Frankie Fever

Whoa, no no no! This wasn’t right!

“The wrath of God,” Eddie read out in his high-and-mighty-bible-voice “Is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness-”

That guy who’d spoken to me last week was listening carefully. He was sitting comfortably in his chair, one arm laid across his stomach and the other brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. I couldn’t quite stop myself from glancing over at him in a more-than-casual-innocent way.

Every couple of minutes my eyes were wandering back over there and running up and down his form. I couldn’t stop it. I told myself no over and over but my body didn’t want to listen to my mind.

Plato believed that the mind sought higher intellectual knowledge and wisdom but was hindered by the body. He called the body a nuisance, that was hindering the mind in its search for wisdom with its want for food, sleep and sex. I can see what he means.

“Well, it’s there in black and white, guys,” Eddie said triumphantly “If you give in to vile affections, if, women, you change the natural use into that which is against nature and, men, leave the natural use of women to burn in lust for one another. . . well then.”

The guy looked over at me during this speech, smiling sweetly. I blinked several times.

No, Gerard Arthur Way. This is not why you’re here!

Eddie was going on and on about sin and burning in lust and God have mercy.

The guy lifted his arms and stretched back in his seat. His shirt rode up, revealing his slender waist. I swallowed hard. My palms were growing sticky. My heartbeat picked up.

Thump-a-thump thump-a-thump thump-a-thumpthumpathumpthumpathump. . .

No no no! I had a Frank thing not a guy thing!

Butterflies swarmed through my stomach. He glanced casually at me again - I swear he was making sure I was watching him.

Right! Out of there now! Time to resort to a few steps of my own. . .

“I’m sorry, I-I have to go!” I said quickly, standing up “My parents are out and I promised I’d get the dinner started.”

And then I ran.

Those steps were drowning my suspicions of gaydom in a vat of alcohol.

Sitting in my living room, slowly chugging down my Dads secret wine stash. My copy of the bible lay open in my lap on Leviticus.

“Whoever wrote you is an idiot,” I growled, pointing a finger at the passage “They don’t know nothing!”

The bible didn’t say anything.

“It’s not that easy! It’s not as simple as all that!” I insisted, taking a sharp gulp of some red wine “I can’t control how I feel and I am not being celibate for my whole life!”

It still didn’t reply.

I was so smart I’d silenced the smarty-pants, high-riding, judgemental bible.

“I mean, why should I be celibate? Just because I like men, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be allowed to do them! Everyone likes to get laid! I’m no exception. I mean, hello, I’m a teenager. Teenagers are completely sex-mad! And y’know what? God must have designed us to be that way! We’re designed to like sex and we’re designed to want it.”

I actually can’t repeat anymore it’s that embarrassing! If we say my parents weren’t pleased to come home and find me stark-raving drunk in the living room. Funnily enough, I didn’t get in trouble for it. My Dad burst into tears and blamed himself. Then he took me up to bed and sobbed to himself while waiting for me to fall asleep.

* * *

God was making a total mockery out of me.

I was not only now seeking help through alcohol but I was still completely unable to get Frank off of my mind.

What the hell was I supposed to do now? Frank was branded on my mind; I was undoubtedly gay and stuck in a house of emotional freaks. I was going to end up making myself ill at this rate. Is it any wonder I sought comfort in alcohol? Seriously. What would you do?

“Hey, Gerard!” The voice called behind me.

I turned and grinned as Sarah rushed to catch up with me. Stalkers can be good company when you’re a tortured, sealed-up freak like me. She smiled brightly at my warm greeting. I’d just made her day.

A gaggle of girls watched us wander past. One of them, a bleach blonde with pencilled eyebrows and a permanent sneer, caught Sarah’s arm and murmured in her ear. Sarah swore viciously and pulled free, walking steadily by my side.

“Hey, you ginger lesbo-”

“YEAH!” Sarah called back viciously “Yeah, I am.”

They were stunned into silence. I was too. My mouth was open in shock. Was this shy, quiet Sarah who followed me around like a puppy does its owner? Most certainly not! This Sarah was confident, aggressive and beating her bullies without any problems. Did I know this girl?

“So,” She began “Which one of you wants to do me?”

Their mouths dropped open in shock. No one said anything. Sarah raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“I’m waiting,” She demanded.

The girls still didn’t say anything. Their expressions were oh-my-god-you-did-not-just-say-that; uh, yes, she did just say that!

“Heterosexuals,” Sarah said in the tone a homophobe would say ‘homosexual‘, walking away triumphantly.

I followed her, glad I was on her side. We turned back as we reached the end of the street. They were still speechless with their mouths dropped open. I grinned.

