He Can Only Hope

It’s Graduation Day. The burning sun is high in the summer sky melting everyone beneath their navy blue costumes and caps. There’s smiling faces surrounding the site, hundreds of outstretched arms comforting friends and even people running around with video cameras in hope of savouring the last moments in Belleville High. You watch the scene’s unfold before you, one seems to be of the most interest to you; a couple hugging, kissing shedding tears of love and sadness; their probably going to different colleges.

“Yo Gerard, got any last words?” a random guy thrusts a big grey video camera in your face. Have you got any last words? Anything you’d like to say to your sheep?

“Uh, I can’t wait to get out of here,” you mutter earnestly. The school is your palace, its people are your workers yet you still want to leave so badly; has the popularity become too much? Your blond devilish friend struts over and throws her bony arm around your slightly hunched shoulders. Her eyes are beaming yet she feigns shock.

“Aww, you’re not gonna miss me?” a pout has formed across her glittering pink lips. The sun shines down on her beautiful exterior and she looks like a model or a celebrity shining beneath ever present eyes- even with the dull blue graduation overalls. You cock your eyebrows rudely forgetting about the camera that’s recording you both.

“No.”

“Oh Gerard,” the model like friend of yours slaps your shoulder playfully whilst giggling. She’s had the hots for you for two years now, unlike Frank’s fetish, you’ve been fully aware of her liking for you. All the boys in the school would kill to have her, yet, you can’t wait to get away from her. All the boys that is, except for Frank, he’s never liked another being other than you.

“He doesn’t mean it really,” she reassures the camera before wrapping her arms around you and kissing your cheek sloppily. For the sake of the camera you grin and bear it.
Did you know Frank’s watching attentively from under a nearby tree? The heat is proving too much for him, yet he refuses to take of that green hoodie you gave him. He’s worn it with pride every day since you gave it to him. And even though you never shared another word with him, it doesn’t matter, because in his eyes, you’ve given him a piece of your heart. By god, does he cherish it.

Do you remember how your friends where hot on your case when they noticed the dishevelled boy wearing your hoodie? Oh how they stressed over the possibilities, but shamefully you buckled under the pressure of popularity and denied any accusations of giving your hoodie to Frank. “He must have gotten the same one as me,” you shrugged carelessly even though your heart was beating within its cave, you never quite found the reason why it was doing so. Maybe the possibility of being linked with such a beautiful being appealed to you- of course in everyone else’s eyes the kid is a disgrace and should have nothing to do with someone as high class as you. If they ever examined the item of clothing, they would have noticed the black paint stain you got in art class one time.

As her shiny pink lips squish against your pale cheek his heart drops a tiny bit and he subconsciously nuzzles the sleeve of your green hoodie; his ticking machine beats dramatically fast- today may be the last time he ever see’s you again. You look so beautiful to him, he wouldn’t even be able to put it into words if he tried, and he tries often. But, today you seem to glow beneath the sun like a fallen star or a diamond locket. It’s as though you’re deliberately trying to tease him with what he can never have. Everything about you seems to stand out to him ever more than normal and he tries to absorb every inch of your appearance. God, what he’d do to be the one placing that kiss on your cheek, how he wants to feel your body against his in an innocent cuddle.

The blond pulls away from you and the camera man strolls away content with his footage. She leads you back over to the rest of your gang; their all discussing colleges and such. You’re going to study in New York and you can’t wait. Although you tell them you don’t want to go and you want to be able to ‘hang out every day’, you can’t wait to get away from everyone. You want to make something of yourself, be your own person not the son of Donald Way. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life relying on your father’s money,
you’d rather be poor. Like Frank.

At least he’s happy.

Although Frank doesn’t know it; you pay a lot of attention to him. You’ve noticed how he wears your hoodie every day; you think it’s adorable even if your friends think it’s disgusting to wear the same item of clothing for more than a day. You’ve also grown to love that smile of his; it works as a kind of drug for you. Maths has become your favourite subject too; you get to see Franks smile a whole lot in maths. It substitutes the numbers on the paper and abolishes any negativity within you for a whole forty five minutes. If only you knew that all the indulging has a deeper meaning.

As you join in with the useless banter with your friends you notice Frank under a nearby tree nuzzling your hoodie. Your stomach tightens considerably. You don’t even notice that he’s not wearing the navy blue overalls like everyone else; unlike the rest of the crowd he can’t afford them. So, as usual, he stands out like a sore thumb, allowing himself to become a quick fix for the self esteem to those who bully him.

He sees you staring at him and pulls down the green sleeve immediately; within seconds he’s smiling away hoping one final time to win your heart completely. If only he knew. If only you knew.

You want to go over to him so badly but you know you can’t; you don’t have the guts to step away from your herd. What would they say? What would they think? You won’t risk it, not even for the happiness of the beautiful soul beneath the dappled tree. If you only go over there you’d improve this final day, it’d be one that you’d never forget. It might just be magical. But no, you don’t have the bottle.

