In art the next day, Jamia asks,
“So where were you yesterday? I texted you, but you didn’t reply.”
“You did?” I pull my phone out of my pocket and check my messages. Jamia texted me a picture of a cat. Huh, she did.
She nods. “It freaked me out a little bit; I’m a worrier.”
“Who’s the cat?” I ask, dodging her question.
Jamia smiles, answering, “That’s my cat, Gucci.”
“You named your cat after a purse?” I snort.
“No!” Jamia insists. She then adds, “My sister did.”
There’s a small silence before Jamia offers,
“You know, you could come see him anytime you want.”
“I’m allergic to cats,” I dismiss.
Jamia points a paintbrush saturated with bright green paint at me. She boops me on the nose with it, leaving a splotch of paint behind. “You better not be making that shit up.”
At lunch, Jamia and I are discussing why in the fuck I would ever pretend to be allergic to cats, when I see Frank. He timidly waves, and then heads over, setting his tray down next to me.
“What do you want, shrimp?” Jamia snarls. “Why don’t you go somewhere else?”
“No, Jamia, it’s okay,” I assure. I lace my fingers with Frank, who turns pink in the cheeks. “I’ll explain later.”
We spend most of lunch in a stony silence, my hand still clutching Frank’s. I can tell Jamia’s pissed, confused, and mostly, pissed.
Finally, Jamia decides to try being civil to Frank, probably because he’s currently not doing anything wrong. “So, what bands do you like?”
Frank’s head snaps up as he lists, almost as if it were a script, “Green Day, Fall Out Boy, Smashing Pumpkins, Marilyn Manson, Nirvana, and the Beatles.
“Damn, you’ve actually got pretty good taste,” Jamia responds. “What do you think of feminists?”
“I think it’s good for them, but I can’t really have that much of an opinion, since I don’t really know what women go through,” Frank replies.
Jamia grabs me by the sleeve and pulls me close, whispering in my ear, “He’s perfect!”
“e beganHe He and some othersedssessSomeone’s coming around,” I smirk in a hushed voice.
“He’s still an aggressive wanker,” Jamia shoots back. She then, like the amazing two faced person she is, smiles sweetly at Frank.
Frank looks uneasy. The bell rings, and he fumbles with his hands anxiously as he stands, saying, “See you guys.” He looks around before giving me a peck on the lips that lasts about a millisecond before heading off towards his next class.
I’m watching his flat as make its way out of there when Jamia rudely interrupts me, snapping her fingers in front of my face.
“Okay, so yesterday, he’s picking on you and making you miserable. Correct?”
I nod. “Correct.”
“And now you’re all buddy buddy with him?” Jamia scoffs.
“Well, you don’t know what happened between us,” I point out.
“What happened?”
“After school, he… Frank invited me to his house,” I inform. “And I went over and… he told me everything. He told me about his dad, about who could have started the rumor, about him being gay, all of it.”
“I was right!” Jamia chirps. “I knew he was gay. Just by the way he carries himself, you know?” She smiles, and then her face slowly becomes bursting with anger. She hits my shoulder rapidly as she exclaims, “SOMETHING THIS IMPORTANT IN YOUR LIFE HAPPENED AND I’M JUST FINDING OUT NOW?!”
“I’m sorry!” I apologize, holding her arms at her sides so she fucking stops hitting me.
Jamia’s quiet for a moment, panting from so much exertion. She then perks up, asking chirpily, “So you two are dating now?”
I grin back at her, nodding. “Yeah, we are.”
She squeezes me joyfully, squealing in that high registers that only girls and my brother Mikey can manage to reach.
“GerardI’msohappyforyouohmygoshandFrankietooyouguysaresuchacutecouple!” is all ran into one long word as Jamia shrieks with excitement and glee in my ear.
Frank meets me at my locker after school, head butting my shoulder gently to get my attention. “Do you want to come over to my house?”
“How about we go to mine, for a change?” I offer. “You could see Mikes. He misses you, you know.”
Mikey used to play with Frank and I when we were kids. Mikey and Frank were almost as close as Frank and I. As soon as Frank started bullying me, Mikey cut off all ties with his best friend (besides me). Being the good little brother he is, he pretended it didn’t bother him, but I could tell he wanted to see his best friend, who had done him no direct harm.
Frank smiles at the mention of Mikey. “Oh, I haven’t seen that kid since forever. I remember when he was a baby….” Frank goes on, “I think the last time I saw him he was… ten? How old is he now?”
“Twelve, almost thirteen,” I respond.
“Ouch,” Frank chuckles.
“It’s been two years, Frank,” I remind. “He grows up, you know.”
On the walk towards my house, and Frank asks me,
“Are we- erm, are we telling Mikey…”
“About us?” I finish for him. Frank nods. “I thought we would. He’s a good kid; mature. His best friend, Bob is gay.”
Frank coughs into his sleeve and then turns to me, grinning.
I laugh at his dumbly happy expression. “Why are you so smiley?”
“Little Frank is at attention,” Frank replies.
I look down at Frank’s crotch, to see his boner pressing proudly against his denim. I blush as I look away, muttering, “Frank, what are you getting at?”
“Well, you know… nothing,” Frank insists. He kicks a rock, and then mumbles under his breath, “You know, I’ll give you a hand job…”
“What?!” I exclaim.
Frank laughs, repeating, “A hand job. I’ll give you one, if you want.”
I stare at him, trying to hide my anxiety. It must not work, because Frank giggles again, observing,
“I’m guessing you’ve never had one.”
I shake my head. “I haven’t even kissed someone besides you. Well…. Jamia, but…”
“Jamia?” Frank questions, raising his eyebrows.
“Long story short, she didn’t know I was gay,” I explain. “Point is… I’m pretty um…. Unexperienced when it comes to stuff like that.”
Frank smiles at me, replying, “Boy, is that going to change.”

Notes

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