Absolution
Chapter Two, Part Two
It was a bit cooler outside, but still just as bright as it had been before Art. I noticed the college had paid people to get rid of the leaves, as many of them were pushed into large piles throughout the campus grounds. They had not yet been bagged, but now every step did not cause those annoying crunches. Instead, you could hear people across campus laughing loudly, talking into cell phones or to their buddies they were walking to class with.
It only took me a few minutes to get to my class. It held 200 people in it and I always sat in the back corner, so as not to be messed with. Occasionally the random kid or two would talk to me but usually I was left alone to my thoughts.
The teacher began his lecture on the true meaning behind Hamlet at exactly 12:00 and 00 seconds. He was an extremely old man and had balding short gray hair. His voice was monotone and excruciating. I sat in a stupor, staring down at my worn out notebook and flipping through the pages of Hamlet without even seeing the words. My mind was elsewhere. More specifically, on one Frank Iero.
How much did I really know about him? I didn’t know why he was in college at the mere age of sixteen. I did not know if he had any siblings, although I was fairly sure he didn’t. Did he like cookies? I knew he didn’t eat meat—was he vegan? Or only vegetarian? Cookies or cake? Soda, juice, or water? Was he a morning person or a night person? What was his original hair color even?
I sighed to myself. There was so much I wanted to know about him, but I couldn’t ask. It would have looked weird if I had been like ‘Hey, Frank. A few questions. Boxers or briefs? Soda or juice? Morning or night?’ I wouldn’t like to be put on the spot like that, having someone simply ask me what I liked.
Then again, Frank and I were exact opposites.
“This essay is to be approximately eight pages. You must include character traits and how they relate to your topic, as well as events that happ—.”
I screwed my face up in boredom, wanting nothing more than to be at home watching TV. Hell, even cleaning the house. Mom always liked it when I did shit like that anyway. I laid my head on my desk, eventually falling into a restless sleep.
That Night…
“Come on, Gerard. Don’t be a pussy. It’s just one night.”
I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the rough voice on the other end of the phone line. “I don’t feel like it, Bert.”
“Why the hell not? Four months ago I was good enough for you; four months ago you would have shot someone if I’d asked you to.” Bert hissed angrily.
This is what you get when you try to make decisions for yourself. I opened my eyes, massaging my forehead. “I’ve got a headache. I don’t feel like having sex tonight.”
“What about tomorrow, then?” he questioned impatiently.
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t know.”
“I hate when you say ‘I don’t know.’ We all know what that means, Way, and that is that you won’t do it. How are you going to turn me down? I made you what you are today.”
I didn’t even have an answer to that. I didn’t have the faintest idea what he was talking about.
“Are you there, goddamnit?” Bert ranted. I could see his blue eyes in my head, staring angrily at me in disgust.
“Yeah, I’m here.” I sighed, sitting myself down on my bed. I was in my room, in the dark. Only one ray of sunshine entered my room, and it was dark out so there was no light at all. I could only make out the 11:47 PM red flashing numbers on my alarm clock across the room.
“I’m sick of this. I thought we had a deal, a relationship-thing.”
I scoffed, without thinking. “Relationship ‘thing?’ This is based entirely off of sex and drugs, McCracken.”
“Fuck, I know that. You’re like my little whore.”
I hung up the phone and hurled it across the room, glaring in its general direction. He didn’t have to say it so blatantly, did he?
The phone began ringing again, but it was a different ring tone. One that was set for people not in my address book. I stormed over to it, answering it. “Bert, fuck you. Fuck you. Quit calling me—.
“It’s Frank.”
All the blood rushed to my face.
“Gerard? I found that book, you know? Er… the one you found my address in. Yeah, this is Gerard isn’t it?” I heard him say. The phone seemed to be hanging lifelessly in my hand at my side.
I swallowed and held it to my ear. “Hey, Frankie.”
He let out a little laugh. “I had it too, buried in this folder with my college registration stuff… so I guess that makes me as lame as you, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t think you ever called me lame…” was what I said. Smooth, Gerard. Real smooth. If only my heart would quit beating so fast, maybe I could think straight. Then I could sound suave, cool. Unlike me.
