I Drew You Once in Art Class

Twenty-Five

Gerard hitched his bag over his shoulder, his hand on the doorknob. He took a final glance at his mom, asleep and snoring softly on the couch, her mouth slightly agape. Adjusting the collar on his denim jacket, he opened the door. Mikey, his little brother, had left already to walk to school. It was a five-minute walk, so it was pointless for Gerard to drive him. Besides, he didn't want to. Mikey was kind of a twat.

He walked out to the side-of-the-house driveway. The crumbling asphalt was dark and wet, and it smelled like the morning after a storm. Gerard pulled open the door to his bright red car, dripping and glittering with last night's precipitation. He put the key in the ignition and looking over his shoulder, pulled out and made his way to school. He'd see Frank today. He hadn't really thought about it until now, but he reckoned he'd better figure out what to tell him. It's not always the easiest way to start off a conversation: "Oh, sorry, I wasn't at school because my mother's an alcoholic."

Gerard decided he would just say he had been sick.

He wondered if Frank had missed him, or if he had even noticed that he'd been gone.

He hoped so.