You're Never Gonna Fit In Much, Kid.

Frank's POV

After cleaning up the blood on my face and my clothes, I walked down the stairs, to the front door where my bags sat.

My mom sat on the couch staring at the TV. The TV that wasn't even on. I sighed. I give up.

I shook my head, picked up my bags and walked out the door. She didn't move once.

Gerard was standing outside of his van, waving at me and smiling. "We haven't been apart for more than an hour since our first date. Well, kind of date."

I tried to smile back, "I know."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, let's just go."

"You sure?"

"No."

"Wanna talk about what just happened?"

"Later."

"Okay."

Gerard put the last bag in and closed the trunk, then we both got in the front.

"I'm sorry about your mom."

He then grabbed my hand and started rubbing circles around it with his thumb.

I felt butterflies fluttering around in my stomach and finally, I smiled.