All That I've Got

“I fucked up,” Gerard plopped his face into his hands. The Range Rover continued to peel away from the high school, leaving the building and the small punk-boy growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

The girl driving turned to Gerard, and sighed. “Yes. You did. I don’t know what to say.”

Gerard groaned. This is bad. He could already see the look that would be on Brian’s face, and it made every thing much, much worse.

“But,” the girl said, “That boy seemed to like you. I hope what happened doesn’t change anything, and not just between you guys.” She gave Gerard a pointed look.

“I’m sorry, Emerson,” he said. He kept his head bowed and his voice was already tinged with the guilt they both knew would only amplify when they got back to the house.

----

The next day, Gerard avoided Frank. Though the smaller boy tried to talk to him multiple times,
Gerard only shimmied away in the crowds or managed to disappear all together.

Frank grew more and more frustrated as the day trudged on, like a beat horse in a backroad race. He didn’t know exactly what he would say to Gerard if he managed to find him, but the urge to see him again burned in Frank’s mind. Frank was even fine if the conversation yielded no answers about
Gerard’s color summoning, or whatever it was.

When lunch came, Frank didn’t even bother searching for Gerard. Instead, he ushered Bob out back again so the two of them could chain smoke the time away.

They sauntered into 8th period- the one class Frank had with both Ray and Bob- to a displeased Ray and the late-bell clanging a half-second after their entrance.

Ray bobbed his afro disapprovingly, then attempted to ignore them. His shun ended, predictably, half way through class when Bob managed to maneuver over his desk and plunge his pencil into Ray’s hair. This, of course, resulted in uncontrollable giggles from the three, and a harsh look from the bitch teacher.

--

“No, the oranges symbolize death. I thought you would’ve know that!” Frank jabbed Bob in the side as
they walked out of school after the final bell.

“I’m not an expert on that movie! I’ve never been a fan of.. violent, mafia families,” Bob said, looking indignant.

“Who’s not a fan of violent mob families?!” Ray cut in with a look.

Frank laughed, “Best kind of family there is.”

The three of them were now back were Frank had gotten his ass handed to him by his friends the day before. Back where Frank had met Gerard, 24 whole hours ago.

The “color boy” had reduced himself to almost nothing in Frank’s mind. Just a one time chat, and Frank was beginning to be okay with that. He didn’t need anymore weird in his life. Not that there was much to start with. Also, Gerard obviously didn’t want to talk to Frank, and so Frank was done trying.

Well, Frank was done trying. Until he saw Gerard.

The other boy was alone for the first time that Frank had seen him today. He was by the stairs again, but not sitting. No, he was staring directly at Frank, a look in his eyes that made uneasiness bubble up in Frank’s stomach.

“Hey guys,” Frank stopped moving, “I’ll meet you at my house later for practice. I, uh, forgot something.”

Both Bob and Ray looked skeptical, but eventually they shrugged and continued down to the parking lot, sans Frank.

Frank wandered over to Gerard, dragging his shoes a bit and stalling.

Gerard was dressed in jeans and a black hoodie. He looked as normal as anyone else in Snyder high school. But Frank knew better. Gerard was different. Gerard, and his perfect smile and his hazel eyes, stopped time. Gerard caused books to burn and stomachs to clench, all without trying. He looked effortless, waiting for Frank to approach, like he had planned this all along.

That easiness faded a bit as Frank drew into eye level. Gerard’s face flickered in hesitation and he began to tug at his lower lip with his teeth.

“Frank,” he started. “Can we just not?”

Frank was confused. He didn’t know what to expect and he had no idea why he had let himself get pulled over here anyways. He was mad at Gerard. Mad at him for ignoring him and for being so goddamn weird, but still so goddamn cute and sweet and nervous. Ugh.

“Can we not, what?” Frank asked.

“Can we please skip the questions that we both know I’ll avoid. You were the first person to actually talk to me in a week and I’m not ready to let my fucked up life ruin things..” All of Gerard’s confidence seemed to have waned completely. “I really actually want to be your friend.” The boy looked defeated and embarrassed, and Frank still didn’t understand.

