I'm taller and wider, suddenly. I feel like I could run a marathon, even though I've never been in very good shape. I just feel proud of myself – something that's new to my life.

I slept at Brian's place. He lives just around the corner in a small one-bedroom apartment, but he had extra sheets and stuff, so I stayed on his couch. He didn't ask any questions. He just let me sleep.

This morning, though, he asked a lot. He asked me if I went to school; where; how my grades were; if I wanted to go to school today; if I needed to. But he didn't ask me what was wrong.

I think he's already guessed what's wrong, or that he at least has a suspicion about it. Last night, he told me the phone was in the kitchen. I didn't call anyone – that should be a clear sign.

Or maybe he just thinks I've run away from home.

I don't even have a home. If I did, I'd never run.

I always knew Brian was a cool guy, but that he's this cool and this generous has just blown my mind. The fact that he let me stay, gave me breakfast and let me stay home from school, just because I said I wanted to, proves that he's an amazing friend.

I hit the tuning fork against my leg and then hold it up to my ear. I listen to the vibrations, then play a chord on the guitar. I tighten the string and play it again. This time, it sounds better.

Brian told me he'd play on all four guitars at the end of the day to check if I got it right. I think I have, but I'm not sure. If I haven't, I'll make sure to clean the guitars on the wall extra thoroughly.

I still can't believe I lost my girl. I still get jittery when I think about the fact that the wall is right on the other side of the wall to my left. But then I think about how she's not there anymore, and I get this suck in my stomach. It sorta feels like I've been punched in my gut or had my lungs ripped out through my throat. I feel so...empty.

It's sort of the same feeling I get when I think about the Ways. I let them down, I just know it. I can imagine how they feel right now; they're probably worried about me and think that I'm sitting on a street corner begging right now, but I'm not. I won't stoop that low again.

I feel guilty for worrying them like that. If I had their number, I would call them and leave a message on their answering machine – just to tell them that I'm alive. I could just look them up online or in a phone book or something, but then I'd just start thinking about what I would say and how they would react, and then my stomach would start to ache because I'd think about their reactions and how Gerard would probably-

My throat hurts, so I swallow down the little saliva I have in my mouth and focus on getting the tone right for the next string.

I know I feel so incredibly guilty for leaving Gerard. Not only is he waiting for an answer, but he's also...just...waiting. For me. To show up.

I don't know what I feel for him. I can feel my stomach react when I think about him – sort of like a stab in my gut – but I don't feel...gitty. There are no butterflies in my stomach and I don't feel like my entire body is tickling.

I've never been in love, but that's what I've heard it should feel like.

And I don't feel it.

So I'm not in love. At least not yet. Maybe I could fall in love with him eventually, but if I'm not in love with him now – after knowing him for 2 years, almost 3 – then how can I possibly think I would be able to fall in love with him, just because I might start calling him my boyfriend? It's not like calling someone something just magically makes you feel like they truly are that to you.

I'm not making any sense.

The point is; I'm not in love. I can't possibly be. When I think of him, I get that feeling in my gut, simply because I know him and he's a good friend and I'm proud of that. That's it.

“Frank!”
I look up and see Brian come around the corner. He looks concerned, but before he can say anything someone comes in after him.
Gerard.

“Frank!”
Brian turns around. Gerard looks relieved.

“I told you to wait out there,” Brian says angrily and points towards the shop. Gerard doesn't seem to hear him and just stares at me with a faint smile on his face.

“I was so worried.”

“Frank, who is this?”
I look over at Brian who's now facing me again, then quickly back at Gerard and then at Brian again.

“It's Gerard,” I say. I don't know what to call him, really. If I call him a friend, I'd hurt him. If I called him my boyfriend, I'd...feel weird, I guess. And it's not like we've even established if we really want to be or could be boyfriends, so I don't wanna say it yet.
Brian sighs, looks over his shoulder and then back at me.

“Just keep your voices down, okay? Your friend here already caused one scene, I don't want another.” And with that, Brian leaves. And with that, I feel much more awkward. I didn't call Gerard my friend, but Brian just did.
I look up at Gerard. He's still smiling with a relieved look on his face.

“I was so worried,” he says quietly. His smile seems a bit more forced now, but maybe that's because I haven't smiled yet.
His smile fades.
I feel guilty and look down.
“Why didn't you come home?” I play with a string, running my finger along is and make it squeak.

Then the word suddenly hits me: home.

