You Give Love a Bad Name

I barely saw Frank the whole next week, which was not a big surprise since I was avoiding the guy at all costs - something that he seemed to be doing as well. And when we did run at each other during classes or during band practices, which were mainly at my house, it was like Prom all over again, the only difference being that the atmosphere was awkward instead of hateful this time around.

But, despite all that was happening around me, life went on, starting to seem relatively normal - or as normal as it could be - until Mom dropped a bombshell on me and my brothers on one gloomy Saturday, while the four of us were eating breakfast.

"Your Dad is coming with us to pick out a tree on Wednesday."

I heard something hard connect with the surface of the table, and looked up from my french toast and orange juice, my eyes connecting automatically with Gerard's across the table.

"Oh," Mikey breathed out next to me, his scrambled eggs laying forgotten on the plate. "When...when did you guys, uh, decide this?"

Slowly tearing off a piece of toast and brining it to my slightly parted lips, I looked at my mom, chewing and tasting cardboard in my mouth.

"Last Thursday," Mom seemed to be choosing her words carefully, completely ignoring the steaming cup of coffee that she was drinking a minute ago. "He will be joining us for Christmas dinner too. We think that a nice family dinner is just what everyone needs right now."

Cautiously, I looked at Mikey, who was staring at me with the same baffled expression on his usually serene features.

It was true that our parents stayed on friendly terms after they went separate ways, but we had yet to spend a whole day together. The five of us. Like it was before our lives went askew with the divorce. Dad didn't even come to Thanksgiving - or family reunion, if you want to look at it like that - although I knew that his excuse of being out of town was fairly legit.

My oldest brother picked up a napkin and started mopping a small trail of orange juice that spilled when he slammed his cup on the table. "How come he didn't say anything about that when we saw him last night?"

"Must have slipped his mind," Mom replied absentmindedly, reaching for her mug of coffee.

"It's a big thing to forget, don't you think?" Gerard observed coldly, picking up his fork and stabbing a piece of bacon that was cooling on his plate.

"I hope the three of you know that you are my world, as well as your father's, and that we will do anything to make you happy. That is what you want, right?" Mom looked up, her eyes wide with uncertainty. "To spend Christmas with your father?"

"Yes, we do," I reassured her, pushing my plate away a bit. "I think having Dad over is a great idea."

"Yeah," Mikey nodded, "it's just like..."

He trailed off, but we all know what he was thinking; just like old times.

"Lena, your friend is here!"

I sighed and closed the book I was reading, marking the page beforehand, and stood up from the soft and inviting livingroom couch, walking towards the front door with questions running through my head.

When I heard the doorbell ring, I automatically thought it was for my mom, seeing as Gerard and Mikey were at their band practice. Plus I didn't get a lot of visitors nowdays, mostly due to my off-hand moods wings and dream-like state, so I was curious to know who was the person that wanted to see me.

When I reached my destination, Logan stood on the doorstep, snowflakes sprinkled on his jet-black hair and clothes. He gave me a small smile.

"Hey," I greeted my 'boyfriend', closing the door behind him. "What's up?"

I haven't seen him since the day I found Gerard and Frank talking in Gerard's bedroom, so I felt a bit awkward looking at him now and knowing that he saw me in that weak state.

"I need to talk to you. Alone," he murmured, throwing a pointed look towards my mom's retreating back. "Is anybody else home?"

"Nope," I shook my head, motioning for him to follow after me. "Gerard and Mikey have band practice."

Neither of us said anything else till we were sitting on the couch in the basement, watching each other from the opposite sides with mild hostility.

"It's about Frank," he started after a couple dreadfully-slow seconds. "I think -"

I groaned and picked up a pillow, burying my face in it. I should have known that Frank was the reason Logan was here. It wasn't like him to ignore something as big as what happened to me last Friday.

"I don't want to talk about it." I said in a what I hoped to be a dismissive tone.

"I've been thinking about the whole situation," he began anyway, "and I think that you two should talk it out. I think you...misinterpreted what happened last week."

"I don't think I did."

"Well, I do."

