All That I've Got

Frank got home, changed and called his mother to tell her that he’s be out. She sounded busy and the line was mostly filled with static, but she told Frank “okay, just be safe” and Frank promised he would.

His mom had been booked with work all week, and Frank hoped that with the weekend here, she’d finally have time to relax.

He was sitting in the cold on his porch, smoking, when his friends started to arrive. Pete pulled up in his beater, and popped out with Patrick on his heels. In his hands he had two 6-packs of Bud Light, Frank could see even more booze in Patricks arms. “You know Ray’s gonna kill you for that,” Frank
called out to them.

Pete grinned and plopped down at Frank’s side, dropping the beer at their feet. “That’s why I do it, Frankie,” he said around his smile.

Patrick sat down on Pete’s other side, and readjusted his hat. “And we have to drink it all, cause I have no where to put it now,” he said with a wink. Frank yanked the carefully placed hat from Patrick’s head in reply, and plunked it down on his own head. Patrick’s hands flew to his hair, as if the new sun-exposure would cause his scalp to inflame or something. This caused Pete and Frank to explode into giggles. Fed up, Patrick snatched his hat back and pouted until a gleaming car purred to a stop at the curb.

The three of them managed to shut their gaping mouths when Gerard climbed, oblivious, from the drivers’ side. He walked across Frank’s lawn, only to pull up short when he registered his friends’ expressions.

“What? What is it?” Gerard asked.

Pete jumped up, “Dude, what the fuck? You drive a BMW? And an M3, at that?” He was practically mobbing Gerard, and Frank was only seconds from joining him.

“Wait until Bob sees this,” Frank said, “he’s gonna have a fucking cow.”

Gerard looked less confused now as he managed to maneuver past Pete so he could sit on the porch too. “Yeah, I drive it, but it’s not like I own it,” he said to Pete. “It’s my- it’s Brian’s.”

No one asked who Brian was because that’s when Gerard noticed the beer. “Holy crap, we’re getting drunk? That’s a shit-ton of Bud Light, guys,” he said, making a face.

“Yep,” Patrick replied. “But you won’t think it’s that much when you see Bob start to drink,” he laughed.

“Speaking of Bob,” Frank said as Ray’s car pulled up. Bob was out of the vehicle before Ray had even hit the brakes completely, practically running up to Gerard’s car.

“Which one of you fuckers is driving a BMW in fucking New Jersey? Is this a joke, no teenager can afford a BMW in New Jersey!” Bob shouted.

Patrick pointed at Gerard and Bob’s face went slack.

“I hope you eat the flies you’re gonna catch, Bryar,” Ryan said as he unfurled his body from the backseat of Ray’s tiny Toyota. “Now let’s get drunk,” he finished when he reached the porch.

“Drunk!?” Ray squealed when he reached the group (Bob remained shocked and half-angry at the curb, of course).

“I’m with you, Ray,” Gerard chirped. Frank elbowed him and stood up.

“We’ll get drunk after we go out to eat. It’s 5 o’clock and I’m starving. We’re getting pizza.” Frank declared.

“I bet you’re starving,” Patrick said, looking concerned, “all you ingest are vegetables and cigarettes.”

“Oh, Patrick, please don’t get all parent-y,” Frank sighed, “Ray’s already got that role filled. Now someone help me get this beer into my car.”

Gerard hopped up, “Got it,” he said, and started loading his arms with the cans.

Ray refused to help, but everyone else at least offered their support in the form of cheers and hive-fives all around. Soon Frank’s trunk was filled with countless 6-packs and two whiskey bottles.

“Let’s go already” Ryan suggested, and so Frank found his Jeep packed with himself, Pete, Patrick, and Gerard. Everyone else was squished back into Ray’s car (since Pete couldn’t be trusted to drive so many people and Gerard’s car was deemed too nice to take anywhere).

Patrick chose the pizza place, an old joint called Georgie’s Pizzeria on the outskirts of town. They’d been their before, so when the pulled up, Pete led the group through the doors and to a booth in the back that was large enough for all seven of them.

Frank managed to weave his way so that he ended up sitting beside Gerard, with Bob on his other side. Pete pouted for a moment for not being by Frank, but got distracted by the attractive waitress that came to take their drink orders.

“So where will we go after this,” Gerard asked Frank once they’d all ordered. He looked uncertain, so Frank nudged his leg with his own.

“Well since my mom will be home from work by the time we leave here, we’ll probably go over to Bob’s. His parent’s fall asleep early, and his basement is so much nicer than mine, so we’ll probably crash there” Frank replied.

“Go to Bob’s. . . and drink?” Gerard said, Frank’s leg nudge having done nothing for his nerves or anything.

Realization dawned on Frank, “Dude! Gee, have you ever been drunk?” Frank swiveled his body so he faced Gerard on the booth. It took one look at Gerard’s face for Frank to know the answer. “Guys! Guys!” Frank flagged down the group’s attention. “Gerard hasn’t ever been drunk!”