“Well it is pretty lame that we kept it. I bet we’re the only ones.” He laughed again. I liked his laugh, I liked it a lot.
“I guess so…” What was I supposed to say?
“So, who is Bert?”
“Oh, God… I’m sorry.” I moaned, sinking back down onto my bed. It creaked loudly into the otherwise silent room. “Just someone I know… who you should never have the pleasure to meet. He’s a dick.”
“Oh… well, I’m not him obviously. I already said I was Frank, right?”
“Yes.” I felt myself smiling and I noticed was calming down.
“Okay.” He sounded cheerful. “My parents just left and I was bored… so I thought I’d see if you wanted to do something. If you don’t want to its okay. I’m just bored.”
“You said that.” I laughed.
“Yeah, I did, I guess…” he fell silent.
Oh, right. I guess I should answer him. I took a deep breath.
“You’re busy, it’s okay—.”
“When do you want me to pick you up?”
We both spoke at the same time and he laughed again. Was he nervous? He was laughing a lot. Maybe he’s just really happy, I don’t know.
“You can? Great! Uhm. You can pick me up whenever you want. You know the way, right? Well you’ve been here before. Sorry, I’m rambling—.”
“No, no… I’m on my way now, alright?”
“Okay. Bye.” He hung up, sounding genuinely happy. To spend time with me. God, would he be angry when he discovered how lame I am outside of school.
I turned on my lamp and went over to my closet. I had to look good—as good as I could, at least— whenever I was with Frankie. He was so beautiful that everyone around him should look pretty, just to not distract from his prettiness.
Prettiness? What has gotten into me?
I pulled on jeans and a Misfits T-shirt, and then jogged up the stairs. Without telling anyone where I was going, I grabbed my keys and headed out of the door. I was twenty-one; they didn’t need to know anyway.
It only took me about ten minutes to get to his house. When I got there, he was sitting outside on his porch looking up at the stars. He was just in a pair of black pajama pants and his hoodie I frequently saw him in. I got out of my car and walked up his yard, standing at the three steps leading up his porch.
“Hey.” He smiled, hopping up. “What do you want to do?”
“We can go in your place if you want.” I shrugged. “Or I can drive us somewhere…”
He looked very thoughtful for a moment, before grabbing my arm and tugging me into his house. “I’ll give you the ‘grand tour.’ Ignore any butlers you see.” He winked at me, sliding his hand into mine.
My hand began to get sweaty, or maybe it was his. Probably mine, because now I was almost freaking out. All I could hear was the blood rushing through my body, like some fucking tidal wave in an ocean.
“This is the kitchen.” Frank smiled at me adorably. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes, well no. I’m not.” I shook my head.
“You said yes first. Instincts are always right. Whatcha want? Sit down, I’ll get you something. You’re my guest.”
“Do you really have a butler?” I blurted suddenly.
He began laughing, shaking his head. “No. We’re alone. Although there is this old man, Gary, who wonders into the house and tries to clean the fireplace. He’s really old though and Dad says he’s got Alzheimer’s.”
I just stared at him, blinking. “You have a house this huge and no maids or…?”
“Oh, we have maids. Two. But they go home at night. One comes in at morning, one comes in from like three until eight. Why?” he went to a refrigerator. It was huge and looked more like an ice room that you would find in a restaurant. He opened the freezer, reaching up to pull out a tub of ice cream. I got a glimpse inside. Frank was obviously one of few vegetarians/vegans in this house, as there were tons of pre-made hamburgers in bags.
“I don’t know. It’s interesting. You should see my place.” I shrugged, looking around.
“So, what were you going to say earlier?” he now had his back to me and was getting out scoops of ice cream, placing them into expensive looking blue bowls.
“I told you. Your shoe was untied.” I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant.
He handed me a bowl, nodding. “Sure.” He said sarcastically. He set the second bowl next to mine, and then moved to sit by me.
We fell into a comfortable silence. The only sound in the room was our spoons hitting the sides of the bowls. It didn’t take long for us to finish and when we did, Frank continued to sit silently.
I bit my lip, holding back a sigh. I was bad company. All I was good for was for five minutes worth of non-boredom. He probably wishes I would just leave.
