Worth Living For

Chapter 12

~Gerard’s P.O.V.~

Frank had called a taxi, and we rode in the car until we found a hotel that Frank felt was far enough away from his dad’s house. He didn’t say anything to me explaining what happened, but I had heard the fight downstairs and I think he knew that.

I followed Frank into the doors and to the front desk of the hotel.

“Are you needing one room or two?” the woman behind the desk asked, glaring behind Frank at me, then looking back at Frank. Frank looked over his shoulder at me, a questioning look on his face, and I knew that he was leaving the decision up to me.

I sighed. “Um, well, to save money, I think we should just get one.” I said to the woman, then looking at Frank. “Is that okay?”

Frank nodded, turning back to the woman. “One room.”

She nodded, then started to take Frank’s information. She finally handed Frank a key,and he thanked her, then started to walk through the hotel. I followed him down numerous hallways, and he stopped in front of Room 95, putting the key into the lock and turning the knob.

The room was very small. A queen-sized bed took up most of the room. In one corner was a table with a mini-fridge that probably didn’t work, and (thank God) a coffee maker. There was a TV that was probably smaller than my head that sat on a table at the end of the bed, and a door to the bathroom.

Frank sighed, dragging his suitcase into the room and resting it against the wall next to the coffee maker. I saw his face light up as he walked over to the coffee maker, and he started to make some. I laughed quietly, putting my suitcase next to his and sitting down on the bed.

Frank made both him and I cups of coffee, and he joined me at the end of the bed. We turned the TV on, leaving the channel on the news. Neither of us paid much attention to it; we just blankly stared at the screen a while as we finished our late-night coffee.

Frank finished his before I did, and he pulled some pajamas out of his suitcase and went into the bathroom. I finished my coffee quickly, then changed into a pair of flannel pajama pants and left my shirt off. I sat back down on the bed, sketchbook and pencils in hand, just as Frank walked out of the bathroom. He had exchanged the nice shirt he’d been wearing for a black t-shirt and had taken his jeans off so he was in his boxers on the bottom. I didn’t notice that I was holding my breath until I felt the weight on the bed shift, and suddenly he was inches away from me, staring forward at the TV.

After a while, I gave up on trying to draw something, because I had absolutely no ideas. I tossed my sketchbook so it landed on top of my suitcase. I “watched” TV with Frank for a little while until I felt like I had to break the silence before things got too weird.

“So, are we staying here for the rest of the week?” I asked, keeping my eyes locked on the screen.

“I’m not sure yet,” he sighed. “Probably. My dad is just going through a lot, and...he doesn’t know how to deal with things like this. He never has.”

“Shouldn’t you be there? To, you know, help him through it?”

“I’ve learned that it’s best to leave him alone when this sort of thing happens. My mom always told me that he just needed his space, and he would deal with it faster than he would if I was there to help him. He doesn’t want me there right now, even if he says he does.”

“Shouldn’t he be helping you through this?” I asked.

Frank shook his head. “He was never the sympathetic one, my mom always was.” he paused, taking a deep breath. “God, I don’t know what I’m gonna do without her.” he dropped his head into his hands.

“Frank...” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Frank, are you okay?”

“I don’t know, Gerard.” he mumbled into his hands. “I don’t know why I even came here. I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into coming. My dad’s being an ass to both you and me, this is just boring and awkward for you, I’m miserable as it is...this was a bad idea, Gerard. Do you want to just go home?”

“No.” I replied. Frank picked his head up and looked at me. “We’re staying here until after the funeral. We can leave that night if you want, but I want you to go. You need to go, Frank. You need to say goodbye to your mom. You’ll regret it later, if you don’t.”

Frank sighed, rubbing his face with both hands. “I know. I just...it’s just so much.”

“I know, Frank. It’ll be okay, though. I’m right here.” I said, wrapping my arms around his body and pulling him towards me, resting his head on my bare shoulder. He was shaking uncontrollably, but he wasn’t crying. I hadn’t seen him cry at all. I had seen him act like he would if he was crying, but without the tears. I found it strange, but didn’t say anything.

We sat like that for a while, Frank’s head resting on my shoulder as I slowly ran my fingers through his hair until his shaking calmed down. Not long had passed before I realized he had fallen asleep. I smiled to myself, carefully lifting his head off my shoulder and resting it on his pillow. I reached forward and turned the TV off, then grabbed the blanket that had been folded up at the end of the bed, draping it over Frank’s sleeping body.

I laid down so that I was facing Frank. I let my eyes roam his face for a while, making sure to look over every detail enough so that I would never forget. He was beautiful. After a while, my eyes grew heavy, and I let myself fall asleep next to him.