Pretty in Punk (frerard)

Chapter 17

For some reason I can only sing Teenagers to the tune of A Hard Day's Night by the Beatles

~~

It was only a week until winter break and I couldn't wait. No school for two whole weeks! That also means I don't have to see Lindsey and I get to spend more time with Frank.

Speaking of Frank, I was currently at a music store in town getting him a present. Frank told me people give each other presents at christmas too, not just Santa. They do it when they care about each other.

"Excuse me, c-can you help me?" I asked a worker with a name tag.

"Yeah, what can I do for you?" She asked.

"D-do you know people called Ramones?" I asked.

"The band? Yeah, I know them," she said.

"What do I get someone who likes them?" I asked.

I know Frank would like something that has to do with music, he loves music. I just don't know anything about it. Apparently I couldn't even spell guitar correctly.

"Maybe a CD," she suggested.

"What's that?" I asked.

"It's a disk that you can play music with," she said.

I frowned, biting my lip.

"Does he have a CD player?" She asked.

I bit my lip and shrugged.

"Okay, does he play an instrument?" She asked.

"Um, he plays the guitar," I said.

"Maybe you can get him a new pick," she suggested and I frowned. "A pick is something that you use to play the guitar."

"Are they good presents?" I asked. "Would he like it?"

"Well, my cousin plays guitar and he never denies getting new picks," she said. "They're right over there, the triangle ones."

She went to go help someone else and I looked at them. There was all sorts of things in all different colors and designs. I gasped, picking up one that was pink. It had a little white heart in the center and I giggled.

"Frankie will love this," I mumbled.

I smiled and looked at it, walking out. A loud alarm went off and I jumped in fright, looking around. A mean looking man walked up and I whimpered in fear.

"What do you think you're doing?! Stealing from me?!" He shouted.

I could feel my eyes watering as I looked around. I wanted the nice worker back, not the scary one.

"You have to fucking pay for that!" He yelled.

I shrunk back into myself. "I-I didn't know, I'm sorry."

"You didn't know? Yeah, like I'm gonna believe that," he scoffed.

The door opened and a police officer stepped in.

"I heard the alarms going off, is everything okay?" He asked.

"This boy is shoplifting," The man said.

"I-I don't know what shoplifting is," I whimpered.

The man grabbed the guitar picked from my hand and I cried.

"Hey, that's for Frankie!" I exclaimed.

"So you were stealing it," the police said.

I shook my head as I cried. The man pulled out something, something metal that I didn't recognize. He grabbed my wrist and I shrieked in fear.