The Center

Frank:

“Hey, Gerard!” I said, my tone almost a little too chipper. I clear my throat and try again. “Uh, sorry I ran into you. I guess I wasn’t really paying attention…” I laughed, nervously. It felt really strange to be happy to see this guy. I didn’t really know him at all, but he was the first familiar face I’ve come in contact with in what feels like ages.

Sue me for being lonely.

“Oh, uh, it’s-it’s okay…” he mumbles. His eyes dart all over and his hand reaches it’s self to the back of his neck. “I could have been more careful, too…” he says quietly. One side of his mouth twitches up into a makeshift half smile as he finally sets his eyes on me. Just like the last time, I can tell he doesn’t mean it. Unlike last time, though, I understood why he seemed to be so vacant every time I tried having a conversation.

I got it. And I felt sympathetic. And I was still a little lonely, with a whole rest of a day to kill.

Once I’d felt like standing there for an awkward moment was enough for me, and he hadn’t scurried away yet, I tried one topic I knew we both had in common:

“How’s Sebastian?” I asked, shifting my weight from one leg to the other.

“He’s… He’s fine…” Gerard replies slowly after another awkward moment, as if he’s unsure about his own answer. He directs his gaze over my shoulder at the order counter and purses his lips. I shift my weight again and wait, hoping he had something to finish saying.

His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

He seemed really torn between trying to be polite to me and running away again. I felt kind of guilty, putting him in this situation. He was like me, probably coming here to the Garden Café to have a quiet meal and some thinking time before he had to go back home to a crazy like. And here I was, bothering the shit out of him.

Just as I was about to check out and leave him be, he started up again.

“I really need to, uh, eat. I-I know you just, you were just going but-but you could sit, if you wanted?” He offered, his lips pursing again. My eyes blinked in shock. Did this guy just tell me he wanted company? My company?

He wasn’t blushing and he didn’t really seem nervous to be around me. The best way to describe Gerard was unsure. Everything he said, every movement he made, he just seemed to second-guess whatever he did. All the time. Or, well, all of the times I’ve come into contact with him…

I nodded my head and gave him back that half-assed half smile. “Okay, yeah. Sure.” I looked around and saw the table I sat at before was still empty. Obviously, though. We’d been standing in the doorway for minutes and no one came in or out. I gave another nod toward the table, showing him where I was going to go, and he gave another nod back, showing me that he understood.

I settled myself in as he ordered, and I noticed the cashier girl was watching me like a hawk. I decided to look at my shoes instead. His food was ready in minutes, due to the simple fact that this place was practically dead. I looked up to see Gerard stumbling over my way. He got himself a grilled cheese with fries and a peach iced tea, like me. Once he sat down, I straightened up in my seat.

For a brief second, the thought ”Why did I agree to sit here?” crossed my mind.

But then I shook it off. What could staying here, with Gerard, an extra half-hour hurt? I blankly watched as he seemed to absentmindedly play with his French fries or occasionally took a small bite of his sandwich. My tattooed fingers took to tapping the table.

“He likes movies, like Disney stuff. He watches them with my brother sometimes, or my parents. He likes watching things with them…” Gerard told me, very quietly. He was staring into the basket that held the remnants of his food. He seemed as vacant as ever, but that statement told me so much.

“Well, do you ever get to watch movies with him?” I asked, truly curious. Hopeful, even, for both of their sakes.

He blinked down at his now half eaten grilled cheese and mostly gone fries for a seconds and then looked up at me. “I… no. No, Sebastian and I never really get to watch movies together…” he said, his tone a guilty one. I couldn’t help but let out a sigh at this. The guy and his kid barely have any quality time together.

”But was it by Gerard’s choice?” I thought.

The question popped into my head. I couldn’t be sure of the answer though. And if it were the case, I wouldn’t really be able to understand, but it wouldn’t surprise me much. It was sad, but it was a reality. I read books, I watched TV, I lived life. When a person’s spouse dies, the child that the had together reminds them of their deceased loved one. It’s not fair for anyone, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles.

It must be tough.

“It must be tough,” I sympathized, finally.

