Carry On

I didn’t leave my room for a majority of the night. When I finally left my comforting shell, Matt had already left, thankfully. I started to make myself a cup of coffee when I was met by Mikey in the kitchen.
“So how much do you actually know about this kid?” Mikey required, leaning against the island.
“I don’t,” I responded vaguely. “I know just about as much as you do.”
Mikey was hesitant before responding. He had seen the look of terror in my face when I heard Matt say “Frank.” He knew that if he wasn’t careful with his choice of words, our conversation would crumble. But Mikey read me like a book.
“Clearly, he’s important to you,” Mikey said at last. “And… if he really is that important, why don’t you talk to him?”
Mikey was very intelligent. Sometimes I felt that, even though he was younger than me, he was a hell of a lot wiser. And he was right. I just needed to talk to Frank, and he’d set the rumors straight. It was then that I realized I’d never gotten his number; I’d only given him mine. It seemed I would have to wait to talk to Frank tomorrow.
At around 1 AM, after a long, heartfelt conversation with my little brother, I made my way back to my bedroom. I knew at this point, and considering the circumstances, I’d never be able to fall asleep, so I decided to stay awake. I cracked open my sketchbook and put on my headphones, and I began drawing as the music flooded into my ears.
I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I awoke in a pile of pencils and my headphones were tangled around my head. I got dressed, choosing a pair of black jeans and the first clean t-shirt I could find. Before leaving the room, I tamed my matted hair in the small mirror on my door. I glanced over myself one last time before heading downstairs.
My father and brother were already in the kitchen when I arrived. Mikey was pouring himself a cup of coffee while my dad sat at the island reading the newspaper and sipping a coffee of his own. I didn’t think my dad had noticed my arrival until he sat down his coffee and began speaking. His eyes never left the newspaper in his hands as he spoke.
“Your mother made you lunch. If you have any after school plans, that’s fine. Just be sure to call either your mother or me.”
“Sure thing, dad.”
I grabbed my lunch, threw my school bag on my back and headed for the car. Mikey soon followed suit. I decided to drive today. When we arrived at school, I told Mikey to go to class without me and I waited in the parking lot for Frank. I wasn’t sure if he’d be in the parking lot this morning, but I took my chances.
Within five minutes, I spotted Frank’s tiny figure across the parking lot. We noticed each other simultaneously, and without my asking, he shuffled over to my parking space.
“Gerard,” he said upon greeting me, “Do you wanna come to my place after school?”
I nodded and the two of us made our way to our first period classes in silence. In each of my classes, I thought of Frank. I thought of everything I needed to ask him. I thought of all the possible ways I could confront the situation, and which way would be the best. I thought of how beautiful he was. I thought about the feeling in the pit of my stomach that I got every time I saw him. I was so distracted by this boy that I could honestly say I’d learned nothing in any of my classes.
After my final class of the day I met Mikey in front of our lockers and asked him to borrow the car for myself for the night. Mikey accepted, as long as I drove him home from school beforehand. Frank was waiting where we’d met earlier this morning, his body leaning against an old oak tree. We all climbed into the car and were on our way. I dropped Mikey off along with my backpack and Frank climbed into the front seat while we rode to his house.
Frank’s parents didn’t appear to be home when we arrived, but to Frank it didn’t seem to matter. He showed me around his house and led me to his room near the back. Frank’s room was fairly small. His walls were painted black, but each wall was lined with what I assumed was poetry, written in silver ink. He had a few band posters lining his wall, but the one that caught my attention was a poster of Green Day that appeared faded and somewhat old. The area around his bed was surrounded with magazine clippings and images, laid out like a scrap book. His room contained so much information, but instead of taking everything in, I focused on the boy in front of me. He had already kicked his shoes off and lay sprawled across his bed, motioning for me to join him at the other end.
I sat down and began to speak. The words poured out of my mouth before Frank even had a chance to respond.
“Frank…what did you mean when you said you were sick?”
At first, he seemed taken aback by my question, but quickly formulated a response.
“ When I was younger, I used to get sick a lot. When I went to the doctor, they didn’t really think it was anything serious. None of the doctors really did any inspections, they just assumed I had a cold. One doctor said that pneumonia was the worst case scenario. But then last year, I started to become exhausted and never left the house. One day, I just felt like I was drowning, and I was rushed to the hospital. Upon further inspection, my doctors located a tumor in my chest.”
At first, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t say anything, really. Frank seemed to have forgotten the conversation and moved on to start up his x-box. He invited me to play him in Call of Duty and I accepted. We played for around an hour before Frank sat his controller down and stood up.
“What’re you doing?” I asked, climbing off the bed to join him.
“I gotta feed my parents’ dog while they’re gone.”
I offered to help multiple times, but to no avail.
“Really, I can do this myself,” he responded, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“I’m just trying to help,” I explained. “You don’t need to stress yourself ou-“
“Dude. You don’t know me. I’m not helpless, and I’m not your charity project,” Frank fumed, his fists clenched.
I immediately felt embarrassment come over me. My face became hot and I stared at the ground. I had nothing else to say. My first instinct was to escape, so I ran. I ran out the front door and into the car and sped away. I refrained from glancing in the rearview mirror. I doubted he’d run after me anyway.
As I made my way home, the drowsiness from pulling an all-nighter the night before was finally kicking in. I found it difficult to even keep my eyes open. I must have blinked. It couldn’t have been longer than a second, but I was driving off the curb and I had no time to react. The last thing I remember seeing is a large tree, illuminated by the glow of my headlights as I bore through the window.

Notes

So yeah...I kind of babbled on a bit in this chapter, and I'm sorry. I'll try to add another chapter tomorrow or tonight if I'm restless. xD