He smiled at me and sighed softly, looking out the window.
“Sorry, I can…” I started.
He shook his head. “Don’t make it awkward… just sit here.” He looked at me, his brilliant green eyes peering into mine.
I opened my mouth to protest but fell silent, just looking out his window as well. It was nice out, pleasant.
His hand slid back into mine, his small fingers intertwining with my larger ones.
“Frank…” I began.
He interrupted me. “There’s something special about you, Gerard… I’ve always felt really bad about myself and… I know I talk a lot around you, but I don’t know why… I’m not always that way… but you make me feel okay…”
I didn’t know what to say. I gulped, staring at him. He was looking down at our hands. His was much tanner than mine.
“I feel right with you… almost like everything else is okay because in school I get to see you. I really look forward to it.”
I leaned over, on an impulse, pressing my lips against his. He froze momentarily.
Shit. You read the signs wrong. He’s straight. He’s going to hate you. He—
His lips tentatively pressed themselves against mine and he let out a small whimper before pulling away. His eyes were closed, and I was surprised mine weren’t.
“Well that kind of sums up the rest of… what I was going to, uhm, say.” He said breathlessly, and quickly looked away.
“Shit.” Was all I could seem to say. And I did say it. Several times.
He looked up at me, his eyes hurt. “Why do you keep saying that, Gerard?”
“Because you’re sixteen years old and I’m going to be twenty one in a month… Frank, you don’t know the first thing about me o-or what I do outside of s-school…”
“I want to know.” He whispered, looking down. He seemed several inches shorter with every word. “I—.”
“You don’t want to know me.” I said firmly.
“What’s so terrible about you? You’re so sweet, so shy… so quiet and mysterious.”
“Frank, I’ve had sex. I’ve had loads of unprotected sex… I’ve done every drug you can think of and more. Almost every morning I wake up with a hang over—.”
He was just looking at me, and there was shame on his face. “Its because I’m a guy, isn’t it? You’re not gay…”
Oh God. My heart was breaking for him. I walked over to him, kneeling so our eyes were level. “I am gayer than Elton John.”
He swallowed and I noticed there were unshed tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry… you’re just so… you… I need you to go now.” He stood and ran up the stairs. A few seconds later, I heard a door slam.
On any other day, I would have turned and left. But he had to understand, he had to know how I felt and why I was doing this. I went up the stairs after him and it didn’t take me long to find his room. It was the only door closed. Without knocking, I just came in. He was sitting on his bed, looking down.
“I can’t go until you hear me out.” I whispered, stepping in.
He shook his head, not looking up at me.
“I saw you that day in your yard and you were… you were different, Frank. You were so small and fragile… I’m not good for you.”
“Why do you have sex?” he looked up at me, his eyes staring into mine now.
“What?”
“You aren’t happy and someone in love should be happy… so why are you having sex?”
I walked to his bed, sitting by him. “I have sex because—.”
He had me there. The answer had been there. But then, I realized, it hadn’t been there at all. There wasn’t one.
“I don’t know.” I whispered.
“I’m not a ‘small and fragile’ baby, you know? I’ve had my share of bad times, Gerard. My mom threatens to disown me daily because of my lack of girlfriend.” He took a deep breath. “High school was too much to take... I got beat up all of the time because they thought I looked gay, or I dressed to dark… Like now… Pencey, everyone there… Neil, Sebastian… they think I’m this hilarious guy. I’m so funny… Half of the time I laugh is because I don’t know what else to say.
I’m not nearly as happy as I look. But something about you makes me want to be happy. I want to hold your hand all of the time, they’re so beautiful. You have really pretty eyes, Gerard. I don’t know, I usually don’t like quiet sensitive guys… but it is really appealing on you. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m not a baby and… I just wanted to get that point across.”
He lay on his bed, curling up and laying his head in my lap. I ran my fingers through his soft dark hair. I scooted away and lay down by him, wrapping one arm over his stomach. “I know you aren’t a baby but I still want to protect you. Even if that means protecting you from me.”
We were silent for a long while. Frank pulled my hand into his and we lay there on his bed in silence, in the dark. I buried my head in his neck, taking in his sweet scent of candy and mint toothpaste. And his ice cream.