“It’s just… I work a lot. I work all of the time. If I’m not working… well, then I’m writing. But, but I can barely write…” He whispers the last part after pushing his scraps of food away from him, toward the middle of our table. “I haven’t written anything in months.” Gerard told me, still whispering. His stare was completely focused on the table, staring down very intently. “We don’t spend much time together anymore.”

“Anymore?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Immediately after the word came out of my mouth, I wanted to take it back. I wanted to hit my head against the window, or kick myself in the ass. I knew exactly what he meant, and instead of not bringing it up, I acted like a dickhead and asked. Owning up to being a coward, I looked away.

“We, uh, we used to spend a lot of time together,” He whispered, though it was loud enough for me to hear him clearly. “When I was writing more… I stayed home with him all day. We… we used to have fun…” He told me, still in a whisper, sounding more miserable by the second. “A lot of fun, me, Sebastian and…” he trailed off without finishing.

I knew what he was going to say before he stopped.

I knew who he didn’t want to talk about.

I knew how hard this must have been to even open up this much to me.

I knew how difficult this must be for him to revisit his past.

I knew I shouldn’t have said what I did a couple of minutes after we sat through a period of silence:

“I’m sorry.” I said, looking up. Gerard’s elbows were propped up on the table, and his hands were clasped together in front of his face, hiding it. Just as I was looking up, though, he was looking up at me, too. And he was confused. His usual blank expression contorted into a very confused look. He lowered his hands and leaned forward.

“Sorry? What are you sorry about?” He asked, a suspicious tone to his voice.

Aw fuck.

“Well, I… I know, about your wife… A-and I know it must be really tough… And I’m sorry…” I said, slowly. I winced, though, when the curiosity turned into shock. And then anger. I shrunk into my seat.

“What?” He hissed. “What do you know?” He asked me, but before I could finish he asked another question. “How the hell do you know anything about me?” He went on, his voice getting louder by the second.

“I-I-“ I stuttered, but was cut off.

“You don’t know anything about me! You don’t know anything about Sebastian and you don’t know fucking anything about her, got it?” Gerard shouted, slamming his fist on the table. I didn’t even bother trying to squeak something out this time. I was too ashamed of myself for bringing this all up in the first place.

Now I wish I would have gone to Starbucks for something to eat instead.

“Look, I don’t need your sympathy, okay? I don’t need your pity. I’m not a charity case and neither is my son!” He roared, his face as red as a ripe tomato and tears clamming up his face. He stood there, glaring at me, breathing heavily. I didn’t know what to do. I just sat there, embarrassed.

I knew he was furious with me.

I knew I deserved it.

I knew that everyone –and by everyone I meant the staff- was staring at us.

Gerard looked at me, his expression going from manic to pain, before he turned around and sulked out the door leaving me alone at the table. I watched him through the glass, he walked right past me, moving quick and frantically wiping his face with his hands. I only took a breath when he was out of sight.

“I’m sorry.” I murmured. It was meant for him.

“I’m so sorry…”

It was a couple of minutes before I could hear the people behind the counter shuffling around again, or before I felt the girl tear he gaze away from me. A guy came from out back and without even saying a word he took Gerard’s leftovers and threw them out. Another guy came out and unnecessarily swept the floor. I heard the door open and someone order hot tea.

I just sat there. I didn’t know what to do. So I sat there.

More people came in. Some people left. Workers shifts, new ones switched with them. The Garden Café got busier. It got louder. It didn’t feel like some vegan place anymore. It didn’t feel so out of the ordinary. I wasn’t so secluded any more.

Yet I felt more alone and shitty than I did before I came here.

I messed everything up and I didn’t know what to do.

The only reason I moved at all was because my phone went off, playing The Bouncing Souls again. I let out a heavy sigh and rolled my shoulder blades, easing up. I had been tense. I reached into the pocket that my chips weren’t in and pulled out my phone, noticing that I had a new text message from my mother. As I opened it, I ran my hand through my hair. I was shaking.

Ma (Mobile)
Received @ 5:47p
do u xpect me 2 mak u dnnr?

