Half Dead

Frank led the way to his bedroom; the door has a long cloth poster on it. It's of Bob Marley, "It was a gift." he says as of he has read my mind.

His hand is still clamped onto mine as he opened the door and exhales, "This is Chez Iero."

I smile and step in and I am in awe. From the floor to the ceiling, the room has posters of various bands I barely know. It's as if he found wall paper with his favorite bands. It amazes me, it's all smooth and together; "I do like all these bands, by the way."

I look around, I see a large desk with more than one computer on it; 3 laptops and 2 Mac desktops. He has a large stereo on a brown dresser with an array of CDs and knick-knacks. His bed has the only real bright color; the comforter cover, pillow case an sheet are tie-dyed. 

"It's funky," he lets me sit on his bed, "I like it."

I take my tablet; Why tie dye?

"It's cool. I did it myself." he sits down in his desk chair with wheels and spins, "I'm an amateur craftsmen."

I smile and shake my head.

"I want to make movies and write scores for movies. I have a guitar." he gets up and goes to his closet, "You're the first girl -aside from you know who- who gets to see it."

Frank comes back with his a black and white electric guitar scattered with stickers. He sits beside me, grabs a cord and sticks it in the guitar. I watch him turn on a small box that I figure is an amp, and let him put the guitar on my lap, "You want to try?"

I slowly shake my head and put my fingers on the strings. I never touched a guitar before, I'm afraid I'll break it. Frank puts his hand on mine, "The first song I learned was In Bloom by Nirvana."

I never heard that song before. I know three of their songs though; Pennyroyal Tea, Rape Me and Smells Like Teen Spirit.

Frank moves my fingers with his to play something. It's powerful as it comes from the amp. Frank murmurs the words, I don't understand them, so I can't really make them out. I feel that nervousness fill me as he gets closer. I swallow thickly and continue to follow his fingers. I try not to think as we finish, because I can't believe how close we are and how much my like for him is growing.

That stupid boy won me over.

"I'm not as good as Kurt Cobain was," Frank smiles and takes the guitar and sits it beside him, "You know who he is?"

I nod; I know Nirvana was a band before their lead singer killed himself. I used to watch MTV before they began running those 16 and Pregnant shows.

"Do you have a favorite band?"

I shake my head; I don't. I never really listen to music. I wish I had to know that song he played.

I grab my tablet and write; Play that song for me

Frank gets up and goes to his stereo; "I was listening to this album the other day."

I hear Smells Like Teen Spirit, but he skips it and the familiar guitar part begins. I like the song immediately because it now reminds me of Frank. I try not to be so obvious that I am feeling my stomach knot.

I've never felt this way before. I was a girl avoided and beaten up before Frank. Before all that, of course I liked boys, but boys ignored me. I always felt I'd die alone -as a matter of fact, I planned it. Now, here I am, in love with this boy who looks at me and smiles. He never grimaces unless he's saying something gross or dumb. I am in love with this stupid boy who I had I wanted to leave me alone.

"Did you like it?" he asks as he turns the stereo off.

I nod; It reminds me of you

Frank smiles, "Really?" I nod, "That's funny. Now it'll probably remind me of this moment."

I can't help but to write this; You make my stomach knot funnily

Frank's face twists as he reads it, "Really?" he says again.

I nod.

Then his face burst into a grin and his eyes twinkle, "You like me don't you, Vi?"

My face burns and I look down. Frank laughs softly, he sits beside me, "I like you too. Like, duh," he again laughs, "I call you wifey for a reason."

I don't know what to do

Frank shrugged, "Me either, but we're friends. We'll always be friends... Maybe one day we'll be more."

I bit at my lip and nod once. I don't know how to comprehend that thought. That thought of someone wanting me one day. 

One day, maybe, I'll be someone's wife. I could be a mom. I could be planning a wedding and a honeymoon. One day I could be picking out baby names with my husband. It's an overwhelming and frightening thought.

Frank takes my hand, "I actually... Uh, I'm trying to stop smoking."

I furrow my brow, and tilt my head. Why, I think.

"My mom says girls don't like to kiss ashtrays."

My eyes bulge. He wants to kiss me. He wants to kiss me, that's why he's trying to stop smoking.

You want to kiss me?

He blushes, "One day." he says shyly.

Im not a good kisser

He chuckles, "It's okay, I don't think I am either. We could try one day."

I clamp down on my bottom lip and try not to smile. I couldn't believe the feeling soaring through my body. I want to kiss that stupid boy. I really, really do.


My mom picks me up later that evening after eating with Frank. I hated going, but I had to. I gave Frank a hug and followed my mom beneath her umbrella, to her car. 

She saw my smile, "You had fun?"

I nodded.

"I'm so happy you made friends, Violet." she kissed my cheek and then drove me home.

Now, I'm lying in my bed looking up at the ceiling. This is the first time I don't want to be alone. I want Frank.

I grab my iPad and open up the iChat and send Frank a message; i don't know if you're on but I just wanted to tell you that I had fun with you today

Any other time, I would be fearful at the thought of sending a message of this manner. People before have printed them out and made fun of me with their friends the next day. I have to remind myself that that wouldn't happen.

Me too I can't wait to do it again, sweet dreams, wifey

My heart swells up and emotional, happy tears roll down my cheeks. These kind of tears rarely ever come. It's such an abnormal feeling that should be normal.