The Band Boy

The Ghost In The Bleachers

Friday

"RAINE WAKE UP YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE TO SCHOOL!!!" Mikey jumped on my bed.

"FUCK OFF!" I yelled in his face, before retreating to my pillow.

"No need to be rude." He huffed, pulling out clothes from my closet, and tossing them at my head. I heard a ton of footsteps downstairs, and knew it couldn't just be my dad.

"Who's downstairs?" I asked, picking up a pair of shoes and a hairbrush.

"Frank, he came with me." Mikey tossed me a wet toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste from my bathroom. While he wasn't looking, l changed into the clothes he picked out.

"Why is he downstairs, though?" I was curious.

"Your dad wanted to talk to him. He was giving Frank 'The Look' from the second we walked through the house. Maybe we should've knocked." He twisted the corner of his lip down, realizing his mistakes.

"Maybe." I laughed. "What's 'The Look', by the way?" l managed to say with my mouth foaming with toothpaste. Too much?

"It's the look every guy has to train for. It's when your girlfriend's dad stares at you with the power of satan," I had to interrupt Mikey with fits of foamy laughter, "-are you done? Okay, so when her dad looks at you like that, his eyes turn black and you suddenly feel cold. Like, paranormal activity shit. He's basically summoning thousands of flesh-eating beings to get you out of his sight, and away from his daughter. Your dad's really good at it. Even l pissed myself a little."

"I think dad's still a bit edgy about Saturday." I laughed, rinsing out my mouth.

"What happened Saturday?" Mikey leaned in, and watched me carefully as l told him everything.

"Frank was dropping me off, right, and so we were on the porch, not exactly saying goodbye, but it was implied. And in the middle of it, my dad walks out and catches us when his hand is basically up the back of my shirt. We try to pull away, but his lip ring has now peirced through my lip - which is now bleeding- and he has to help us get it out." 

"WOW HE'S SO DEAD!!" Mikey laughed all over the floor.

"That's not it. It was midnight, and raining like it does in Jersey, and so l made my dad let him stay the night. I came downstairs, and he's talking to Frank, saying that he'll cut off his balls at night. Next morning, we're both up before he is, and so we were in the kitchen eating breakfast, just hanging out. Then, Frank points out l have butter on my lip, and insists on getting it off. And that lasted a good five minutes, and my dad is there somehow. The. Whole. Five. Minutes."

At this point, Mikey was practically dying on my floor, so l kicked his ribs slightly, and noticed white paste on my shirt. l looked through my closet for another shirt, when someone slipped in.

"Hey." Frank gulped, walking into the room.

"Hey, how did my dad go?" I laughed, pinching his cold, red cheeks. 

"Scary as hell." He sighed, flopping onto my bed.

"That's nice. MIKEY GET OUT OF MY BATHROOM, I HAVE TO CHANGE!!!" I lightly kicked Mikey, who was still laughing on the floor.

"What's he laughing about?" Frank grumbled.

"Nothing." I laughed, rolling Mikey out of my bathroom.

I changed into a new shirt, earning disgusted looks from Mikey.

"What's wrong with this shirt?" I frowned, looking at my Blink-182 shirt.

"Nothing......just that....l personally like The Beatles t-shirt, but since you think you can dress yourself, l guess you don't need me." He waved his hand dismissively .