Every Burden Has a Version

Have I mentioned how much I despise airports and airplanes? I thought not. Airports are crowded with a hundred awful smells like an apartment complex when everyone is cooking a different genre of food. You can’t even get around in airports swiftly without the unpleasant smell of cinnamon rolls giving you a cavity. Then airplanes are about twice as worse. Sharing your airplane seat with a guy that weighs over three hundred pounds is like Six Flags all over!

After I arrived in New Jersey and got off the plane before anyone took their time getting their bags from the overhead department, I stood outside the woman’s bathroom and called Frank.

“This is Frank. You know what to do. Leave a message.” His voice rang throughout my ears that I called again just to listen to his voice.

“Hi, I’m positive that you’re not picking up your phone intentionally because you see me calling, but I’m here in Jersey about to run down to baggage claim. Meet me there if you can, Fr-Frank,” I sighed, putting my cell phone in my pocket.

I took the escalator down to baggage claim, searching for a Mr. Frank Iero. Honestly, I can’t recall what he even looked like after three years of not speaking or seeing him. It’s ludicrous that when I left Jersey for Los Angeles we didn't even keep in touch. We were friends since babies, literally. He is only a month older than me and our mothers were friends before we were brought into this world. It’s like when I left, he hated me for leaving him. Yes, we had some things we needed to fix, but I can’t just pass up an opportunity at a major tattoo firm in Los Angeles. I remember telling him that some issues are better left unsaid than done. He told me to not think like that.

I grabbed my luggage and headed to a bench outside of the airport to wait for Frank. I put on my sunglasses frightened that someone would recognize me. More than half of Jersey is disgusted with me because of my past.

“Violet!” I heard someone shout.

I stood up and glanced around, my hair dropping in front of my face.

“Violet, over here!”

I turned around on my heels to see Frank. I gulped as he waved at me subsequently running towards me.

“Violet,” he said, starring at me.

“Frank,” I mumbled.

He immediately clutched onto me while my hands just dangled at my side.

“It’s great to see you after so long,” he uttered into my hair.

“You too,” I replied.

He let me go and motioned towards his car the waiting zone of the airport road. Frank held the door open for me and put my luggage in the trunk.

“How’s it going?” I asked Frank as he hopped in the driver’s seat.

“Perfect and how about you, Violet?” he questioned, starting up the car.

I nodded and avoided eye contact with him. I was wearing sun glasses, but I still felt as if he could see my eyes perfectly. I didn't want him to know I was staring at his eyes. They were the same gorgeous hazel color they have always been. I bit my lip thinking about how long it has been since I have got lost in those eyes.

“So, why are you wearing those gigantic shades at nighttime, Violet?”

“You know why,” I swallowed my anxiety. It stung going down my throat.

“No, I don’t, Violet.”

“Can you stop saying my name every other word? It’s irritating.”

“Well, I just don’t understand why you’re wearing ice burg sized sun glasses at nighttime or why your hair is dangling in your face. It’s like you’re hiding from something.” Frank began to chuckle. “Are you that popular and famous you have to hide from your fans?”

I wish. “There are too many people here in Jersey that would want me dead for ruining their life.”

“Is that why you left? You thought you were a burden to everyone here? Violet, if that many people wanted you destroyed, you would be dead by now. Who did you think you were a burden to?”

“The child in elementary school and his family along with half of the high school we went to,” I pronounced. “And, possibly your mother hated me for making you depressed and companionless to follow my dreams. I theoretically just left you with out a friend.” I stopped. I didn't want to have this conversation all over again.

“You must be hungry,” Frank changed the subject matter. “Would you like to hit a diner on the way home?”

“Yes, thank you.”

The car ride was soundless. It was not like Frank to not even listen to the radio or to speak out loud to himself. He was a chatter box, truthfully. Frank altered. He changed. It’s not even him sitting in the car seat next to me.

“Take off the sunglasses, Violet,” he demanded, pulling into a diner. He turned of his car and merely slammed himself into this seat. He glared at me.

“I will if you stop saying my name so much,” I retorted.

“I haven’t spoken your name in years, Violet, and I love saying it. I feel like I’m wiping the dust right off it.”

“Oh, good allegory,” I sarcastically joked, smiling at Frank. I took off my sunglasses and removed the hair from my face.

“You still look the same after three years excluding the several more tattoos you have gotten,” Frank chortled. Frank opened his car door and thumped it behind him, running over to get my door. I opened it before he got to do it for me. Frank scowled me.

I began to strut into the diner where a waiter held up two menus.

“This way,” she murmured while I followed with Frank behind me. “Our specials tonight are spaghetti with marinara sauce and cheese sticks.”

I raised my eyes at Frank, sitting down at the booth.

“We’ll take that,” Frank declared. “And, two cokes.”

I grinned. He still had my favorite foods committed to memory.

“So, your birthday is in a day and a half,” I said, gazing around at the picturesque diner. “What are we going to do?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” He rubbed his forehead. “How long are you staying?”

“I’m leaving the night of your birthday.”

“What? You can’t do that. It’s my birthday and you promised you would be here.”

“I am. I’m just leaving at, like, ten or something. I have a job, Fr-Frank. A job is another word for obligation.”

“Yeah, but you can’t just annihilate a pledge you made.”

“Give it up. It was three years ago. You honestly think I’m going to give up a whole day of my life for you?” That came out wrong. So very, very wrong.

“What happened to you? What happened to the Violet that was sweet, funny, witty, an extrovert, and entertaining, huh? Now, you’re jus-just dull and bitter.”

I rested my head on my left hand.

“It was three years ago that the kid died, Violet.” Frank practically crawled over the table to study my face and the emotions that covered. There were none.

“It’s a burden on my life. It’s hanging over my head and one day it’s going to wrap around my neck, killing me.” There were no emotions in the last two words.

“You can just go back to California if you’re going to act like a bitch.”

“A bitch,” I echoed. “Real mature there, dude.”

“Didn't you even miss me or anyone else at all? You just packed up your bags and left.” His eyes amended colors in less than a second and water sprung up from them.

“It was you I missed most of all.”

“You just left. You left without an apology and you didn't fix anything that you – we started.” Frank heaved heavily. “You know what? Here’s my birthday wish. I want you to stay here for the whole week and we’re going to put all of this behind us to enjoy ourselves as friends again. You’re going to meet my roommate, my friends, and talk to my mom, please. She’s missed you so much, Violet. She longed for you to call.”

“Here are your two cokes,” the waiter muttered. “Hey, aren't you Violet Murkowski?”

I nodded up and down.

“We went to high school together! We weren't friends, but I knew about you. Are the rumors true?”

“Every single one,” I faked a smirk when the waiter left. “Your wish, my command,” I announced to Frank as he glanced up at me with a grin. “I can’t let my best friend down ever.”

Frank leaned over the table and kissed me on the cheek.

Notes

Boooyeahhhhh.
(:

-christy-