against the works of the flesh//frerard

chapter sixteen

Once upon a Friday, there was a kiss that changed everything. By the third Friday after that mistake, Frank has gotten used to the silent room and is working on his essay nonstop. He's writing today, as he always writes by hand because then when he gets to type it all up, he can structure the sentences much better and revise the text if necessary. It's kind of working twice on it, but in the end it pays off, because his essays always end up practically flawless.

Frank is already eight pages down, everything he states is supported by the right source, which gives the essay some credibility and a great sense of organization. This makes Frank satisfied with his work and at least one thing is going well in his life, unaffected by his feelings. He finishes the introductory chapter today and sighs, looking up and around.

He's rarely nostalgic about being in here by himself, but today is one of those days. It's maybe because he knows he won't be able to spend the night at Lukas's since he has weekend plans with his parents, and because their band practice won't feel the same without their keyboardist.

Well, Frank takes a deep breath and wonders what time it is, reaching for his backpack to get his cell phone. He's not wearing his watch today, because he woke up late after a peaceful night of no dreams, and forgot to put it on. But before he can retrieve his phone from the bag, there is a knock on the door and it opens.

Maybe it's Father Way, saying it's time to go, but it's not. Frank sees a skinny guy, wearing glasses. It's someone Frank doesn't know, who says, "Sorry to interrupt, but do you know where Gerard is?" Frank blinks at him, trying to process the information. "I mean, Father Way? He's not in the house."

find him on the balcony, smoking," Frank says, casually. Father Way hasn't been in the room with Frank for three weeks and he always has to search the house for the priest, so that he can take Frank home. And he has usually found him smoking, sitting on a beanbag in the balcony.

"He's not there either, I've checked," the guy says and Frank shrugs.

"Then, I don't know, sorry." Frank sees the guy smiling at him and looks down at his bag, to get his cell phone. He hears the guy thanking him and then the door closes.

Frank checks the time on the little screen and sees that he still has thirty to forty five minutes before he has to leave, so he goes back to the books and works on taking more notes and quotes for the next chapter of his essay. He drowns in this task, in the books and the information they possess, writing in his notebook like crazy and structuring a whole new chapter. At some point, he loses track of time again and sighs, rubbing one hand over his face because he feels rather tired.

His phone ringing gets his full attention and Frank grabs it from the spot on the desk where he put it earlier. It's his mother. He brings his cell to his ear, answering the call, and she starts talking right away, "Where are you, Frank?"

"At Father Way's?" he replies, because it's obvious where he is. She knows this too.

"It's almost eight, you should be home by now."

"What?" Frank takes the phone from his ear and confirms what she just scolded him for. "Shit," he whispers, but his mother clears her throat accusingly, so she must have heard.

apologizes immediately, but he rolls his eyes because his mother knows perfectly well that he curses. He's old enough for that now, even though she might not have noticed. "I'm sorry, mom. I don't know where Father Way is, but I'll go find him. I'll ask him to take me home immediately."

His mother agrees and tells him to hurry up because they're not waiting much longer to start eating dinner, and he rolls his eyes again. It's not like he really cares. They don't need him to eat dinner.