I Drew You Once in Art Class

Thirty-Four

Linda Iero was no expert on the brain of a teenage boy.

However, she did know that her teenage son was acting really weird.

He hadn't noticed her eyes glancing down at their interlocked hands, hadn't noticed her raised eyebrow when he'd turned the deepest shade of red she'd ever seen.

Linda knew that Frank took her for a dummy, but she was no dummy. She knew way more than she let on. Suddenly, a muffled booming sound came from upstairs.

Frank's guitar. Did he really have to play it that loud?

What the hell are they doing up there? she thought, annoyed as she climbed the steps. She opened Frank's door, and the sound that was muffled before now practically blew her off her feet. Frank and Gerard were standing on Frank's bed.

Gerard was strumming the guitar, more like shredding, actually (a word she had heard Frank use) and they sang some emo-sounding song at the top of their lungs, their voices not at all in tune. They faced each other as Frank sang into a hairbrush, and Gerard threw his hand against the guitar. Frank's mom, trying to keep a straight face, flicked the lights on and off to get their attention. The noise stopped and they both looked at her, eyes wide as they realized they'd been caught. "Turn it down, boys," she said, fighting to keep her voice even as she closed the door, hearing them break into giggles behind it.