The Only Hope for Me is You-Frerard

3-Gerard

Mikey is sitting on the couch, his eyes sparkling. A small pile of birthday presents sits before him. I know he wants to open them, but Ma is messing with the camera, and is making him wait. She's finding it funny, watching him squirm like a little kid, when he's usually so mature. I find it funny too.

    Frank is sitting on the couch next to me. I'm between him and Mikey. My lips taste like nicotine. I wish I would have finished that cigarette, but I was too ashamed to smoke a it in front of Frank. Maybe because I really like him, and I don't want him to see me badly. Then again, he's seen me trembling on a bathroom floor. Still, I didn't want him to watch me smoke.

    I should never have started smoking anyways. I don't do it that often, but it's still a habit. I can't even taste Frank on my lips anymore. Only the cigarette.

I remember my first cigarette. I was thirteen, which sort of freaks me out, to think that I was about Mikey's age when I started. But I sort of grew up fast. Hopefully, Miley doesn't go through that.

The cigarette was sort of gross. I was home alone, while Ma was away, visiting my grandmother again. Mikey, being a little kid at the time, was asleep by eight. I always made sure he did what he was supposed to back then. I still try now. But it's harder than it used to be. I have less control.

After the first cigarette, I promised myself that I'd never smoke another one. Then, I lit up my second and cracked open a window to let the smoke out of my room.

I never smoke in the same room as Mikey, and if he comes outside and I happen to have a cigarette, I'll put it out, or make sure to stand upwind from him and keep the smoke out of his face.

    "There." Ma says now, angling the camera. I snap back to reality. "I've got it. I'll test it. Let's take some pictures. Gerard, pose with Frank." She grins at me.

    I grin back and roll my eyes, and then lean towards Frank while she points the camera at us. She thinks she's such a matchmaker. Right before she snaps the picture, I lean over and plant a kiss on Frank's cheek. He blushes a little.

    "Good." Ma smiles. She points the camera at Mikey and takes another picture.

    "Ma..." Mikey is bouncing his leg impatiently. "Can we..." He doesn't want to say it, but he wants her to know that he's getting impatient.

    She grins at him. "Yeah Mikes. Go ahead." She gestures for him to step up and take a gift.

    He pounces ravenously on the pile of gifts, like a lion taking down antelope.
"Open this one last." I say, tapping the big gift.

He opens present after present, (thanking Ma and I after each one) until all he has left are the big gift from Ma and I, and the gift from Frank.

    He opens Frank's first. It's a black-handled switchblade. I wonder about this for a moment, bit Mikey smiles and hugs Frank. He thanks him over and over. Maybe this was something they'd spoken about when I wasn't around. Maybe they're closer than I thought. I feel a pang of jealousy and possessiveness surge through me, but I shove it down. I wouldn't want to miss the best part. I can't wait for Mikey to see what me and Ma got him. I can't wait for him to see the big gift.

    Mikey smiles one last time at Frank before stowing the knife in the pocket of his skinny jeans and looking at the last remaining gift. He sits amid a sea of wrapping paper shreds. Mikey doesn't carefully peel off the paper like some people do. He obliterates it.

    But he seems cautious with this last gift. He reaches for it slowly. It's large, and wrapped in the same christmas wrapping paper as the others. He sets a hand on it and smoothes the paper before grabbing it. It's amusing to watch. He's so careful, like he'll break it if he moves too fast. Like he knows how special it is.