I had to laugh. Though my mom was very tech savvy, she was pretty lazy when it came to texting. She never spelt anything correctly and always used abbreviations. She didn’t care, it’s not like she texted people often. Mostly just me and Alicia. I shook my head and my mouth turned up into a forced smile. I wrote back: Sorry, Ma. I’m leaving now. After that was sent, I figured I’d might as well be honest with the woman and got up from the table after hours of moping there. I picked up my peach iced tea once more, shoved my phone into my pocket, checked to make sure that I still had my chips in the other, and then I was out of there. I kept my eyes on the ground as I walked, and when I got to my car I turned off the radio.

I wasn’t in the mood.

Thinking about it the whole way home, I decided I’d tell my mom everything. She’d be disappointed in me for not filtering my thoughts before I said something, but I was disappointed in me too, so that wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. Mom would listen to me, though, and that was important to me. I knew as lame as it sounded, I could always go to her for anything and she would listen to me. Afterward she’d probably tell me how much of a doofus I was if I had been at fault, but she would wait and let me tell my whole story beforehand.

Relieved to pull into the driveway next to mom’s car, I smiled a little, even if my stomach was grumbling. The probability of getting all of this off of my chest, and maybe even getting to talk with my mother about Sebastian made me feel better. I locked up my piece of shit car that I knew no one would steal and then walked up the front steps of the porch and opened up the screen door.

The minute I walked into the house, though, I knew I wasn’t going to get the talk that I wanted.

Before I could even call out “Ma?” the house was completely silent, even though seconds before I could hear laughter. I ran my fingers through my hair that needed cutting as I entered to see my mom propped up on the counter with a glass of wine in her hand and a cautious smile on her face that I knew all too well. I looked to my right to find Alicia sitting at the table, pressing her lips together and directing her gaze anywhere but at me, making me frown even more so than the sight of the stranger sitting next to her.

He must be Mickey.

He looked a little worried and unsure of himself, just sitting there in my mother’s kitchen. He seemed a little out of place, naturally, but he didn’t look too odd next to my cousin. In fact, in a happier scenario (much like the one they must have been in before I came home), I’d probably say that Alicia and Mickey were kind of cute together. He had this awkward gawky way about him, with his ironed hair and glasses, and she’s this tiny punk girl with make up that’s a little on the heavy side. I didn’t have much to judge of him other than his appearance, but I didn’t get any negative vibes.

I was a bit pissed, however, that they were here and not somewhere else so I could talk with my mother in private. But it wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. No one but my own.

I swallowed my pride, got over myself for a second, and cleared my throat. I crossed the room and held out a hand toward this kid, ready for a polite shake. His hands, one of which was holding Alicia’s and the other was almost clawing his leg, wiped themselves on his jeans. He looked really nervous, which in any other situation I would have found incredibly hilarious and cracked a joke at him, but I just gave him the best smile I could. I expected a flimsy shake because of his reaction to me, but I was surprised when his grip was nice and firm. He looked me straight in the eye, too, which broadened my pathetic smile just a little.

This kid was definitely one of the good ones. I didn’t need to worry about him at all. I could tell.

“Hey man, I’m Frank.” I introduced myself, taking my hand back so it could stay at my side awkwardly. His rested on his knees as he looked down for a minute before looking back up at me.

“Oh, hey. I’m Mikey…” he said, his voice deeper than I’d imagined it to be.

Mikey, not Mickey. I’d have to remember that.

“Nice meeting you,” I told him genuinely with a head nod, which he responded to with his own nod.

“You too,” he mumbled. I stood there for a moment. Alicia took his hand again and he looked to her, smiling. She smiled back, but I know that she wasn’t fully there. She was hiding something, both her and my mom.

“Well…” I started awkwardly, looking around the room. “I’m just going to head upstairs…” I announced, going to the freezer first to grab the first carton of ice cream I could find. I walked right past my mother and opened the drawer to get a spoon, shut the drawer with my hip and then went up to my room without another word from me.

The whole time I could feel everybody’s eyes on me. I knew they were watching me carefully.

