The Untouchables

Gerard’s not used to having friends. It’s… strange. It’s unfamiliar, unprecedented, and unpredictable. For example, when Frank comes to school the next day suggesting a sleepover.

Gerard recoils. “Like, a slumber party?”

Frank scrunches his nose. “Don’t’ say it that way; that makes it sound weird or something.”

“Well, isn’t it kind of weird to begin with?” Gerard reasons.

“Only weird if you make it weird, Jeffery Dahmer,” Ray points out, grinning as he takes a bite of his sandwich.

Gerard turns a bit pink in the cheeks, and asks, “What would we even do?”

Frank bats his lashes and folds his hands effeminately, placing them on his knee. “Well, Gee, we’d start of by braiding Ray’s hair, then we’ll do your nails, we’ll talk about boys, and then finally, we’ll walk around in our panties and slips and have a pillow fight!”

Ray’s laughing, but Gerard manages to hide his giggling. “Very funny, but really, what would we do?”

Frank shrugs. “I don’t plan this shit. Probably play video games, maybe take a dip in Ray’s pool? We could camp outside too, and watch movies and play board games!”

“I don’t know,” Gerard hesitates.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Frank whines.

“I’m openly anti-fun,” Gerard remarks.

“Please!” Frank begs, shaking Gerard’s shoulder. “It’ll be great and you’re a liar you don’t hate fun because you played video games and wrestled with me, remember?”

Gerard rolls his eyes, propping his head up with his fist. He inspects his free hand’s nails, mumbling, “That was a mistake.”

“If you don’t come, I will drag you!” Frank squeaks.

Gerard chuckles. The thought of the one hundred and twelve pound Frank trying to drag a lard ass like himself into a car just strikes him as funny. “Like you’re capable of that.”

Frank smirks, “I pinned you down, remember?”

Gerard blushes again. “S-so?”

Ray groans, “Oh my God, Gerard! Man up, grow a pair, and eat Cheetos and watch Donnie Darko with Frank and I.”

“Fine,” Gerard gives in. “When is it?”

“Starts tomorrow, right after school,” Frank answers smugly, priding himself on the fact that Ray and him could persuade Gerard to go.

“Don’t get too excited, Frank; I still have to see if it’s okay with my mom,” Gerard reminds.

“How old are you, five?” Frank snorts.

“Said the freshman who still wears tighty whities,” Gerard shoots back. Frank turns scarlet, and Gerard smiles at this. “Look, I have to make sure that my younger brother has a ride home and he’s all taken care of before I go anywhere.”

Frank’s eyes widen as he grins like an idiot. “You have siblings?”

“One,” Gerard corrects. “A sibling. Uno hermano.”

“That means… I’m thirsty?” Ray guesses.

Gerard sighs. “Sure, something like that.”

“I wish I had a brother,” Frank grumbles.

“Trust me, it’s not at all to be cracked up about,” Gerard assures.

“You try being an only child!” Frank challenges.

“Oh my God, it’d be so terrible to receive all of the Christmas presents, have a higher income household, and be granted the undivided attention of my parents! Just dreadful!” Gerard mocks.

Frank is quiet, just picks at his salad halfheartedly.

Ray frowns. “That was kind of mean.”

“Sorry,” Gerard utters. He does feel bad; there’s a lingering guilt pulling at his gut. Frank is always so nice to him, and yet he has no problem tearing him down. The worst part is that most of the time, Gerard won’t be able to recognize that he did anything wrong.

Gerard tells his mother that night at dinner,

“Frank and Ray are having a sleepover tomorrow.”

His mother raises an eyebrow. “Boys are? At their age?”

“Yeah,” Gerard responds. “Your point?”

His mother shrugs, scooping some peas onto Gerard’s plate. “I just find it a bit unusual, that’s all.” She sits down, cutting into her roast. She points a fork at Mikey, asking, “Now what do I tell you boys about being unusual?”

Gerard groans as Mikey recites,

“Being unusual is not the equivalent of being bad.”