The principle, a greying man, calls for everyone to make their way into the foyer for the ceremony and speech. Your stomach lurches a little again, whilst all your friends are chattering on with excitement. Your mother is going to be in the large hall, probably at the front because she’s high priority, you want to make her proud yet you don’t really care about her. Maybe you just want to show her that you’re on your way to being your own person; that you don’t need her or your father any more.

Your father, he won’t come today- he’d rather go golfing in London with his business companions than watch you collect a piece of paper. Truth? It hurt when your mother told you. It stung like lemon juice on a fresh cut, but it drove you forward in your determination to break away from them.

All the graduates walk into the hall in pairs, your second to the front in the line with your model like friend, behind the head girl and boy. Frank is five rows behind you and can make out your silky hair. It looks extra shiny today. His lack of uniform seems to attract way too much attention but he doesn’t seem to notice; he does however, notice his mum near the back row waving with pride. He blushes a little and waves back.

Once everyone has taken their place on the benches, the head boy stands up to make a speech. Turns out, it’s the same dude with the video camera. People clap and cheer when he takes centre stage; you focus on him rather than your mother.

“Today, is the first day of the rest of our lives…” he states into the microphone, his voice bounces of the walls and penetrates everyone’s ears. The statement appeals to you; it seems too hopeful yet it’s true. It doesn’t remind people of the failures they could make, or the tough times that life throws at you, it just makes everything seem achievable like it’s there in your reach all you’ve got to do is lean over and grab it. If only it was.

Blondie stretches out her hand and rubs it over your knee. You look at her questioningly but she just smiles back at you oblivious to your distaste for her. You feel a pair of eyes burning into and you instantly look over at your mum, she stares down at Blondie’s hand happily, then looks back up to you. I guess she thinks you two are an item.

Before long the speech is over and the principle takes the stage. You don’t pay attention to him and think about ways to remove your ‘friends’ hand off your thigh before you throw up. Why hasn’t it ever occurred to you that the only reason you only feel weirded out by girls touching you, is because you’re gay? How can you be so oblivious to your orientation when it slaps you in the face every maths lesson?

“…Frank Iero,” Your rip your gaze away from the unwanted hand on your thigh and over to the principle, sure enough a flash of green catches your eye. Inside your chest your heart is beating faster and faster and your breaths become shallow. Just seeing the boy makes you sweat.

A few giggles can be heard but he doesn’t seem to notice. Why the fuck are people so unkind to him? you wonder.

“Oh god not charity boy,” Blondie groans rolling her eyes. You glare at her angrily which shocks her a little. Even you don’t know why you’re being so protective over him.

He picks up an old acoustic guitar that has the letters G.E.E scribbled in black on the body. You wonder what they stand for and why tiny, tiny hearts have been drawn between each letter rather than dots. If only knew that Gee is his abbreviated version of your name. His own special tag he’s developed for you, from the heart. You look over at your mum quickly, her eye brows are knitted together and you can tell she doesn’t think much of the destitute boy upon the stage. You want to go over and scream at her for being so snobby but you don’t – obviously.

Within seconds, a sweet tune is being picked out on the guitar and his delicate voice pours through the microphone. All the giggles have stopped and even your mother’s eyebrows have risen. Such beautiful music from such a beautiful being. The lyrics seem to appeal to you in a way a lot of others don’t, they seems so pure, so real. You can tell he has talent just by the way his expressions melt into the tune. What you don’t know however, is that this song is one of dozens he’s written about you. Every letter, every syllable, every note was born from pure love and he refuses to sing anything other than truth. One day he’s going to share these songs with the world, he’s going to tell them all about you. Today he’s becoming one step closer to his goal. In reality, you’re the luckiest boy in the world.

The song finishes too soon for your liking and you just want to jump up onto the stage and- well you don’t know what you want to do. But you want to show you’re proud of him, he looks down at you once he’s finished as everyone applauds. You can’t bring your hands together because you’re locked in his gaze. While looking at you he’s trying to tell you he loves you, he’s hoping with all his soul that your understanding. He would have told the whole crowd there and then but he didn’t want to put you in that position. He doesn’t care for his own embarrassment because he wouldn’t experience any, he couldn’t be prouder that you hold his heart. Plus, he won’t be going to college next year as he can’t afford the funding, he’s going to stay in Jersey and earn more cash for the family; even though it’s a well known fact that without a degree it’s hard to excel in your work but he has to make do with what he can get. And maybe one day, he’ll become a musician and really tell the world about you.

