autism . frerard

Ch. 3

I stared at Gerards number on my phone Sunday. I had nothing to do at all. But he said he was busy. I did enjoy the small, emotional talk with Gerard but it was awkward for me.

I was hesitant before typing a quick: sorry for being so awkward yesterday.

I didn't get a quick reply, but thirteen minutes later, which seemed really long, I got a text.

It's okay, I understand

I smiled before turning back to reading my book, not two minutes later I got a text from him.

Did you know I love coffee?

I didn't have any this morning.

You should work at Starbucks so you could get me free coffee.

I'm joking, don't do that.

Frankie?

I chuckled before answering.

I don't like Starbucks, though.

It seemed a few minutes before he replied.

Well then.

I'm joking! We're friends. We're still cool. I need friends, I'm lonely.

Gerard...

'You have more friends than I do. You're my only friend,' I replied.

And I like that.

You know... there's no point in trying to understand Gerard right now. I put down my phone and started reading again. It was like that for a while until around three o'clock I started listening to music and before I could tell, it was dinner time.

Eating with my family was completely different than what other people think it is. People could take one look at us and depict us as a perfect family. People take one look at me and they would never guess that I was a kid with autism; a kid who daily struggles with just trying to talk.

My dad never did like that about me. That the only thing you could get out of me on an average day was a full sentence. He thought I hated him, or mom. I loved my mom, but she still never understood. And my dad just became a complete asshole.

"Frank," He started. I looked up quickly at him. "How was your day?"

This was him. Always trying to be nice, understanding.

"O-okay..."

I quickly put everything away, feeling my nerves tingle. I felt awkward and insecure. I rushed up the stairs and checked my phone. A message from Gerard.

It's really boring without you. I miss you, really, you're the only one that really knows about me and even has the nerve to care. You're the only one I even trust, my parents are assholes.

Feeling a weird and unusual feeling I started staring at the message for about five minutes just thinking of a reply.

I helplessly sent: I'm sorry.

Don't be, you didn't do anything.

I could debate that but I shrugged it off, deciding to go with something different.

No, I'm sorry I can't be there for you.

It's okay, don't worry about me.