Forever is a Long Time . . .

I’m not completely sure how long I was out for. I hadn’t even made it half-way through the movie when I’d fallen asleep, fairly certain that I was leaning on Frank’s shoulder when I did. All I remembered was that my eyes got really heavy and I couldn’t help but pass out.

Normally, I could have just stayed asleep, but something woke me up. I felt someone shifting me out of my position and lifting me up. I was being moved. I forced myself to open my eyes despite how tired I still was and how much I wanted to just stay asleep.

“Frank?” I whispered as I saw that he was the one carrying me.

He was holding me up with my head against his chest and his arms supporting me on my back and behind my knees. We were still in Gerard’s room but everyone else had already gone upstairs, leaving just Frank and I. He had just started to carry me upstairs when I awoke.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He replied, “Taking you home.”

“Why are you carrying me?”

“Because you fell asleep.” I didn’t fight him on it; I was tired and didn’t feel like making my legs function anyway, so I just let him carry me the rest of the way, only getting to my feet when I had to get in the car.

We’d said goodnight to the rest of the guys on our way out and made our way back to our side of the neighborhood. Frank kept the music off in the car because he knew how tired I was, but still he tried to make small conversation, even while driving. I knew he was improving.

“Boy, you are tired,” he offered as I let out a stifled yawn. I nodded my head in response, not really in the right mindset to be making actual conversation. It was weird to have the roles switched; this time me being the one who didn’t want to talk in the car instead of Frank.

When we got to my house, I thanked Frank for driving me home and said goodnight to him. He waited until I got the front door open and I waved to him as he drove back to his house.

Once I was inside, I closed and locked the front door and made my way up to my room. I didn’t bother turning any lights on; not only did I not want to wake anyone, but I also had the route to my bedroom memorized down to the number of steps it took to get there.

I’d gotten to the top of the stairs and started to walk down the hall to my room when a light was turned on, slightly blinding me. At first, I thought it was my mom coming to ask me where I’d been but when I turned to see who it was, I saw Joshua instead.

He was just coming out of his room, dressed in his plaid pajama bottoms and a Belleville High football tee-shirt, probably on his way to the kitchen for some water or something. “Oh, hey Paige,” he greeted me as we passed each other in the hall.

Interactions between me and Josh had always been really awkward; even simply saying hello to each other in the hall wasn’t the most comfortable part of my day. I think this was because we didn’t have anything in common and didn’t have anything to talk about, so we just never did and over the years we just grew further and further apart. In truth, I would have liked to have a better relationship with my brother, but I just never saw that happening.

“Hey Josh,” I responded back to him, not sure how far our interaction for the night would go.

“You’re home late, uhm, how was your night?” he asked, trying his best to have a real conversation.

“Uh, it was good. Just went to Gerard’s house and watched a movie with the guys, so,” Josh nodded his head, clearly unsure of what to say to this. It was obvious that ending the ‘conversation’ here was best for both of us so I decided to take the initiative.

“Well, I’m pretty tired so, I’m just gonna go to bed now. Uh, night, Josh.”

“Yeah, uh, good night Paige, I’ll . . . see you tomorrow.” And with that, I turned back and headed off to my room and Josh continued on his way to wherever he’d been going before I came home.

I opened my bedroom door and turned on the small lamp by my bed. I took of my jacket and threw it onto the chair by my window. I was really tired from the movie; I don’t know why movies made me so drowsy.

I went to my dresser and pulled out my Batman pajamas that Frank had gotten me for Christmas one year. I took off my jeans and sweater, exchanging them for the shorts and tee shirt before tossing off the covers of my bed and climbing in.

I pulled up the blanket and got comfortable. Somehow, falling asleep during movies always made me more tired when I actually went to go to sleep later on at night. It was a little annoying how I’d always fall asleep halfway through a movie, never getting to see the ending, but I’m sure it was more annoying for Frank.

Tonight wouldn’t have been the first time I’d woken up to him carrying me back upstairs from Gerard’s room. I’d been in the exact same position a number of times before; Frank holding me in his arms, my head against his chest hearing his heart beating as he carried me, in my sleeping state, upstairs to go home. Before I’d even wake up I’d know it was him carrying me. I could smell the comforting and familiar scent of his cologne, feeling his warm body holding me close.

Sometimes it felt like the extension of a dream, until I realized whose arms I was in.

Even though he was my best friend and I felt like I could tell him anything, there would always be one thing about me that Frank would never know. I loved him. Sure, I loved Frank in the ‘you’re my best friend and I love you as such’ way but I also loved him as . . . more than a friend.

It started in the seventh grade. One day in English we were reciting poems and Frank was called on to read one out loud to the class. As he spoke the words, I couldn’t help but start to feel . . . something. I don’t know if it was the words themselves or the way he’d said them or the way he’d looked up every few lines, meeting his gaze with mine.

Initially, I thought it was just one of those crushes; the kind you felt for a little while then, before you knew it, you’d gotten over it. I figured that I’d eventually outgrow my ‘more than friends’ fascination with Frank and things would be back to normal, but I was wrong. It had been six years, we were in high school, and I still wasn’t over it.

Even when Jason was around and I’d liked him, I still had the same feelings for Frank. I couldn’t help it; it’s not like I enjoyed being in love with my best friend since preschool; I just was and there was nothing I could do about it. No matter what, I was never able to shake my feelings.

Of course, I’d never acted on my feelings either. There was no way that Frank would ever feel the same about me and I wasn’t about to go off and ruin the best friendship I’d ever had. I just had to pretend that I didn’t feel that way; that I wasn’t in love with my best friend.

No one knew how I felt, not even any of the guys. I think the only thing worse than Frank knowing how I felt about him, was the other guys knowing how I felt about him. They weren’t subtle people and the torture they’d put me through, slowly dropping hints and teasing me whenever I was around Frank would be more painful. Frank would eventually catch on and I’d probably end up losing him and the rest of the guys. No, thank you. I’d rather grin and bear it.

So my only other choice was to keep quiet and suppress my feelings for Frank. Hopefully one day I’d get over it but for now I just had to deal with the sad reality that was being in love with my best friend.

I went to bed that night thinking of what I did practically every night; Frank, and how he’d never see me the way I saw him.

Notes

Hey-yo, so I'm back. I've been on winter break for the past two weeks and I feel like I haven't posted in forever. Any-who, in case anyone cares, I've just started posting my first original story to Wattpad, http://www.wattpad.com/user/NicholeUnfiltered

So yeah, if you wanna check it out feel free, otherwise you can comment on this story of which I hope you enjoy reading!! See ya next week!!!