I don't have a home. The home Gerard mentioned is his own, not mine. The only place I've been able to feel anywhere near home is when I sat with my girl and played, but now I'm sitting with a guitar I've never even seen before, playing with a string like I used to do with her, only now; now, there's no emotion. I feel nothing.

I put the guitar away and get up.

“I don't have a home,” I say and look up at Gerard. I just snarled at him. Why did I snarl at him?

Gerard's smile is quickly wiped off his face and he looks shocked. He suddenly sucks in a breath and his eyes become moist.

It's like a kick in the gut. He knocks the breath out of me and it kinda makes me nauseous.

I look away and try to find something to do, but all the things are neatly stacked on the shelves and the guitars are in holders.

“You can have a home,” Gerard says with a shaky voice.

I take down all the picks from one shelf and put them on the chair I was just sitting on. I then take all the polish cloths and put them on the shelf I just cleared. I don't have a reasonable explanation. I'm being completely unreasonable. I just don't wanna look him in the eye.

“Is this because of what I said? About liking you?” I turn to the chair – turning my back to Gerard – and take the boxes of picks.
“I wasn't lying. I like you. Is that so wrong?” I stack the picks on the shelf. It's stupid that I put them there. Now, I can't reach the cloths when I'm sitting on the chair with a guitar in my hand, and Brian will have to bend down to get a new pack of guitar picks. I'm gonna have to redo this.
“You told Mikey – what, 3 years ago – that you were bisexual. Has that suddenly changed or something?” He's being too loud. Brain will get mad.
I turn my head and look at his neck – I don't wanna look him in the eye.

“Keep your voice down,” I whisper. Again, there's a slight snarl in my voice. I can't help it.
Why am I so mad at him?

Gerard sucks in a breath. I can tell he's about to say something, but he stops himself. I turn my attention back to the cloths, stacking them up neatly.

I hear him sigh heavily; his breath shaking slightly before everything goes quiet for a second.
I sigh myself.

“I, I'm,” I say, tripping over my words. I close my eyes.
“I've never been in love. I've never liked anyone...like that. I just-” I stop myself and turn to face him. I sigh and then look him in the eye.
“I'm just not the kind of person who falls in love.” I tell him. I stare into his eyes, trying to make him understand that it's the truth. I've never been in love. I don't even know what it really feels like. All I've heard is that you get butterflies in your stomach every time you see the person you're in love with, and even though it can be uncomfortable at times, you still want to see them all the time.
I've truly never felt that way.

“Where did you sleep last night?” Gerard asks. I frown at him. His face is completely blank and his voice is cold and emotionless.
I shake my head and think of what to answer him.

“At Brian's,” I say – or ask – and point at the wall, as if I was pointing at Brian.
Gerard just nods.

“Good. Then you have somewhere to stay,” he says arrogantly and indifferently, before he turns around and walks out of the back room. I frown, look around confused; desperately trying to understand what just happened. Is he just leaving me?
What?

I go after him. When I exit the back room, Gerard is pushing the shop door open.

“Gerard!” I yell through the store. I quickly go after him, going outside and turning the way he did.
“Gerard!” I yell again. He doesn't turn around. He just keeps on walking with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his shoulders drawn up and his back slightly hunched.
“It's got nothing to do with you!” I'm about to yell 'it's me', but I stop myself before I blurt out the biggest cliché ever. It is me, but right now, it's also him. He's just leaving me.

I laugh.

“What? You're just gonna leave me?” Just a few minutes ago he was freaking out about not knowing where I was, and now he's just leaving me? How contradicting can he be? How hypocritical is he? How the fuck can he be so selfish?

I'm about to open my mouth and yell something more, but I stop myself. Even though him leaving me is the worst thing possible to do to me right now, I know that yelling at him won't do any good. It won't make anything better.

Nothing will.

I turn around, but I'm stopped by Brian.

“Hey, come here,” he says and pushes me down the street a bit, until we're away from the windows of his store. He grabs my shoulder and makes me face him.
“I told you not to cause another scene.” I close my eyes and am about to sigh.
“I think you need to take a walk,” Brian says. I look up, shocked.
“Come back when you've cooled off, alright?” he says, then lets go of my shoulder and walks back into the store.

When the door falls shut, I notice it's chilly out here. It's probably only 50 degrees out here, and it's just past 4pm, so it'll only get colder. But I won't go back in and get my jacket.

I walk away from the store feeling guilty. I disappointed Brian. I hurt Gerard. I messed up the logic of the shelves.

I fucked up.