Stay

“Did you know you should eat a mango everyday? They’re super good for you in just about every way. Mango is basically the king of fruit.”

“That’s great, Jamia,” I tell her, rolling my eyes, “but I hate mangoes.” Jamia won’t stop lecturing me about mangoes today. She apparently has decided I’ll only heal properly if I eat enough of them.

“That’s stupid. Mangoes are delicious.” She shoves the mango smoothie at me again.

“Please stop,” I sigh, pushing her hand away. “I’m really worn out.”

It’s Jamia’s turn to roll her eyes. “Is that code for ‘I’m really anxious about Gerard sitting outside my hospital room all day’?”

I throw up my arms; she hasn’t let me alone about it since she got here this morning, and it’s mid-afternoon now. “Could we please just pretend he’s not here?”

Jamia takes a sip of the smoothie, apparently resigned to the fact that I won’t drink it. “So you decided, ‘Hey, what a comfortable shoulder-pillow; I think I’ll just fall asleep here’ and then when you wake up, he’s already politely excused himself to give you space and you decide to blame him—again—because you regret your own lapse in judgement. Very mature and reasonable.”

“Could you stop with the judgement, please?” I retort in annoyance. “I’m not blaming him—I just—he shouldn’t have been there so early—why was he even there—that’s weird, Jamia!” I splutter coherently.

She raises an eyebrow. “So you think his timing needs work,” she says flatly.

“No—I mean—” I sigh exasperatedly. “I just—am feeling awkward. Right now.” I bite my lip, glancing away. “I don’t know…what to say to him anymore.”

Jamia grins suddenly, and I’m immediately wary. “So you were planning on something to say to him before?” she inquires with amusement.

I groan dramatically. “How do you always manage to twist my words around?”

“Well,” Jamia chirps, standing with her smoothie in hand, “I’m inviting him in.”

I sit upright abruptly, accidentally hitting myself in the face. “Wait!” I hiss like this will stop her. Jamia, the awful witch of a person I call my friend, strides to the door and flings it open with the glee of a demented serial killer.

“Oh, Gerard,” she calls evilly out the door. “Frank would like to speak with you.”

I pull my best betrayed face, but Jamia doesn’t even look back at me before she saunters off, slurping her mango smoothie. A moment later, Gerard shuffles into view, looking questioningly into the room. I quickly avert my gaze to stare avidly out the window at the fascinating view of an adjacent brick building, and curse the blood that rushes to my cheeks.

“Hey.” Gerard’s hesitant voice breaks the silence.

I don’t respond. Obviously.

Gerard clears his throat. “So,” he says after the longest pause ever. “You wanted to talk?”

The bricks of the other building are annoyingly uneven. Whoever laid them was a terrible construction worker. Bricks are supposed to match up in every other row, but these bricks form crooked lines all the way down—

“Frank?” Gerard ventures anxiously.

—all the way down the building. Well, at least the portion of the building visible through the window. Maybe the rest of it is very even and this is the only section that’s crooked. Maybe this part of the building was the last to be finished and the deadline was coming up so they had to hurry—

Gerard sighs. “I can leave, if you’d prefer that.” He hesitates for a brief moment before adding, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Why are you so damn”—I burst out in frustration, turning to face him at last—“pleasant?”

He stands barely inside the doorway, looking bewildered at my question.

“Why can’t you just be an asshole again?” I go on loudly. “Just, call me stupid names and trip me in the hallway, and tell everyone I’m a loser! Can’t you just do that?”

Gerard stares at me in apparent alarm for a few seconds before saying timidly, “Well, I can’t trip you, Frank. You’re kind of stuck in bed.”

I laugh in surprise which I immediately stop doing because Gerard isn’t funny and even if he was I still hate him. He smiles slightly, encouraged by my reaction, so I glare until his smile goes away.

Gerard runs a hand through his hair uncomfortably. “Look, Frank, I don’t want to…do those things anymore. I wish—” he looks down at his feet and it’s almost adorable but it really isn’t—“I could take it all back. I regret it so much, it aches. In my chest. When I think about it. Everything I’ve done to you….” He looks back up at me through his lashes and his eyes are wet. “I want to say how sorry I am. But I can’t. It’s not enough.” His voice wavers a bit.

“Don’t cry,” I warn, but it sounds slightly comforting, so I amend, “Don’t you fucking cry,” which is better.

Gerard swallows and nods, looking at his shoes again. His hands are in his pockets and he looks like the saddest puppy in the world.

It makes me fucking hate puppies.

