The Only Hope for Me is You-Frerard

12-Frank

I always thought Valentine's Day was just a dumb commercial holiday, created by Hallmark to sell more greeting cards, created by chocolatiers to sell more chocolate, created by florists to sell more flowers. The whole idea had just always seemed dumb to me.

    But now, it doesn't seem so stupid. It's a day about love, every kind of love. Friendship, romance, and so on. I would say that it's a good opportunity to celebrate family love as well, but there's not really that much love in my family.

    It's getting close to my dark day, so I figure I might as well soak in all the happiness I can before that day, so it isn't so terrible. So, I decide that Gerard and I are going on a date.

    I wake up on Valentine's Day morning in his bed. It's a school day, which is too bad. I nudge him awake, because we've both slept through the alarm. His clock plays the radio rather loudly in an attempt to wake us up, but it seems to have failed.

    Gerard's eyes flutter open. "G'morning." He mumbles.

    "G'morning." I reply. "Happy Valentine's Day."

    A smile plays at his lips. When he returns the sentiment, his voice is raspy with fatigue, but he's grinning. "Happy Valentine's Day, Frankie." He kisses my temple.

    I feel my face flush. We've been together since September 10th, Mikey's birthday. That was half a year ago. Wow. But despite that, I still blush when he does or says something sweet. I can't really get used to someone being so nice to me, and so loving.

    "You're blushing." He teases, his voice in a singsong.

    "No I'm not. I don't blush anymore. I've gotten used to it."

    He rolls his eyes and gives me a facial expression that says "Really, bitch?" "Yeah sure." He says to me.

    I roll my eyes back at him. "Come on, loser. It's time to go to school."

    The school day seems impossibly long. It's the peak of mating season at high school, and many heterosexual couples seem to think that, in the spirit of a day about love, it's socially acceptable to practically fornicate on their lockers. In this, they are wrong.

    It's easier to think of most high school kids in science terms, as subjects of an experiment. Their bizarre mating rituals seem to have two distinct peaks: Valentine's Day, and prom. I never really understood any of it.

    I'm relieved when I get out of my car at the end of the day at Gee's place. Thank god I'm finally out of that place.

    When we get inside, Mikey dials Pete's number. It rings a few times, and then Pete picks up. Gee and I are both not-so-subtly watching the interaction. Again, I feel like a scientist, observing an experiment taking place.

    "Hey Pete." Mikey says.

    I have to listen hard, but I'm pretty sure I can vaguely hear Pete's side of the conversation.

    "Well, it's Valentine's Day, and I looked for you at school but I didn't see you. I was just thinking that maybe we could do something, like go out on a date?" Mikey sounds hopeful.

    Pause.

    "He's at your house right now?" Mikey seems a bit upset.

    Pause.

    "No, no, don't kick him out. Just have a good night with him. This holiday is a stupid commercial holiday anyways."

    Pause.

    "Don't apologize." Mikey is clearly upset, but I don't know how well Pete registers it.

    Mikey hangs up the phone.