Smiles Echo In My Memory

When we got off the bus about ten minutes later, we had to walk up the slight hill to Frank’s place. He had grabbed most of the bags, leaving me carrying only two. We reached the front door, and Frank looked at me, waiting.
“…What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Open the door,” he said, a slight smirk to his face.
“But… I don’t have the key,” I said, confused. He knew I was confused, and loved messing with me. He just lifted up all the paper bags he was holding, looking at me in the eye, the smirk evident on his face.
“No fucking way. Forget it,” I stated, realizing what he wanted me to do. He raised an eyebrow. “If you wanna sleep out here, that’s fine with me,” I sighed at his reply, moving towards him. “My front right one,” he stated, sticking out his pelvis. “I hate you for this,” I mumbled, sticking my hand in his pocket. I pulled of his set of keys, and quickly unlocked the door.
“About time, its fucking freezing,” Frank commented, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I rolled my eyes again, and raced upstairs to Frank’s room. All the lights were turned off, leaving the house dark and intimidating, meaning that Linda was probably asleep.
I heard Frank trudge into the kitchen downstairs, open the fridge and make other ruffling noises. I dumped the bags I was holding into the bottom of Franks’ wardrobe, were we always dumped stuff that needed ‘sorting out’ or going through after we’d bought stuff from town. I looked around the room, to find it in its natural messy state. Franks’ acoustic guitar lay on its stand in the corner, and his old, battered electric one laying on its own stand next to it. Various Green Day, The Misfits and Black Flag posters were scattered over his grey walls, and the double bed lay in one of the corners of the bedroom. The futon, which Frank insisted he sleep on when I was over, lay near it, by his TV, VCR and Super Nintendo. Clothes were scattered here and there, making the room feel homey. He wasn’t really messy, just kinda… well, lazy. I grabbed the pair of old boxers and a plain white tee that I used as pajamas whenever I was around, which was pretty often. I heard Frank slowly and quietly creep up the stairs and open the door silently, closing it behind him. He handed me a cold can of Diet Coke, which I took gratefully, smiling a thanks. He set all the bags he had been holding in the bottom of the wardrobe, where the two bags I had were kept.
“I’m just gonna go and change,” I whispered, holding up the boxers and tee, setting down the drink on the nightstand. He nodded, slipping off his jacket and emptying his pockets. I quietly went into the bathroom next door, changing quickly and removing my make-up with one of Linda’s wipes. When I got back to Franks’ room, he was sitting on the futon sipping on my Coke in his boxers and tee. We always shared a Coke; we didn’t see the point of having separate ones.
“I’m fucking tired, so give me a hug so I can go to sleep,” Frank yawned, setting the Coke on the nightstand, and holding out his arms. I smiled, bending down to hug him, but he stood up and wrapped his arms around me. “’Night, Frankie,” I whispered, burying my face into his chest. He kissed the top of my head, and moved towards the futon, his arms falling from my waist. We both climbed into our designated beds, both extremely tired.
“What’s the day tomorrow?” Frank asked from the other side of the room, stifling a yawn. “It’s, err…”I trailed off, trying to think. I was then that a clap of thunder sounded out from the open window, and I jumped up in bed, pulling the covers up with me. “FUCK!” I screeched, and then slapping my hand over my mouth. Linda was asleep, and she’s a really light sleeper. Frank burst into a fit of giggles, muffling them with his hands and the blankets. I groaned into the sheets, lying back down onto the bed. Frank stopped giggling, and took deep breaths. “Are you scared?”
“No, Frank, I’m fucking ecstatic that there’s a thunder storm going-” I was cut off by another clap of thunder, and I squealed, starting to shiver. “Sazzy? Are you okay?” Frank asked concern obvious in his voice. “No,” I whispered, pulling the covers around me tighter. “I hate thunderstorms,”
“Oh, I couldn’t tell,” he stated sarcastically, and I could hear him moving about in the darkness.
“W-what are you doing?” I whispered, shaking quietly.
“I’m coming over there, you idiot,” I heard more ruffling, and I felt Franks’ hand brush against my shoulder. “Shuffle over,” he whispered, pushing me slightly. I obliged, and moved over to the other side of the double bed. The bed sunk down slightly with the weight of Frank’s body, and he shuffled in under the covers next to me. I felt his slender arms wrap around me, and I buried my head into his chest again. He sighed quietly, and started to rub my back slowly, trying to stop my shivering. “Why are you so scared?” he asked quietly into my ear, smoothing back my hair with one hand. “I- hate- them,” I said in between breaths, fighting to gain my composure. “Sazzy?” he whispered into my ear, tightening his grip on me. “I just do,” I stated simply, before starting to shiver again.
“But… Why?” Frank whispered, pushing me back slightly to look at me in the eyes.
“F-Frank,” I uttered, finally gaining my composure in the beauty of his hazel eyes. He pulled me into his arms again just as another clap of thunder and bolts of lighting flashed and boomed in the skies, and I buried my head into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent.