His Fingertips Have Memories

Bob started at the ceiling fan spinning in circles as he lay in his bed. He was so confused. He thought he was over Amy. Obviously he wasn’t, if after two years he felt the same exact way. He closed his eyes, but he wasn’t tired anymore. It was 12 in the afternoon, and he could not fall back to sleep. He woke up twice before, but drifted off to sleep because sleeping was so much easier then being awake. When he was up, he had so many confusing thoughts and feelings to deal with, but when he was sleeping, he didn’t have to worry about his feelings or anything. Most guys turned to alcohol and drugs to get this feeling, but Bob just went to sleep. He sighed and laid there. The phone rang, and immediately he thought of Amy, hoping it was her on the other end. He read the caller ID. Fuck. It was his girlfriend, Krista. They hadn’t spoken since Amy called. They get into a huge fight because Bob had gotten so worked up about Amy coming back to town. Krista got really upset, saying he still had feelings for her. Bob told her she was out of her mind. They got into a huge fight that resulted in Krista telling him he was a dick and slamming a door in his face. But maybe she’s right. He thought. Maybe I still do have feelings for Amy. Bob was in denial, he knew he still loved her, but refused to admit it. Bob let the machine get the call, but Krista didn’t leave a message. He lay in bed until 1, and then the phone rang again. The called ID told him it was Frank. He answered.

“Hello,” he answered groggily.

“Dude, you’re still in bed? You better have a girl over.”

“Nope, just me.”

“Wow, you fuck. Get the hell out of bed, stop whining, seriously. Just go to Amy tell her you love her and you two can live happily ever after. You’re starting to depress me.” Bob groaned. “That’s it, Buddy.” Bob heard Frank shout Gerard’s name.

“No, don’t. I’m fine. What are you doing?” he asked nervously. He was actually scared of Frank. No one knew what went on in his fucked up head.

“Bye, Bobbert,” said Frank.

“Frank!” shouted Bob, but Frank had already hung up. Bob groaned and rolled onto his stomach. He pulled the covers over his head and just lay their, hopefully he’d fall back to sleep. Even though Bob someone managed to slip into a light sleep but was awaken by voices. Gerard and Frank. Why did I give the guys keys to my apartment? He flipped over to his other side. Maybe I can pretend to not be here and they won’t see me.

“BOB!” said Frank; his tone was filled with excitement. Bob didn’t reply. He felt his bed shift under Frank’s weight.

“Frank, get off!” he shouted as he kicked at Frank. Frank ignored him and crawled next to Bob. He tried to lift the covers, but Bob clung to them.

“Fine, we can do this the hard way,” said Frank as he climbed on top Bob and laid on him. Bob heard Gerard laugh. Frank’s head was leaning on Bob’s shoulder.

“Gerroff,” mumbled Bob.

“Come on sweet checks,” said Frank as he tired to pry the covers off from Bob’s head, “Open up.”

“How many times have you been slapped for saying that to a girl?” asked Gerard, as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“More times than I can remember,” said Frank with a laugh. “Dude, come on, wakey wakey, eggs and bakey.” Bob just wanted to be left alone. He pinched Frank in the stomach. “Ha, do you like it rough?” he asked, as tickled Bob. They wrestled for a bit, Frank trying to remove the covers, Bob trying to push Frank off of him. In the end Bob won and pushed him off and sat up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Can’t you just leave me the hell alone?”

Frank was lying on his back next to Bob, he was out of breath.

“Oh Bob,” he said, as he lifted his hand to touch Bob’s face, “You were amazing.” He laughed at himself, and so did Gerard.

“God, you’re such a freak. Do you know that? You’re a sick fuck. Both of you just go away.”

“What? I wasn’t good enough for you?” asked Frank, Gerard was trying to conceal his laughter.

“Stop! Okay? I’m not in the fucking mood,” said Bob, anger boiling.

“That’s not what you said a few hours ago,” said Frank. Gerard was in hysterics by now.

“I really hate you. Both of you,” said Bob. He threw the covers into Frank and crawled out of bed.

“Don’t take out you’re suppressed feelings on us.”

“Wow, suppressed, that’s a big word for you Frank, did you hurt yourself?” snapped Bob.

“Bobbert, please. Don’t be mean,” whined Frank, “We’re only trying to help. I wanted to make you happy; you’ve been SO depressing lately.”

“I’m not talking to you, you fucking rapist.” Frank lifted his hands.

“I will pay for your therapy sessions okay? Just don’t be angry. Just be Bob again. Gee and I don’t remember the last time you were happy. No one does.” What the hell was he saying? He’s always been Bob. And he had been happy, when he was helping Amy move into her apartment, he was smiling the whole time. He signed as he pulled a clean shirt on over his head. Bob grabbed clean boxers and jeans and went into the bathroom to change.

“So,” shouted Frank through the door, “We were thinking about a guy’s night out. How about it?” He couldn’t remember the last time he hung out with the guys.

“Come on, Bob,” shouted Gerard, “No girls whatsoever.” Bob heard Gerard ask Frank if he really just said that. Bob smiled; a night with the guys is just what he needed. He came out of the bathroom.

“As long as you don’t hit on me or anything,” said Bob with a smile.