"And I bet you think that he likes me too, right?" I snickered into the pillow, humored by the absurdity of the statement.

I felt Logan's hand rest gently on my arm. "Yes."

I looked up and into the striking gray eyes of the boy in front of me. "Then you need a reality check. I heard what I heard, and there is no way you can twist that."

Logan sighed and leaned away from me, withdrawing his arm. The spot where it touched my skin felt cold. "You're too stubborn for your own good."

"I can say that about you too," I pointed out, feeling guilty as he gave me a reproachful look, casting my eyes to look at the floor. "You need to give up on the whole 'Frank and Lena' idea, Logan. It's just not going to work. I like him, he doesn't like me, so I'm just going to wait till my... feelings go away, and forget this whole hormonal mess that my life has become."

"I still wish you would talk to him," Logan said once again, and I heard him sigh next to me.

I shook my head. "No."

I expected him to argue some more, but only silence greeted my ears. Confused, I looked up at Logan's face, only to see his horrified expression. I followed his wide eyes upwards and towards the top of the staircase, where Mikey stood starring at us, mouth practically touching the ground, a guitar case in hand.

Even though I was sitting down, I felt dizzy and faint, and my stomach felt like it was dropping into some unknown abyss of despair.

"Oh no, no, no," I whispered to myself, my throat feeling suddenly dry. "No, no, no."

The three of us stared at each other for at least a minute before Mikey cleared his throat nervously. "Um, I came here to put away my bass, but I can always come back later."

"Is...G-Gerard home?" I managed to stutter out, trying to look past my brother and into the slice of hallway that was visible through the open door.

"Um, no," he replied, looking uncomfortable, "he stayed at, uh, Frank's. Frank needed to talk to him about something."

"Oh," I breathed out in relief. If it was Gerard that heard this instead of Mikey, I might have as well went up to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and started stabbing myself over and over again.

"Um, should I...should I leave?" Mikey asked, backing up. "'Cause you know, I can always put this," he lifted up the case, "away when you guys are done talking."

"Oh, we're done," Logan said, turning to look at me.

"Mikey, shut the door and come and sit over here," I said barely audible, patting a spot in between me and Logan.

Uncertainty splattered all over his face, Mikey took a couple of steps down the stairs and towards the old couch.

I waited till he was seated and fiddling with the handle of his guitar case nervously to ask what was on my mind as soon as I saw him. "How much have you heard?"

"Starting with the part where you told Logan to give up on the whole Frank and Lena idea," he said softly, trying to look into my eyes. "Is it true? You like Frank?"

"Mikey, if you tell what you heard to anyone, especially Frank, not only am I never going to talk to you again, I will disown you. Do you understand?" I looked straight ahead while talking, ignoring Mikey's searching eyes and not answering his questions directly. "I can't have this stupid crush fuck up one of my most important friendships."

Mikey put the case on the ground and lifted up both of his hand in protest. "Hey, my lips are sealed. It's Gerard you should be worried about - he's the gossip queen around here. The guy can't keep his trap shut to save his life."

In spite of myself, I smiled. "And that's why I love you, Mikey."

Seeing at I was at ease, my brother started to ask questions. "Who else knows besides me and Logan?"

"No one," I said quickly. "You two are the only ones."

"And you're okay with this?" Mikey was studying Logan now with incredious expression. "I mean, that your girlfriend likes someone else?"

"Um, well, we're not really dating," I mumbled almost incoherently.

"I made her faux-date me to see if Frank would get jealous," Logan explained with a small smile. "It was supposed to be for two weeks -" he looked at me, "two weeks, right?"

"I believe so," I confirmed, nodding.

"- for two weeks, but I guess we never officially broke up," Logan finished, his smile turning into a full-blown grin.

"Oh Jeez," Mikey looked baffled. "It's like Belleville's very own soap opera. When are those reality show contractors when you need them? This shit is ten times better than the Real World."

I made a face, hitting him on the arm lightly. "If I would get my own reality show, that means the world would find out what a loser you are, so thank the Lord that it's not the case."

Mikey and Logan started laughing, and I knew that everything was okay. For now.