All That I've Got

It only took one backward cast glance for Frank’s whole life to twist. The book Fate had plotted- etched into history- for Frank, was burned and rewritten. All in the fraction of a moment.
In that slivered second, in that one look, Fate battled Destiny, and the small town on the east coast was never the same.

Snyder Hill high school was a dingy, miskept place- fitting for New Jersey it seemed. Frank felt like if his life were put on fast-forward, the majority of the scenes would be colored in the dank gray of the halls here. Like moping storm clouds. Like cigarette smoke.

The last comparison made the idea less upsetting to Frank at least.

“What the hell kinda question is this?” Frank’s train of thought derailed with a crash. He turned to his best friend, Bob, who sat beside him at their round lunch table (which, unsurprisingly, was gray.)

Bob had his blonde head craned toward his English homework, as if the closer he got to the paper, the closer he got to the answers. Which was something Frank knew from experience, was untrue.

“Couldn’t tell you, dude.” Frank responded to his friend’s anguish, “Ms. Stevof should get eaten by bats for assigning a forty question review over the weekend.”

Across the table, a boy with wild hair glanced up from his comic with a high laugh. “I’m not saying I don’t agree, but did you even attempt to do it, Frank?” Ray Toro said, not unkindly.

Frank gave a ambiguous grunt then cracked a devilish smile. “Nope. But I’m sure you did, Ray.”

Ray didn’t even need to answer, he always did his work- and on time too- so he just smirked and ducked down into his colorful book again.

Bob managed to struggle his way to question fifteen before he gave up in a slew of cuss words and crumpled paper.

“Let’s go out for a smoke,” He said, standing up and gazing expectantly at Frank.

Eagerly, the dark-haired boy jumped up from his seat to stand next to Bob, who was one of the only people not comically taller than Frank. He began buzzing his way through the lunchroom -Bob trailing in his wake- to the wide glass-fronted doors on the far side of the space. The doors lead out to the school’s eating patio, where off to the side there was a brick wall perfect for sneaking a cigarette behind.

“I hope the fucking burnouts aren’t smoking today, too,” Bob grumbled.

“Aw, don’t be so pouty, Bob,” Frank smiled as he fished his carton of cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans. “They’re not all that bad. I actually like Bert.”

The other boy rolled his eyes. “Bert is the worst of them. He makes no fucking sense. I think it’s ‘cause the drugs have fried his brain, dude.”

Frank giggled and they rounded the corner of the wall. The grass beyond was vacant, and Bob gave a relived, “Fuck yes,” before plopping down.

“Here,” he clapped his hands, and Frank threw him the cigarettes. Then the younger boy sat against the wall too.

Bob lit his smoke, and they laughed at the way his hands shook as he grasped the lighter.

Bob had been smoking longer than Frank. Mostly because Bob was older by a couple years (though he managed to fail enough to be in Frank’s grade), and he constantly need his next nicotine-fix. And because Frank was always more than happy to get his own fix at the same, they had become each other’s smoking company. Buddies under the milky gray smoke.

It helped that they shared the same dry humor and interests, and together they made a mellow pair, cut from the same gray cloth, Frank would assume.

Once Frank has his own cigarette alight, he sucked in and felt the wispy fume silken his mouth, soothing tangled nerves and misplaced thoughts. He fucking loved this feeling.

Bob blew a string of white rings from his mouth and Frank laughed smoke out his nose, his veins buzzing, and the world was cigarette gray.

That was until the warning bell rang and the two had to scramble inside, praying the tell-tale thick smell wouldn’t follow them.

It was then that it happened.

Just as they had caught up with Ray on his way out of the cafeteria, Frank flashed a look over his shoulder. And stopped walking.

Fate’s book burned and Frank caught sight of the girl-pretty, dark haired boy still sitting at a table behind them.

Every detail about the boy screamed at Frank, and his heart raced. Dark hair infringing on olive eyes. Pale skin and a face that swooped down into a baby shape. His dark jacket was buttoned tight, and he had a messenger bag that had been painted until the shades had created a thick rainbow seal over the canvas.

But what really jumped Frank’s heart was how the kid felt, even from the yards separating them. Off the other boy, colors seemed to flow. Gold, silver, red, and cigarette-smoke gray. Creativity. Intelligence. Love. Strength.