“Better close your mouths or you’ll catch flies!” I jeered.

Sarah giggled and clung to my arm.

“Good one, Gerard,” She complimented.

Yes, I know. I know, I know. It really wasn’t that good.

We accompanied each other home, making easy talk. She was bright and bubbly as we walked. We stopped at the corner shop and I bought us both a bar of chocolate and a Coke Zero. Lovely. Nibbling and sipping and chatting on the way home.

I won’t lie. I liked talking to her. She made me forget everything. I felt good about myself.

Sarah looked gorgeous today. Her hair was swept back into a casual low ponytail and she’d taken special care over her make-up. Her vibrant hair shone in the sun. And her teeth shimmered as she smiled at me.

“Well, this is me,” She said as we stopped in front of her house “I guess I’ll see you another time. . .”

There was a pause.

“Unless. . .” She began thoughtfully, looking at her front door and back to me.

I smiled and shrugged casually. Off and up the path we went.

* * *

I met Sarah’s two moms. Yes, two. They were both really nice and welcoming of me. I was made to sit down with a coffee and to tell them all about myself. I was well-received I think. It made me feel really good about myself.

Soon, Sarah’s parents declared they were going shopping for groceries and essentials. And then one was off to see a friend and the other was doing the night-shift. So Sarah and I moved to her room.

I was sat on her bed while she raided downstairs for some booze. She backed her way in with a bottle of champagne and two fancy glasses. I smiled and nodded when asked if I liked champagne. Of course I did.

A stereo caught my eye as Sarah struggled with the cork on the bottle. I wandered over to it and ran my fingers over her CD collection. An extensive collection it was. Pop, rock, indie - even some jazz. And then a compilation CD caught my eye. I inspected it with a smile.

“Liking the range?” Sarah questioned, handing me a glass of champagne.

“I was actually,” I grinned, taking a sip “I didn’t have you down as the jazz type though.”

“It’s good for dancing to,” She explained.

I quirked an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay, I like jazz,” She confessed.

“Much better,” I grinned “No need to be embarrassed about who you are.”

She smiled and sipped at her champagne. I copied her, taking a larger, more confident gulp. Sarah smiled cheekily at me as I re-filled my glass. She sipped demurely and smacked her lips, watching me gulp.

“So, are you much of a dancer, Mr. Way?”

I scoffed.

She didn’t blink.

“Oh, are you serious?” I questioned.

She grinned.

“I guess I have my moments,” I shrugged.

“Could I see?” She requested.

“No,” I replied firmly “No way.”

“Oh pleeeease,” She whined “Pretty pleeeeease! I’ll love you forever!”

“I’m sure you will.”

She then attempted the puppy-dog look, blinking her eyes slowly and her bottom lip quivering. I groaned and tried to look away. I wouldn’t give in.

Neither would she. There was a silent five minutes in which we both attempted to outstare the other. It was a long five minutes. But Sarah won.

“Jesus,” I grinned to myself “Get enough of that booze in me and I’ll consider it.”

She grinned cheekily.

“Well, come on,” I insisted, holding my glass out “Fill me up!”

She did so. I downed. She filled. I downed.

* * *

That compilation CD I mentioned? I picked it up and fed it to the CD player, selecting a song carefully.

Sarah burst out laughing at my choice as I grinned, clapped my hands and jutted my hips.

If you see a faded sign at the side of the road that says,
15 miles to the... Love Shack! Love Shack yeah. . .

“Oh my God, Gerard,” Sarah laughed “Imagine if everyone in class was seeing this right now! Your life would be over!”

“Yes, yes it would be!” I grinned, taking a few steps back, wiggling my hips.

She giggled again as I strutted my stuff proudly in the middle of her bedroom, clapping my hands and stamping my feet. I felt good. It’s good to let your hair down and have some fun every once in a while! It’s healthy. Sarah helped me realise that.

I paused mid-dance, one hand on my hip as I observed Sarah, still giggling away at me. She managed to contain herself enough to look back at me, struggling not to giggle. I raised an eyebrow and held a hand out. Sarah realised what I wanted and shook her head firmly. I grinned and stepped forward, taking both her hands and pulling her up.

She stood awkwardly as I jiggled about a bit, giggling like a hyena. Sarah shook her head once more, her vivid hair shining. I nodded insistently, attempting to get her to join me in a little cha-cha thing. One step across to the left, two little stamps, one step across to the right and repeat.

