I Drew You Once in Art Class

Sixty-Two

Once Frank was outside, he started running, tears falling down his face and his shoes pounding on the asphalt. When he was a good distance from his house, he leaned down, trying to catch his breath between choked sobs. He pulled out his phone, his hand trembling, and called Gerard.

He shivered; he hadn't had time to grab his hoodie, so he stood on the sidewalk, shaking in a wrinkled white t-shirt.

"Hello?"

"Gerard!"

"Are you crying? What's wrong, are you okay?"

"Oh my God, my mom and I got in a huge fight and I really need somewhere to go tonight. I know you don't really like people over... but..."

"Of course, you can come over. I'll come pick you up."

"Okay, I'm on the corner of, um, Beckett and Scott."

Gerard pulled up maybe seven minutes later, his brow furrowed with worry. Frank quickly got in the car.

"Oh my God, are you okay? You look freezing!"

Frank nodded, his teeth chattering. Gerard passed him a jacket from the backseat, turned up the heat in the car and started driving. Frank put on the jacket and tried not to smell it.

He couldn't help but notice the way Gerard's fingers tapped on the wheel, or the way his jaw was stiff. He was nervous.

Frank still didn't know why, but he figured he'd find out soon enough.

They pulled into Gerard's driveway, a side-of-the-house driveway like his own. The house was white with pretty blue flowers painted by the door. There were brick stairs and metal railings leading to the black front door. The house was thin and there were two floors, the paint fading toward the black shingles. White curtains could be seen through the window on the top, background to a little plant behind the glass.

"Your house is the best thing I've ever seen. Did you do these?" He pointed to the flowers.

Gerard nodded before walking up the stairs and opening the door, bracing himself when he turned the handle.

Frank's ears were met with yelling.

A woman stood in the kitchen, looking a little worse for wear, honestly, and a lanky kid with a gray beanie and glasses was screaming at her. Something broken lay on the ground between them.

"Oh Jesus," Frank heard Gerard mutter under his breath. Gerard walked toward the people.

"What is it now? Mikey, what did you do?"

"Me? Why do you automatically assume it's me!? Mom broke my favorite mug!"

"You broke my bank account!"

"That was Gerard, and he had to! Who else was gonna pay for the fucking groceries?"

"I am perfectly capable of buying groceries! Who do you think has been providing for you guys since you were born?"

"Not you! You don't even get off the couch most days!"

"I am in recovery, Michael! You wouldn't know anything about it!"

"You've been in 'recovery' for a month! Be a fucking adult!"

"You watch your goddamn mouth!"

Gerard, who had been trying to get them both to shut up, stuck his fingers in his mouth and let out a loud whistle, and everyone put their hands over their ears until he stopped. They gingerly all removed their hands from their ears and looked at him, waiting.

"I have a friend over."

Both of them leaned to see Frank in the doorway.

"If you guys could act civilized for one night, I would really appreciate it. Come on, Frank."

That was the most upset he'd ever heard Gerard sound.

Gerard walked to where Frank stood frozen and wide-eyed in the doorway and dragged him upstairs.

"Oh my God. Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I was really hoping they wouldn't be fighting when you were over. Oh my God," he mumbled as they climbed the stairs. Gerard led him to a room at the end of the hallway and shut the door behind them, leaning his head on the wood. Frank looked around. Gerard's room was pretty cool. It had tan walls, with lots of posters and drawings and stuff hung up. There were also guitar hooks with three different guitars, and a keyboard on a stand sat in the corner. His bed was in the other corner right next to the window, a plaid-patterned gray comforter atop it, smooth and flat. The room had a gray carpet with a little purple rug on top of it. He had a brown dresser, with sleeves and pant legs sticking out of the drawers like the piece of furniture was vomiting them up.

Gerard turned his head from the door. "I'm sorry, it's kind of a mess, but I wasn't really expecting..."

Frank scoffed. "You think this is a mess? Have you seen my room?"

Gerard shrugged thoughtfully. "True."

There was a CD player and a box full of CDs next to it on his dresser.

"Ooh! What CDs do you have?" He began flipping through them. "Dude. Of course you have every Antarctigo Vespucci album. Nerd."

Gerard seemed to have recovered. "You said yourself they were good."

Frank picked an album.