I Drew You Once in Art Class

Twenty-Eight

Frank smiled subconsciously as he walked to his front door.

Gerard had brought the rest of the pizza home ("I'm a shit cook, they'll be grateful they don't have to eat my crappy food"), and the smell lingered on Frank's jacket as he turned the handle to the door. Frank's mom stepped out of the kitchen, her hair in a scraggly bun. "Frank! Where were you? What are you smiling about?"

Frank took off his jacket and hung it on the hooks by the door. "Didn't know it was a crime to smile," he said. He was still bitter about last night. "What's that smell?" he said, wrinkling his nose.

"Brussel sprouts," his mom said, glancing back into the kitchen. "I didn't think you'd want them, but you can cook something else."

"I already ate," Frank said, swinging on the handrail as he climbed the stairs. Frank's mom raised her eyebrow. "Where did you eat? Who were you with? Do I need to meet this person?" Frank rolled his eyes.

"His name is Gerard. We went to Ray's for pizza. You don't need to meet him."

"Why shouldn't I meet him? Is something wrong with him?" His mom crossed his arms. "Are you being bullied, Frank? Because if you are-"

"No, mom! Jesus! I'm not being bullied! Nothing is wrong with him. He's my friend and I'd like to keep it that way and I don't want you to scare him off!" Frank huffed in anger, climbing the stairs to his room and shutting the door. His mom did not come after him.

His fluttery, giggly mood had turned into a dull ache, and Frank sighed as he turned off his bedroom light, wishing he could have stayed at the pizza place forever.

Ray would probably get sick of him pretty fast, though.