But he wanted to, and so he pretended he did. Frank gave a small nod, “Okay. I guess I’ll forgive you for freaking me out. Then peeling away in a fancy car and ignoring me the next day...” he smiled at that, and Gerard smiled back, all little teeth and relief.

“Thanks, Frank.”

“No problem, Gee,” Frank said. Once again, he slung his arm over Gerard’s shoulders.
Gerard gave him a surprised look then laughed shyly. “Actually, about that fancy car...”

----

Music was already leaking out of Frank’s house when they pulled up. Guitars being tuned and mics being checked, just faint trickles under the front door. Gerard looked nervous as Frank ushered him in. He’d said his ride was supposed to be late, and so Frank had invited him over. “You didn’t get to meet the guys at lunch, so it’s now or never,” He’d claimed. Truth was, he just wanted to spend more time with Gerard. He really hoped his ulterior motive wasn’t scrawled across his face.

Frank led Gerard through the cluttered home’s kitchen, all mismatched glasses and duct taped appliances, to the basement stairs.

Frank had worked with his mother to clean and carpet the basement a few years prior, and now it acted as an adequate practice space for the band. It smelled of new wood and cigarettes. In one corner there was a slouching plaid couch- looking dejected against the gray flooring- and in the other was a drum kit (Bob’s) and a tangle of amps, cords, and empty chip packages (Ray’s and Frank’s).
Sitting amongst the chaos was Ray and Bob, as always. Ray’s lap was occupied by his guitar, and he was slowly running scales. Bob was squatting impatiently beside him, looking on.

They both glanced up when Frank and Gerard came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

Ray looked surprised to see someone else with Frank, and he opened his mouth to talk.

Bob didn’t even miss a beat, “Pete’s a no-show so far,” he interrupted Ray.

“You guys, this is Gerard. He’s new,” Frank ignored Bob, saving the information to process later.

“Oh, yeah,” Ray spoke, standing awkwardly and extending a hand to Gerard. “You’re in my math class.”

Gerard took Ray’s hand and smiled. “Mrs. O’Connel is a bitch.”

That made both Ray and Bob laugh, and Frank started to feel less tense.

Kicking aside a food wrapper, Frank picked up his guitar from its corner stand, letting the strap fall over his shoulders. “So Gee, this is our practice space. It’s pretty much all we do after school. You can sit on the couch once Pete, our bass player, get’s here,” he said.

Gerard plopped down on the ugly plaid sofa and gave Frank another one of his shy smiles. Frank’s heart swooped a little. Gerard was sweet, and cute and nervous and it was such a change for Frank to actually feel something for someone that he wanted to grin and never stop grinning.

Ray sat next to Gerard, and Frank listened in while he tuned his own guitar.

“Sick bag, man!” Ray enthused, examining it.

“Thanks, I did it myself.” Gerard answered.

“Y’know, you could design some merch for us. None of us can draw for shit, and Frank’s always rambling on about how we need t-shirts to sell.”

Gerard’s eyes light up. “No way. I would love to help you guys. Do you like horror graphics? I’m really good at that kind of style.”

“Do we? You should hear our lyrics. We’re all about horror!” Ray threw up his hands, as if for emphasis. “This is great.”

The two high fived. Gerard settled down further into the couch, shrugging off his hoodie. Underneath, he wore a black band shirt, worn down by many washings. Frank realized he’d stopped tuning and quickly got back to it.

Suddenly, Bob roared a bit and shot across the room at Gerard. “You like The Misfits? Look, Frank, he likes the Misfits!”

Gerard glanced down at his shirt, then back up with a smile. “Fuck yeah. I love them. Oh, and Iron Maiden. You should see the posters I have,” he said.

“Bob, you look like you’re in love with him now,” Frank giggled into his hand.

Bob shot him a glare then turned big eyes back to Gerard. “Maybe I am. What’s it to you?”

Frank ducked out of his strap and laid the guitar down in a bed of wires. Then he sauntered over toward the three of them, all clustered round the couch.

