Smiles Echo In My Memory

About an hour later, Frank, Rhea and I were sat at a table, cutting up material for our garments. Rhee had settled on a teal blue silk for her dress and I and Frank were cutting out pockets from grey material for our hoodies.
Suddenly, I threw down my scissors and frantically started to rub my fingers, trying to rub away the searing pain.
“AHHH, ARITHIRITIS!” Frank shot me a concerned look, and then turned to Rhea. “What the fuck?! Is she okay?” Rhea rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand, rubbing it gently. “She has ‘arthritis’,” she stated, making air quotes with her free hand.
“You don’t fucking know the pain, bitches,” I mumbled, feeling the pain etch away. Frank just looked at us like we were crazy. “I don’t understand. You have arthritis? I thought you get that when you’re old…?”
“Well, I don’t know. I don’t think it’s actually arthritis, but my bones just cramp up and start curling in, and it hurts like a bitch,” I stated, pulling my hand away from Rhee’s grasp.
“You’re fucking weird,” Frank muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Rhea replied to him in a whisper, earning a chuckle from Frank.
“Fuck you guys,” I said, smirking.

After Textiles, it was the end of the school day. As soon as the bell rang, Rhea dropped everything she was holding, grabbed her over-sized shoulder bag and ran towards the door before anyone else had even registered the bell went.
“Don’t say bye, then!” I called after her, placing my scissors on the table in front of me and crossing my arms. She didn’t seem to hear, and was out of the room in a flash.
“Walking home?” I asked, turning to Frank who was next to me. He nodded, putting away his stuff.
We started to walk home together, moving quickly before the hallways got congested full of kids and teachers. We reached the gates and started to walk down the huge hill our school was perched on, linking arms. “What lessons do we have tomorrow?” I asked, looking over at him.
“Umm… Hang on…” he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a crumpled timetable. He passed it to me, and I opened it carefully.

Frank A. Iero
Lesson Plan
Weeks A, B

WEEK A
Mon Ad.Sci(J.L), Math(T.B), Tex(L.C)
Tue Med.Stu(D.F), Math(T.B), RS(J.T)
Wed Math(T.B), RS(J.T), Drama(E.T)
Thu Sci(J.L), Math(T.B), Pysc(A.F)
Fri Drama(E.T), PE(//), Eng(A.K)

WEEK B
Mon Tex(L.C), Pysc(A.F), Ad.Sci(J.L)
Tue Med.Stu(D.F), Eng(A.K), PE(///)
Wed Eng(A.K), RS(J.T), Med.Stu(D.F)
Thu Ad.Sci(J.L), Pysc(A.F), Sci(J.L)
Fri Tex(L.C), Drama(E.T), Sci(J.L)

“So, tomorrow, we have Media Studies, Maths, and RE,” I stated, examining the ‘WEEK A’ section carefully.
“How the fuck do you read that?” Frank questioned, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Well, basically, the letters in brackets are the teachers’ initials. RS is really RE, but they wanted to change ‘Religious Education’ to ‘Religious Studies’ for some reason I don’t understand. But everyone still calls it RE. They changed every lesson apart from Maths and Drama to the abbreviation, because they’re weird like that,” I explained, pointing at the timetable when relevant. Frank still had a lost look, scanning the piece of paper. “I think I get it,” he said slowly, taking the crumpled sheet from my hands. I smiled. “You’ll get used to it.”

“What your middle name?” I asked, breaking the silence. We just crossed a road and were making our way towards the entrance of Preston Park.
He sent me a funny look. “Anthony. Why?”
“It said ‘Frank A. Iero’ on your timetable and it was anoyying me,” I said, smiling.
We’d got to Preston, and as soon as we entered the huge brick arch, we heard slurring of words, and the occaisonal bark of a laugh. The roughness of the voices were unnerving, and made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. I felt Frank shiver beside me, and I knew he felt the same. I looked over at him, grasping his hand. He squeezed it in reassurance, wrapping his other arm around my waist in protection. We held that position, with Frank’s right hand wrapped around me and my right hand and his left interlocked while we walked.
Then, we saw them. There were 3 tall, big, heavy men standing and stumbling around, beer and larger bottles and cans scattered all around them. Blood and alcohol stains were on their shirts, scars lining their faces, as well as blood.
It scared the shit out of me, and I hoped that the blood was theirs.
Frank tightened his grip on me, and I felt his body tense up. He held his breath, and started walking towards them, to go through them. I followed his lead, and kept my head down, hoping, praying, they wouldn’t do anything. They didn’t and we got to the other side of the park – the open, safe part. Frank let out a juddering breath, and fought to keep his breathing normal.
“Frank?! Are you okay?” I asked quickly, spinning around to face him. He shook his head vigourously, yanking out his cigarettes from his pocket, lit one and exhaled slowly. His behaviour scared me, and I was stuck on what to do. Frank looked at me, and sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m freaking you out,” he whispered, bowing his head down. I looked up at him, and wrapped my arms around him.
“What’s wrong?”
“I… I can’t tell you… I- It’s too soon,” he stuttered, whispering again, taking a drag on his cigarette. I nodded, and nuzzled my face into his neck. He smelt like cigarettes and… Frank. It was settling, comforting. He kept one arm around my waist, and the other at my hip, the cig dangling from two fingers. “We’d better go,” he whispered into my ear, his breathing normal again. I nodded slowly into his neck, and pulled away. He gripped my left hand, and we started to walk towards the edge of the park.
When we got there, I stopped and pointed out my house. “I live there,” my house was directly opposite Preston, and inclosed in a private area. It was nice, because it was in the centre of Brighton, but dangerous because of the same reason. Frank nodded, stubbing out his cancer stick. “I have to go right,” he said, looking up from the floor.
“Okay. Knock for me in the morning?”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sazzy,” he replied, pecking me swiftly on the cheek. I returned it, smiling. “Bye, Frankie.”
I quickly crossed the main road, and pushed my way through the big black iron gate to the private block of houses. I saw Frankie waiting for me to go in, and I waved as I unlocked the front door. He waved back, and I stepped in, closing the door.