Prom Fever

The next day at school is surprisingly normal. Gerard acts as though nothing had happened the night before, and I keep trying to get a true answer out of him, being interrupted or having the subject changed on me with each attempt.
It’s lunch when everything goes wrong.
I’m sitting with Gerard, as usual, and trying not to notice how Gerard’s barely picking at his food when that Lindsey girl comes over.
Lindsey, as I said before, is a senior. She’s this tall punk chick with dark hair and eyes that could probably beat me up. While I’m not the biggest fan of her, I don’t know her well enough to have a reason to dislike her, so I try to keep an open mind.
Any hope of that neutral state was destroyed that lunch hour. She sits down next to Gerard, and I assume that she just has a quick question for him or something.
That’s when the words come out of her mouth.
“Prom?”
My stomach dropped the moment it left her lips. As I waited for Gerard to answer, I subconsciously brought my nails to my mouth and began gnawing at them.
Gerard gave me a sideways glance before nodding to Lindsey. “Yeah. Sure.”
Lindsey cracked her gum, replying coolly, “Rad. I’ll pick you up at eight, loser.” She stood, messing up Gerard’s hair before heading back to her table.
I can’t believe the feeling I endure soon after she leaves. My chest feels as though it’s caving in on itself, and I struggle not to cry.
Was I going to ask Gerard to prom? Maybe! I’m still bitter about whether or not he cared about me, but surely that couldn’t have lasted! I was getting to it in my own good time, but any chance for me to take him is now ruined, wiped out with four fucking letters.
She hadn’t even prepared anything special; she asked him out with a fucking syllable. What if she doesn’t even like him? What if she’s just using him? Or what if it’s all some elaborate prank that ends with a sobbing Gerard doused in pigs’ blood?
The thoughts are all too much to bear.
Gerard looks over at me, and he touches my arm, asking in a low voice, “Frank, are you okay?”
And I want so badly to lie to him, to say that everything is just peachy and I’m totally fine with what just happened.
But I never had a convincing poker face.
I literally burst into tears right there in the cafeteria.
Gerard knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s also aware of the fact that I have a history of depression, so he doesn’t link my crying as a consequence of him going to prom with Lindsey. He just sees it as one of my ‘adolescent moments’. He just puts a hand on my back, assuring, “It’s okay, Frank. Everything’s fine.”
But things are definitely not okay. All I know at that moment is that the boy I love not only doesn’t return the feelings, but he’s in love with someone else, someone he’d place over me at any given minute. I knew I wasn’t his number one, but seeing who’d kicked me out of that top spot was heart wrenching. He barely even knows this Lindsey chick; he met her this year! How could he pick her over me?
“Frank, calm down,” Gerard coaxes.
I sob just as loudly, managing, “I can’t calm down!”
“What’s wrong?” Gerard whispers. He’s starting to now take more notice of everyone starting to stare, and so he grabs me by the shoulder of my jacket and lifts me, dragging me into the bathroom.
He closes and locks the door, setting me up on the sink. He picks at his hands for a while, scared to meet my eyes. I would be too; by that point I’m shaking almost violently.
Gerard makes me rest my head back as he wets paper towels, then pressing them against my forehead and cheeks. It reminds me of a surgeon being dabbed at with sponges in an effort to control profuse sweating, and I can’t help but giggle. The laugh comes out all sporadic and choppy through my tears, and I think the uncalled for chuckling only alarms Gerard more.
“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” he asks. It’s the first thing he’s said in a while, and the words come out of his mouth like they were recited millions of times.
I shrugged, lying, “I don’t really know what’s wrong, to be honest.”
Gerard nods, adding, “You know, you scared me there. You can tell me anything, alright?”
It so isn’t true, no matter how much I want to believe it is. If I told Gerard right then and there that I loved him, what kind of friend would I be? He gets asked to prom by a beautiful girl he has an obvious interest in, a girl that’s probably a lot more of a catch than I am. It’d be pretty shitty of me to drop the bomb right then.
So I hold my tongue. I decide not to tell him. Maybe once prom is over, and Gerard fucks Lindsey in some shady motel the night of and never talks to her again, maybe then I can tell him the truth. And if that’s not what happens, if Gerard actually falls for her and they begin to date then…
What will I do then? Continue to stay quiet? What if they’re one of those couples that go straight from high school sweethearts to spouses? I’d never get my chance; Gerard would have no idea.
I glance over at Gerard, see him checking his reflection in the midst of all this. Just by looking at him, I feel like maybe it’s best that he be oblivious. It’s fine for me to keep it to myself; I’m used to being hurt. I’m fragile; I’m supposed to break. But Gerard… to see him hurt would be the literal end of me.
I would do anything to protect Gerard, even if that means virtually tossing myself under a train.

Notes

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