Fickle Reticence

“I’ve never been on a date,” Gerard says as they’re walking down the sidewalk. Frank doesn’t have a car. He used to have shoes with wheels in them, but then he realized that his generation was going to rule the country someday, and he had an existential crisis.

“I find that hard to believe,” Frank says.

“Well when you’re the weirdo dude who wears a skirt to school you’re pretty much exiled. I didn’t have time for dating, I was too busy getting pushed into lockers,” Gerard replies, “and the really annoying part is that it’s happening again.”

“It’s not going to happen again,” Frank says trying to mollify Gerard’s bitterness.

“I got punched in the face, Frank,” Gerard reminds him.

“Well, but that might have just been because you were taking that flyer down. If it’d been me I’d have gotten punched in the face too.”

“It was intolerance, and there’s no way you can swing it to change that fact,” Gerard states.

“Okay, so let’s try to not talk about that. For one thing, it makes me kind of sad to hear you talk like that, and for another thing, I don’t want this to be about what you are, Gee, I want it to be about who you are,” Frank replies.

“Okay, you’re right. You’re right, I’m being a downer,” Gerard nods.

“It’s okay, I get it. Well, I don’t, I’ve never had to live through the shit you live through, but I understand that it’s hard on you. I’m not going to make fun of you, Gee. I wouldn’t do that. To me, you’re pretty fantastic, and I wouldn’t change anything about you. I’m not saying that you don’t get hate, I’m not saying that at all, but you’re not going to get it from me.”

“God,” Gee says, “I really hate the fact that you can just say things like that. No one just strings words together like that. Were you fucking Shakespeare in another life?”

“If you’re implying that I was fucking Shakespeare that would probably have made me Anne Hathaway,” Frank says.

Gerard snorts, “I’m not sure whether that was technically a Shakespearean joke or a grammar joke, but it was really bad, and I’m disappointed in you.”

“Kind of both, and I royally apologize,” Frank replies. He doesn’t know why, but that was simultaneously the cutest and weirdest laugh he’s ever heard.

“My point was that you have a big vocabulary, not that you fornicated with The Bard.”

“I seriously doubt I’ve ever heard anyone sound so impressed with just words. True words at that. I’m not a poet, I just really like you and I’m calling it as it is,” Frank shrugs.

“No one is that good at just talking, and I hate that you’re not even trying. Fuck, what must I sound like?”

“I like the way you talk!” Frank says.

“Yeah whatever,” Gerard says, “I hope you’re not wasting all your money on me. You know, I wouldn’t mind raiding a vending machine.”

“Really?” Frank asks, excitedly. Honestly, Doritos sound fantastic to him.

“I’m cool with it if you are.”

Frank grins at Gerard, remembering why he likes them in the first place.

“Let’s go find us a vending machine!” Frank says, grabbing Gee’s hand.

“Only if you buy me Oreos,” Gerard says.

“Done,” Frank laughs, and then he pulls Gerard behind him along the sidewalk.

About twenty minutes later, they’re sitting on Gerard’s bed with an assortment of overly salty snacks that they found in the vending machine down the hall. Frank made sure to buy Gee Oreos. Then she threw one at Frank and it hit him in the forehead. Apparently it’s funny to hit Frank in the face with cookies.

“Was that entirely necessary?” Frank asks, when the Oreo falls into his lap, and leaves crumbs on his jeans.

“It was more than necessary,” Gerard explains, “it was vital for the continued existence of the human race.”

“Really?” Frank asks, picking the Oreo up and rolling it in his hands. “So then it doesn’t hurt if I just throw it back at you.”

He tosses it at Gee, and it only barely makes it that far before it falls down her side, and onto the bedspread.

“Well no, because now you’ve reversed my progress,” Gerard says, “I have to throw it back at you or else the moon will fall out of the sky. Without the moon, how will we ever have cheese? If we don’t have cheese than Italy will certainly have some sort of concentrated explosion, and without Italy, everyone will be sad so we’ll all just die from lack of pasta.”

“That’s rather grim. All of this because of an Oreo?” Frank asks as Gerard hits him right in the nose. The aim was better that time, and she snorts when it makes contact.

“Well what else? Oreo’s are essential for human survival, so it makes sense that they have the power to control the moon,” Gee says.

“Your theory seems sound to me,” Frank says, “Except for this one tiny thing.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” Gerard asks.

“Well, you see, Oreos have cream in the middle,” Frank says, pulling the cookie apart, “which presumably has some sort of dairy in it. Probably some milk and sugar and other shit. You said that if the moon were to fall out of the sky, then we would no longer have cheese, but in order to save the moon you have to throw an Oreo at me which would then save all the cheese. I’m just curious as to where you think cheese comes from.”

Gee grins at him and says with no amount of uncertainty, “Cheese comes from the same place that babies come from. Outer space.”

