The majority of the next day was spent with Gerard and I researching different methods of therapy, and which ones we thought would be most helpful to him. Mikey contacted his own therapist and got Gerard an appointment for the following week, so now all that was left was to make sure Gerard stayed sober until then.
That was made easier by me and Mikey emptying the bottles down the sink. I was worried about Mikey being that close to that much alcohol, but he just laughed and said it was 'liberating'. We didn't touch the pills, because we reasoned that he might actually need those at some point, but Mikey promised he'd keep an eye on him.
"You know, I'm pretty sure that whole cold turkey thing doesn't work." Gerard snapped as he drove me home. Of course, he was pretty against the whole idea. I just rolled my eyes.
"It's necessary. If your new therapist says that it's not the best thing, then we'll go about it another way. Can't you just try?" I sighed, seeing the diligent look on his face.
"You both suck." He said childishly in response. It wasn't a 'no', though, which was helpful. I leaned in to kiss him softly, undoing my seatbelt.
"I'll see you tomorrow. Remember, we're meeting Joe at lunch." I said. He groaned.
"Fuck, I forgot. Shit, Frank, I'm actually kind of worried." He said nervously. I stroked his cheek.
"Hey, Joe loves me, you know? Dude's like my brother. He just needs to see that you're not trying to hurt me."
"And if he doesn't?"
"I'll convince him to keep his mouth shut. Don't worry, honey, nothing's gonna happen to us." I said gently. He smiled a little out of the side of his mouth.
"If you say so, sugar." He sighed. I kissed him again.
"I do. Goodnight, Gee."
"Night." He smiled. As always, he waited until I got to my front door to drive away. I walked in and planned to go straight to my room to finalize the plans for tomorrow with Chris.
My Mom, apparently, had other plans. She intercepted me on the way to the stairs.
"Frank." She said sternly. I sucked in a breath.
"Hi, Mom." I smiled weakly.
"I got a letter from your school yesterday." She said, walking towards the living room. I followed her in, chewing my thumbnail nervously.
"Oh. What about?" I asked nervously. She waved the letter.
"It's from your English teacher. Mr. Way." She said gently. My mouth dropped in genuine surprise.
"W-what does it say?" I stammered. She smiled.
"He said that you're getting the highest grades in your class for this semester." She beamed.
"He did?" I asked. She nodded and passed me the letter. It was typed, but his messy scrawl signed it. Oh.
"Well, that's great." I smiled.
"I hope I didn't scare you too much." She laughed. I shook my head.
"Nah, it's fine." I smiled. She leaned back.
"Can I ask you a sort of awkward question?" she asked. I had a feeling I knew what she was going to say.
"Um, okay?"
"Do you know if Mr. Way is, um, single?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably. Now, this wasn't unusual, really. Since Dad died, Mom and me were pretty open about relationships and stuff. The only thing that made it weird, of course, was that the guy she was referring to was literally my boyfriend, and possibly the love of my life. I coughed to hide my laugh.
