Oh Baby Let Me In

December 12th, 1999
Friday;night

This guy could really talk.

And talk and talk.

Even if I could butt into the current conversation that was going on between the members of the Way family, I don't think I'd even be able to keep up with this guy.

"-I mean, have you even been feeding this damn kid?! He looks like he hasn't eaten anything in a month!" he laughed, resting the fork in his hand on his plate, his second helping of lasagna piled next to it.

He's always looked like that, what are you talking about? I smiled.

"Shut up Gerard. I'm not that skinny, so just leave me alone," Mikey rolled his eyes, trying to hold back a smile as he shoved a forkful of food in his mouth.

Gerard let out a high pitched noise, like a laugh of some sort, and then suddenly stopped to dig back into his food.

I looked around the table at Mrs. Way and Mikey to see if they took any notice of his sudden outburst, but both were engrossed in eating as well. The two seemed to just blow it over, starting up a quiet conversation amongst each other across the table.

I continued to look at the two of them, wondering why the hell they weren't staring at this guy like I saw. I suppose I was being overdramatic, but I mean really, who the hell makes noises like that?

I don't even think that I could go that high, and let me tell you, I can laugh pretty fuckin' loud and high pitched when I'm able to.

I smiled I dropped my gaze to my plate, pushing the few noodles and globs of meat sauce that were still left around with my fork, contemplating if I wanted to finish it or not.

Stabbing a piece of meat, I raised it to my mouth, lifting my gaze at the same time.

This guy intrigued me.

I mean, I've been friends with Mikey for a couple of years now, and I've never met his brother.

Mikey always said that he stayed in his room all the time, never coming out of his little space only when absolutely necessary. He said they had a good relationship; I could tell within the first five minutes of him being home. They didn't seem to agree on every little thing, but hey, that's what siblings do, right?

I mean, I wouldn't really know. Don't have any, and really hope to God my Mom isn't planning on having anymore. She can barely keep up with herself, and I can't see her trying to raise another kid like me.

Don't even think I could do it.

He had dark hair, black hair actually, that looked like it hadn't been washed in a week and it was constantly falling in front of his face. Sometimes he'd push it back, but it always seemed to fall right back to where it was. And sometimes he just let it sit there in front of his eyes, making me question if he was looking at me or at something else. His sunglasses seemed to hold most of it back from what I could see earlier up until Mikey's clumsy self had to go and knock them off when he practically tackled the guy in the doorway.

His clothes? Black.

All black.

It also looked like he's been hiding from the sun for the three months that he's been away. I mean, yeah, its winter, and I don't really go outside, but I'm not that white.

Almost -- vampireish.

Mrs. Way suddenly pushed herself away from the table, the scratching of the bottom of the chair on the linoleum floor making me jump in my own.

The fork that was in my hand CLANKED against my plate, bouncing down and landing between my legs on the chair. The steaming noodles that I was about to shove in my mouth were now burning the inside on my thigh, causing me to shoot up from my chair. The whole table shook as my legs slammed into it. I forcefully pushed my chair away from my legs, freeing my lower half from under the table and began almost swatting the food off of my pants.

I bit my lip so hard that I was sure to see blood later on, my throat burning as I tried to let out a scream that wanted to escape my mouth, but it wouldn't come out. I was bouncing around, shaking around my right leg to get the scorching food off while I was pulling the now hot fabric of my jeans away from my other leg.

"Oh dear!" Mrs. Way cried, rushing around the table. She snatched up a wash cloth that lay next to the sink and pushed herself past my abandoned chair. I stopped hopping around as she set her hand on my shoulder. "Don't you worry, there will be no stain in these pants if I have anything to do with it," she smiled up at me almost sympathetically; I did just kind of made a fool of myself.

But what she did next would completely blow over any chance of getting back my dignity for the day.

She knelt down in front of me, took hold of the side of my leg, gripping my pants and began to ferociously scrub at the sauce stain.

My eyes went wider than humanly possible as I stared down at her, my mouth dropping open as a small squeak found its way out. My hands, that had been sticking almost straight out from my body, found their way to her shoulders, but almost instantly taking them back, noticing how much more awkward that made this situation.

My head shot up to look at the two people sitting at the table, watching this whole scene play out.

Mikey sat completely still, his eyes almost as big as mine; his food abandoned and shoved off to the side. His lips were moving, as if he was trying to say something, but nothing was coming out.

Thanks a lot Mikes.

I shifted my glance to his brother, noticing that he hadn't said a fucking word in the last minute. He seemed so enthused to talk earlier, what about now?

My hips suddenly bucked backwards and I started coughing, covering up my urge to forcefully shove Mrs. Way away.

She was being a bit too rough with the cleaning and it was beginning to get more and more uncomfortable by the second. And I hate to admit that fact that this was getting me a bit -- worked up? Especially in that one specific area, and I could feel my face become considerably warmer as I thought about Mikey's Mom being the one that was practically feeling me up. Though she most likely won't ever see it that way, or at least I hope she never does; she seemed quite concentrated on her task at hand

"Mom! Mom--Jesus, leave the kid alone."

And so he speaks!

Mrs. Way abruptly stopped her violent scrubbing, turning to her son. "What?" she shook her head. "Oh nevermind. You!" she stood up, throwing the rag into the sink and pointing to Mikey, who's mouth was still half open, making her way out of the kitchen and towards what I could guess, the laundry room. "Go get Frank another pair of pants. Clean ones Michael!"

Mikey shot up from his seat, nodding frantically and bolted out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room.

I let out a breath that I felt like I had been holding in for hours and looked down to see a large red stain on the inside of my thigh. I sighed and rested my hands on the back of my abandoned chair, and closed my eyes to try to get my breathing back to normal. A small crash brought me back out of my own little world, my head shooting up once more.

I had totally forgotten Gerard was still in the kitchen, though he wasn't watching me like he was during the whole -- fiasco, it still felt a bit uncomfortable. I, in turn, watched him walk around the kitchen, picking up the dishes from dinner and dropping them in the sink.

"You know," he spoke, scaring me just like his Mom had did earlier, luckily nothing was in my hands to drop.

"Staring gets you into these types of situations," he smirked, turning towards me, leaning up against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

I froze, swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat.

He let out a small laugh, flicking his hair out of his eyes. "Don't think I can't see you behind all this hair."

His voice was so quiet that if I hadn't been listening so damn hard, I don't think I would have heard it at all.

"Frank! Go take off those pants! I'm going to get that damn stain out if it takes me all night."

I shut my eyes tight as Gerard burst out laughing, though attempting, and might I say failing miserably, to hold it in.

Oh my god, please kill me now.