“You’re so fucking weird,” Frank rolls his eyes, and grabs another potato chip from the bag he was working on before he’d been hit with a flying wafer-like projectile.

“And you’re bad at dodging things.”

“Fair is fair,” Frank shrugs. “So what does this moon falling out of the sky principle have to say about throwing Skittles?”

“Well if you throw Skittles, I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you,” Gerard says looking absolutely serious.

“Oh yeah?” Frank asks, before he grabs the bag of Skittles. He tears the packet open carefully, picks out an orange one, because he’s not very fond of the orange ones, and then he throws it at Gee.

“Wow you really crossed a proverbial line there, didn’t you?”

“Ah yes. The highly regarded, extremely renowned don’t-throw-Skittles-at-me-or-I-will-slaughter-you line,” Frank laughs.

“That’s exactly what it’s called,” Gee grins, and puts the bag of Oreo’s on the duvet beside her. “I’m going to have to kill you now.”

“Well you gotta do what you gotta do,” Frank says.

Gerard’s either really quick, or Frank has slow reflexes, or both. Though Frank did just get pelted with food without even having time to flinch, so it’s very likely that he’s just really slow. In any case, Gerard pounces on top of Frank, making him try to repress from laughing at how odd the situation is.

“Hi,” Gerard says, looking down at Frank. He’s sprawled across the bed on his back with Gerard basically on top of him. It would be awkward or suggestive if Frank weren’t so amused.

“Hello,” he says, trying not to laugh.

“I really don’t want to kill you,” Gerard says with a sigh.

“Well how about you misspell kill with two S’s?” Frank asks.

“But ‘L’ and ‘S’ are on opposite ends of the keyboard,” Gee says.

“Well you can kiss me or you can kill me, it’s your choice.”

Gee takes a moment to mock a face of contemplation, before grinning and bending down to close the few inches of free space Frank has left.

Now it’s not like Frank goes around kissing people willy-nilly, but he can say with a certain amount of confidence that Gerard is very good at it. Not that there’s necessarily such a thing as a bad kisser, because when you like someone, it doesn’t matter how good they kiss, it’s perfect in your eyes. It’s safe to say that Frank really likes the way Gerard kisses.

Gerard’s never really kissed anyone before Frank. Sure there was that prissy girl at summer camp when he was eleven, but that doesn’t really count. Especially because the name of that girl escapes Gerard’s brain. Something spelled with an ‘I’ that shouldn’t have been. Lori or Brandi or Ami or something to that extent. Whatshername wasn’t a very good kisser. It felt more like a carwash than a make out.

See the problem is that Gee has no idea what to do though. Not only is she unaware of first date etiquette, she also doesn’t know what the fuck you’re supposed to do when you’re in the precarious position of whatever the hell kind of mindset she’s in. She’s aware that Frank is really hot, and way too good for her, and doesn’t understand why, of all the people Frank could have, he’s here with her. He could have anybody, and he’s here with Gerard which suggests some sort of incident in Frank’s childhood where he was dropped on his head at some point.

“Whoa, hold on,” Frank says, because Gerard is being either presumptuous, or clueless as all hell.

“Oh fuck sorry. Was that not okay?” Gee asks. She may or may not have let her fingers stray south, and Frank may or may not have had a reaction like one of those pens you use in grade school with the animal head on the top that were always really popular, because when you squeeze the end it makes the eyes pop out.

“It’s uh... well,” Frank says, and now the position has become awkward.

“Fuck, I ruined a moment,” Gerard says rolling off of Frank, and over to the edge of the bed that’s pressed up against the wall.

“Gerard, it’s just that, like, I like you, but I’m not going to sleep with you just because we went out on a date,” Frank says.

“I... you don’t want to sleep with me?”

“What?” Frank exclaims, “When did I say that? I didn’t say that! I just am not comfortable having sex after a first date. I don’t play like that.”

“Is it because I’m a boy?” Gerard asks.

“You’re totally putting words into my mouth, Gee. For one thing, you’re not a boy, at least not officially-”

“But physically I am,” Gerard says.

“Well yeah, sure, physically. Physically I am too. Physically so is Stephen Fry or Bob Dylan, but that doesn’t matter, okay? You’re thinking way too much into this, Gerard. It’s not about the fact that you’re a boy physically or anything like that. It’s about the fact that I wouldn’t have sex with anyone after a first date.”

“Are you sure?” Gerard asks, “No one’s ever asked me out before so I don’t know what’s supposed to happen. I just thought, you know, like I’m not that special, I just thought maybe I could actually offer something.”

“What do you think I like you for? Your nose? Your hair follicles? You have to account for your own personality,” Frank says.

“I don’t know, I’ve never spent any time with myself,” Gee says. “What am I even like?”

