Butterfly Kisses

Chapter 9

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Mikey called as Ray walked through the door.

“Hey, it took me a while to get some new strings, okay?” he said defensively, placing the instrument on the counter next to the rest of the presents. Gerard rolled his eyes.

“Look, we all know you’re a guitar god, Ray. You don’t get to make excuses.”

“Gerard, on the other hand- hey!” Mikey had started to speak, but Bob hurled a drumstick dangerously close to his face.

The doorbell rang, and Gerard jumped up to answer it, still laughing. Frank stood there, staring up at him with a bright smile.

“Hey, Frank,” Gerard said, stepping aside to let him in. He gave a small laugh and darted over to the rest of the group. The others greeted him warmly as Gerard’s mom brought out a pizza and set it on the coffee table. They didn’t bother getting plates and instantly began devouring it.

“This is the best pizza ever,” Ray said, most of it getting lost since he was talking with his mouth full. Gerard had to laugh. As much as his mom loved to embarrass him in front of his friends, her cooking always made up for it.

“You guys are so lucky,” said Bob. “You get this every day. My family lives on salad and crap like that.”

“Th-th-thanks,” Frank managed to whisper. Gerard gave him a smile, then stood up and grabbed as many of the presents as he could from the counter. Mikey went to help him.

“I know you might find this a little strange, but we have this tradition of presents before cake,” Gerard explained as they set everything down in front of Frank, temporarily turning down the volume on the TV. Frank’s eyes widened in shock.

“Is th-that…f-f-for m-me?”

“Of course,” said Bob. “Except they only do this to keep me from getting cake for as long as possible.”

Mikey rolled his eyes. “You’ll survive.”

Frank ignored all the boxes around him and immediately reached for the guitar. His fingers brushed the newly tuned strings, and his eyes widened as a flash of color appeared before him. Ray showed him how to hold it and gave him a few basic tips about playing, but it seemed like he was hardly even listening anymore, still amazed that someone had done something so nice for him.

“Frank? You still in there?” Gerard asked, waving a hand in front of his face. Frank smiled, a few tears clinging to the corners of his eyes.

“I…I l-l-love it.”
-
Gerard followed Frank down the hallway from a safe distance. He had been trying to keep his friend from getting hurt as much as possible, but after suffering a black eye from protecting him, he wanted to keep himself from getting hurt as well. His mother tended to overreact to the slightest bruise, and if she called the school about his injuries, he knew it would only get worse.

Frank had stopped walking, staring up at something. Gerard stepped closer and saw Matt leaning against his locker, facing away from the sixth grader and having an animated chat with his friends. A wide strap crossed over the back of Matt’s neck, with the word NIKON clearly printed on it. Gerard saw a few letters written underneath in whiteout, and he realized it was Frank’s name.

“Hey.” He grabbed Matt’s shoulder and abruptly turned him around. Sure enough, the camera hung around his neck, slightly battered but still in one piece. Gerard narrowed his eyes. “So pathetic you have to steal now, Matt?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered lazily. Gerard grabbed his shoulders and slammed him against the lockers.

“Give me the camera and I’ll consider leaving your face intact.”

“You’re so mean, Gerard,” Matt said, looking sad and trying to sound hurt. Gerard stepped back, waiting until the freshman was a few feet further away from the wall, then curled one hand into a fist and punched him. He staggered backwards, but before he had to defend himself, his friend Dom stepped forward and kicked Gerard, delivering a few punches as well. Gerard jumped to his feet to fight back, but a teacher pulled them apart and dragged them both to the principal’s office, Matt snickering behind them.
-
“Sorry I’m late,” Gerard said as he walked through the double doors leading outside. Frank gasped when he saw the huge purple bruise forming on Gerard’s neck. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll live.”

He took one shoulder strap of his backpack off and turned it around, pulling something out and handing it to Frank. “I got this back for you.”

Frank gave an almost-squeal and hugged the camera close, inspecting it for any major damages. He put it around his neck and wrapped his jacket around it like it was a lost puppy he was trying to keep warm. Gerard gave him a small smile, ignoring the soreness from the action.

Once they got back to Frank’s house, the sixth grader immediately ran down the hallway to his room. Gerard followed and sat on the floor next to him.

“I got you something,” Gerard said slowly, drawing the sheets of paper from his backpack and placing them in front of Frank. The sixth grader finally managed to tear his eyes away from the precious instrument now cradled in his lap as he looked up at Gerard, then back to the papers Bob had borrowed from the band people. Frank’s mouth moved slowly as ever as he tried to piece together words.

“They l-l-look…tr-tr-trapped,” he stuttered. Gerard felt his heart break again, just like the words Frank always tried so hard to say. The younger of the two placed one finger on the drops of ink formed into notes on the page. Shock appeared in his widened eyes. “Like…b-b-bars…c-c-c-cages…”

“Those are notes,” Gerard told him. He named them off one by one, penciling in a few extra ones and writing in the letters. Frank pointed to three of them in a row.

“It s-s-spells…words.”

Gerard’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, I guess they do. Some of them, anyway.”

Frank danced his across the strings. The colors flowed in front of his vision yet again, hiding the image of Gerard’s face, painted with a faint smile. The rainbows curled towards the notes and layered them with color, and soon enough they were floating off into the air. They didn’t seem so sad anymore…

He realized he was smiling. They were free. He was free.

Just like the butterflies he cared for so much.