Oh Baby Let Me In

December 17th, 1999
Wednesday;afternoon

"I didn't know you swung that way Mikes. Welcome to the club," I laughed, throwing my cigarette across the lawn.

I watched Frank's eyes widen and Mikey roll his eyes, and almost laughed once more out loud. It's not everyday that you hear something like your best friend’s big brother being gay, huh?

At least now I know that people don't think I'm that flamboyant at first glance.

"Nope, sorry. Though I might want to join if you give out free shirts." Mikey laughed.

I rolled my eyes and kicked at the snow before commenting. "You're a nerd."

Mikey shuffled around a bit as I watched his friend out of the corner of my eye. He kept playing around with the strings on his hat and he needed to move his hair out of his eyes. It was bothering the hell out of me, but I figured he would find it weird if I moved it myself, so I instead distracted myself with staring down at my shoes. "So what brings you out on this fine day?"

I shifted my weight to my other foot and went to explain that I was headed out to Toro's house, but was cut off by a short, high pitched giggle. My eyes shot down to Frank, who now looked like he just saw a ghost and immediately looked up at me. His eyes didn't leave mine for a couple of seconds, but then all of a sudden it looked like he zoned out a bit, his eyes dropping to the snow. I squinted, trying to figure out why the hell he got so freaked out.

I raised the bag in my hand, my eyes still on him. "Toro's. Haven't seen him in a while and I have some drawing's I want to show him."

Frank moved his eyes to Mikey and they nodded to each other. "Gerard's an artist. That's what he went to college for. He's actually really good at it."

I fucking hate compliments or I just don't take to them well. I guess I would say the latter of the two actually. "Not really. Mikey's just a little overdramat--"

Mikey began squeaking, his glasses almost flying off his face and he bounded up from his seat. My eyes traveled back to Frank as he began rambling about me teaching him art lessons. I knocked him upside the head for him just offering my time to teach his friend how to draw and second for his stupid comment.

"--Oww! Fuck you!" Mikey cried, clutched the side of his head as he pushed his glasses back up his nose.

I threw out a small smile, before dropping my gaze to Frank once again. He was staring back up at me, and it was then that I realized that he was waiting for my answer.

I nodded a 'Sure', before quickly changing my mind and began stumbling over my words like an idiot. "I mean, if you wanted. It doesn't matter to me or anything."

I mentally slapped myself. Why the hell would I even say that? 'It doesn't matter to me'. I sounds like a fucking douche bag now.

But when I watched Frank nod, with a small hint of a smile on his face, that didn't make me feel as bad.

++

"God damn it! Way to be a fuckass, dipshit!" I shouted to the confines of my car, the 'fuckass' that had cut me off had already sped away and wouldn't have heard my creative nickname anyways.

I let out a long, almost strangled groan as I quickly accelerated around the block, continuing to rant to myself about how he was 'costing me gas money' and how I have 'absolutely no patience for idiots like him'.

After my small little 'detour' throughout the outskirts of Bellville, which took much longer than necessary because I only lived a few miles away, I finally arrived at my destination.

The infamous Ray Toro'snot so shabby one bedroom apartment in real shitty part of the city. Ray was my age, and unlike me, moved out of his house after he graduated high school. Not that he didn't get along with his parents, no. It was nothing like that.

I only met Ray through Mikey, when they had both worked at Barnes and Noble, when we were both in our senior year. Ray and I hit it off almost instantly, becoming good friends that is, you know, the ones that are constantly at each other's houses and never really at their own? Yeah, you could say he was one of my best friends, and I believe he was one of the biggest factors of me getting through high school. He and Mikey actually. Mikey kept me together at home, while Ray did that same at school.

Okay. Story time here.

I was the kid at school that everyone made fun of. The one nobody cared to acknowledge and the one nobody cared to help. Growing up, you always thought it was the 'cool' thing to be the popular ones in school, you know. The ones that everyone knew and the ones everyone wanted to be. Could you believe I was popular back in high school? Everyone knew who I was. They all knew my name; you might recognize it as 'Boom Boom?' Or sometimes it was 'Thunder Thighs'. It really depended on the day, or what mood people were in. Nobody wanted to be me though. Alongside the name calling, I was constantly getting beat up and attacked.

For the first three years of high school that went on. I suffered at school, and then I went home and did the same. I never told my parents what went on; it's not like the school called home about what went on there. I just didn’t want them to worry about me. They didn't care one bit about the fat kid that got sent to the nurse nearly everyday, and I believe they knew that I never told my parents because I was continuously beaten and nothing was changing. I did, though, cry my heart out to my little brother one night my sophomore year after I began to almost loose it. He had noticed that I was getting smaller over the past months and cornered me about it one night. I ended up telling him everything; from the name calling, to the beatings, and also about how I had begun starving myself to loose weight when I wasn’t even that big to begin with. I cried all night, and not for one second did he leave my side. I cried about those who treated me like shit at school, and also for those who didn't, because they never did anything to prevent it from happening. I cried for Mikey too. He was only in sixth grade at the time, and he cared for me more than anybody else.