They seemed worried.

I resisted the strong urge to slam my door, as we had company, and shut it almost soundlessly instead. I shuffled over to my bed, ice cream being pried open in the process, and before I could plop down the first scoop is being shoved into my mouth. I moaned softly, absolutely loving the taste of vanilla and caramel. In the second spoonful there was chocolate, which made me moan again.

Whoever said that ice cream couldn’t fix everything was wrong.

I had about five –or eleven- more scoops before I decided to take the cold temptation away from myself. Just because ice cream solves all didn’t mean I had to drown my sorrows in it and eat a whole container… even though I was very close to doing it.

I let out a heavy sigh, probably for the millionth time today, and threw myself back onto my mattress that hadn’t been made since I slept in the bed the weekend before even if I was always taught to pick up after myself. I rolled onto my left side, my knees curling up. Then I rolled to the opposite direction and stared off into space. I could hear voices from down stairs, faintly, but I couldn’t make out anything they were saying.

They were probably talking about me.

I closed my eyes and tried really hard to just clear my mind and focus on nothing. It felt like forever, but it must have only been in a minute’s time that I was interrupted by my cell phone ring going off. I let whoever was calling me to hold all the way to voicemail before I flopped onto my back, my eyes still shut. My head was pounding and I was grateful when The Bouncing Souls stopped playing.

And then it started again.

Groaning, I blindly reached into my pocket and fished for my cell. Whoever the hell this was better have a good reason for calling. On pure guess I picked a button that would allow me to answer the call and held it to my ear.

“Hello?” I asked, quite annoyed.

“Frankie! Thank god you answered! Jesus, I’m going nuts over here!” my best friend cried out frantically from the other end of the connection. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly for a minute and then opened them to look up at the MISFITS poster that was push-pinned to my ceiling just above my bed.

“Hey, are you okay? What’s going on?” I asked. Maybe I should have been nervous because of his tone, but if I was being honest with myself, I really couldn’t bring myself to even fake it.

“I may have a heart attack, but, yeah, sure, I’m okay.” He replied quickly, which concerned me a little bit.

“Whoah, Ray, hear attack? What are you talking about? What’s going on?” I asked him again. I could hear him draw a breath and then let it out slowly, making me just a tad more worried.

“I’m going to do it tonight…” He told me, quietly.

Do it?

“Do it? What? Do what, what are you going to do?” Now I was just plain confused.

Ray was silent for a minute before replying. “I… I’m going to ask Bob out tonight… I’m going to d-do it…” he revealed, timidly.

My eyes started to tear up.

“Really? Wow, that’s great Ray!” I told him, this time I tried to fake it as best I could.

“You think? I-I mean, I really really like him…” he told me.

He sounded happy. Really happy.

Tears were streaming down my face.

“Good for you, man. That’s great. I’m… I’m really happy for you both…” I said. I didn’t want to sound like I was crying, I didn’t want to be selfish, but I didn’t know what else to say.

“So you don’t think I’m rushing into anything, right? I just… I had to tell you before I did it.” He asked, and then informed me before I could answer the first question. I didn’t even get to say anything, though, because I heard a muffled knock. “Oh, jeez, I have to go. He’s here. I’ll tell you how everything goes. Thanks so much man! Ahhh!” Ray whispered and then hung up on me.

I hung up too and then dropped my phone.

Fuck.

As happy as I was for my best friend and Bob, this fucking sucked.

Now they’ll have each other. And Alicia and Mikey have each other. And even Zack and his dumb fucking girlfriend have each other.

Why am I the only one who’s fucking alone? Why am I the only one who’s frigan lonely?

I lay there on my bed, crying and pitying myself. All I kept whimpering was ‘Why’ this and ‘Why’ that.

I’m pitiful.

I couldn’t possibly find a reason as to why I felt to sad and secluded, or why no one else seemed to realize or care. I couldn’t figure out why no one else felt this way…

But- but then… But then I remembered. There was someone who may know how I’m feeling…

There was someone who just might understand…

He and I both needed friends…

And I wasn’t willing to give up until that happened.