Just You and I, Your Starless Eyes Remain

Do you remember that day when we met

I glanced up at his alarm clock: 11:59. One more minute and this whole crazy, hectic, fun, magical day was over. One more minute and Frank’s birthday was officially over. One more minute and he’d be one day older. One more minute and it would be Saturday. One more minute and I’d still be sitting in Frank’s room, with him by my side.

“One more minute,” I whispered. I looked at his clock and then to him.

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The sun crept through the broken shade on the small window. I felt the heat of the sun pressing against the back of my head from where I was sitting on the carpeted floor. I glanced up from my sketch pad to see Frank’s big eyes open from his spot on his bed. He lifted the blankets from him and walked over to his dresser drawer. He wore nothing but his boxers as he opened the drawer. I looked up at him; the ink from his tattoos clung to his skin. He slid on a pair of tight black skinny jeans. Frank sat down on the floor next to me and looked over at my sketch pad. I never let any one see my drawings anymore, but this time I didn’t feel like protesting. A huge smile spread across his face, and he almost had a hint of shock in his eyes.

“You never showed me these,” he smiled.

“There’s not much to show,” I admitted. He stared at me for a short confused moment.

“What do you mean by that?” His voice broke the silence. “You’re amazing,” he added in a quick whisper.

I looked up from my pad, slightly embarrassed. No one had told me I was good since my parents left me. And that’s when it hit me. Memories from last night flooded into my head. I felt myself smash up against wet concrete. I felt myself bleeding. I felt myself being picked up and being taken to Frank’s house. And then, I felt his lips touch mine.
Oh, what had happened? I felt my cheeks suddenly get warmer as I looked at him; and I saw the slightest increase in color in his face too. Did that whole thing mean he liked me? No it couldn’t have meant that, he can’t like me. Me. This is me we’re talking about; the little loner in school, always being picked on. I have always been alone; well, that is since Frank came along. But he didn’t like me like that; he didn’t like me as much as I do. He never will. I felt that color fade from my face as I looked away. Why did I, for even a slight second, think I had a chance?

Then I felt something pull the strand of hair away from my face. I looked up; it was Frank pushing my hair back.

“Um, about last night,” he gulped.

Great! Here it comes, the let down! I thought.

“Uhuh…” I pushed the conversation forward.

“Well, I-I’m sorry if that was awkward or anything. I didn’t mean for it to happen or anything…” He trailed off.

“Oh,” My face flushed white. My almost-nice-again life was, at that moment, ripped away from me.