My senior year began, and even though I had lost some weight from the previous years, the nicknames that I had been given stuck with me. Mikey had begun eighth grade, and still wasn't in the same school as I was. He did though find me someone I could stick with that was in my own grade. He had gotten some small part time job from our Mom, who knew the woman who ran Barnes and Noble, and that is where he met Ray Toro. When Mikey introduced us though, we didn't 'click' like he had hoped. I had recognized Ray from school; him being one of those kids that sat in the background and didn't dare step up and tell those who hurt me to 'back the fuck off'. I didn't take a liking to him one bit; that was until he did do what I had hoped and dreamed about for the last three years of my life; stick up for me. The guy he clocked in the middle of the hallway was actually sent home because he had messed up his nose pretty badly. The assholes that thought it was so much fun to kick my ass began realizing that I might actually have friends to defend me, and because of what Ray did to that kid, they began to leave me alone. Me and Ray have been friends ever since.

Sitting back against my torn, crappy, plastic covered seat in my small, crappy, dent covered car, I smiled slightly. I might not have the perfect life, but I sure as hell have a pretty good one. I have people who care, and love me for who I am. Though there always feels like there is something missing; perhaps someone.

I shook my head, closing my eyes for a few moments before letting myself exit the car with my drawings, and make my way into the apartment building and up to Ray's floor.

I grinned as I approached A23, lifting my fist up and began to frantically pound on the chipped wooden door.

"Hold on! --fucking, hey! Give me a fuckin' minute, alright?!"

I stopped my beating on his door, not to obey by his command, but because I could barley hold myself up any longer. My ribs ached, and my lungs called for air as I almost fell to the ground laughing. I tumbled forward suddenly; the hand that had been resting on the door lost its place as it swung open, my body coming into contact with another.

"What the fuck?! --Gerard?" Ray's voice sounded vicious at first, but upon noticing it was me collapsed against him, his voice lost its bitchy tone and he loosened his grip around my forearms.

"Yeah, dickface. Were you gonna kick my ass if it wasn't?" I laughed and I stood up properly, taking a good long look at the guy standing in front of me. Woah, did his hair get large. Ray has got to have the poofiest hair you'll ever see, and he's damn proud of it too. Don't you dare make fun of the fro, or you'll get kicked in the shins.

I watched Ray roll his eyes, before pulling me to him in a hug. "Oh shut it. It's not everyday I get a creeper banging on my door, now is it? I have to get defensive sometimes."

"Whatever man. Just be happy I came and saw you. Some jackass cut me off on the way here," I pulled away from him, poking him in the chest and trying to act serious, but failing miserably. "I almost turned around and went right back home."

Ray laughed, shaking his head as he closed the door behind me. "Don't lie Getard. You missed me and you know it."

I smiled innocently, scrunching my face up and kicking my leg out like I was a four year old girl. "No way. Boys are icky!"

Ray snorted, knowing full and well I thought the complete opposite, and I dropped my character instantly, drooping my shoulders and staring at him with a bowed head. He snapped his mouth shut, shooting me a smile. "What?"

I rolled my eyes, waving my hand. "Nothing." I looked up, smiling once more. "Can we leave the entry way now?"

++

"Ray Ray, you still have your computer?" I shouted, though it wasn't really necessary because of how small the apartment actually was, as I stood in the small kitchen.

Ray entered the kitchen from the living room, scratching his head with one hand while the other held one of the few drawings I had brought with me. I sat on the counter next to the fridge, guzzling down a Mountain Dew like there was no tomorrow. Stressing out in the car really makes a guy thirsty.

"Yeah, it's in my room. Gerard - these are really good you know. This looks so much like Mikey, it's unreal," he trailed off, motioning to a door right outside the kitchen.

I hopped down, making my way towards it, Ray following. "I know," I pushed open the door, making my way through his messy room to his computer on the other side. "I think I'm gonna give it to his for Christmas or something. I'm pretty sure he'd like it."

"He'd love it," Ray smiled, pushing a button on the monitor to get it to turn on. "So, what do you need this for?"

I opened a new internet tab, slowly, but surly typing in www.wikipedia.org into the top bar. "I need to look up a few things."

Upon bothering Mikey a few nights ago about his friend Frank, I had also taken it upon myself to begin talking to my Mom about him too. And what I got out of her was two words, which I began typing oh so slowly into the search bar.

'selective mutism'