Pete and Bob started cackling, and Patrick and Ray gave Gerard matching looks of pity and pride.

Ryan just focused really hard on swirling the ice in his water glass.

“We need to take his virginity!” Frank continued in his excitement. Bob snorted the word ‘virginity’ and choked until Patrick had to pound on his back to get him to breathe again.

“Like, what the heck, Gee? You’re what- seventeen? Where have you been your whole life?” crooned Frank.

Color stained high on Gerard’s cheeks, and his eyes were half hidden by his messy hair. “I’ve been. . . busy,” he said without much vigor. “I’ve never had time for parties or whatever.”

“For seventeen years?!” Pete giggled.

Eventually, Frank took pity on Gerard and stretched his arm around the other boy’s shoulders.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Gee. You’ll have fun.”

Gerard shot Frank an accusing glare, but he seemed to forget his annoyance a while later when the pizza came.

While they ate, Frank busied himself with cataloguing the information he learned from Gerard. Gerard liked to draw, he read comics, and listened to good music. Also, he had an affinity for black hair dye.
Frank’s in the middle of scraping the cheese from his pepperoni pizza when Gerard speaks, “Okay, this is the second time you’ve done that. Do you have something against cheese, Frankie?”

“Not against cheese,” Pete spoke up from across the table, “against ‘animal slaughter’” he quoted, “and therefore the heaven that is pepperoni.” He shoved a giant bite of pizza into his mouth and chewed with mocking satisfaction.

Frank scowled, then stuck out his tongue at Pete.

“Why did you feel the need to put a quote around animal slaughter?” Ryan laughed.

Good point, Frank thought.

“I was just quoting what Frankie always says,” Pete pointed out indignantly, then promptly began a game of iSpy with Ray.

“Gosh, that kid has the attention span of a house fly,” Frank muttered turning back to Gerard and his own meat-free pizza. Then he noticed that Gerard had scraped the cheese from his own slice, and Frank looked up to find the dark-haired boy smiling down at him.

“I forgive you for making fun of my drinking virginity,” Gerard said airily. Frank continued to stare in shock. “And I’m not going to force you to watch me eat meat right in front of you, if it’s upsetting to you,”

Frank couldn’t believe Gerard was even real in that moment. He was literally perfect.

“Um, no- it’s alright, Gerard,” Frank said, but Gerard had already shoved his cheese-less pizza into his mouth and was shouting his guesses across the table, where the iSpy game had grow to encompass everyone but Frank.

The night really began, as Frank had predicted, in Bob’s basement. Pete sat on the couch coaxing drink after drink into Gerard, Bob lay on the carpet waiting for Ryan to assemble some kind of table for beer pong. Frank himself was sticking with Ray and not drinking all that much.

Patrick was busying himself by singing Alkaline Trio at the top of his lungs.

“Patrick, no offense, but shut the fuck up man” Bob howled after a minute. “My parents can sleep through a tornado, but, man you’re so gonna wake them.”

Patrick scowled, then dimmed the lights and went for his second drink. It wasn’t long before everyone was being loud, jostling for beer pong points, and (in Gerard’s case) falling over after a few steps.

Eventually, Ray began physically withholding the alcohol when he deemed everyone “drunk enough”. Frank, being the second most-sober, was enlisted by Ray and his pleading look to help.

At around eleven, everyone had settled down into the sprawling leather couch, and most were well into the “get sleepy then pass out” drunk stage. Ray had put in a movie to entertain them, as if they were tuckered out kids after a day at the beach, or something.

Frank settled down on the end by Ryan and watched the zombies on screen fill up his brain. During the first action scene, Ryan kicked his legs across Frank’s lap and snapped at Pete to stop giggling at the bad computer effects and fake blood. Gerard managed to slur an agreement and Bob just snored.

Halfway through, Frank himself was almost asleep when he felt the couch shifting beside him. When he opened his eyes, Gerard was on his other side, squished in the tiny space between Frank’s body and the couch’s arm.

“Frankie,” he whisper, over-loud. “Hey.”

“Gerard, I don’t even know how you’re upright right now,” Frank whispered back, amused.

“I-I don’t really know, either,” Gerard replied. “Pete fell asleep and now no one will talk to me,” Gerard whined, his eyes wide and gleaming in the dark.

“I think everyone’s asleep, Gee,” Frank said, and a look around proved him right. “Do you’re parents know you’re sleeping here, or do you need a ride?”

“B-brian, doesn’t know. But it’s alright, I’ll- I’ll call Mikey or somethin’” Gerard’s voice trickled off as he spoke, his eyes now sliding shut as if against his will.

“Haha, I should’ve never let Pete get you this drunk, Gee,” Frank laughed. Then Gerard’s head was in Frank’s lap, and Gerard was out cold, pretty face slack and cupid mouth hanging softly open.

