Fast Friends - Frank Iero

Part 7

The treehouse itself was around ten by five feet, a pretty decent size. The roof was a bit low, though, so that if I stood up, my head would rub up against the ceiling.

Frank and I sat near a window that took up almost an entire wall. It started a couple of inches above the floor, so I stuck my legs out and let them swing back and forth. We were fairly high up, so that if one of us were to fall to the forest floor, there would be serious injury. But I'm not really one to worry about things like that, and Frank seemed to be like-minded.

Names and dates were etched into the wooden walls, giving the treehouse a sort of homey, lived-in ambiance. I looked over to Frank. He was carving an "F" into the windowsill with a pocketknife.

"I see you came prepared for murder," I said, with one eyebrow raised.
"Just marking my territory," he mumbled, focused on his etching.

I stifled a laugh. He was so cute when he was focused.

Frank straightened up, satisfied with his work.

"Here," he said, handed me the old pocketknife, and gestured to an empty spot on the windowsill beside his newly carved initials. I started to chip an "AO" into the wood.

"So," he started, "how long have you been at this school for?"
"This is my third year, I've been here ever since ninth grade," I replied, pausing my etching to push my hair out of my face. "How about you?"
"I came hear late last year," he smiled, "I kind of got in trouble at my old school..."
I gestured for him to continue, as he obviously wanted to tell his tale.

He rolled his eyes and let out a small laugh.
"I snuck into the office and played Blink-182 over the PA system. Twice."
"Which songs?"
"Family reunion and happy holidays," he replied, smirking.

I completely lost it.

"It was a really strict Catholic school, too."

With tears in my eyes and gasping for air, I leaned back onto the floor or else I might've fallen out of the window in my fit of laughter.

"I'll take this," he took the pocketknife from my hand, "before you stab yourself or me."

His hand brushed my side as he pulled the knife away, sending chills up my spine. The realization hit me again; I was sitting alone with Frank Iero. Up in a treehouse. In the forest. Ditching detention. Together.

I sat back up, took a deep breath, and calmed my laughter.

"If only the principal had your sense of humour," he trailed off, smiling.
"If only everyone had a good taste in music," I replied. "By the way, I like your shirt. Would you mind taking it off?"

I didn't actually say that last part, but I was sure thinking it.

He down looked at his Black Flag tee and dark green flannel.

"Which shirt?"
"Both. Where'd you get them, your dad's closet?" I joked.
"Impossible. My dad left a long, long time ago." He said, staring at his feet.

Shit. Recover, Autumn! Recover! What was I thinking?

"Oh, I'm so sorry... I had no idea..."
"Exactly, you had no idea. It's okay, don't worry about it. He left when I was really little so it's not that sensitive of a subject."

The awkward silence between us lasted for what seemed like forever. I panicked internally, trying to think of a way to lift the silent tension.

"But seriously, I really like your shirt. It's not every day you find a Black Flag fan in a school like this." I said, desperately trying to save the conversation. "What's your favourite song?"

We got into a long conversation about our favourite bands, songs, albums, genres. He was so easy to talk to. A bit sassy and sarcastic at times, but it was his unique sense of humour. I could tell that behind his built up exterior, he was a real sweetheart.

Time flew by, and before I knew it, Frank's phone buzzed.

"Shit, I'm late for practice! I completely forgot!"

What, did he play sports?

"Practice for what?" I asked.

He perked up. "Oh, I haven't told you? I'm in a band. We're called Pencey Prep."
"What do you do?" I asked.
"I sing and play guitar. Not very well, but we make do."

So, my guitar suspicions were correct.

"Pencey Prep... Isn't that from Catcher in the Rye?"
"Oh," he smiled to himself, "that's a story for another time. I really gotta go now, though. I would invite you to come to practice, but it wouldn't be that interesting."

Actually, it would. Watching Frank is one of my favourite pastimes. He's simply mesmerizing.

"I guess I'll just have to come to one of your shows then."
"I'll keep you posted."

We climbed out of the treehouse and trekked our way back to the school parking lot. Not a minute after we had parted ways, I received a text from Frank.

"hmu next time you have dt, I gotta follow through with that murder plan"

I shook my head and smiled to myself.

"don't forget the saw" I replied.
"trust me, I won't"

The typing notification bubble appeared on his side of the screen, then disappeared. Then came back to life, then died out. This repeated a couple times.

He was such a dork. A slightly punk, adorable little dork.

After a few more seconds, he finally sent his message.

"that was actually a lot of fun tbh, we should hang out again. I feel like we're gonna be really fast friends."