“That was the most you’ve said to me since we met in September.” He whispered, his voice thick with sleep.
“Sorry.” I whispered back.
He squeezed my hand tightly. “Don’t be.”
It only took me a few minutes to get to my class. It held 200 people in it and I always sat in the back corner, so as not to be messed with. Occasionally the random kid or two would talk to me but usually I was left alone to my thoughts.
The teacher began his lecture on the true meaning behind Hamlet at exactly 12:00 and 00 seconds. He was an extremely old man and had balding short gray hair. His voice was monotone and excruciating. I sat in a stupor, staring down at my worn out notebook and flipping through the pages of Hamlet without even seeing the words. My mind was elsewhere. More specifically, on one Frank Iero.
How much did I really know about him? I didn’t know why he was in college at the mere age of sixteen. I did not know if he had any siblings, although I was fairly sure he didn’t. Did he like cookies? I knew he didn’t eat meat—was he vegan? Or only vegetarian? Cookies or cake? Soda, juice, or water? Was he a morning person or a night person? What was his original hair color even?
I sighed to myself. There was so much I wanted to know about him, but I couldn’t ask. It would have looked weird if I had been like ‘Hey, Frank. A few questions. Boxers or briefs? Soda or juice? Morning or night?’ I wouldn’t like to be put on the spot like that, having someone simply ask me what I liked.
Then again, Frank and I were exact opposites.
“This essay is to be approximately eight pages. You must include character traits and how they relate to your topic, as well as events that happ—.”
I screwed my face up in boredom, wanting nothing more than to be at home watching TV. Hell, even cleaning the house. Mom always liked it when I did shit like that anyway. I laid my head on my desk, eventually falling into a restless sleep.
That Night…
“Come on, Gerard. Don’t be a pussy. It’s just one night.”
I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the rough voice on the other end of the phone line. “I don’t feel like it, Bert.”
“Why the hell not? Four months ago I was good enough for you; four months ago you would have shot someone if I’d asked you to.” Bert hissed angrily.
This is what you get when you try to make decisions for yourself. I opened my eyes, massaging my forehead. “I’ve got a headache. I don’t feel like having sex tonight.”
“What about tomorrow, then?” he questioned impatiently.
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t know.”
“I hate when you say ‘I don’t know.’ We all know what that means, Way, and that is that you won’t do it. How are you going to turn me down? I made you what you are today.”
I didn’t even have an answer to that. I didn’t have the faintest idea what he was talking about.
“Are you there, goddamnit?” Bert ranted. I could see his blue eyes in my head, staring angrily at me in disgust.
“Yeah, I’m here.” I sighed, sitting myself down on my bed. I was in my room, in the dark. Only one ray of sunshine entered my room, and it was dark out so there was no light at all. I could only make out the 11:47 PM red flashing numbers on my alarm clock across the room.
“I’m sick of this. I thought we had a deal, a relationship-thing.”
I scoffed, without thinking. “Relationship ‘thing?’ This is based entirely off of sex and drugs, McCracken.”
“Fuck, I know that. You’re like my little whore.”
I hung up the phone and hurled it across the room, glaring in its general direction. He didn’t have to say it so blatantly, did he?
The phone began ringing again, but it was a different ring tone. One that was set for people not in my address book. I stormed over to it, answering it. “Bert, fuck you. Fuck you. Quit calling me—.
“It’s Frank.”
All the blood rushed to my face.
“Gerard? I found that book, you know? Er… the one you found my address in. Yeah, this is Gerard isn’t it?” I heard him say. The phone seemed to be hanging lifelessly in my hand at my side.
I swallowed and held it to my ear. “Hey, Frankie.”
He let out a little laugh. “I had it too, buried in this folder with my college registration stuff… so I guess that makes me as lame as you, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t think you ever called me lame…” was what I said. Smooth, Gerard. Real smooth. If only my heart would quit beating so fast, maybe I could think straight. Then I could sound suave, cool. Unlike me.
“Well it is pretty lame that we kept it. I bet we’re the only ones.” He laughed again. I liked his laugh, I liked it a lot.
“I guess so…” What was I supposed to say?
“So, who is Bert?”
