I'll Never Be What You Need.

Frank and Mikey sat at the coffee shop across from each other. Frank had driven, much to Mikey's reluctance. How did he know if Frank was a serial killer or not ? Frank had taken him to the small shop, trying to get Mikey to open up a little.

Mikey sipped his coffee from the porcelian mug (he'd gotten just cream and sugar in his; nothing special). God, it was so good. It had to be the best coffee he'd ever had. Frank was right.

Frank sipped his iced coffee from a straw (he was a whipped cream kind of guy) while watching Mikey. Mikey was really an interesting individual. He had strong features: high cheeks bones, strong nose. He liked Mikey's eyes. They were a pretty hazel.

Frank bit his lip. He was being so stupid, thinking Mikey was pretty. Even though he was.

Mikey looked up at Frank. "Why are you staring at me ?" he asked quietly.

Frank cocked his head to the side. "Because. I'm just trying to figure you out," Frank answered.

Mikey frowned. "There's nothing to figure out," he said.

"I think there is," Frank replied. "Why are you so quiet ?"

Mikey shrugged. "I've just always been quiet."

"I bet your friends get frustrated with you when you don't talk," Frank observed.

"I don't have any friends," Mikey admitted.

"What ?! Well, you do now," Frank told him.

Mikey looked at Frank. Was he serious ? Did he really want to be his friend ? "Um... okay, Frank."

"No, I'm serious. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not. I'm going to bug you at work everyday, just because that's what friends do." Frank smiled.

Mikey took another sip of his coffee. Was Frank insane ? Didn't he see Mikey was a freak ? "You really don't want to hang out with me."

Frank gave him a strange look. "Why not ?"

"Because. I mean, look at me. I'm not looking for someone to fix me," Mikey told him. He didn't want people pitying or trying to change him.

Frank smiled. "I'm not going to fix you, Mikey. Okay, maybe, but that's not my intention. You're cool, and I'm cool, so cool people should hang out."

Mikey looked at him strangely. "Okay," he said finally.

"That took you a little while," Frank observed.

Mikey sighed. "I'm just shocked. Most people are scared of me," Mikey admitted.

"You serious ? Sheesh. People today..." Frank muttered to himself. "You're not scary."

"Um... thank you ?"

"Jesus, I need to be getting home," Frank told him.

"Me too," Mikey replied, not even knowing if his mom would care if he'd been gone so long.

"Come on. I'll drive you," Frank offered, standing up.

Mikey quickly downed the rest of his coffee and stood up as well, leaving the mug on the table. "I can't let you do that-"

"Mikey," Frank cut him off. "This is Jersey. I'm not going to let you walk home at night. Who knows what could happen to you ? You'd probably get mugged, or worse, and it would all be my fault. I'm not ready to carry that kind of guilt. Besides, I doubt you even know your way home from here."

Frank did have a point. He really didn't know where he was. "Okay," Mikey agreed, following Frank, a boy he had barely know for just two days, out to his car.

* * * *

Mikey walked into the apartment to see darkness. That was it. He turned on the kitchen/living room light, illuminating the small space. His stomach rumbled. He was starving.

He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled a box of chocolate chip waffles out of the freezer and took out two, putting them in the toaster.

He leaned against the counter and sighed. Why was Frank being so nice to him ? It was so weird. No one had really tried to truly befriend him since... well, ever.

Mikey looked at the coffee pot in the corner and saw there was still some coffee in it. He poured it into a mug and stuck his finger in it to test the temperature. It was cold. He heated it in the microwave for a few seconds and pulled it out, taking a large gulp. Even though he just had coffee, he wanted more. It kind of sucked in comparison to the coffee he had with Frank, but drank it anyway. Hey, it's coffee.

The toaster dinged, and the waffles should have come up, but they didn't. Mikey frowned. Stubborn waffles. He grabbed a fork, stabbed the waffles, and dragged them out.

He took a bite of the waffle, feeling the sugary-sweetness of the chocolate over his tongue. So good... Ya, he was eating waffles at nine o' clock at night. Got a problem with that ?

Just another night in the life of Micheal James Way.