Frank resisted only a moment before threading his fingers through the boy’s crazy, dark hair, smoothing it back and aside from Gerard’s eyes.

His hands were still there, silently brushing and exploring, when the movie ended. Then, Frank had to physically force himself to move out from under Gerard’s head.

“Gee, wake up,” He kneeled before the boy now sprawled across Frank’s spot and onto sleeping Ryan. Gerard’s face shifted but he stayed asleep. Frank put his hand to Gerard’s face then, and used his thumb to trace the dark fringe of Gerard’s eyelashes. “Wake up.”

At Frank’s touch, Gerard’s eyes fluttered hazily open, and Frank removed his hand. “I’m gonna drive you home, okay?”

Gerard mumbled, and tried to go back to sleep, but Frank forced him up and then helped him stand. Ray stirred at the commotion, so Frank muttered “I’ll be back, just gonna take Gee home,” and Ray stilled, as if his parental needs had been satiated.

It was hard work getting Gerard through the house quietly, when Gerard insisted on whispering nonsense in Frank’s ear and attempting to touch Frank’s lip ring. Finally, they were out in the freezing night air, and Gerard shut up long enough for Frank to get him into the car.

“-and, oh, are we going somewhere F-Frank?” Gerard whispered when the engine rumbled to life.
“Yeah, I’m taking your drunk ass home,” Frank kept his eyes to the road, “Also, you can stop whispering now, Gee, we’re in the car.”

“But-but I like to whisper,” Gerard whispered again, then burst out in a barking laugh, that made Frank grin.

“Okay, you can whisper, but please tell me where you live,” Frank settled with a half-meant sigh.

Gerard managed to tell him through giggles, and Frank soon found them in the rich part of town, where the houses cost more than Frank’s own life. He kept his mouth shut though about it, and listen to Gerard ramble sleepily on about breakfast and monkeys or something.

Frank finally pulled up at the address he’d gotten from Gerard, and his mouth dropped. The house was one of the biggest in the neighborhood, and everything about it screamed wealth: the porches and balconies, and the sleek, trimmed lawns.

He was shaken from his stupor when he felt a touch at his mouth. Gerard had finally managed to get his fingers to Frank’s lip ring, and the other boy was gently moving it so it glinted in the moonlight. Frank didn’t know what to do, so he just held his breath and sat, watching the fascination play across Gerard’s pale face.

Then, as it always seemed to happen in the quiet, the colors bloomed. They spiraled out from Gerard in a blinding swirl, more powerful than either of the other times Frank had seen them.

Gerard didn’t seem to notice until Frank spoke, too loud in the cramped, colored space, “Gerard, please tell me what the fuck is going on,” Frank implored.

That sobered up Gerard real quick, and his eyes grew wide, taking in the wispy colored air. Suddenly, he began to swat at the colors, and then he turned to clumsily open his door.

Frank was out and around the car in a flash, just in time to catch Gerard as he tumbled from his seat in his panic.

Gerard’s breath whooshed from his lungs, and a trapped expression sprawled across is already clouded face. The colors had turned to static and disappeared. “Gerard,” Frank said firmly, “Why does that happen to you? And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Gerard’s face crumpled a bit, and Frank lowered them onto the grass by the curb. Gerard ended up back in Frank’s lap, with his head on Frank’s shoulder, but he wasn’t crying. Instead, the normally comfortable boy was hyperventilating against the skin of Frank’s neck.

Somehow, Frank found himself rubbing Gerard’s back and cooing in his ear, soft nothings about “okay” and “trust”. He kept it up until Gerard’s chest stopped moving so fast, and Gerard pulled back.

“It’s-it’s nothing you could understand, Frank,” Gerard said quietly after a moment. “It’s just what happens when I feel things to strongly of f-forget to watch myself,” Gerard looked at Frank, pleading for understanding.

And just as with before, Frank didn’t. He understood less than when he thought he was crazy. But as
with before, Frank found himself nodding as if he did.

Relief flooded into every part of Gerard’s body and he slumped over a bit. “Thank you, Frankie. You nev- you never ask questions,” he said.

But Frank wasn’t letting Gerard get away completely again. “I’m not asking questions tonight, Gee. But I will. When you’re sober and you’re ready, I need you to tell me what’s going on,” Frank said.

Then, he helped stand the now-mute boy up and walked him to the massive house’s equally massive front porch. He waited as Gerard unlocked the door, then Frank turned to go.

As he was walking down the steps, Gerard suddenly stopped him by linking his arms around Frank’s middle from behind. Dark hair swooped over Frank’s shoulder and Gerard mumbled “Thanks,” near Frank’s collarbone before letting go and disappearing into the house.

Frank compulsively twirled his lip ring on the way back to Bob’s. His thoughts were muddled and confused and a rainbow of colors kept playing around in his peripheral vision, as if to fill the absence left by a black-haired, olive eyed boy with too much on his mind.