“Oh, God… I’m sorry.” I moaned, sinking back down onto my bed. It creaked loudly into the otherwise silent room. “Just someone I know… who you should never have the pleasure to meet. He’s a dick.”
“Oh… well, I’m not him obviously. I already said I was Frank, right?”
“Yes.” I felt myself smiling and I noticed was calming down.
“Okay.” He sounded cheerful. “My parents just left and I was bored… so I thought I’d see if you wanted to do something. If you don’t want to its okay. I’m just bored.”
“You said that.” I laughed.
“Yeah, I did, I guess…” he fell silent.
Oh, right. I guess I should answer him. I took a deep breath.
“You’re busy, it’s okay—.”
“When do you want me to pick you up?”
We both spoke at the same time and he laughed again. Was he nervous? He was laughing a lot. Maybe he’s just really happy, I don’t know.
“You can? Great! Uhm. You can pick me up whenever you want. You know the way, right? Well you’ve been here before. Sorry, I’m rambling—.”
“No, no… I’m on my way now, alright?”
“Okay. Bye.” He hung up, sounding genuinely happy. To spend time with me. God, would he be angry when he discovered how lame I am outside of school.
I turned on my lamp and went over to my closet. I had to look good—as good as I could, at least— whenever I was with Frankie. He was so beautiful that everyone around him should look pretty, just to not distract from his prettiness.
Prettiness? What has gotten into me?
I pulled on jeans and a Misfits T-shirt, and then jogged up the stairs. Without telling anyone where I was going, I grabbed my keys and headed out of the door. I was twenty-one; they didn’t need to know anyway.
It only took me about ten minutes to get to his house. When I got there, he was sitting outside on his porch looking up at the stars. He was just in a pair of black pajama pants and his hoodie I frequently saw him in. I got out of my car and walked up his yard, standing at the three steps leading up his porch.
“Hey.” He smiled, hopping up. “What do you want to do?”
“We can go in your place if you want.” I shrugged. “Or I can drive us somewhere…”
He looked very thoughtful for a moment, before grabbing my arm and tugging me into his house. “I’ll give you the ‘grand tour.’ Ignore any butlers you see.” He winked at me, sliding his hand into mine.
My hand began to get sweaty, or maybe it was his. Probably mine, because now I was almost freaking out. All I could hear was the blood rushing through my body, like some fucking tidal wave in an ocean.
“This is the kitchen.” Frank smiled at me adorably. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes, well no. I’m not.” I shook my head.
“You said yes first. Instincts are always right. Whatcha want? Sit down, I’ll get you something. You’re my guest.”
“Do you really have a butler?” I blurted suddenly.
He began laughing, shaking his head. “No. We’re alone. Although there is this old man, Gary, who wonders into the house and tries to clean the fireplace. He’s really old though and Dad says he’s got Alzheimer’s.”
I just stared at him, blinking. “You have a house this huge and no maids or…?”
“Oh, we have maids. Two. But they go home at night. One comes in at morning, one comes in from like three until eight. Why?” he went to a refrigerator. It was huge and looked more like an ice room that you would find in a restaurant. He opened the freezer, reaching up to pull out a tub of ice cream. I got a glimpse inside. Frank was obviously one of few vegetarians/vegans in this house, as there were tons of pre-made hamburgers in bags.
“I don’t know. It’s interesting. You should see my place.” I shrugged, looking around.
“So, what were you going to say earlier?” he now had his back to me and was getting out scoops of ice cream, placing them into expensive looking blue bowls.
“I told you. Your shoe was untied.” I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant.
He handed me a bowl, nodding. “Sure.” He said sarcastically. He set the second bowl next to mine, and then moved to sit by me.
We fell into a comfortable silence. The only sound in the room was our spoons hitting the sides of the bowls. It didn’t take long for us to finish and when we did, Frank continued to sit silently.
I bit my lip, holding back a sigh. I was bad company. All I was good for was for five minutes worth of non-boredom. He probably wishes I would just leave.
He smiled at me and sighed softly, looking out the window.
“Sorry, I can…” I started.
He shook his head. “Don’t make it awkward… just sit here.” He looked at me, his brilliant green eyes peering into mine.
I opened my mouth to protest but fell silent, just looking out his window as well. It was nice out, pleasant.
His hand slid back into mine, his small fingers intertwining with my larger ones.
“Frank…” I began.
He interrupted me. “There’s something special about you, Gerard… I’ve always felt really bad about myself and… I know I talk a lot around you, but I don’t know why… I’m not always that way… but you make me feel okay…”
I didn’t know what to say. I gulped, staring at him. He was looking down at our hands. His was much tanner than mine.
“I feel right with you… almost like everything else is okay because in school I get to see you. I really look forward to it.”
I leaned over, on an impulse, pressing my lips against his. He froze momentarily.
Shit. You read the signs wrong. He’s straight. He’s going to hate you. He—
His lips tentatively pressed themselves against mine and he let out a small whimper before pulling away. His eyes were closed, and I was surprised mine weren’t.
“Well that kind of sums up the rest of… what I was going to, uhm, say.” He said breathlessly, and quickly looked away.
“Shit.” Was all I could seem to say. And I did say it. Several times.
He looked up at me, his eyes hurt. “Why do you keep saying that, Gerard?”
“Because you’re sixteen years old and I’m going to be twenty one in a month… Frank, you don’t know the first thing about me o-or what I do outside of s-school…”
“I want to know.” He whispered, looking down. He seemed several inches shorter with every word. “I—.”
“You don’t want to know me.” I said firmly.
“What’s so terrible about you? You’re so sweet, so shy… so quiet and mysterious.”
“Frank, I’ve had sex. I’ve had loads of unprotected sex… I’ve done every drug you can think of and more. Almost every morning I wake up with a hang over—.”
He was just looking at me, and there was shame on his face. “Its because I’m a guy, isn’t it? You’re not gay…”
Oh God. My heart was breaking for him. I walked over to him, kneeling so our eyes were level. “I am gayer than Elton John.”
He swallowed and I noticed there were unshed tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry… you’re just so… you… I need you to go now.” He stood and ran up the stairs. A few seconds later, I heard a door slam.
On any other day, I would have turned and left. But he had to understand, he had to know how I felt and why I was doing this. I went up the stairs after him and it didn’t take me long to find his room. It was the only door closed. Without knocking, I just came in. He was sitting on his bed, looking down.
“I can’t go until you hear me out.” I whispered, stepping in.
He shook his head, not looking up at me.
“I saw you that day in your yard and you were… you were different, Frank. You were so small and fragile… I’m not good for you.”
“Why do you have sex?” he looked up at me, his eyes staring into mine now.
“What?”
“You aren’t happy and someone in love should be happy… so why are you having sex?”
I walked to his bed, sitting by him. “I have sex because—.”
He had me there. The answer had been there. But then, I realized, it hadn’t been there at all. There wasn’t one.
“I don’t know.” I whispered.
“I’m not a ‘small and fragile’ baby, you know? I’ve had my share of bad times, Gerard. My mom threatens to disown me daily because of my lack of girlfriend.” He took a deep breath. “High school was too much to take... I got beat up all of the time because they thought I looked gay, or I dressed to dark… Like now… Pencey, everyone there… Neil, Sebastian… they think I’m this hilarious guy. I’m so funny… Half of the time I laugh is because I don’t know what else to say.
I’m not nearly as happy as I look. But something about you makes me want to be happy. I want to hold your hand all of the time, they’re so beautiful. You have really pretty eyes, Gerard. I don’t know, I usually don’t like quiet sensitive guys… but it is really appealing on you. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m not a baby and… I just wanted to get that point across.”
He lay on his bed, curling up and laying his head in my lap. I ran my fingers through his soft dark hair. I scooted away and lay down by him, wrapping one arm over his stomach. “I know you aren’t a baby but I still want to protect you. Even if that means protecting you from me.”
We were silent for a long while. Frank pulled my hand into his and we lay there on his bed in silence, in the dark. I buried my head in his neck, taking in his sweet scent of candy and mint toothpaste. And his ice cream.
“That was the most you’ve said to me since we met in September.” He whispered, his voice thick with sleep.
“Sorry.” I whispered back.
He squeezed my hand tightly. “Don’t be.”