Forever is a Long Time . . .

It was much warmer inside Frank’s house and when we got there, we took off our jackets and went into his per usual messy room. It hadn’t gotten any cleaner since the last time I’d been in it; there were still DVDs, books and knickknacks scattered around all over the place. Even though it wasn’t the neatest, I liked Frank’s room; we’d shared some of our most precious secrets to each other in it. Like the swings, Frank’s room was another one of my favorite places on earth.

I sat myself down on Frank’s bed, the sheets in a disarray and bunched up toward the bottom. He pulled out his guitar that I’d given him and came over to sit next to me. I scooted over a little to make room for him, but the sinking of the bed forced us closer again.

We readjusted ourselves, much to my dismay seeing as now I wasn't snuggled close to Frank, but so that we weren’t on top of each other and so that Frank could comfortably play. “I picked it up from Ray’s house this morning before going over to yours,” he said as he strummed out a few chords to warm up.

“Sounds good,” I said as he let a G chord ring out.

“Try amazing! I love this guitar. It’s, like, my baby now.” I laughed at Frank a little, not to make fun, but because I was so happy that he’d really liked the guitar; in fact he loved it.

Seeing him act giddier than a kid with a bucket full of candy at an aquarium was totally worth spending nearly my entire teenage-life savings. I'd definitely made the right choice in buying him that guitar.

I sat looking at him as he continued to strum out a few more chords, seeming pleased with the sounds produced by the new instrument. He stared intently at the frets as I gazed upon his rapt face. It was like a scene from some cheesy movie; soft guitar music playing in the background while the girl sits and admires the boy she loves.

I was quick to wipe the loved-sick look off my face as Frank suddenly averted his eyes from the frets. He met his gaze to mine, bringing me out of my ever constant state of infatuation. I snapped back into best-friend mode and Frank said, “Hey, it’s been a while. Feel like writing a song?”

“I don’t know; I don’t even have any material.” I liked writing songs with Frank, I did, but I just wasn’t in the right mindset at the moment. The past few days I had really been thinking of Frank a lot and God only knows what could slip out during the song writing process.

Frank and I had written a lot of songs together before. I loved them all; there was no way I could pick out just one favorite. It was fun writing songs with Frank. He was so talented on guitar I almost felt bad that all the tracks had to have my terrible singing voice recorded onto them, though Frank always told me it was lovely. I didn’t know if that was what he really thought or just what he told me because I was his best friend.

“What about that poem?” Why did he have to remember about, and bring up, the poem? That was just about the last piece of writing I wanted to use in a song with Frank. It was about him for Christ’s sake!

“What poem?” I questioned Frank, playing dumb to avoid having to use the piece. “The one you wrote in physics that one time, the one that Mr. Shaw caught you writing. That was really good.”

“Nah, that wasn’t any good,” I protested, though I myself thought it wasn’t half-bad. “Definitely not song worthy.”

But Frank wouldn’t budge. “Please, Paige!” he begged. “This is gonna be the first song I’ll write with this guitar. I liked those lyrics; can we use them anyway?”

“I don’t kn-” I began to say just as Frank cut off my thought with a teasing whimper and puppy dog eyes. “Please, Paige. For me?” God knows I’d do anything for that boy, and so did he. I couldn’t deny Frank his happiness, and if this would truly make him happy, then I’d suck it up and use the stupid poem, but maybe leave out the part about how gorgeous his eyes were. His eyes, and the whole rest of him.

“Okay,” I sighed, already seeing Frank’s face light up with joy. “We can use the poem.”

“Awesome!” he exclaimed, the bliss in his voice perceptible. “Seriously, Paige, I think this is gonna be one of our best ones yet.” Yeah, too bad you’ll never know what it’s about.

***

We spent the rest of the daylight hours working in the lines of the poem to fit as lyrics in a song. Frank had come up with some really interesting riffs and, though initially I was opposed to using the poem, it sounded pretty cool.

It was coming along nicely and throughout the songwriting process, I found it pleasantly, and somewhat, surprisingly liberating to be able to sing these words to Frank. In my own way, I was telling him everything I’d ever wanted him to know while still being able to keep the big picture a secret. He didn’t know what, or who, the poem was about, and he never would, but still, I felt at least a little set free.

When we were satisfied with the chords and notes in relation to the words of the poem, now put to a tune and turned into lyrics, we recorded our creation on our master CD. It had all the songs we’d ever recorded: about ten or twelve songs written and saved over the past three years, ever since Frank had started playing guitar. It was a one of a kind musical ‘masterpiece,’ and for some odd reason, I entrusted it in the hands of Frank. He hadn’t lost it yet, so I guess that was saying something.

Frank looked to me to make sure I was ready. I nodded and he pressed the record button before quietly counting off. “One, Two. One, Two, Three, Four.”

“What would you do if I told you I loved you?” I sang as Frank strummed out his part on guitar. It was much softer and quieter than most of our other stuff, but I still liked it. Frank was right; it was one of our best songs yet.


The song ended with a few more chords from Frank’s guitar, letting the last one ring out to close off the song. When it was officially over, all my words sung and all of Frank’s chords strummed, he leaned forward.

I felt my eyes widen a little as I thought, Is this it? The moment I’ve waited practically my whole life for? Is Frank finally gonna . . .?

No. Frank didn’t kiss me, nothing even remotely close. He just reached out past me to press the ‘stop’ button on the recorder. He looked up to me, now able to speak without having it be on the recording, a mistake we’d made more than once before, songs finished with a string of swear words or frantic questioning of where's the damn 'stop' button?

My face was probably redder than it ever had been. Curse my pale, German skin. My cheeks never failed to show my emotion, no matter how badly I wished I could conceal it, and lately, they’ve been pretty expressive.

After my emotional freak-out had subsided and I’d done the best I could to regain my composure, it still wasn’t enough to hide my mental angst. “You okay?” Frank said, his expression shifting from contentment and joy to worry and preoccupation.

“Yeah,” I answered, forcing a smile on my face, trying my best to make it look genuine. “I’m fine. You get the whole thing?” Frank’s face softened a bit, his smile returning, though not fully.

“Yup. That one’s a keeper. What should we call it?” I was finally able to think clearly and pretend like I hadn’t just gone into full on panic mode in my irrational anticipation to receive a kiss from my life-long best friend. I guess it’s good that he hadn’t though; as much as I’d always longed for it, a kiss from Frank would only cause –

“Complications. Let’s call it Complications.” Named after the number one side-effect of falling in love with your best friend.

Frank grinned at this and nodded upon hearing my chosen name for the song. He considered it a moment before uncapping a permanent marker and penning the name on the front of the CD, permanently marking it along with the rest of the tracks. He looked up and capped the maker.

Pleased with the name, Frank simply said, “I like this song.”

Notes

HA! Psych!! So anyways, I don't normally post on any day besides Friday, but I'm actually not gonna be around tomorrow, so I figured that instead of making y'all wait for the update that I'd just post today instead. Enjoy!!