Play The Field.

As the days of October slowly went by, Frank and I became extremely close. Everyday at recess, we would play together, whether it be on the playground or in the sandbox. As Halloween approached, he started to get a tad more out-going, seeing as it was his birthday.

It was around this time that I started noticing little things about how Frank’s mood would change throughout the day; when he first arrived at school in the morning, he seemed happy, albeit a bit tired. It was after lunch that things would steadily go downhill.

If you weren’t observant, you would still think Frank was happy; he still ran around the classroom with reckless abandon during playtime, often crashing into one of the bookshelves and banging his knee or arm. However, just by looking into his eyes, you could tell that he was already dreading going home, which was something I didn’t quite understand. The only logical explanation I could think of was that he was scared of his parents, which I thought didn’t make much sense; what could your parents do that would scare you?

It was one day in particular that stands out in my mind as the day I learned just how scared Frank was of his parents, particularly his mother. He and I were once again in the reading corner, sharing a beanbag. I was helping him make his way through Green Eggs and Ham, yet another book by Dr. Seuss.

“I do not like green eggs and ham,” he said slowly, reading each word as I pointed to it. “I do not like them, Sam I am.” As he finished the sentence, he looked up at me with wide eyes, as if he was scared I would get angry with him for messing up.

“Good job Frank, you only missed two words,” I said, closing the book up and putting it back on the shelf. “What do you wanna do now?”

“I wanna go play with the blocks!” As soon as the words had left his mouth, he scrambled up and took off across the classroom at full speed. It was only a matter of time before he collided with something, and this time he hit one of the miniature paint easels we had set up near the dollhouse. It toppled over, strewing paint across the floor and making Frank trip, landing with a thud on the floor.

“Frank, look what you did now!” Ms. Kresin, whose hair looked frizzier than usual, stomped over to where Frank was slowly sitting up, his red sweater now covered in blue. “Look at this mess!”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. Ms. Kresin simply rolled her eyes, which I found to be rather rude. Actually, I’d noticed that ever since Frank had come into our classroom, she’d been acting quite different, to me especially. Even though Frank and I had decided to sit together on our first day of school together, she had quickly separated us to opposite ends of the classroom. Whenever we were reading or playing during our break time, she would look at us oddly... like she hated us.

At such a young age, I didn’t understand why she was treating us like this. When I asked Gerard about it, he’d somewhat explained it, but not very thoroughly.

“Mike-Mike, you and Frankie haven’t done anything to make Ms. Kresin hate you,” he had sighed, putting down his ever present sketchpad. “She doesn’t like me and Joey either.”

Joey was Gerard’s best friend and to be truthful, I didn’t like him much either. Even though he wasn’t nine for another month, he looked like he was already at least eleven. He had long black hair and dark eyes that always seemed to look right through me. He was nice and polite around my parents, but I’d heard some rather disturbing rumors at school about some of the things he’d reportedly done.

“How come she doesn’t like you two?” I had asked, crossing my legs and leaning back against his bedroom wall.

“She thinks Joey and I are ’too close,” he'd replied, using his fingers to add quotation marks. “She said that he’s having a negative impact on my behavior. But she can kiss my ass.”

“She’s a bitch,” I'd muttered, receiving a smack on the back of the head and a warning not to swear. After that day, we hadn’t brought up Ms. Kresin, but seeing her yell at Frank was bringing it all back.

“Leave Frank alone,” I said, getting up from my corner and going over to stand beside him. “You don’t need to yell at him for something he accidentally did.”

“Michael, are you questioning my authority over my students?” she asked, looking somewhat taken aback, which was appropriate; since my first day of school, I had listened to everything she asked. I guess I was a little of a teacher’s pet, but I wasn’t going to let her be so rude to Frank.

“No, but you’re being a bitch.” As soon as I uttered the last syllable, the entire classroom collectively gasped and all the other students turned to gape at me. Frank’s eyes had turned as big as saucers, which made him look even younger than usual.

“Michael Way! Where on Earth did you learn such a vulgar word?” Ms. Kresin asked.

“From Gerard, who also says that you can kiss his ass.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, gasping again. The tension in the room was so thick you could slice it with a knife; Frank reached out and grabbed my hand, which I now knew was something he always did when he was nervous or scared.

“I am ashamed of you Mikey! Go to the office, now!”

“Fine!” I tried to wriggle my hand away from Frank’s, only for him to grip it tighter.

“I’m going with you,” he murmured, looking down at the ground.

“No Frank, you are not. You are staying here and clea-”

“Fuck off!” Even I was a bit shocked by Frank’s outburst; until now, I had never heard him swear, or even say anything remotely close to offensive. The look on Ms. Kresin’s face was absolutely classic; her eyes were bulging out of her head, making her resemble a frog, and all the blood had drained from her skin. She was temporarily rendered speechless, but that didn’t last for very long.

“Ge-get out,” she stammered, pointing towards the door. “Get out!” From her expression, I could only guess what she would do if we stuck around, so I swiftly left the classroom, pulling Frank along with me. As soon as we got out into the hallway, he unexpectedly burst into tears and collapsed onto the floor, yanking me down with him.

“Frankie, what’s wrong?” I asked; he was sobbing hysterically, as if he was in severe pain.

“M-my mom is gonna ki-kill me!” he wailed, bringing his legs up to his chest and burying his face in his knees. “I’m not allowed to swear at all!”

“Frank, calm down,” I said slowly, sitting down beside him. “My mom and brother are both going to kill me, but I’m not crying, am I?”

“N-no,” he muttered, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “You must think I’m a wimp now.”

“Oh, you’re not a wimp,” I sighed. “You just need to calm down, okay?” He nodded, sniffing quietly. “Look, do you want a hug?” I asked quietly, hoping it would calm him down completely.

“Y-yes please,” he murmured, holding his arms out. I smiled and hugged him tightly for a few moments before pulling away.

“Feel better?” I asked, which was a rather pointless question, seeing as he was grinning like a banshee. He nodded enthusiastically.

“Much better.” Even though I was only a month older than him, it seemed like there was years between us. He was such a frightened, timid boy, and so emotional. I was too serious for my young age, not to mention I was far too smart for my own good. That might have been why I was attracted to Frank though; we were such polar opposites.

Come to think of it, that was one of the reasons I fell in love with him.

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Our punishment for cursing at our teacher was what I expected it to be; we were suspended for a day, our parents had to come pick us up early and we had to apologize to Ms. Kresin. My mom and I ended up walking Frank home, like usual; his mother didn’t show, just like every day, and his father was at work.

I could already tell that my mother was not pleased; the instant I saw her approaching the school, she had the distinctive look in her eyes that meant “you just wait until we get home.” All three of us were silent as we walked; Frank was trembling all over. We dropped him off at his house before heading into ours. And as soon as the front door shut, that’s when the yelling started.

“Michael James Way! What were you thinking?” she asked, slamming her hand down on the counter. I shrugged, looking down to hide the tears that were forming in my eyes. Getting yelled at by someone who doesn’t really matter, a teacher for example, wasn’t nearly as bad as your mother yelling at you.

“Ms. Kresin was being rude to Frankie,” I mumbled.

“Well you didn’t need to swear at her!” My mom sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. “Since this is your first time getting in trouble, I’m going to take away your soccer ball for a week and that’s it. Next time it’ll be something worse.”

“But Mom…” I whined. My soccer ball was one of the only things that managed to keep me occupied for a fair amount of time, and now she was taking it away from me.

However, no matter how much I pouted, she wouldn’t give in, so I reluctantly accepted my punishment, finding it rather harsh.

At least, I did until I found out what Frank’s was.