When he reached the sofa, he casually sat on its arm. “Maybe I don’t like sharing my friends,” Frank smirked. Then he slid his arm around Gerard’s pale neck, and shimmied his legs forward until he sat, sprawled across Gerard’s lap. Frank tangled his fingers into the dark, curling hair at the nap of Gerard’s neck and shot Bob a satisfied glare.

Gerard had tensed up initially when Frank had first plopped down, but now he was laughing, red seeping across the abnormally pale skin of his high cheeks. One of his arms snaked around Frank’s waist, to everyone surprise (and Frank’s pleasure).

Bob huffed and rolled his eyes, “Dude, I wasn’t going to steal your boyfriend or anything. I’m straight.”

Ray smacked Bob from his spot on the couch.

Gerard look embarrassed at the word boyfriend, withdrawing his arm from Frank a bit. So Frank detangled his fingers, letting his palm graze Gerard’s jaw for a split second, then he stood and sauntered back over to his instruments. “We’re not together, dickhead. I just met him. But aren’t you glad I did?” Frank said light- heartedly, adding a wink in Bob’s direction for good measure.

“I am,” Ray volunteered. “I mean he draws, he likes good music..”

“He is right here,” Gerard said with a laugh. “I also like comics and sometimes-sometimes- I sing.” he added as an afterthought.

Ray’s eyes grew huge. “Did you hear that? He likes comics!” Ray shook Gerard a little bit by the shoulder he could reach. His voice was piercingly high with excitement. “You. Are. Awesome.”

“Ray! Now you look like you love him!” Frank half-shouted. He was grinning though, so Ray just stuck out his tongue and continued to fangirl with Gerard.

The conversation dropped a few moments later, though, when footsteps began to clunk down the basement stairs.

“Pete!” Frank called, setting his guitar down once more.

Purple sneakers preceded their tiny best friend, who grinned wide white teeth when he saw them.
Frank jumped up and collided with his friend. Pete was one of the only people that Frank could find who was Frank’s own height. Bob was next to bear hug the small, tan kid, then Ray added to the dog pile.

“I haven’t seen you in forever, asshole,” Frank mumbled against Pete’s chest. It was true, Pete went to a different school then the rest of them, and he tended to miss band practice and other get- togethers.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Pete repeated squirming a bit under all the pressure. When they all finally let go, Pete kept his hands on Frank’s shoulders, looking him up and down. Finally, he smacked the side of Frank’s head affectionately and said, “No more fucking detentions, got it?”

Frank laughed and ducked out from Pete’s arms. “Got it.”

Pete punched Bob’s shoulders and gave Ray a hug before he noticed Gerard, who was still sitting, forgotten, on the couch.

Pete bounced over to him and introduced himself. Everyone seemed to warm up to Gerard quickly, which was a relief. The more people liked him, the more likely he’d stick around.

Frank twirled his lip ring with his tongue, then walked over to the couch and scooted Pete aside so he could sit next to Gerard.

Frank really hoped that was Gerard blushing when their knees touched as he spoke with Pete. He really hoped he had some millimeter chance with Gerard. He hoped so hard it hurt. But he wouldn’t let that on, so he kept a straight face and laughed when appropriate.

Eventually, they got around to practicing, but it only lasted twenty minutes before Bob declared he was starving and pounded upstairs, Pete in his wake.

“Well, we might as well follow,” Ray said. He unplugged the amps and Gerard stood, stretching a bit before following the group up to the kitchen.

The kitchen truly was a mess. Almost everything was falling apart, everything was leaking and broken and miskept. But no one looked fazed, and for that, Frank was grateful. He hopped up onto a counter while Bob rummaged in the cracked fridge.

“Does anyone have a cigarette?” Frank voiced.

“Me! Me,” Pete fumbled in his pocket and withdrew a pack. He flicked one across the room into Frank’s lap.

“Oh, toss me one too?” Gerard asked. He’d come over to lean against the counter top, just a few inches from Frank.

Pete grinned and made a show of throwing the cigarette without looking. It landed just behind Gerard, in the toaster, and they all cracked up.

When Frank’s mom came home from work, they’d practically decimated the house’s food supply, and they’d migrated to Frank’s room to play video games.