An aura? Frank thought.

Frank’s mouth had dried, and his ears had deafened to his friends’ concerned questioning. Frank waved them away until they eventually hustled to class.

Other students shuffled by also, down the dove-shadowed halls.

Then the late bell rang, and as Frank stared, the kid’s head snapped up from the notebook he was scribbling in. Upset chased confusion across his pretty face, and he scrambled up from his seat. He was still surrounded by the colors, each shade keeping Frank’s eyes glued to the other boy.

Then Frank snapped back to himself, and everything was gray again. The colors had left, and so had the boy.

Even after Frank spent five minutes looking, he couldn’t find the boy again. It was almost as if he’d evaporated like rain.

Dejectedly, Frank hefted his backpack and wandered toward class and to the detention slip his math teacher had waiting for him.

---

“Dude, what the fuck?” Bob growled. “This is your second detention this week! And it’s fucking tuesday! I don’t even get that many.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, man. I didn’t mean to be late.” Frank huffed. He wasn’t buzzing anymore. He was just as pissed as Bob. Detention meant missing band practice, and that meant letting down his friends.

“Does anyone, Frankie?” Sensible Ray butted in. Frank could tell he was mad too, which made him feel worse. Ray was the most-level headed person Frank knew, and disappointing him was like disappointing Frank’s own parents.

They were standing out in the Jersey spring weather, loitering by the junior parking lot. Frank didn’t have time to waste though, so he batted his shame away and fixed Bob and Ray with a bitter look.

“You guys will be fine without me. Pete can fill in my vocals, and I’ll be at practice tomorrow.”

Bob sighed in defeat, “Okay, fine. But you owe us now.”

Ray nodded at his side, crazed hair bobbing. “Owe us double.”

“Okay, yeah, I owe you double. Now I gotta go, Mr. Cargal takes roll in a few minutes, and I will not be late for that.”

After quick goodbyes, Frank rushed to detention, where the Mr. Cargal already had a stick up his butt. Probably because he had to monitor “delinquents” instead of going home to his crumbing marriage and hateful children.

Frank’s thoughts were poison and pissed, and they stayed that way through the whole hour he was stuck in that class. He could practically hear his band playing without him, and his heart beat in his
ears with anger.

Finally Mr. Cargal announced detention’s end, and Frank immediately smashed out the ugly gray door. He stomped down the hall and out the school’s back entrance, raging the whole way. He made sure to kick up the grass around the courtyard, also.

Just as Frank reached the stone steps that led back to the parking lot, he stopped. A familiar feeling had ebbed into his consciousness, and he noticed the figured stooped on the top step.

It was the boy from earlier today. The boy with the colors.

The kid had his raven head down, and a paperback rested open on his lap. As Frank watched, looking intently for any trace of the colors from before, the other boy suddenly lifted his pale hand to the book and tore the printed page he had been reading from the book’s weathered spine.

Frank guffawed in surprise. The small noise caused the other kid to jerk to attention. He leveled an
olive colored glance over his shoulder at Frank, his face a mix between shame and annoyance.

The look cued Frank in on his staring, and he quickly worked to make himself look like less of a creep. If that was possible. “Uh, hey.” Frank said, feeling beyond uncomfortable. The boy’s colors hadn’t returned and Frank was worried he had been going crazy. He just wanted to get home.

“Hello,” The other boy said. He shoved the savaged papers and ruined book into his bag and stood, looking as unsure as Frank felt. “I was, um, tearing them out for art. I have an art project, and I thought it’d look cool. I wasn’t, uh, just mutilating a book for fun..”

After a moment Frank cracked a smile. “Nah, I knew that,” He liked this boy, who was unsure and spacey and tore books apart for art. “What’s your name?”

Frank felt his chest quiver when the other boy smiled back shyly, his grin lopsided. “I’m Gerard,” he said.

“Woah, cool name, dude. I’m Frank,” Frank saddled up to Gerard’s side, and inclined his head down toward the parking lot. “Need a ride, Gerard?”

Gerard hesitated, then said “No, I’m good,”

Frank assessed the nearly empty lot for a skeptical moment. “You sure?”

“Yeah. My friend is picking me up, she’s just late apparently.” The taller boy bit his lip like he was nervous.