As he steps of the stage you notice him wave at a women near the back row, his mum. She looks a lot like him and you instantly see the resemblance. They have the exact same hazel eyes. Her own are brimming with tears and its clear to the world how proud she is of her son, even though he has no navy overalls and is clad with messy hair, he couldn’t look more perfect to the Italian women. A red tinge appears in his face as he sits back down on the bench. You focus in on your own mother, who seems to have lost concentration and is picking at her new diamante manicure, one hand cost as much as the Iero’s weekly wages. Her eyes are emotionless when she looks upon her surroundings, upon you; unlike Frank’s mother, she never shows if she’s proud of you, she just says a casual, well done. If you’re lucky a small kiss on the head- if you’re lucky.

The ceremony begins and the principle starts calling out names, your one of the first even though your second name begins with one of the last letters in the alphabet; amazing what money does isn’t it?

You stand up casually every one of the graduates screaming for you, your mother giving a subtle applause her fingers tapping together gently, probably not even making noise. You shake the principles hand unwillingly and take your certificate, as you head back to your seat once again you catch Frank smiling at you, he looks proud. He believes you’re going to be great when you’re older.

When you get back onto your bench, Blondie leans over to you seductively and whispers ‘congratulations’. Your mother smiles approvingly. Frank however, wants to shrink into himself; although he’s pleased if she makes you happy, he was hoping today he would be able to look at you and only you, not you with her clinging onto your every move.
He doesn’t know if you’re dating her or not. He might never know.

You see him looking and feel the need to get her off you instantly, no matter what it does to your appearance. You shove her away carelessly before hissing harsh words into her face. Have you realised why you don’t want Frank to get the wrong idea from her actions? No, didn’t think so.

Frank’s turn to collect his certificate comes up and he shuffles up to the principle nervously; his tattered trainers squeak against the floor every few steps. The greying man scowls at his lack of costume but the scruffy boy doesn’t notice, he’s just pleased to actually be awarded for something. You watch his every move like a hawk, your heart beats in time with each of his footsteps, your eyes hardly blinking – why don’t you realise your attraction to him?

His mother cheers loudly from the back, her eyes still sparkling with tears as she yells with pride. She couldn’t be more proud of her baby, even though he didn’t win the scholarship to college; as far as she’s concerned he’s done the best he could. A tingle works its way into your tummy. Is that jealousy? Are you jealous of Frank’s relationship with his parents? You have everything compared to him, everything down to the money to the ‘friends’ yet you still manage to find something else to desire. However, love is something money can’t buy and you’re starting to realise it. Sure, it can buy you ‘friends’ but not love.

If you only opened your eyes properly once over the last five years you’ll have noticed Frank had given you his entire heart- for free.

Once everyone has collected their certificates the crowds rush out of the foyer and back into the suns gaze. Some groups throw their caps into the cloudless sky and watch as they fall back to the floor aimlessly; others hug their friends and partners tearfully. It really is goodbye.

Your mother steps up to you and ruffles your hair, “Well done,” you smile slightly looking into her eyes. She doesn’t really care. “Look, I’ve got an appointment for a dress fitting so I’ve got to be off, I’ll see you later okay?” with that she walks off and into the BMW that’s parked in the drive way. If she had her way you would have gone to boarding school, but you chose to go to a comprehensive and she couldn’t persuade you.

A few meters away you notice Frank and his mother; she’s hugging and kissing him over and over, while voicing her pride for him. He gushes along with her compliments; you step over to a nearby tree and watch them. For the first time you’re the one under the tree all alone watching something you can never have. You and Frank seemed to have reversed somehow.

Whilst watching you come to a painful realisation. You’re never going to see Frank again; ever. His glittering hazel eyes will never lock with your own again, that smile you feed off will never give you the fix you need. You’ll never be graced with his beauty again- no more math lessons, no more Frank. It hurts and you don’t know why. It feels as though someone is reaching deep within you and ripping something out, something that you need- something like your heart. You could just go over to him and ask for a contact number or something; but you never would. Wimp.

Gradually Frank’s mum starts to calm down and he glances around for you, his search is short lived when he sees you beneath the tree. If you look on the bark closely you can see he’s carved both of your initials into it. He wants to cry; this is the farewell of his life and he’s not even going to be talking to you. He wants so much for you to know he loves you, but he won’t tell you – you have to work it out.

You’re both hurting from stubbornness, if you would just get over yourself and go over to him, something truly special will blossom, you’ll realise that you too feel love.
Frank smiles one final time and you melt, your legs scream for you to stand the fuck up but you hush them. Slowly he turns around and begins to walk away. Every step he takes, hurts more than the last – for both of you. He’s walking away from the one thing that means more to him than anything else in the world; he’s walking away from his heart, his love. However, although he’s losing you, he’s sure to keep his beloved green hoodie; he’ll treasure it with his life because to him, it’s a promise. A promise that you’ll always be with him, no matter what. He has a slice of your heart.

If only he knew he’s walking away with more than just a slice of your heart.