Telegraph Avenue Kiss

"Frank? I think you're phone is going off." Gerard brought me away from the dirty thoughts I was having about him. I snapped back to reality and heard my Minority ringtone that was going off. I manuevered my cell phone out from my tight back pocket and it said I had a text from Kali.

Ah, Kali, the girl I was supposed to like. What wonderful wisdom could she bestow upon me right now?

'Hi frank. im bored. sup'

Text messages always bothered me because it was next to impossible to keep good grammar. But I was as guilty as anyone about bad grammar. Outside of school, when am I really going to use it?

'Not much. at waffle house with mikey and gee.' (Of course she's not going to know who 'gee' is...)

'U suck. im in history.'

'Ha.' (I'm at a fast food restaraunt questioning my sexuality, sweetheart. I think I have you beat.)

'Shut up. well g2g. c u 2morrow.'

I snapped the phone shut without replying and picked up the syrup covered fork that was lying in my plate. I wonder, if I stick this in someone's neck, will the sticky-ness of the syrup stop the blood from gushing out? It seems like it would.

"Hey, who was that?" Gerard asked half-heartedly. But of course he's not going to ask heartedly who I was talking to. He doesn't care.

"Um...a girl from school." I said quietly. I was honestly hoping that he would get jealous, maybe say something catty about her even though he's never met her. But that would never happen. I really shouldn't be drooling over my best friend's brother like this. It's not healthy.

"Oooh, Frankie's got a girlfriend?" he asked with a smirk that made his features colder, somehow less attractive. I clung to the last shred of straight-ness that I had left.

Find more flaws in this perfect creature. Maybe he has a third nipple, something that detracts from his looks.

If Gerard had any weird medical maladies, I'm sure Mikey would have mentioned them at some point in our lives. He was no good at keeping secrets. I let out a sigh that gave away how frustrated I was.

"Frankie, babe, what's wrong?" Gerard asked. I blushed at the pet name, even though it rolled off his tongue effortlessly, as if he used them with everyone. And for all I know, he does. For all I know, he has a secret axe-murderer wife back in New York that likes to prey on short high school boys who are attracted to her husband.

"Ah, it's nothing, Gee." I said. The nickname somehow felt wrong when I voiced it. But in a way that helped me.

"It's not about what Mikey said, is it? Because I don't think you're gay." he said. I winced and shrugged.

"I dunno. I guess it just bothered me..." I said quietly. I just can't seem to find my voice anymore. Even around girls that I really like I'm not this....dumbstruck. I've seen girls freeze up when talking to me, and never knew what the fuck it was about until now. Did I seriously do this to people? Does Gerard know that he does this to people?

Mikey ran back over to the table nearly gushing. He told us that he had a date with the waitress, whose name was Rebecca, this Friday. Gerard and I both congradulated him immensely for this, since both of us knew how shy he was normally. Maybe it was the pink hair that had him mesmerized?

After our food had disappeared, Gerard paid for us and we left the confines of the Waffle House to step out into the September sunshine. Immediately I felt released, and began hopping around excitedly, leaving all traces of my introverted and moody self back with the remnants of my chocolate chip waffle.

Gerard and Mikey were several paces behind me at this point, so I stopped my jumping and turned around. Gerard was getting scolded by Mikey for something, which I found very amusing. I giggled and put my hands behind my back.

"Yeah, tell him off, Mikes. Wait...what'd he do?" I asked. I searched my brain for the most immature thing to say at this moment before either of them got the chance to respond. I gasped and put a hand over my mouth melo-dramatically. "Did he fart? Ew, gross. I'm gonna go all the way over there since you two are being disgusting." I told them, pointing across the road.

Gerard followed where my hand was pointing, and his eyes lit up. "Yeah, let's go there!!!" he exclaimed, not bothering to deny farting. I looked over and realised I was pointing to a Claire's. Omibob. I fucking love that place, though I'd never admitt it to anyone lest I lose my masculinity.

Soon, Mikey and I were being forced across the road by Gerard. We even stopped traffic. Yeah, that's how amazing Gerard's looks are. Or maybe those people were afraid of us stealing their car's souls and using them to summon the dead...? Either way...

Have you ever seenthree boys two teenage boys and an adult dressed in all black rummage through the earrings at Claire's? Well, apparently the poor blonde girl at the cash register hadn't. But that's what we were doing. Gerard and Mikey were holding earrings up to my ear, testing to see how I looked. When I suggested that one of them get their ears pierced, Gerard turned three shades paler and shook his head vehemently.

"Noooo, needles are scary. Besides, I'm bored with these now. I'm gonna go look at the rings." he said, then turned on his heel and practically skipped to the fore-mentioned jewelery.

"Gerard is terribly afraid of needles. He thinks you're a freak of nature because you have your ears, lip, and nose pierced. Plus the tattoos." Mikey told me. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, that's lovely. What were you mad at him for earlier?" I asked. Mikey flinched.

"Oh, nothing. He was just being a fruitcake like usual. But he's my brother, so I'm used to it." he answered. I tilted my head to the side and glanced over at Gerard. He had his brow furrowed in concentration as he held two shiny things I guessed were rings in his hand. He must have been having a hard time choosing between them. But I must admitt, the boy does have a sense of style. Even if it is the cross between an emo girl and a transvestite vampire.

"Fraaannkkiieee..." I heard Gerard say my name lightly. I don't know exactly how you say something lightly, but he managed it. It sounded like his voice drifted on the air, and could be blown away and lost forever if a gust of wind entered the store.

I made my way over to where he was at and bumped my hip against his when I got there. "Yes, pumpkin-face?" I asked. He frowned and looked over at me. Obviously he didn't get the reference.

"Why pumpkin-face, you ask? Well, you look like Billy Corgan. Now, what is it, Gee?"

He held up a ring similar to his. It was silver, and had a pink gun on it. A sparkly pink gun on it, in fact. I think it was made out of fucking rhinstone or something. And I wanted it so bad. But what if he had brought me over here to tell me how atrocious the thing was?

"I'm gonna get this for you, 'kay?" he asked.

"What?" I thought I hadn't heard right.

"I'm," he pointed to his chest. "Getting this," he pointed to the ring. "For you." He poked me on the nose. I gasped and grinned like a maniac.

"Really???" I squeaked. When he nodded, I jumped up and latched myself to him. I heard him laugh and he hugged me back tightly. When I let him go from my death-grip, he sauntered over to the register. There's no way a person's ass can look that good when they're simply walking. He returned back to me and dropped the ring in my hand. I was kind of hoping he would put it on me...yeah, like an engagement thing. But he didn't, so I slipped it on my ring finger, still feeling like it meant something.