“Hello, I hope I’m not interrupting?” a man in his twenties whom I’ve never seen before says as he enters the room. He’s obviously a doctor, from his white lab coat and professional attire, which he affirms by continuing, “My name is Dr. Ross, I’m filling in for Dr. Carlton. You’re Frank Iero, is that right?”

“It’s Frank Queero, actually,” I retort bitterly and then I freeze, not quite believing what I just said.

Gerard nearly chokes. Dr. Ross looks between us in confusion. “I-is that really your name?” he asks uncertainly. “Uh, the forms said ‘Iero’—I can correct those if they’re wrong—”

“No need, it’s Iero.” I glare up at Gerard as he addresses the doctor because I didn’t give him permission to speak. “He’s just joking.”

“Oh,” Dr. Ross says in relief just as I say, “Joking, am I?” Gerard winces, not looking my way. Dr. Ross looks uncomfortable again, his gaze flitting between us. “Am I joking, Gerard? Were you? Was it just a joke?”

Gerard glances at me before averting his eyes again. “I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, of course not,” I agree bitterly. “Of course you didn’t mean anything by it, because you’re perfect now, aren’t you? It must be nice for you to be the hero. Were you interviewed a lot?—I never asked. Are you the local hero now? Should I worship you like everyone else?”

Gerard’s jaw clenches.

“You know, how ‘bout I stop by later?” Dr. Ross offers, backing out of the room hastily.

“No,” I growl, causing Dr. Ross to freeze in his tracks with a mildly panicked look on his face. “Please, stay. Witness the glorious savior and his ungrateful…person he saved.” I frown. “What’s the word for that? Savee?”

“Um,” Dr. Ross says helpfully.

“I haven’t enjoyed this, Frank,” Gerard grits out, visibly trying to stay calm. “And, no, I didn’t do any interviews. I don’t want credit for what I did—I know I don’t deserve it. But please, please, can’t you just understand that I’m trying?”

I bark out a humorless laugh, solely for dramatic effect. “Well,” I spit out, but I don’t actually have a retort so I just shake my head.

“Dear lord, again?” Jamia walks into the room, unbothered by the animosity, with her near-empty smoothie cup in hand. Dr. Ross moves aside for her. “Hi, I’m Jamia,” she introduces herself to him, and holds out her hand. Dr. Ross takes it with a relieved smile. “Dr. Ross,” he replies. “I was actually just leaving.”

Jamia snorts. “Sorry about them,” she says with a smirk. “Did no one warn you?”

I throw an affronted look at Jamia before resuming my glare session with Gerard.

Dr. Ross laughs nervously. “The nursing staff are probably having a laugh about it right now.”

“Well, I don’t blame you for wanting to escape,” she says with a giggle, and both Gerard and I give her weird looks. “I might come with you, if you don’t mind.” She smiles charmingly. Gerard shakes his head in disbelief.

Dr. Ross grins, more confident than before. “Not at all,” he says, and gestures for her to go first. Jamia beams, and flounces out of the room, followed by Dr. Ross who gives us both an awkward nod.

“He’s too old for her,” Gerard says once they’re gone.

“He’s not even that cute,” I agree, staring after them.

“Well, he is, a little,” Gerard allows.

I turn to stare at him with raised eyebrows. “You think he’s cute?”

Gerard shrugs. “You don’t?”

“No!” I cry. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t say so in front of you.”

Gerard frowns like I’ve insulted him. “Why not?” he asks in a hurt voice.

“Because,” I say, trying to recall my reasoning, “I just—wouldn’t.” Gerard tilts his head like a confused puppy. Like a damn puppy. Like a stupid, adorable—

“I think you’re cuter,” Gerard says suddenly, “than him.”

I gape at him.

“I mean,” Gerard goes on casually, “if that’s what was bothering you. You’re way cuter. Like, cuter than most. And I’m including animals. Like fluffy bunnies. Cuter than them even.” He’s starting to get awkward and he knows it, so he stops rambling. I’m still gaping, which seems to alarm him a bit because he adds, “Not to shock you or anything.”

I close my mouth when I hear the buzzing of a fly nearby.

Gerard smiles a small smile, probably because I’ve forgotten to glare at him for the past few minutes. “I’m gonna go make sure Jamia doesn’t seduce that much older doctor,” he tells me cheekily, “because he’s probably a nice guy and it wouldn’t be fair to him if Jamia winds up breaking his heart.” He starts to leave the room. “I’ll see you later, Frank,” he adds hopefully, almost questioningly.

Then he’s gone.

“What,” I say to no one.

Notes

A long one because I made you wait so long--sorry! Hope this was enjoyable. It's more sarcastic than usual 'cause I was really tired while writing it. Please comment because I love hearing from you! :) Aaaaand I'm gonna go eat food now bc I'm hungry