She collapses down beside Frank on her back, and then looks over at him innocuously, with a curious angle structuring her eyebrows. Frank sighs, and turns his head to look right into Gee’s eyes, which are really pretty up close. He’s fairly sure that there are entire planets and worlds in those hazel eyes. Frank stumbles for a minute, trying to take his mind off of how gorgeous Gee is.

“Well,” Frank says, assuming that wasn’t a rhetorical question, “you’re nice. That’s such a bland word, but you are. Kind? I guess that word makes more sense. Basically you’re just a good person, and that’s something that a lot of people aren’t these days, you know? A lot of people are really selfish, and they’re too busy being confrontational about everything, so they don’t find the time to just be a good fucking person. That’s what you are, and I really like that. You’re also a giant dork, but I like dorky people.”

“I am a dork,” Gerard nods with a satisfied face.

“And you’re proud of it,” Frank says, laughing at the expression on Gee’s face after being told she’s a dork.

“I am. I’m a proud dork. You’re a dork too.”

Frank shrugs, “Yeah, I’m pretty much a dork. Not as dorky as you though. You know more about Star Wars than you do about the U.S. Constitution.”

“That’s because Star Wars is interesting.”

Frank snorts, “The constitution is basically the foundation that the country runs on.”

“Yeah, but Star Wars has light sabers and Harrison Ford,” Gerard says.

“And that’s all that matters in life?” Frank asks, and Gee nods, “What about Samuel L. Jackson. Everyone likes him.”

“I refuse to acknowledge episodes one through three exist.”

“Oh your one of those people, are you?” Frank asks.

“If you’re not one of those people then I think we’re going to need to part ways,” she replies.

“You refuse to associate with people who like the newer films?” Frank laughs.

“This is not funny business, I’ll have you know,” Gerard says looking completely serious. “If you’re deal breaker is Bigfoot skepticism, than mine is that Star Wars episodes one through three are shit.”

“Don’t worry then,” Frank says, “I will never bring the new movies up ever again.”

“Promise?” Gee asks, and holds up her hand, raising the pinky finger.

“I promise,” Frank laughs, twisting his pinky with Gerard’s, “there will be no talk of whatever it was we were just talking about.”

~*~*~*~

They end up talking about anything but the aforementioned movie for way longer than they’d anticipated. Frank doesn’t even realize it’s past midnight until he looks over at the clock.

“Wow is it really that late?” Frank asks.

“I guess so,” Gee shrugs, “should you be going back to your room then?”

“Yeah, probably. Your brother will kill me if I don’t,” Frank says.

“Mikey wouldn’t kill you. He might maim you, but he doesn’t have enough intent to actually murder you.”

“Comforting,” Frank says, pulling himself into a sitting position on the bed. Gerard pulls herself up beside Frank as well. She watches him as he tries to fix his staticky hair that’s sticking out in weird ways.

“You look stupid with that hair,” Gerard says.

“You are stupid in general,” Frank retorts.

“Mean.”

“Not untrue.”

Gee shrugs, “I didn’t say it was untrue, but it was mean all the same.”

Frank shakes his head, and picks himself up off of the bed. Gerard follows quickly behind to walk him over to the door.

Frank turns to look at Gee for a few moments before he grabs the doorknob, and makes an attempt to go. Before he can actually leave though, Gerard calls him back.

“Hey Frank,” Gee says before Frank closes the door.

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to tell you, uh,” she stops, and bites down on her already raw looking bottom lip. “I wanted to tell you that I like the way you make me feel like I’m not a worthless piece of shit.”

“And I like making you realize that you’re not even close to worthless,” Frank replies.

Gee smiles at him, a real, happy smile. A little bashful, but genuine all the same. Frank can’t help but grin back, because he really does like seeing Gerard smile whenever he possibly can.

As far as things go, especially when you evaluate present company, this has been a great first date. Not only that, it’s probably the best first date that the world has ever seen. Even despite the awkward patch in the middle, which they both completely forgot about as they kept talking, it was perfect. The fact that they even got some fresh air before bailing on the scary outdoors thing and pigged out on junk food. That’s what made it special though. It was the kind of date Frank would go on, not some big fancy restaurant where people call their waiters Garson. That would have felt fake, this was a real date. A real date that went just as Gee would have expected, but it still managed to exceed her expectations. Considering the fact that it’s Frank, her expectations were pretty damn high.

“See you later?” Frank asks.

Gerard nods and Frank takes a quick second to think about it, before he leans in a little and pecks her on the cheek. It’s a first date, and for the love of god, Frank’s never gotten to give someone a goodnight kiss.

“I like you a lot, Frank,” Gee says.

Frank backs away a few steps, in a slow descent down the hall before he says, “I like you a lot too, Gee.”

With that, Frank turns around, and heads for the door. He hears the door close behind him, and he looks back for a second to see Gerard’s door. Frank doesn’t know why, but he feels himself blushing a little.