Make a wish when a Blackbird flies

Sitting in this flea-ridden motel room really makes you think, about all the fancy places we could have chosen. I mean really, it looks and smells as if they never cleaned this place; there were dark stains on the carpeted floor and the bed sheets were suspiciously crusty.

I guess I had to make the best of what I had; at least I wasn't alone, I was sharing the room with my partner, we were working on the hangman case together, ever since we were teamed up to get him out of that place.

I still remember the day I found out about what he could do, anyone would have just left him, probably thinking he was a crazy freak; but at that point it was much too late for me, I believed him.

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I walked down the hall toward the bathroom; I was taking my time not wanting to return too quickly to biology. I had been attending Belleville high for a couple of months and things were going...mediocre. Turns out I was being pegged as the loser faggot but I didn't mind. I was used to it.

Truth is I didn't care what they called me as long as I got to stay with Frankie. We were still friends, but I felt much more than that; I wanted to hold his hand in public, hold him, kiss him, call him mine. I was falling in love with him.

I walked into the bathroom and almost walked right past a body on the floor, slumped against the wall, smoking. It was Frank and it looked like his face had gone through a blender. His lip was cut open and he had blood coating half of his face, from his nose and mouth, and had a few scratches and scrapes here and there.

"Oh god, Frank, are you alright?" I asked, helping him off the ground. "What happened?"
"I met Dick Harvey on my way to class." He mumbled as I helped him to the sinks. "I called him a baboon, called his girlfriend a baboon's ass. In short, they do it baboon style." He said rather proudly.

I chuckled as I wet some paper towels.
"Well I must say you have a real talent for getting into trouble. Stay still." I told him as I held his face by his jaw and started to clean the blood away, being careful of his cuts and lip. He just smiled and stared at me while I worked.

"How long have you been in here?" I asked.
"I don't know. When did the Blitz happen?" He joked. I kept getting distracted by his eyes, the softness of his skin and the warmth of his body; but i finally finished, at least he didn't look like road kill anymore.
"Now I can see your pretty face again." I said.

It would probably have been the perfect moment to tell how I felt and maybe kiss him; perhaps he already knew, because he spoke before I could. His face fell and he looked at the ground.
"I have to tell you something." He said.
"I have to tell you something too."
"Me first. It might change your mind."
"...ok...sure." I said slowly.

"But not here. Do you know a place?" I knew just where we could go. At that moment the bell rang so I hurried to get my stuff from the biology class, then together we walked - he limped - out of school and towards my car.

About ten minutes later we ere both sitting in my old treehouse behind my actual house. Mikey's and my dad built it when we were kids, on weekends we would try to spend the night in it, but we'd always end up getting scared and going back inside. From the top you could see about three blocks away.

So there sat me and Frank, it was still early in the year so it would get dark soon; we sat in silence, the only noise was from various people or cars on the road, a flock of blackbirds raced off in the distance.
"Make a wish." I broke the silence.
"What?" He asked.

"Make a wish when a blackbird flies, my mum used to say that. They'll catch your wishes and take them away, to a place where they'll com true." I never told him about my mother, nobody knew, except Mickey and my father of course; it wasn't that I didn't trust him, I just didn't think it was right to talk about her until I actually did something to find the one who took her from us.

"I met your mother." He said timidly, not meeting my eyes. I didn't know what he meant. "I spoke to her." He continued.
"When?" I didn't think they could know each other, he would have to have been very small after all.
"Recently."
"Don't bullshit me Frank." I told him getting defensive.

"Gee-" He started.
"You know if this is a joke, it's not funny!" I snapped.
"Gerard, I see dead people; I talk to them." He said, making me look at him with wide eyes. How would you react?
"That's crap." I said.

"Why do you think everyone calls me crazy? You've seen me, it looks like I talk to myself, right?" I had seen him, it did look like he talked to himself; i never paid much attention to it, I thought it was just a habit, like humming.
"Wow, you must have a very vivid imagination to come up with this stuff." I said bitterly. I knew I was being harsh and mean, at that moment I had no idea that he needed me to understand more than anyone else.

"It's not imagination, it's real!" He shouted.
"So prove it!" I shouted back louder. He was silent for a moment, then he just looked sad.
"She heard you sing." He said softly. I just stared at him questioningly.

"Peter Pan? That night, you had a terrible fight and you thought she never came to your play. You thought she didn't care."
"Don't Frank, that's not fair." I couldn't look at him. The night he was speaking of happened shortly before she died.

The fight we had, it was nothing, she wanted me to wear those stupid green tights and I just wanted to go in the costume the school provided; I was just a child but I blew up, started yelling at her for no reason. My dad ended up driving me to the school and I really did think she never came; the next few days we gave each other the silent treatment and when she died, I blamed myself, all I've been feeling for years was a never ending guilt.

"She was right at the back; she said you were like an angel." He continued. Tears welled up at his words. "And she said you're stupid for feeling guilty." The tears spilled over, that was my mum alright. I felt him lightly put his hand on my shoulder, almost as if he were scared.

"And she, um, she said that whenever you go see her grave you always ask the same question. She said the answer is every day." I put my head in my hands and started sobbing. Frank came closer and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. "What was the question, Gee?" He asked softly, just a whisper in my ear.

"If-if she was ever p-proud of me." I chocked out. We stayed like that for a while, him holding me with his head on my shoulder and me letting him hold me, until I managed to stop crying and just stared out at nothing. The sun had begun to set casting everything in an orange and red light.

"Do you know why the sun sets red?" He asked in the silence.
"Why?" I asked him.
"Well, light is made up of lots of colours, and out of all those colours, red is the one that travels the fastest."
"Like I asked. Know it all." I laughed pushing him a little.

We both laughed for a few seconds, then his face turned serious.
"It doesn't bother you, what I can do?" He asked.
"Nah, I mean, it's a little shocking, but I always knew you were weird." I smiled back at him, he was still unsure though.
"But, why?"

"Because...I'm in love with you." I said like it was the most obvious thing ever. He gaped at me.
"You...what?" He asked. To answer his question I pulled him closer to me and kissed him. He kissed back immediately and wrapped his arms around my neck.

There really is no way of properly describing your first kiss with someone you like or love, except it's like magic. Time seems to stop, all is silent except our beating hearts, nothing else matters, and it's just you and him as a million fireworks seem to burst behind your closed eyelids, and butterflies raged in my stomach.

I slowly pulled away and looked at his still bruised face.
"I love you." I told him.
"I love you too."

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From that day everything seemed better and worse. Better, because we were finally together, all we needed and wanted was each other, and now that we knew all the secrets I felt that there were no boundaries between us.
Worse, because nobody else wanted us to be together, and though we didn't care about what they thought, they just took it as an extra excuse to get rid of him.

I was interrupted from my thoughts by a knock on the door. Who could that be at this hour?

Notes

All the wrong questions.
Look familiar? It should, I don't write like crap for no reason.
I wish my first kiss had been like that, he mostly tried to eat my face.

So tell me what you think, as always leave me a comment. :)