You Give Love a Bad Name

I stared back at him, the only sound that could be heard was the water dripping agonizingly slow from my hair to the wooden floor.

Finally I looked away. "Thanks for staying with me last night. You shouldn't have."

"I wanted to."

"But your party -"

"All of them were too drunk to notice that I was gone anyway. It doesn't matter."

"Oh." I bit my lip, pulling the towel tighter around me and trying to find the right words. "Well, I better, uh -"

"Yeah..."

It was almost funny how awkward this situation was. You couldn't cut the tension with a chainsaw, never mind a knife. Both of us wouldn't look at each other due to the fact that I was only clad in a scandalously short towel. For the first time that I knew him, Frank looked truly nervous around me.

Pushing aside the horrific thoughts of him finding out about my stupid crush that somehow still hasn’t gone away, I realized that I would be creeped out too if kid-sister-material was parading around in a towel.

Still examining the Way family portrait that was hanging on the wall with an old, maroon-colored wallpaper that had a unique pattern, Frank stepped away from my door, letting me through.

"Think fast!"

I turned my head, but before I could move a muscle, a wet towel hit me square in the face. I groaned and peeled it off, ignoring the obnoxious laughter. "You're a prick, Bryar."

"Takes one to know one," Bob retorted gleefully, picking up shards of glass from the otherwise-soft living room carpet.

"I think this is one of those times when this comeback just makes you look like an idiot," Logan's good-natured voice carried over from the other room.

I threw the towel back at Bob. "Owned."

Not only was today the beginning of a new month, November, today was also a strategically placed Teacher Work Day, which meant that the students of Belleville High School had a day off to do whatever they pleased. Every student besides a select few, that is.

It's been two hours since we started cleaning the house, and Gerard, Bob, Logan and myself had made little progress. The cleaning would have been done a lot faster if Ray and Frank didn't go to Guitar Center to check out Les Pauls, and if Melanie and Mikey didn't run off to suck face somewhere. They were now an official item, and both were just glowing with happiness earlier this morning. With four extra bodies missing, the cleaning was taking longer, and whenever I thought about all the sweeping, wiping, and de-toilet-papering that was ahead of me, I nearly fainted all over again.

Thankfully we still had a couple of hours until Mom came home.

"I need a break," I groaned finally, after another thirty minutes of scrubbing a wall on which some idiot wrote 'Hail Satan' in a blood-red Sharpie.

"So Lena," Gerard started, coming from the kitchen with a can of Root Beer in his hands. "Guess what?"

"I dunno, GerBear," I replied, eyeing the soda with envy, "you feel bad about ditching school, so you brought that Root Beer to your thirsty little sister to ease your guilt?"

Unlike my high school, Gerard's School of Visual Arts was fully open, and Gerard had a class in the wee hours of the morning, which he did not attend.

He rolled his eyes, taking a sip. "Moron. You know that guy who you passed out on?"

I crossed my arms, tilting my head to the left, trying to remember him. All I could think of was that he was blond, blue-eyed and tall. "What about him?"

"Don't ask me why, but he thinks you're hot." Gerard made a face at me, like it wasn't a sixteen year old girl that was standing in front of him, but a ten-headed, drooling monster. "What do you say to a blind date, kiddo?"

"I'd say 'no'."

Now it was Gerard's turn to cross his arms. "Why not?"

"Besides the fact that I associate blind dates with rapists and psychos? My boyfriend wouldn't like it much."

"Your boyfriend?" Gerard raised an eyebrow. "When did that happen?"

I shrugged and came up to him, taking the can of Root Beer from his hand and taking a sip. "Last night. Do we have any more soda? I'm parched."

But Gerard was ignoring my question. "Last night? Really? Why the hell didn't Frank say anything to me?"

I gave him a weird look, thinking about Frank's sour expression when he walked in on me and Logan hugging. "Um, well, maybe he thought I should be the one to break the news? Just an idea."

Gerard grabbed me by the shoulders, smiling happily and making me choke on the soda. "I knew it! I knew you guys would get together!"

Coughing, I tried to push him away. "That makes one of us."

Gerard pouted, a strand of his hair falling perfectly across his face. In my opinion, when your brother had the best hair in the family, it was just plain sad. "Why? You guys are perfect for each other! All those long years of friendship just -"

"Wait," I stopped drinking and looked at him with confusion. "Who are you talking about?"

His expression matched mine. "Who are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Logan."

Gerard stared at me. "Are you serious? You're dating Logan?"

I nodded. "Yes. Why are you...I mean, who did you think it was?"

Gerard sighed and took back the can of Root Beer, walking away. "Never mind."