“Anyways,” Gerard continues, “They’ve invited me.”

His mother stops eating, and places her silverware down. “You’ve… you’ve been invited to a sleepover?”

Gerard nods. “Is that… strange?”

“Well, no offense honey, but I just didn’t know you really had friends,” his mother admits.

Mikey laughs, and their mother shoots him a glare in response, getting him to stop on a dime.

“Me neither,” Gerard agrees. “But they invited me, so do you think Mikey will be able to find a ride after school tomorrow?”

“Sure,” his mother replies. “Mikey, you can always ride home with the Kyle boy down the street.”

Mikey’s nose upturns in disgust at the mere mention of his name. “Mom, I hate that kid. He smells like shit.”

“Michael, watch your mouth,” she scolds.

“Sorry, but it’s the truth,” Mikey persists. “It’s freaking disgusting. He’s gross; I’m not riding home with him again.”

She narrows her eyes, insisting, “You will ride with him, you will be polite, and you will not tell him he stinks.”

Mikey opens his mouth to speak, but she takes the words from his mouth, proceeding,

“You will not ask about his shower routine, imply that something died in his brain, or ask if a farm’s nearby. Understand?”

“Gotcha,” Mikey answers.

“You’re mean, Mikes,” Gerard observes.

“You’re mean, too,” Mikey retorts. “Have you ever heard yourself speak?”

“Hey, shut up! At least I’m not mean to the smelly kid; that’s sooo 1992.”

“Boys!” their mom chides. “Not one more word from either of you, okay? I will not have my children being rude little jerks to each other.”

There’s a pause in the dinner conversation, and finally, Mikey asks, “Does Kyle have like Halitosis or something? Because if that’s the case, I could offer him a breath mint or-”

“Michael,” his mother cuts off. She holds her index finger to her lips, the classic shush sign.

Gerard brings his sleepover backpack to school the next day. Last night; he found it sad that he didn’t really know what to pack. He’s never been to a sleepover that wasn’t with relatives. He ended up bringing a pair of basketball shorts and a shirt to change into after school, a pair of plaid pajama bottoms, a change of plaid shorts and a tee for the next day, and finally, an extra pair of underwear. For non-clothing items he brings his laptop and charger, a few movies, his wallet just in case they decide to go anywhere, his cellphone and charger, a camera, and his Star Wars sleeping bag. He leaves them all in his car once arriving in the school parking lot; he’d be beaten up within seconds of carrying a Star Wars themed sleeping roll, as ridiculous as that is.

The school day is uneventful as usual, and once again, after the final bell, all three of the boys compress themselves into Ray’s tiny car, except this time, Frank joins Gerard in the backseat rather than sitting up front.

“Don’t you want to ride shotgun?” Gerard asks.

Frank shakes his head vehemently. “No; I want to sit by you.”

“What for?” Gerard interrogates warily.

Frank merely giggles, “Well, no real reason, I guess. Just to sit with you, silly.”

Gerard turns his back to the window as usual, but instead of outstretching his feet in front of him, he tucks them beneath him. He lets out a long sigh and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear.

“What’s wrong?” Frank worries, eyebrows knitted.

Gerard rubs his eyes and yawns. “Nothing; just tired.”

“Then sleep!” Frank squeaks. He lies against Gerard’s legs, curling up and closing his eyes at his feet.

“You can’t sleep on me!” Gerard protests, kicking his legs around and disrupting Frank’s resting spot.

Frank groans loudly and rolls to the other side of the backseat, grunting throughout the entire journey.

When they get to Ray’s house, the first thing both Frank and Ray want to do is swim in Ray’s pool. It’s really nice; it’s underground and large with a diving board. Gerard realizes that Ray’s parents must be just as, if not more, wealthy than Gerard’s family.

“Shit, I didn’t bring a swim suit!” Gerard realizes.

