"Tomorrow?" Frank groaned as the weather report switched to local traffic, flopping his head back. His head hit the back of the couch, nearly hitting where my hand rested. "How the hell am I supposed to walk home through a storm? I don't even like being inside when it's storming!"
I gave him a sympathetic look. I knew how it felt, having to face phobias. It felt like you were going to die. "You can stay here until it's over, if you want," I offered, not even thinking about it.
He looked up, hazel eyes wide. "Oh, I couldn't do that, Gerard, I-" Thunder crashed outside, the windows shaking, and he jumped, eyes going even wider. "Okay, okay, never mind," he rushed, stumbling through his words. "I'll spend the night here, it's only one night, right?"
"Right," I said, offering him a sad smile. I hated seeing him scared. He looked so weak. "I'm sure my mom will be fine with it. I hardly ever have visitors and she's always telling me to be more social- she'll love you, trust me. Do you want to call your mom?"
"Y- yeah... Let's wait for your mom to get home first, though. Just to be sure it's alright."
"Okay. But like I said, I know for a fact that she'll let you stay."
"Okay." He blinked at me for a few seconds, and then smiled. "Thanks, Gerard. Really. I probably would've fainted if I had to walk home through the mess going on out there. It means a lot."
"No problem," I smiled back. "I understand."
He grinned. "So, wh-"
The front door burst open and my mom walked in, singing loudly. "Gerard," she sang, off-tune and overly exaggerated. "We're home! You forgot to lock the door back!"
I rolled my eyes as Frank burst out laughing. My mom had obviously just bought a new pack of cigarettes- she was always in such a beautiful mood, when she had a new pack of rolled-up death in her pocket. I didn't blame her, though. Every once in a while I would sneak a cigarette from the pack and enjoy a taste of my own demise, too.
It was quite a relaxing experience, breathing cancer into my own lungs.
"Ma," I chuckled as she twirled dramatically into the living room. "We have company, stop!"
She froze, mid-spin, dropping her arms down to her sides as the bottom of her skirt swirled around her ankles. "Oh? Who is this?"
"Ma, this is my friend Frank. Frank, this is my mom."
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Way," Frank smiled.
"Nice to meet you, too, Frank, but please, dear! Call me Mama Way," she winked. "'Mrs.' makes me sounds so old."
Frank just grinned. "Okay, sure."
"Frank needs a place to stay tonight," I said, glancing between my mom and Frank. "Is it okay if he stays here?"
Mom grinned. "Of course!" She turned slightly to the kitchen. "Mikey! Come welcome the house guest!"
Mikey walked into the room, glancing at Frank, and then me, and then back at Frank, looking a bit confused. "Um, hi..."
Frank nodded, waving. "Hi."
Mikey looked at me, and then at our mom. "Uh, I'm just gonna'... Go to my room, so, uh..."
"Go right ahead, dear," Mom said, moving around in that fluttery way of hers, waving her hand slightly. "Oh, Frank, does your mom know you're staying here yet? Do you have a change of clothes? Oh, Gerard, have you two had lunch yet? Do you guys know what you want for dinner? I was going to order pizza, but I feel like we should do something nicer..."
