Stereotype

By the time Frank and Marina got to Frank's house, they had changed the subject and were talking animatedly about funny Youtube videos. As the boy turned his back on his friend to lock the door, he didn't notice that she suddenly stopped participating in the conversation. Or that his mom was right behind him; light brown hair in a tight pony tail and a red apron on. He didn't see the exasperated look on her face or the silly smile Marina was giving her to try and soften her mood.

"Oh! And did you see the one where this girl tries to sin-" Frank stopped mid sentence, grinning and waving in what he thought was a cute way. "Hi, mommy!"

"Frank..." Linda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. There was a moment of silence that she broke again as soon as her son opened his mouth. "No, don't even dare ask me why I'm mad. You know."

"The shirt."

"Yes, the shirt. Haven't we agreed that you wouldn't wear these kind of clothes out of the house?"

"It was too hot, I'm sorry," Frank said. "I...I sweated a lot the whole day at school with the short-sleeved shirt, it's just so...closed. You know, the collar? So since we'd walk, I took it off. No big deal, mom, I'm fine, nothing happened."

"Stop saying it's not a big deal." Linda grabbed her head, pacing the living room. "It could be and then it'd be late to regret it. Where are you getting more of those shirts, by the way? I know you talked your dad into buying you the purple one at the mall..."

"I..."

"Frank Iero. Don't tell me you've been sneaking out of the house to go buy girl clothes." She placed a finger under her son's chin, forcing him to look into her eyes.

Frank opened his wide, shaking his head slowly. "No...no I swear, mom."

"Uh...Linda?" Marina interrupted for the first time. She had remained sat on the armrest of the couch. Frank's mother didn't like anyone contradicting her on certain subjects. Especially not a fifteen-year old. "You know when we went downtown with my mom a week ago? Frankie saw those shirts and loved them, said they had an awesome fit. He refused to buy one, though! So a few days after that I told my mom to do it, and I gave it to Frankie as a present for helping me with math. Sorry..."

"Marina...I know Frankie's been your best friend since forever and you love him. I know you just want to see him happy, but you shouldn't encourage him on this, kid."

"Mom, don't..."

"I'm talking to her, Frank," Linda shut him up.

"But Linda, I don't think it'd be good for Frankie to..." Marina attempted to expose her opinion, but Linda's face said she was choosing the wrong words.

"I'm his mother, I know what's good for him. I'm trying to protect him and you should help me. You should talk to him, he'll listen to you. Lately he's been...rebelling too much. He keeps doing things that will only catch people's attention more. On top of what he wears, he shaved his legs! And now he walks back from school practically fully dressed in girls clothes in spite of all the times I told him not to."

"Let the kid wear whatever he wants, Linda, he's old enough to decide," her husband threw in as he walked past them. He didn't even stop to look at her as he continued towards the kitchen.

"You hush, Tony!" Linda demanded loudly. "We got to this point in big part because of how you spoil him and let him do whatever he wants. You and your stupid hippie philosophy. You think you're doing something good for the boy? I wanna see what you'll say the day something terrible happens to him. You can't ignore all the violence and intolerance in this world. You've seen what happens to kids like Frank, yet you-"

"MOM! Stop it, dad's not to blame, don't fight!" Frank whined, accepting Marina's embrace and clutching to her.

"We're not fighting, Frank," Linda corrected. "You father needs to face reality for once. He goes against everything I say!"

At that moment, Anthony emerged from the kitchen with a can of Coke in his hand. He stood in the middle of the room, surveying the scene with a tired expression.

"Oh, there you are! I know you heard me, don't ignore me!" Linda barked.

Anthony rolled his eyes and puffed, opting for silence. It was what always worked best with his wife, and Frank knew he also didn't like to argue in front of him if it could be avoided.

He moved to where Frank was still hidden in Marina's arms and ruffled his hair, whispering in his ear, "I think you look pretty," before kissing his head and walking away.

