You Give Love a Bad Name

The following two weeks after Frank took me to Weequahic Park were spent on figuring myself and my emotions out.

On my part, anyway.

I took baby steps to the road of recovery. First step being me trying to figure out why I took my parent's divorce harder than anyone else not only in my family, but also out of all my friends that had dealt with the same problem before.

Gerard had a theory. He said it was because the divorce was the 'straw that broke the camel's back', so to speak. That my negative emotions were building up inside of me much longer than I realized. He even told me his list of reasons that gradually built up to my downfall;

1. Last boyfriend was an asshole.
2. Fight with Frank after Prom.
3. Three months of hating Frank's guts.
4. Laurie moves away to Utah.
5. Pressure of school.
6. The divorce.

He actually wrote the list out and gave it to me this Wednesday, after he found me and Frank talking in the kitchen about my progress and such.

I guess it made sense. That the only thing that did anyway, because everything else seemed to become more confusing as the time wore on.

My friends, for example, took me back like I haven't ignored them for an extensive amount of time. Melanie and Cara even arranged for the tree of us to go out sometime Sunday, which just made me realize that Frank was right about everything. Especially about the fact that I couldn't just shut the people that I cared about out of my life.

And then there was Frank.

He came over every day after school, just like he promised. He would try to put a smile on my face every second that we were together and most of the time he succeeded. We would watch movies, listen to music, do homework, anything really, but with him it was twice as fun.

Around five, Frank would grab his backpack, kiss me on the cheek, and go to pick up Manda from her volleyball practice so that the two of them could catch up on those three hours that they spent apart. Whenever I heard his car pull out of my driveway, I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach that grew every time he said "Goodbye". I was slowly becoming dependent on him for my happiness, and it was scaring me to death.

Today was the same as it was yesterday, the day before, and the day before that. Frank and I sat on my livingroom's couch, watching There's Something About Mary, one of my all-time favorite comedies. Well, he was watching it anyway. I was watching his profile. Something about him changed, but no matter how hard I racked my brain for an answer, I couldn’t put my finger on it. I didn't tell him about my observation for I feared that I would look stupid.

I shook my head slightly, trying to bring myself out of my thoughts and back to reality. As the room came into focus, I realized that I was still staring at Frank, who was sitting on the other side of the couch.

But this time he was staring right back at me.

I smiled weakly and looked away, cursing silently at myself. Only I would be stupid enough to zone out when my eyes were on something besides the television.

After about two minutes of trying to watch the movie, I could help but feel someone's eyes on me. Seeing that Frank and I were the only people in my house today due to the fact that Gerard was still in school and Mikey was hanging out with Bob, there would be only one person who's stare was penetrating my flesh.

I turned my head to the left and sure enough, chin propped up with his right hand, Frank was studying my face, eyebrows furrowed and a small pout playing on his lips.

"Yes, Frank?"

He blinked and his mouth relaxed a little, but he still looked somewhat confused. "I don't know. You tell me. I want to know why you've been looking at me like I grew an extra head lately."

I gulped and turned back to the TV screen.

What could I tell him? That ever since that day in the park I've been seeing him in the new light? That it felt like for the first time in my life I began too see him as other people see him now, and not as the small, childish Frank from when we were kids? What could I tell him if I didn't know what I was thinking or feeling myself?

"Lena?" His voice was insistent.

Those stupid butterflies in my stomach came back again, and I had a hard time deciding if they from my nervousness about having a lack of answers, or because of the fact that Frank's hazel eyes haven't left my face for a while now.

"Um, I have no idea what you're talking about," I lied, still facing the TV.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Frank roll his eyes and stand up from the couch.

"Where are you going?" I asked, quickly turning to face him.

He stretched and put on the hood of his hoodie so that the black material was covering his eyes.

"It's five o'clock. I need to pick up Manda from her volleyball practice," he told me, picking up his backpack and swinging it across his shoulders.

Of course.

I stood up and started to walk towards the front door to see Frank out, something that became a routine during the past couple of weeks. By the sound of footsteps behind me, I could tell that Frank was following a couple of feet away.

I stopped in front of the front door and waited for Frank to catch up to me. When he was finally across from my slightly slumped form, Frank flashed me a small smile, his lip and nose rings shining from the light above our heads.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he informed me, sliding his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Tomorrow?" I repeated genuinely confused. As far as I knew, he and I haven't made any plans to hang out.

"Band practice from eleven to four," he replied, biting his lip. "I'll see you later, kiddo. Tell Gerard to call me when he gets home. Fucker never picks up his phone anymore."

I nodded and waited for him to open the door.

Instead of doing so, he eloped me in a bear hug. I grinned and put my arms around his back, burying my face in his shoulder. His grip on me tightened and I closed my eyes, feeling relaxed but extremely alert at the same time. I could feel my heartbeat accelerating and the smell of Frank's aftershave was making me lightheaded.

Finally he pulled away, leaving me dazed and confused with pounding in my ears.

"Take care," Frank whispered, kissing me on the cheek.

I stared after him as he walked out the door, not daring to move a single muscle. After hearing his car pull out of our driveway, I blinked and slowly made my way up the staircase and to my room.

Shutting my bedroom door behind me, I sat down on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest and burying my face in my toy rabbit Puffin.

I was wrong. Frank didn't change, but I did.

Those feelings that I experienced when he hugged me were definitely not ones of friendship. And that scared me beyond reason.