I Drew You Once in Art Class

One Hundred Five

The next day, Frank left pretty early. He had to go to his grandparents for the day; thank Christ he didn't have to stay the night. He didn't love it there.

They lived in Cape May, a town not exactly known for its progressive values.

He sat in the car now, resting his chin on his hand, looking out the window and thinking about last night.

The two had eventually settled down and dwindled to gentle kisses, before falling asleep wrapped up in the other's limbs.

It was Frank's favorite thing in the world, honestly. He loved the feeling of being hugged and waking up with his head on Gerard's chest, knowing that he hadn't left him.

God, he really was such a teenager.

And he was not dreading this visit to his grandparents. Nope. Not one bit.

He'd worn jeans with holes in them, and a black hoodie, a dark red shirt peeking out just above the neckline.

It was about an hour and a half ride total, and Frank spent most of it texting Gerard.

He couldn't stop thinking about the night before, though, how Gerard had pretty much straddled him.

It was definitely new, let's just say that.

Frank had never even kissed anyone besides Gerard, much less made out with or had any sort of sexual experience.

He really didn't know Gerard's status there. He wasn't sure he wanted to.

Stop it, he told himself. You're in the car next to your mother on the way to your republican grandparents' house do not be thinking about sex with boys.

"Watcha' thinkin' about?"

Frank practically jumped out of his skin.

"Oh, just that I haven't seen Granny and Grandpa in a while. Wonder what they'll say."

Good save.

"Well, just... make eye contact, be your polite, sweet, self. That's all you need. They're your grandparents and... it's just what we gotta do."

The rest of the car ride passed in what felt like 10 hours as they pulled up to the orange Victorian house, (you have to be rich to live in Cape May) the paint chipping away at the seams, and the white curtains in the window gently waving from the air conditioning inside. The American flag jutted sharply from the side of the house, flapping against the wind.

Frank put on his best Good Grandson Smile and rang the bell, while his mom did the same next to him, putting on her I-don't-hate-it-here-at-all face and plastering it to her skin as the door opened.

"Frank!! Lin, oh, Gosh it's so good to see you two! Frank, you've gotten so tall! (No, he hasn't) All the girls must be just running after you! (No, they aren't)"

Frank nailed the smile to his cheeks.

"Haha, thank you. It's good to see you too."

"Come in, come in!"

See, it's not that he didn't like his grandparents. He'd gone to their house since he was little; his grandma would let him eat candy before dinner, and his grandpa blasted music in the house (much to his grandma's dismay).

But as he got older, he started noticing things, the way his grandpa talked about the number of black people living in New Jersey nowadays, and the way his grandma commented on girls that "are just asking for trouble with that skirt."

It wasn't that they were bad people; they just had a lot of outdated opinions that Frank didn't particularly agree with.

"Would either of you like some tea?"

They both politely accepted, sliding their jackets off and hanging them on the nearby hooks.

"What happened to those jeans, boy?" Frank's grandpa boomed from the doorway, smiling merrily. Frank put on the GGS again.

"They're just... ripped," Frank said, stupidly.

"Ah, and you're hair's gotten so long! Practically to your shoulders!" His grandma added. "I'll cut it for you if you like."

"No thanks," said Frank, keeping on his nicest grandson smile.

"Gosh, you've gotten older!"

That is, indeed, what happens when time passes.

"You have to have a girlfriend by now, hm? I bet every girl in the school runs after you!"

About that.

"No, I'm trying to focus on school."

He noticed out of his peripherals that his mom was watching him as he answered.

"That's our Frankie, always the responsible one," his grandma said, ruffling his hair. (don't!)

She pulled him in for a side hug before her brow creased. She rubbed her finger over a spot on his skin, the spot where the shoulder meets neck, quickly. "Oo! You got a little bug bite there! I'll go get some ointment."

Frank was going to kill him.