The Hardest Part of This Is Leaving You

Frank’s POV

After 10 minutes, I’m still sitting there, not having moved after she left, thinking. Why did she run off like that? Was it something I did? Or something I said, or rather stuttered?
I should have talked to her, not being such a blubbering, nervous mess. I’m wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I’ve never acted like that around any girl before and I don’t even know her.

After about another 5 minutes, I finally come back to my senses. Because of being so nervous earlier, it feels like an entire desert has been forced through my throat, leaving me very thirsty. I walk over to the counter, seeing Sam isn’t doing anything. He notices me shortly after, coming over to me.

“Hey Frank. Same old?” he asks me.

“Of course,” I reply with a weak smile.

While Sam is preparing my order, he continues talking to me. “So, who was that girl you were talking to before?” he asks with a sly smile, knowing fully well it was ‘her’.

“That was the girl I’ve been waiting for to come. I guess you’re right, no one can resist the coffee.”

“So, did you talk to her? I saw you writing something down. Did you give her your phone number?”

“Well, I talked to her if you consider stuttering some one worded replies talking. And she asked me for my autograph, so that’s what I was writing down,” I reply, purposely leaving out the fact that I wrote my phone number underneath it, with a message kindly asking her to call me. Not everyone has to know everything about what I do with my life.

“Oh, that’s right, you’re in a band. So I take it she’s a fan then?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Which is a good thing, now I know she has a good taste in music,” I add with a chuckle. By now, Sam finished my order quickly pay him for it, before grabbing my stuff and going home.

Once I get home, I just have to tell one of my friends about meeting her again. I know I told Sam about it, but hey, I did leave out some huge, important details about our little talk. I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and scroll down my numbers until I reach Gerard’s. I press the call button and wait for him to pick up.

“Hey Frankie, what’s up?” he says once he does pick up.

“Hey Gee. Do you feel like coming over? I want to talk to you about something,” I ask him.

“Sure. I’ll be there in about ten.” Before I get the chance to reply, I can hear the dial tone, indicating Gerard hung up on me.

Trying to get my mind off of the girl, I walk over to the couch and turn on the television. After about ten minutes of watching I-don’t-even-know-what, I hear the front door open and then close again, indicating Gerard is here. Not too long after, I hear him holler my name. I yell at him that I’m in the living room, hearing him come this way only seconds later.

“Thank you so much for the warm welcome to your house,” Gerard laughs as he enters the living room.

“Yeah whatever, just being too lazy to get up from the couch.”

“Anyways, you wanted to talk. What about?” he asks as he sits down next to me on the couch.

“I saw that girl again,” I started.

“Yeah, I already thought it would be about her.”

“Whatever. Anyways, I saw her again and she asked me for my autograph, which I gave her. And I might have added something to it.”

“And what is it you might have added?”

“I might have added my phone number and a request to call me?” I question more than state, feeling uncertain about giving her my number all of a sudden.

“And you’re asking me because? You know what you did, not me you know,” he chuckled, before continuing. “But I’m glad you saw her again, cause watching you be so, I don’t know, different, worried me a bit. You weren’t being you anymore,” he says, getting serious all of a sudden.

“I know. I just hope giving her my phone number wasn’t a mistake,” I tell Gerard.

“Only time will tell Frankie, only time will tell.”