Carving Pumpkins (Frank Iero)

Him

 Him

The next day at school was boring, and I just wanted to go home. For some odd reason, Harlow just kept popping into my mind, without a reason or cause. I also kept seeing her in places that I hadn't noticed her before. In the hall on the way to class, in gym, in the library...and, of course, at lunch.

Harlow and I had been sitting together at lunch since the first day, and I'd basically given up on eating lunch. In retrospect, it sounds a little creepy, but I really just liked to be around her; and if going up to get food would take time away from that, then I wouldn't.

I usually wasn't that hungry around lunch anyway. Okay, so I was, big deal. The cafeteria only served meat mostly anyway, so I was okay with skipping lunch.

At lunch, much like today, Harlow was messing around with her iPod, looking like she was trying to decide whether or not to put her headphones in. Every day, she decided against it, and we just ended up talking about comics or bands or tattoos.

Harlow was the coolest person I knew, and I wanted to know more about her. A lot more about her. Turns out, we had the same taste in music, comics, and we both wanted to start a band. And, I found it amusing that the one thing that Harlow seemed to be really, really interested in was my tattoos and lip piercing.

"So, um, what all...tattoos do you have?" Harlow asked, somewhat anxiously.

"Uh...hang on." I pulled up my sleeves to show my completely tattooed arms. I pointed each one out and explained most of their reasonings.

"Um, the one on my shoulder is a portrait of my grandfather, who was a really big influence...I have 'Halloween' tattooed on my knuckles, because my birthday is on Halloween...I have 'BOOKWORM' tattooed on corresponding fingers, because, despite my punk-ass appearence, I love to read...I have 'I AM A GRAVEYARD' on my collarbone, that was one of my bands that I was in...'revenge' on my wrist...a winged Virgin Mary on my arm...an 'NJ' on the inside of my bottom lip...a chainsaw, stars, the Black Flag logo, a human heart, and Japanese sun with black roses on the underside of my arm...a moustache on my finger, because, why not? I have 'Forever In My Heart' along with a portrait of my two grandmothers on my arm...a bloody tooth tattooed on my underarm, a picture of Frankenstein on my arm, an 'NJ' with an anchor for always being anchored in New Jersey on my wrist...'I wish I were a ghost' on my wrist, along with a broken heart with stitches...'Hopeless' on one hand, and 'Romantic' on the other...a scorpion on my neck, and a whole bunch more on my chest and back."

Harlow visibly shook and couldn't stop stuttering. "T-that's...that's, uh...amazing, Frank. I didn't know that somebody could...uh...have that many tattoos before they were, um, eighteen." She looked a little flustered.

"I had my mom's permission for most of them." I said without thinking.

I clamped my mouth shut and sniffed to cover up my fault. The last thing I wanted to talk about was my mom, but the emotion must've shown on my face, because Harlow looked concerned.

"Frank?" She said, leaning forward over the table and scrunching her eyebrows together. "Are you okay?"

I recoiled and looked down at the floor, wrapping my arms around my stomach. I didn't answer her. I wouldn't cry, I wouldn't.

"Frank, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, but I just want to make sure you're okay-"

"I'm not okay!" I shouted, suddenly angry that something as stupid as just talking about my mom could get me teary-eyed. "I'm obviously really not okay!" My voice caught on the last syllable and cracked embarrassingly.

Harlow recoiled and looked hurt. She looked down at the ground, shaking her hair down over her face. I barely had anything left in me but anger, so it was hard to care.