"I don't understand how your father can think problems are going to disappear if he ignores them, seriously, I-"

"Mom, it's okay. I won't wear this shirt or any similar one out of the house, I promise," Frank interrupted, eyes on the floor. He then sniffed loudly and took Marina's hand. "Come on Mar, let's go to my room."

Linda felt his chest tighten all of a sudden. She rushed along the short corridor and up the wooden stairs, intercepting the two teenagers in the middle of it and standing in front of them.

Startled, Frank looked up, and the pressure in Linda's chest turned into sharp pain. Frank was crying; thick tears ran down his small face while fresh ones emerged. He hiccuped, seeming ashamed, and Linda couldn't suppress a sob. Her son almost never cried, it was a real rare occurrence. It had a lot to do with the fact that he generally was a very happy boy. He had a positive attitude and didn't easily let anything or anyone bring him down. But he was also stubborn, Linda knew that. She was aware of the huge effort he'd often make to stop the tears from falling. He didn't want to be seen as a crying baby. If Frank was crying now, it meant that she had made him extremely upset. She had hurt him, distressed him. How could she? How could she do that to her sweet little boy?

"Oh God baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to argue with your dad in front of you, I just...got carried away." She cried with him, cupping his face and trying to catch the tears with her thumbs. It was futile, though, since he started to cry harder, as if he was finally letting out everything he had been repressing. "I didn't mean to make you cry, Frankie, I didn't..."

"I'm s-sorry, mom," Frank mumbled, arms hanging limp by his sides. He hated to give his parents trouble, even if it was never on purpose. He was glad his dad had escaped the argument, otherwise he'd be feeling even guiltier than he already did seeing his mother cry.

"No, no..." Linda hugged him tightly, smiling to herself when she felt her waist being circled back. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. It's all my fault, sweety, all my fault. But I love you, Frankie. No matter how mad I might sometimes seem, never forget that. Okay?"

"I know, I l-love you too."

After letting Frank cry for a while, she made him apart to be able to look into his big wet eyes. "Son...I won't repeat everything I said down there. You've heard it millions of times and I hope deep inside that you understand me..."

"Mom, I..."

"Let me finish, please." She caressed Frank's long hair, tucking a strand behind his ear. "I want you to know that I don't mind you being gay. I know I don't say it as often as I should, but I'm proud of you on so many levels. I'll always support you, and I want you to trust me. Like...even if you...uh...need to talk about boys? Or..."

"Moooom!" Frank punched her arm playfully, then used that same hand to wipe away his tears. "I don't like anyone! I never have, so technically, I can't say whether I'm gay, straight, bi or an alien."

"Oh, come on!" she pushed. "I know you at least like some actors? Musicians?"

Frank just snorted at that. "I love you and I trust you, and I do understand why you're so worried. You know I do. But I need to express myself the way I feel it, I need to be...me. I'll be careful, but you can't keep me inside forever or escort me everywhere."

"But what if-"

"A little bit of freedom mom, please. At least once a week for now?" Frank proposed, hopeful. When Linda didn't reply, he squeezed Marina's hand in search of back up.

"Pleeeeease, Linda! Only once a week and I'll make sure he reports to you every half an hour!" she tried. Frank grunted, not liking her suggestion.

"Ok, Frankie." Linda sighed. She didn't think it was a good idea, but knew her son was right; he needed some independence. "You can go out with Marina alone once a week. But only for two hours and you text me every twenty minutes so I know you're safe."

"WHAT?" Frank let out horrified. Reporting every thirty minutes sounded bad enough -he'd make sure to get Marina back for that, but twenty? "Twenty, really?"

"That or nothing."

"Uh...deal, I guess. Can we go to my room now?"

"Go ahead, kids. I'll bring you something to eat in a while, alright?" Linda offered.

"Awesome, I'm hungry!" Marina replied with a hand on her belly.

"Me too, thanks mom!" Frank assented from the top of the stairs, before disappearing into his room.