All That I've Got

Sometime during the early morning, Frank made it back home. He woke up a few hours later in his own bed, with his mother’s footsteps filling the empty quiet of the house.

“Morning, Frank,” she greeted when he managed to pull his ass from bed. “That’s a nice car parked out front,” she motioned with her head.

Oh, fuck. Gerard had left his car here. It was a miracle the thing wasn’t stolen or something. Frank turned to his mom, “Yeah, that’s my friend’s. I drove him home last night, so he never got to take it. I’ll call him.”

Frank’s mom nodded and went back to paying the bills papering the kitchen table. Frank didn’t even make a sound when he remember that, fuck, he didn’t even have Gerard’s number or anything. Instead he went about fixing himself a bowl of fruity pebbles and milk.

He was about halfway done when the doorbell rang. “It’s okay, mom. I got it,” Frank said when his mom sighed and moved to get up.

Frank went to the door, cereal bowl in hand, and prepared to greet the mail man or whatever.
Surprisingly, he was met with a wrecked look Gerard in pajama pants and sunglasses.

“Gee?” Frank squinted.

“Yep. The one and only, or whatever,” Gerard replied, looking as if every word cost him. “Man, I feel fucking terrible.”

Frank laughed. “Yeah, your first time getting smashed is usually followed by your first hangover.”

Gerard groaned, and Frank offered him his half-eaten bowl of soggy multi-colored flakes. “Want some?” he asked.

Gerard groaned even louder, “God, no.”

Frank grinned and said, “Yeah you’re right, fruity pebbles fucking suck.” Then he ushered Gerard inside and shut the door.

“Mom!” Frank called, “my friend, Gerard, is here to pick up his car!”

Frank’s mom appeared in the kitchen doorway. For a moment she said nothing, eyes wide as she just took in the sight of the still sunglassed Gerard, then she gave a small smile. “Good morning, Gerard,” she said.

Gerard managed a fairly normal ‘good morning’.

“We might go out for breakfast,” Frank said, and his mom just nodded.

“Have fun you two. Frank you have money?”

“Yeah,” Frank replied, already getting his shoes on and pushing Gerard back out the door. “See you later!”

“Why are we getting breakfast? That sounds horrible,” Gerard moaned, slouching his shoulders.

“Because, eating will actually make you feel better, you pretty dimwit.” Frank replied. Gerard stayed quiet.

When they arrived at the Waffle House, Frank ordered them both pancakes with sides of eggs and bacon. Then he turned on his swivel stool to face Gerard.

“Tough night?” He asked.

“Tough morning. The night was-it was fine,” Gerard said eyes nervously flicking to Frank.

“Yeah, we’ll get around to last night after you’ve eaten,” Frank said.

This made Gerard smile a bit. “You sound like Ray, all worried about my well-being,” he said.

A blush creeped up Frank’s cheeks, and he forced it down. “Ray tends to rub off that way. I think it’s his hair, it’s bewitched with responsibly or something.”

Gerard laughed, seeming more laid-back. When the food arrived, they both attacked it, even though Frank had already eaten and Gerard had been opposed to ever seeing food ever again only a few moments ago.

After Gerard had finished and was looking less dead, Frank turned to him. Gerard’s face immediately turned pale again, and he hunched over, as if that would help him avoid the topic.

“Gerard, can you please help me understand you a little better?” Frank asked, voice pitched high in its pleading.

Gerard stayed quiet, look morosely into his coffee cup and nibbling on his lip. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. “Okay, I’ll-I’ll let you in. But I won’t tell you everything all at once, I’ll. . . tell you facts every once in a while, or something. Is that okay, Frankie?”

Frank didn’t move as he processed. It was a weird agreement, but it was better than pressuring Gerard until their new-found friendship disintegrated. Also, it was an un traditional way to go around the traditional “getting to know” someone. But Frank wasn’t completely sold. “Where do you even start with something like that?” Frank said reasonably. “I’m not asking for your life story, Gee, I just want to know why the fuck you sweat colors or whatever it is that you do.”

Gerard raked his hands through his already crazy hair, looking strained. “It wont be a novel or anything, but it might help you understand without making me have to say anything outright.”

Oh, crap, Gerard was giving Frank that pleading look again. Frank’s resolve crumbled. “Okay, fine,” he sighed. “But I want the first fact right now.”

“I have a brother named Mikey, but we don’t- we don’t live together anymore,” Gerard said quietly,
back to looking into the depths of his cup.

Frank was still no closer to knowing what the hell was going on, but he nodded and shot Gerard a small smile.

Gerard smiled back, and winced. “Ouch, I am never drinking again. These headaches are the worst.”
That made Frank laugh, and Gerard tried his best not to join in.

“That’ll change, man,” Frank said, waving down the waiter to pay the bill.