Frank knits his brows. “Who needs swim trunks?” With that, he strips off his shirt, revealing his bony physique. He kicks off his shoes, pulls his socks off and takes off his pants, leaving him in his grey briefs. He bundles everything up and tosses it in the car, and then runs and cannonballs into the pool.

Ray chuckles and removes his own clothes, and goes flying in after Frank in his red plaid boxers. That leaves Gerard standing, fully clothed, watching the two other boys swim in their skivvies. He sets his backpack down next to the car, and heads over, observing,

“You guys are very open.”

Frank shrugs. “Only weird if you make it weird.”

“Well, I’m not taking off my shirt, or pants,” Gerard decides.

Ray motions for Gerard to come forward, so Gerard tentatively sets his feet in the gutter of the pool as he leans towards Ray.

“What is it?”

Ray grabs Gerard’s ankle and yanks him into the pool, quickly splashing away so Gerard won’t fall on him.

Gerard surfaces, sputtering and wiping his soaked hair from his eyes. Frank’s laughing his little girl giggles, and Ray is guffawing and pointing at Gerard.

Gerard throws his drenched shirt off, and slips out of his pants as well, leaving him naked, spare his black boxer briefs.

“Nice to see you actually loosen up,” Frank claims, doing a backflip beneath the water. He resurfaces smiling, and spits water at Gerard.

Gerard tackles Frank, and the two are a mess of tangled limbs as they fight underwater. Finally, they break through the surface, gasping for air and chuckling.

The three swim for about forty minutes before finally heading inside. Gerard supposes that its times like these that being an only child has its perks; Gerard would not want Ray’s younger brother or sister or especially older brother or sister seeing him in his sopping wet, skin tight underwear.

They all change, but Frank just stays in his underwear until they dry; since he didn’t bring anything else to change into and is “too big downstairs to go commando comfortably”.

Ray guffaws at that, retorting, “Yeah right. You wear briefs all the time; I can tell you don’t have anything, Iero.”

“I do so!” Frank insists. “If you weren’t a pervert, I’d show you to prove it.”

“Wow, you two have officially become drunken college guys,” Gerard notices, stuffing a handful of pretzels into his mouth.

The boys watch Donnie Darko and eat crunchy hot Cheetos, just as was intended. Ray has seen it approximately twenty two times, so his interest is dull. But Frank, who has seen the film about thirty eight times, is totally absorbed into each scene, and perks up whenever his name is said in the film (Donnie, the protagonist, has an imaginary friend named Frank). Gerard watches with a sparked interest; having never seen it before. They watch the Breakfast Club next, followed by Orphan, and then continued by The Dark Knight. Frank falls asleep halfway through the Dark Knight, and Ray was knocked out by the ending of Orphan, leaving only Gerard. He sees these two teens lying next to him, lids heavy and shut, and he regards them almost as strangers, and it’s upsetting.

Gerard’s been hanging out with them for about a week now, and he hardly knows these people, these two boys sprawled out in front of him. All he really knows about Frank is that his laughs are high pitched and he wears a lot of briefs. As for Ray, he merely is aware of the fact that he is practically Frank’s mother. He doesn’t even really know Ray at all; just associates him with Frank. And it makes Gerard feel guilty as Hell. He doesn’t know anything important. He doesn’t know if Frank wakes up in the middle of his night to finish his homework. He’s not sure if Ray has ever wanted to just be gone. He doesn’t know what they want to do with their lives, what they think of the world, or if they even want to be a part of it.

Gerard decides he’ll find out this information, and carry it around with him as though it were his dying mother’s last words. He wants to know these people; not what they look like, what shows they like, or how they dress. He wants to dissect them, to dig around inside of them and see what he can find.

And the way to do it? More sleepovers. But not like this. Instead of movies, they need late night discussions, hearts to hearts. He wants to talk to them about the flaws of the U.S. education system at three a.m. in the morning. He wants to know if they ever feel sorry for not the Columbine victims, but the shooters.

Looking at Frank, he realizes, he wants to know if Frank ever wishes that he had someone to wake up next to every morning. And moreover, if that someone could be him.