Carry On

You wouldn’t have to ask, at any given moment, how I was feeling. In some ways, I was an open book—or at least when it came to the expressions on my face. And my brother Mike knew immediately what was up.
“Who is it, Gee?” he asked me, grinning widely. “Is she cute?”
If I wasn’t careful, I’d give myself away. I couldn’t just waltz into the room, feeling satisfied with myself, and have my brother find out that the one I was fawning over all day was in fact, not female. He was gorgeous, though. Seemingly perfect in every way. This morning, when my buddy Ray and I were smoking in front of the school, I saw him. His jet black hair fell over his eyes, which were staring at his feet as he shuffled by. He smiled timidly towards us before returning his gaze to the ground. Although he seemed shy, he still had an air of confidence about him.
“Geraaaaard,” Mikey cooed, pulling me out of my dazed state.
I shook my head. There was no way I was giving my little brother the satisfaction of knowing my secret. At least not yet.
“I’m not giving in that easily, Mikes.”
He frowned, but decided to let the matter go. He needed to keep his eyes on the road, anyway. For mid-August, it was fairly cool out, so I rolled the passenger-side window down. We were less than a mile from the school now, and I spotted a familiar figure, crouched down in the distance. I squinted, just to be sure I was right. It was the boy I had seen earlier in the school yard.
Frank.
“Mikey, pull over.”
Mikey slowed to a stop on the side of the road. It was then that I realized that the boy had a gash in his knee and a tattered skateboard beside him. He clearly looked like he could use some help.
“Would you like a ride?” I asked, helping the boy to his feet.
He smiled and dusted off his jeans. “That would be great. Thank you so much.”
“No problem. I’m Gerard, and that’s my brother Mikey,” I stated, motioning toward the rail-thin, geeky boy in the driver’s seat.
“I’m Frank,” the boy replied.
Mikey retained his spot in the driver’s seat and I gave my seat to Frank. I sat in the back seat with his beaten up skateboard. I hadn’t expected to have the chance to talk to him, and yet here he sat in front of me. Frank was easygoing and opened up to us quickly. When I asked him why we’d never met, he said that he’d transferred schools just last week. He told us he was sick a lot, and his parents decided the best option would be to move closer to a hospital. I never got the chance to ask him what he meant. Before I was able to get in another word, Frank pointed out the window to a brick house on the right side of the road, and told us he lived there. Mikey pulled into the driveway and handed Frank his board from the backseat. I climbed out of the backseat and was met by Frank. It was now that I realized how small the boy was. I was no giant, but I towered over him as though I were.
“It was nice meeting you,” Frank said as he shook my hand.
I quickly scribbled my number on a sheet of paper I found in the backseat and handed it to him. “In case you need us again. Call anytime.”
As we drove away, Frank lingered in his driveway before finally going inside. It wasn’t until he was in the door that I could tear my eyes away. He seemed really interesting, and very accepting. However, I didn’t think he would accept me if he knew I’d been crushing on him all afternoon. I hung my head in shame.
When we finally arrived at home, I opened the door to find that my house had become the site of a catastrophe. Or so it seemed.
“Sup bitches?”
Mikey’s friend Matt was sprawled across our couch, food wrappers surrounding him, as he played on our X-box. Sometimes I wondered how someone like Mikey, who seemed so reserved was friends with someone so sloppy and unkept. Matt didn’t care for courtesy. He always showed up at our house without knocking, and used all of our things and ate all of our food without ever asking. My parents never seemed to mind him, but they didn’t really like him either.
I walked into the kitchen to grab a snack and when I returned, Matt was going on about a new student who almost died last year.
“And anyway, they had to resuscitate the kid. They could have sworn he had zero chance of making it. His name was, uh…shit…Freddie? No, Frank. That was it.”
Immediately, Mikey and I exchanged glances, but we said nothing. I lost my appetite when the pain of worrying crept into my stomach. I decided to isolate myself for a while in my room.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what Matt had said. This guy I’d barely just met, who seemed perfect, happy, healthy…he now just seemed vulnerable, frail, and weak. It wasn’t my job to fix people, but I ached for this kid. There was nothing I could possibly do for the kid, and it killed me.

Notes

Hi, everyone. I write fanfictions a lot, but I think this is my first with MCR. Criticism is welcome!