Bullets

Baggage

We stayed out all night and didn't get home until about 4 am. (Thank god my mom left the back door unlocked or else I would not have been able to get inside. We didn't get shitfaced drunk, but I was more than a little tipsy.) I can honestly say that I had a good time. The music was great, the people were great, and my friends were happy, only, all night, I couldn't stop thinking about HIM.

How about I back up a second and fill you in a little.

After our little "conversation" on the couch it felt like my knees had melted and my stomach was doing somersaults. The combination of him being so physically  close to me, and the thought that he actually wanted me was enough to eradicate any self doubt I had at that moment.

"Dance with me." I stood up suddenly, pulling Gerard behind me. Painfully aware of my body and the movements I made, I lead him upstairs to the heart of the party where it was the most crowded and the music was the loudest. At last, when I felt sufficiently lost in the crowd, I turned to face him and took a bold step forward. Inches between us, I looked him straight in the eye, and started dancing. Unashamed, full out dancing. It was glorious. He stared back at me, obviously shocked at my sudden surge of confidence. Then he cracked a smile and began to dance with me.

That was it. No talking, nothing too dirty, just having a good time. After a while, I was getting tired and needed a break. I stepped up on my tippy toes to shout in his ear that I would be right back, he nodded and continued to dance as I snaked my way to the front door.

Being that it was October, and almost two in the morning, the instant I stepped out of the heated mass of people and into the cool air, a chill ran down my spine. I instantly reached for my pocket and pulled out a cigarette  and a lighter. I looked the small, silver, rectangular lighter in my hand. It had a moon etched into it, filled in with metallic blue paint. My dad gave it to me when I turned 13 because he said it would make me look tough and none of the boys would mess with me. In a way he was kind of right, because soon after I also picked up his nasty smoking habit. No boy wants a sad girl with a dead dad and scarred up wrists who smokes.

But...whatever.

I lit the cigarette between my lips and took a drag. The smoke was warm and full and it danced in the night air when I exhaled. That was part of the reason I did it, the smoke was just so pretty.

Anyway, I was ripped out of my lul when Frank came out of the door behind me. I turned around to see he had a cigarette in his mouth too when he looked up at me. Instantly a smile that reached his eyes shot onto his face. I only just met this kid but he greeted me like we were old friends, I couldn't help but return the enthusiasm.

"Oh hey Rose, how's it goin'?" He chirped, digging around in his pockets, probably looking for a light.

"It's going just fine," I said in a mellow voice, as I held out my lighter for him. He gratefully leaned down and stuck the end of his cigarette into the small plume of flame. "This is a great party by the way, thanks for letting us come." I flipped the lighter shut and shoved my hand back into the pockets of my hoodie while taking another drag.

After letting out a puff of smoke, Frank cleared his throat before responding, "Oh no problem man, thanks for coming, Gee was really excited you showed." He said it casually like it wasn't a big deal. Maybe it wasn't, but I sure thought It was.

"He was?" I asked meekly. I tried not to sound too anxious or excited so I stuck my cigarette between my lips again just to give my hand something to do.

Another puff of smoke, "Oh yeah! Sure he was! I told you, he was waiting at that damn door for a half hour to see if you were coming. When you didn't text him after school he got all worried and embarrassed. I swear you were all he talked about." The words fell out of his mouth like water, then he continued in a mocking Gerard voice, "'This girl from art class, blah blah, Rose, blah blah, omg blah blah blah.'"

We couldn't help but laugh, we were both a little buzzed and his impression was spot on. When the giggles faded, we paused for a second, then I spoke again, "So uh, he- he likes me?" I finally asked. It had to be done. I just needed to know he wasn't screwing with me just to get in my pants.

Frank probably sensed my anxiety and softened his tone when responding. He turned to face me fully with his hazel eyes not much above mine, (he was kind of a short guy, but still taller than me.) "Look," he said very seriously, any traces of joking or lightheartedness left his voice. He was completely sullen. "Gerard doesn't have the best reputation in school or in town but that's all bullshit alright? If you're going to listen to anybody when it come to him, you listen to me, Ray, or Mikes because nobody knows him like us. He's had more than his fair share of shit happen in his life and he really doesn't need another thing dragging him down. So when I tell you that he is completely and utterly head over heels for you, I'm gonna ask you to think about what you want from him, because to him, you're not just a piece of ass."

He looked at me, I looked at him. I didn't breathe, I didn't move, I just stared at him in utter shock. He was fucking serious.

Lucky for him, so was I. But unlike Gerard, who had Frank,  I didn't come with a warning label.

The silence was broken by a door opening, and a record player voice, "What the hell are you guys standing out here for? It's cold as fuck."

Speak of the devil....