"GERARD ARTHUR WAY!" Mr. Way's voice bellowed as Gerard gently closed the door behind him. He gulped, ready to jump into a hurricane. He had his alibi, there was no way his father would know about the fire. Only Frank knew about the fire. And the kiss, no one would ever know about the kiss.
"Where the hell have you been young man!?" his father demanded, walking into the hallway and facing Gerard. Gerard pulled off his shoes and hung the keys up on the rack, trying to act natural.
"I was at Grandma Elena's," Gerard said, hoping it wasn't obvious he was lying.
"Oh really?" his father asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Gerard saw Mikey's head poke down from up stairs. Mikey looked scared and younger than he was. Mikey hated confrontation like this.
"Dad?" Mikey said with a small voice.
His mother, who came in to stand behind Mr. Way, responded. "Go to bed, sweetie." Mikey didn't move.
"Yeah, me and Frank paid her a visit. You can ask her if you want," Gerard picked up the house phone off the hall table and offered it to his father, showing he was serious. His father ignored it, scowling down at his son.
"And why weren't you answering your phone?" Mr. Way asked.
"I forgot it," Gerard lied, incredibly aware of the cell phone in his back pocket and the fact that it wasn't silenced. One call and he'd be dead. "It's upstairs, in my room."
"You could have called from the nursing home, or with Frank's phone," his mother said.
"I didn't think it was necessary," Gerard shrugged.
"You didn't think it was necessary!?" Mr. Way snapped.
"That's what I just said," Gerard rolled his eyes.
"So you took the car, without permission, and disappeared all night without telling anyone where you were," Mr. Way started. "Just to waltz into the house at eleven o' clock and have me believe you were at your grandmother's this whole time!?"
"Okay, not the whole time," Gerard sighed, formulating a more intracite lie. "Frank called me first and asked me to come get him from his fathers. After that we decided to go to Grandma Elena's. I don't see what the big deal is!"
"The big deal, young man-" Mr. Way scolded. Gerard rolled his eyes. "-Is that nobody knew where you were or what you were doing."
"It's not like I'm a little kid, Dad!" Gerard demanded angrily.
"Not to mention, you're not even supposed to be driving at night yet since that accident last month," Mr. Way added.
"The accident wasn't my fault," Gerard said.
"Sure it wasn't. NOTHING is ever your fault, Gerard," Mr. Way snapped.
"What's that supposed to mean!?" Gerard demanded.
"Tell me the truth, right now. No more games, where the hell have you been?" Mr. Way asked.
"I told you the truth, I was at Grandma Elena's. You should believe your SON," Gerard spat.
"Then give me a reason to, Gerard."
"I'm telling the truth!" Gerard lied.
"We'll see," Mr. Way said. He walked out of the room and into the kitchen, leaving Gerard there with his ghosts and his mother. Neither of them talked or looked at each other. He looked up at Mikey, who looked petrified. He felt bad for scaring his little brother and shot him a comforting grin.
Gerard heard his father cuss from the other room, and that was soon followed by angry foot steps. His father appeared in front of him.
"I can't get through the nursing home this late," Mr. Way explained. "We'll talk more in the morning. For now, you're grounded."
"What!? You can't ground me, I'm not an eight year old!" Gerard demanded angrily.
"If you want to be punished like an eight year old, then it can be arranged," Mr. Way snapped back. Gerard blushed slightly, only becoming angrier. How dare he?
Taking that as a 'no,' Mr. Way continued. "You're grounded for two weeks. Hand over your license."
Gerard pulled his license out of his wallet and threw it at his old man, then ran up the stairs. He charged past Mikey and into his room, slamming the door as hard as he could and locking it.
He paced through his room, lit only by the desk lamp on his desk, muttering things about his father that would have gotten him grounded til he was thirty. He took his phone out of his pocket and threw it at his bed as hard as he could. He watched it bounce, then hit the floor with a "thunk." Gerard glared down at it, livid with anger. It suddenly buzzed and broke Gerard out of his spell. He walked over, picking it up off the floor and falling back to lay on his bed.
There was a new message from Frank. Gerard opened it, curious.
From: Frank
11:02 p.m. 8/29/12
(Re:) Thnx 4 a magical nite, GMan. U rly savd me tonite :)
Gerard re-read the message five times before closing his phone and then closing his eyes. He rested the phone on his chest and sighed.
He'd kissed Frank. He and Frank had kissed. They'd made a fire. They'd kissed by the fire.
This night really was magical, Gerard thought with a smile.
