Fast Friends - Frank Iero

Part 6

"Take your time, honey, we've got all day," said Frank as I finally arrived at the stairwell.
"Good things happen to those who wait," I replied, with a raised eyebrow.

Fuck, what did that mean? What am I doing?

"How about we just ditch?" Suggested Frank, as he ran his fingers through his effortlessly perfect brown hair. "Unless, of course, if you actually care about..."

"No, screw detention," I said quickly, not wanting to pass up some time with Frank.

Of course I didn't really want to get into the extra trouble for leaving early, but come on. Between the spur of the moment and my unfair detention in the first place, I decided to take a chance. I followed Frank outside the metal stairwell doors, out into the empty field that ran along the side of the school.

The sky had cleared a little bit since the morning and the rain had stopped, but it still looked like it could continue pouring at any second. The air smelled like freshly cut grass and wet cement.

Frank led the way, trekking through the wet grass across the field. I assumed I was supposed to follow. To minimize the water damage to my new grey vans, I tried to step in Frank's footprints.

After a minute or so, Frank glanced back at me, almost seeming surprised to see me following him.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot you were here too," he said with a sheepish smile.

He dropped back a few steps in order to walk beside me. There goes my nice, dry path.

We were nearing the beginning of a cedar forest that lined the perimeter of the school property. Just before the treeline, there was a ditch that stretched from one end of the field to the other. A two by four was placed across the ditch as a makeshift bridge.

Frank made his way across the beam, and offered me a hand once he reached the other side. I grabbed his hand, and carefully walked along the plank, once again trying to spare my shoes from some unnecessary damage.

Call me a creep, but I took a little bit longer than I should to walk across the beam just to feel his hand in mine. His palm was soft, but the ends of his fingers were worn rough. Maybe my guitar suspicions were correct.

I hope my hand wasn't all nasty and sweaty, that would be so embarrassing.

"I know a really cool spot not far from here," Frank said, as he led me into the forest.
"You sure you're not just luring me into the forest for murder or something?" I scoffed.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot to ask; do you prefer being stabbed or strangled? If you really have your heart set on it, I could try suffocation, but there's no guarantees." Frank replied sarcastically.

There wasn't a real path to follow, just a worn-down trail winding between the trees from the grass being stepped on multiple times. About three-hundred feet from the edge of the forest, we came across an old treehouse. There were short planks of wood nailed up the base of the tree, serving as a ladder. The wood looked weathered; there was years upon years worth of damage etched into it, not to mention how soaking wet and slippery it was from this morning's downpour.

"Ladies first," offered Frank.
I raised an eyebrow. "Looks questionable. I'd rather not die trying to climb into a rotten treehouse." I replied.
Frank rolled his eyes with fake frustration. "Are you gonna go along with the murder plan or just keep making things difficult?"

I laughed, and he reassured me that he'd climbed it before, and that it was safe.

"You? Climbing treehouses?" I stifled a laugh. "That doesn't seem very punk rock."
"Shut up," he mumbled, "it peaked my interest, okay?"

I still insisted he go first, and followed him up the sketchy ladder. I didn't know exactly where this situation was going, but couldn't wait to find out.