The Plague of Popularity

I awoke sometime later, wrapped in strong arms, a warm chest under my cheek, a soft heartbeat sounding in my ear. I realized I was in Gerard’s arms, I was in his room, in his bed; I smiled to myself. I hadn’t screwed this up—whatever this was.

He was amazing, more than he gave himself credit for that was certain. He didn’t question me; he didn’t give me useless comfort while I broke down earlier. He just let me get it all out, get it off my chest. I didn’t have to say anything; I knew he’d been there before. I felt horrible that I had him there for me while I dealt with this and he had no one. Well he had Mikey, but Mikey said he pushed him away—Gerard wanted to burden no one.

Mikey told me Gerard’s story; about his life falling apart and the night Mikey found him with a gun in his hand. He found out that night Gerard was only alive because he had forgotten to take the safety off of that gun. Donna doesn’t know about that, she just knows about the hardships at school. I think it would tear her in two if she knew her eldest tried to take his own life.

Linda would be ecstatic if I took my own life, she’d get everything I was entitled too. She could have it all for all I cared. The less I had the less I had to remind me of how much like her I really was. I glanced at the clock on Gee’s night stand, it was 7:36, I needed to get home. I shifted slowly, as to not disturb him—I got to sitting up before I felt his arms wrap around my waist and his head rest on my shoulder.

“You alright?”

“As I’m going to be. Thanks.”

I turned to him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. He brought his hand up, cupping my own cheek to turn my face towards him, placing a soft kiss on my lips.

I loved how all he had to do was touch me in the slightest way and I felt like everything was going to be alright. Nothing could go wrong, anything that was wrong disappeared.

“I need to head home; get my death sentence.”

He kissed my forehead.

“Don’t think like that Frankie. Mikes and me are here for you, ma won’t mind if you need to come back—I wouldn’t mind if you came back.”

I smiled at his sincere words, letting me know we were friends. I gathered my self, fixing my shirt and looking at his form, sitting in bed, his eyes longing for me to stay. I forced myself to turn as I said a small goodbye and went upstairs. Donna’s head poked from around the corner.

“Frankie, you hungry honey, I made you some veggies? I called your mother, told her you weren’t feeling well and that if it wasn’t a problem you could stay the night here again. She said something about going and seeing your father.”

I hadn’t meant to let out the growl; she questioned me with her eyes at my sudden outburst.

“Can I talk to you about something Donna?”

She nodded and I followed her into the living room where she had some re-run of Oprah on the television.

“I know I don’t really know you, but I need to tell someone something I found out and honestly, it’s not easy to say.”

She just nodded in understanding, waiting for me to speak when I was ready. I was used to just speaking as is, there were no pauses, what was meant to be said was said, there were no breaks, there was no time to think, feelings were not involved.

“My mom’s cheating on my dad and I know who the man is.”

I felt tears prickle my eyes once more in the span of a few hours. She pulled me to her, wrapping her arms around me, giving me words of comfort any normal mother would give her child going through a rough time.

“I, I know my dad wouldn’t believe me, he’s too blindly in love with her to care and, and she has control over everything I do, say—I’m her puppet and she told me last night that she wished she got rid of me. She’s ruining my family and another family and I care about the family she’s ruining with her cheater.”

I heard footsteps bounding down stairs and then into the living room.

“Ma, Frankie? What’s the matter?”

“Mikey just go back upstairs, please.”

I heard his footsteps retreat back upstairs and she continued to hold me and comfort me. So this is what a mom’s supposed to do when you’re upset; not mock you, tear you apart with every flaw she sees in you.

“Honey, I’m sorry your mother’s, well I can’t say I’m surprised. She always was the promiscuous one when we were younger. I’d thought she had grown out of it when she met your father. I know your mother’s not the best of examples or the best of friend, but let me tell you, you are not your mother. Don’t you ever for one second think you are. You wouldn’t have stayed here Friday night if you were on ounce like your mother; you’re welcome here anytime okay? You hear me?”

I looked up at her, she kissed my forehead and I smiled at her; not like I would with Gerard, but a genuine smile. Something I hadn’t done in a while. She cared about me and I’m not even her kid. She knew what kind of person my mother was—sticking up with it because of me it seemed.

“Thank you Donna.”

“Anytime honey, you sure you’re not hungry? You and Gee looked quite cozy so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She smiled at me, knowingly it seemed. I nodded, I was a bit hungry.

“Head into the kitchen and I’ll call for the Gee.”

She headed out into the hall and I heard her call for him, his footsteps coming up the stairs and into the kitchen were he looked shocked to still see me.

“I thought you left.”

“Apparently I’m sick and am staying here.”

He looked at his mother who just smiled as she pulled out the food she had made for us.