His phone buzzed again, and this time it was Mikey.
From: Mikey
11:06 p.m. 8/29/12
R u ok?
"Yea, im ok," Gerard texted back. He added a smiley face for extra meaning, even though it was stupid and pointless he knew Mikey would like it. Mikey was like that.
Gerard fell asleep on top of the covers, fully clothed and filthy, and smiling.
!
Holy fuck, I kissed Gerard, Frank thought as he woke up. He was stiff and sore all over. He wondered why his fingers were throbbing before he realized they were burnt and covered in splinters.
He made himself sit up, exhausted as he was. It was Sunday, but Frank didn't go to church anymore so he had no reason to get up.
His legs ached as he walked and it felt like his feet were bleeding. Frank couldn't tell though since he'd fallen asleep with one shoe on. Where was his other shoe?
He went into the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He was filthy, absolutely filthy. His hair felt thick and gross. He couldn't stand it, he HAD to shower.
He started the shower and stripped out of his clothes, leaving a pile on the bathroom floor. Waiting for the water to warm up, he examined himself in the mirror. He flexed his arms, just for fun, and imagined he had more muscle than he did. Finally he jumped in the shower and scrubbed himself shiny. He hated feeling dirty. Hated it!
When he got out he wrapped one towel around his waste and another around his head. He walked back into his room and searched in a drawer for some boxer shorts. Suddenly his phone went off.
Frank walked over and picked it up off his bed. The battery flashed empty, but it had enough juice to ring. The name on the caller id read: Jamia. Frank answered it, smiling.
"Hey, Jamia," Frank said.
"Hey, what's up?" Jamia chimed.
Oh, just standing in the middle of my room naked,Frank thought. "Nothing much, how bout you?" Frank asked.
"Could I come over?" Jamia asked. Frank's towel fell down from his waste and he scrambled to pull it back up, as if Jamia were actually in the room with him.
"Err, a, sure. Okay! That'd be great," he said, smiling and struggling with his towel.
"Awesome!" she cheered. "I'll be there in about twenty minutes, okay?"
Twenty minutes. Shit. Frank had a lot to do in twenty minutes.
"Yeah, that's great. See you then," he said.
"See ya," she hung up the phone. Frank stood there for a second staring at the wall, his phone in one hand and his towel being held up in the other. Finally he dropped both and hurried to get dressed. He tripped himself trying to pull on his jeans and fell on his butt. He jumped back up and tugged on a clean- or at least he hoped it was clean- t-shirt. He ran to the bathroom and combed through his hair. It was getting pretty long, he'd have to cut it soon.
"Frank," his mother said from the bathroom door way. Frank jumped out of his skin.
"Mom!" Frank complained. "Would you knock, please?"
His mother knocked sarcastically on the already open door. "You sure are making a lot of noise," she said.
"Jamia's coming over," Frank said, buzzing out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee.
"I didn't know you drank coffee now," his mother said.
"Gerard got me into it," Frank said, taking a sip and burning his mouth. He ran back to his room and his mother followed him.
"How'd it go with your father?" she asked him. Frank rolled his eyes. What was this? Interview Frank day?
"It went fine," he said, shaking his wet hair as he kicked a box of comic books under his bed. He picked some laundry off of the floor and took it to the laundry room.
"You're sure?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, of course," Frank lied. He wished his mother would just leave him alone.
"Frank, your father called me last night," his mother stated. Frank choked on his coffee and struggled to swallow it.
"He did?" he asked, coughing.
"He said you two got in a fight last night," she told him. Frank busied himself, taking stacks of books from the floor to his desk, straightening his bed.
"Yeah, kinda," Frank said. He sat down on the edge of his bed and flipped through a stack of cd's. "He'd getting married, and moving to Trenton."
Franks mother hurried across the room and sat down on the bed next to Frank, putting a loving arm around his shoulders.
"He wants me to go with them," Frank told his mother. "I told him I wouldn't do it."
"Baby, I know things have been hard on you. I'm sorry about all of this," his mom told him, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"It's not your fault, Mom," Frank said, setting his hand on her knee. He was going to say something else. He knew this news would be as hard on his mother as it was on him. She had really loved his father.
A knock on the door interrupted him though.
"Shit, that's Jamia," Frank said, jumping up from his bed.
"Well go let her in, then," his mother told him, smiling as she stood up from his bed. "Fix your hair first," she ran her fingers through her son's hair and straightened it up a bit. "There you go."
"Thanks Mom," Frank said, then rushed out of his room and into the living room, to the front door.