Soda Boy || Wattys2017

Weekends

I knocked on the door of the address given to me. The door creaked open and everything was dark. Dust covered all of the furniture along with spiderwebs. Just kidding, Frank opened the door with a smile and let me in.

I looked around at the brightly decorated house. It was nice and it made I felt welcomed. I heard a woman call out to Frank and he beckoned me to follow. Is been so long since I've had to introduce myself to someone's parents.

"Who's this?" His mom smiled.

"This is Soda Boy."

"Hi."

"Soda Boy. I've heard a lot about you. Yesterday he got home and carried on about how it's been a month and he still doesn't know your name." She laughed.

I thought for a minute. It would be rude if she had to call me Soda Boy also.

"Gerard." I said.

"You can call me Linda." She smiled.

"It's nice to meet you." I smiled back.

"You too. Now, what would you boys like to eat?"

"Pizza?" Frank said.

"Are you ok with that, Gerard?"

"Yes ma'am."

"So polite." She laughed slightly.

"Thank you."

"I have frozen pizza in the freezer."

"Alright. Pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza." Frank said taking out the pizza and ripping the box open.

I watched as he struggled with the frozen circle. He got a pan and threw it on there. He proceeded to viloently open the oven door and throw the pan onto the oven rack. Midget rage.

"Frank, one of these days, you're gonna open that door way too hard and you're gonna manage to hurt yourself." His mother said, shaking her head.

He started jumping around the kitchen while chanting pizza.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do with him." His mom said leaving the kitchen.

"Pizza!" He said jumping behind me and grabbing my shoulders.

I screamed from the sudden scare. It wasn't a girly scream, it was a manly scream that also happens to be really high pitched. I watched as he laughed his ass off. He fell to the floor and rolled onto his back.

"You are a very mean person." I said looking down at him.

"Can you do that, gigantor?" He asked between laughs.

"You just admitted I'm right that you're short." I laughed.

He stopped laughing and looked up at me.

"You win this time." He said pointing at me.

"Frank, zero. Gerard, one." I smiled.

"I'll get you next time." He said, eyeing me.

"We'll see."

////////////////

"He brings home a lot of friends. Some of them are, ok, I guess. Except this tall, lanky guy. What's his name, Frank?" His mom asked.

"Mikey." Frank answered through a mouth full of pizza.

"Mikey is a sweet kid. You're the second friend of Frank's that I've met that's also kind. I think he needs more friends like you and Mikey." His mom said taking a bite of her pizza.

"Thank you, Linda." I said.

My mom would be so happy to hear that from another parent. Hearing that other parents like her children. Complementing her children. She'd be fucking honored.

"So, what is the story behind your name, Soda Boy?"

"Well, you know how I went to a party a few weeks back?" Frank spoke up.

"Yes."

"Ok, well, he was there and I went to the kitchen to get another drink. All the other kids were drinking except for him. He was drinking soda. I had started a conversation about his drink of choice and he wouldn't tell me his name and so I just called him Soda Boy." Frank explained.

"That's an interesting way of starting a friendship." His mom laughed.

"Well, we weren't exactly friends. He didn't want friends and you know how I am. I'm persistent. So, I kept talking to him and we eventually became friends."

"That's a very interesting story. Usually Frank makes new friends within an hour of talking to them."

"I'm an introvert and I didn't have friends before Frank. He's my first friend in a very long time. People just don't notice me, I guess and I don't want them too."

"Well, I'm glad he met you."

"Thank you."

"Well, kids. I have errands I have to run. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Don't break anything." Linda said standing up from her seat.

"Bye, mom."

"Bye, Frank. Bye, Gerard."

"Bye, Linda."

I heard the front door open and then close letting us know she was gone.

"I remember you telling me that getting to know you was a mistake, not on my part, but on yours. What did you mean by that?"

"That's a story for another time."