Sign says stay away fools, 'cause love rules at the Love,
Shack! Well it's set way back in the middle of a field, Just a funky,
old shack and I gotta get back,
Glitter on the mattress,
Glitter on the highway,
Glitter on the front porch,
Glitter on the hallway,

A big balloon of pride swelled up in my chest as I managed to get Sarah singing along with me. She was grinning wildly, jumping and dancing without a care in the world. I grinned and put my hands on her hips as she wound hers around my neck. It was good to unwind. I felt good. Sarah grinned up at me, her green eyes sparkling with excitement. Like emeralds.

We danced together almost perfectly. Sarah would wriggle her hips and I’d move along with her. I’d clap my hands and stamp my feet and she’d copy.

The Love Shack is a little old place where we can get together,
Love Shack baby! Love Shack baby!
Love Shack, that's where it's at!
Love Shack, that's where it's at!

Sarah looked up at me, grinning. I grinned back. There seemed to be this silence between us. Everything slowed down.

We were having - I think - one of those oh-so-famous ‘moments’. Like they have in movies. The cliché ones. The ones that make everyone go ‘awwwww’.

Both Sarah and I could feel it. I think even then we knew what was going to happen.

Suddenly out of nowhere, I was kissing her. Softly at first but then faster. More frantic. She clutched at my hair while I pulled her into me, holding her hips tightly.

Almost like I was trying to prove something?

Sarah began kissing my neck. I was pushed against the wall.

Are you trying to prove something? The voice in the back of my head questioned. I started, shaking my head - trying to get rid of the voice. Sarah looked up at me.

“Is everything alright?” She questioned.

I nodded insistently, smiling awkwardly.

“It’s fine.”

She grinned and moved closer again. I accepted her, kissing back just as hurried as her. She wound her arms around my neck, practically crushing me. I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her hips. To be totally one hundred percent honest, it was a strange feeling. I wasn’t sure if I liked this or not. Perhaps it was because I’d spent the last six months craving Frank Iero’s touch and Frank Iero’s taste. So maybe it was because Sarah Gardenier’s touch was so different to Frank’s. And because her taste was sweet like watermelon lip gloss as opposed to Frank’s organic, nicotine-tinted, faint spearmint gum whispered flavour. And she felt so soft and curvaceous instead of the strong, muscular frame I’d longed for.

I soon realised I was sliding down the wall. Sarah was climbing onto my lap, winding her arms back around my neck. Still uncertain, I moved to kiss her and taste her unfamiliar taste.

It was nice, I guess. Sarah was nice in her own way. And I could hardly be accused of not branching out now. I’d tried a bit of both. She was nice. But it was nicer when I told myself a little story in my head involving a certain someone who most definitely wasn’t Sarah - fantasising when you’re with someone else. Most definitely something I was never told to do during discussions in the locker rooms.

I shyly slid a hand up to hold the back of Sarah’s head. She seemed to like this and moved to kiss my neck again. I groaned softly as she found a weak spot. And my hands carefully undid her hair tie, letting her long intense hair tumble down.

Her lips formed a sweet smile as she moved back to kiss me. I gripped at her hair, a knot tying in the pit of my stomach. There was a slow shifting movement on her part. It was shy and hesitant. But when I didn’t complain, she grew more confident. Yep, she’d started to grind her hips into mine. I could barely feel any reaction.

By now, that small knot in my stomach had grown to the size of a basketball. And there must’ve been some little guy in there bouncing it around. Something was making me nervous. Very nervous.

Almost desperately, I gripped at her chest - well, her um. . . you know. This went down well. She moaned softly, moving herself faster against me. At least something was happening now. I moved my free hand to her thigh. I could feel myself getting sticky with nerves. My hand was now moving slowly up and under her skirt. There was a soft ‘Mmm’. Well, at least I was doing okay so far.

Sarah began to lean backwards, pulling me with her until I was lying on top of her on her bedroom floor. Very romantic. Well, she seemed to think it was.

Before you could say ‘Breasts ahoy!’ I was carefully unbuttoning her school shirt. She was kissing me frantically, winding one of her legs around my waist. Well, she liked this. She’d gone back to grinding up against me. I tried to match her movements, desperate to provoke a reaction out of myself.

Soon she was touching me in places I’d never been touched. It got the reaction I was looking for. And a groan on my part. A loud one. She seemed to smirk in pride. Well, it was quite an achievement. It also led me to be more enthusiastic about what I was doing.

I’m not sure how long we were there for but the more enthusiastic I got, the more that basketball bounced around in the pit of my stomach. I was anxious. I know exactly where we were headed. I knew from the moment we first touched.

And I could’ve stopped it the second I foolishly kissed her back. But I didn’t. I thought I wanted it. It’ll get so much better. It’ll be great. I kept telling myself that the whole way through. That is, until her hands were unzipping my pants and sliding inside my boxers-

“Stop!” I suddenly cried.