Frank leaned back against the stair’s rail, trying to keep from coming off too strong. “I can wait with you if you want. You’re new here, right?”

An unreadable expression flashed across Gerard’s face. “You don’t have to st-” he started, but Frank was already sliding down against the rail and sitting on the steps.

“I want to,” Frank said.

Another unreadable expression, then Gerard sat down suddenly, like he’d been defeated. After a moment filled with just the chirping birds, he said “And yeah, I am new. Been here a week.”

“Cool,” Frank said. “And I mean that. We don’t get very many new students. It’s as boring as a country music concert here.”

Gerard seemed to not be able to help a high laugh. Frank’s own grin almost hurt his face. Score, a pretty, rainbow boy thought he was funny.

“Country isn’t that bad. Boring, but not bad.” Gerard pointed out. “It’s got its high points.”

“Speak for yourself,” Frank scoffed. He then noticed Gerard’s bag, which was wedged between them on the stairs. Now that he was closer he could see that the bag was a mobile piece of art; its side were mini-murals of Odysessy-worthy scenes, each one in-depth and elaborate. Frank could even identify a few comic book heroes and other famous characters painted on. “Did you do this?” He asked, looking intently at Gerard.

The other boy flushed under Frank’s look, and Frank’s heart shuttered.

“Yeah,” Gerard admitted. “It’s this bad habit I have- painting on things. It makes a mess.”

That made Frank whip the bag into his lap, craning his head forward to scrutinize the art. “This- this is amazing, man. Like, how?! I couldn’t do this in a million years.”

Gerard laughed again and leaned back on his hands. “It’s a gift, I know.”

Frank glanced over at him. “Someone’s cocky!” Frank said.

Gerard sat forward, “I’m joking, man. I’m not that great. But it’s fun.” He gently tugged the bag back from Frank.

Frank huffed a bit skeptically. Then he grinned at Gerard. “You’re cool, man. You should sit with me at lunch sometime, my friends would love you. That is if you don’t already have someone to s-”

“I don’t.” Gerard interrupted. His whole face was pulled into a smile, and his voice sounded grateful.

“I haven’t all week.”

Frank felt his grin mirror the other boy’s. “Awesome. I’ll find you next time.”

They sat there for awhile, Gerard telling Frank about how he had managed to get locked inside the bathroom on his first day at Snyder Hill. Frank was finding it increasingly adorable how Gerard spoke out of the corner of his mouth, and he was genuinely disappointed when a blue Range Rover pulled into the Junior Lot.

Gerard looked upset too, but he grabbed his messenger bag and stood. Frank rose with him, and they wandered down the steps, Gerard’s converse slapping reluctantly on the stone and Frank’s arm friendlily stretched across the taller boy’s shoulders.

The car had pulled up to the curb at the bottom of the stairs, and the passenger window rolled down as they got closer. A girl about Frank and Gerard’s age was driving, her eyes concealed behind large sunglasses. She didn’t move for a moment, just looked at them coming closer, then she leaned across the empty seat and gave a wave at Gerard.

He waved back, a small smile at his lips. Envy itched a bit beneath Frank’s skin, but he brushed it away. Gerard turned back to him when they reached the car. “Thanks for waiting, Frank. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Frank nodded and smiled up at Gerard. “That’s if you don’t get stuck in the bathroom again,” he joked.

“Well, now you can come rescue me, I guess,” Gerard laughed.

As they grinned at each other, the air between them shifted. Then suddenly, it filled in with color. Yellow, green, pink, silver, purple. Just like before in the cafeteria. They were suspended around the two of them, and time seemed to freeze for a moment.

Then Frank’s eyes widened as he whipped his head around, looking for the source. It was coming from Gerard, who’s smile had slipped.

Quickly, Gerard turned away from Frank and climbed into the Range Rover. The colors followed him, and in a second they had both sped off in the glossy car.

“What?!” Frank stuttered out loud, though he was alone. The aura left a hollow space in Frank’s heart now that it was gone, and Frank didn’t like that feeling at all.

“What?” Frank repeated.

He wasn’t going crazy, then. Gerard literally emanated colors. Like body heat or something. Frank shook his head, and refrained from sitting on the curb in shock and confusion.

Instead, he wandered over to his car, started the engine, and peeled off of the school’s property, gray cigarette smoke trailing out of his Jeep’s open windows.