Earlier, Gerard had used Frank’s phone to call home to check in. Now, he was sprawled across Frank’s bed with Ray. They were looking at a vibrant comic book that Ray had brought in his backpack. Frank could just see a slice of pale stomach where Gerard’s old shirt had rode up his belly. Frank wondered what it’d be like to touch it, and if that would make Gerard’s colors show.
Speaking of which, there hadn’t been a lick of color from the other boy all day, and to say the least,
Frank was relieved.

“What the fuck?” Bob shouted.

Frank looked back to the TV screen. Pete had just gunned down Bob’s soldier, and was cackling like a madman. Frank’s guy was just repeatedly smashing his gun into a digital armored car, to no avail. Frank quickly let go of the ‘attack’ button he’d been unknowingly holding for the last thirty seconds and laughed. “Okay, I think we should quit. What’s the time?” he asked.

Gerard glanced over at him, “Around 6:40, I think.”

“And he tells time!” Ray squeak, jolting up and waggling his eyebrows- and afro- at the rest of the room.

“Okay, 7 comes and all of you out,” Frank announced. His friends groaned. “C’mon, I have homework and I have to clean that fuckin’ basement you guys have managed to trash.”

Bob whacked him without looking from the screen. “Shut up, you helped.”

Frank laughed and set his controller down. He went and sat at Ray and Gerard’s feet, listening through his open window to the birds and the sounds of autumn winding down, its energy getting
sucked away in snaking slivers of cold.

When he looked up, he was met with olive eyes, peeking at him over a flashy comic. Gerard. Ray continued to talk at Gerard, but Frank could tell Gerard’s attention was on him- completely. It made Frank’s palms sweat. He kept his eyes on Gerard’s, taking in the boy’s girl-pretty face and messy, swooping hair. Time was slowing down, like it had before, in the cafeteria. The room faded out, scrubbed away like an eraser was being taken to the world. For a slivered- second, it was just Frank and Gerard. No colors, no sound, just their gaze on each other.

Frank had to look away after a minute. The world righted itself and time began to flow normally. He looked back out his window and pretended not to feel Gerard’s foot when the other boy pressed it to the side of Frank’s thigh.

What is going on?

7 o’clock rolled around, and it took some coaxing to finally get Bob and Ray out the door. Frank really did have things he needed to do. Also, he hadn’t seen his mother since that morning, which made him feel a bit guilty.

Pete and Gerard were stilling waiting for rides, though, so Frank sat with them on the stone front porch. The weak-willed sun had set a half hour ago, leaving the world indigo and smudged with shadows, like a charcoal drawing. In the distance, Frank could hear the highway, the calls of delivery trucks and the rumble of relentless wheels on pavement. Wind whispered in the trees, and cold snaked its way under their clothes.

“So, Gerard, how do you like Snyder? I hated it. Had to leave freshmen year after a practical joke.” Pete stated, his head on Frank’s shoulder.

Gerard cocked an eyebrow. “Practical joke..?”

Frank giggled, “Don’t ask. It wasn’t even funny, but it managed to piss the administration off enough to suspend him. His mom has sent him to an arts school ever since. She thinks its the school’s fault.” Frank nudged Pete playfully.

“Whatever,” Pete mumbled.

“Well, I actually like Snyder since I met you guys. It doesn’t seem so bad anymore,” Gerard said. He was looking off down the street.

Now Frank nudged him in an attempt to bring him back to the present. “Where’d you live before you came here?” He asked.

Gerard’s face became guarded all of a sudden. Frank watched as his features solidified- from open to walled in a second.

“I went to a different Jersey school,” Gerard answered after a moment.

Frank was baffled, but he let the weirdness go. After a few more waiting minutes, the familiar Range Rover pulled up before Frank’s house.

Gerard still appeared to have his guard up, but he still turned and offered Frank a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Frankie,” he said. Then he waved at Pete and walked away.

Pete and Frank watched the car rumble away in silence. Then Pete slid his arms around Frank’s waist and said, “Well, that was a bit weird.”

Frank cracked up, hugging Pete to his side. “I think Gerard is just a little bit weird all around.” He thought for a moment, “I think I like it.”