Gerard;
I'm just laying down on my bed, looking up at the ceiling, I don't really know what to do. Frank just kind of left, dismissing my mom's offer to give him a ride. I'm terrified. I'm so afraid that he doesn't like me and is just trying to avoid having to tell me no. So I'm laying here, drowning myself in my own thoughts.
It's become kind of a daily thing for me, my thoughts consuming every ounce of me. It always seems to happen after I get myself emotionally involved. With anything, really.
So, now I'm just laying on my back on my bed, in just a t-shirt and boxers. I told my mom I just wanted to sleep after Frank left, but I guess it isn't happening because I don't feel any form of exhaustion behind my eyes. Maybe in my mind and in my physical self, but not where I really need it.
I guess the thought of actually wanting it isn't there because I could force myself to sleep, make myself get the rest I so desperately need. But the ability to vanishes at the sound of knuckles hitting the front door. Mom is still in the kitchen, so I know she'll get it, but I always eavesdrop when company is over.
"Hello, Frank," I barely hear, making my heart stop. What's he doing here? He left. I thought he wouldn't want to be my friend anymore, I thought I freaked him out. I move out of bed and get closer to my door, pressing my right ear against it.
"And, um, who's this?" I hear her ask, making me scrunch my eyebrows. Who would Frank bring here? I know he was supposed to meet up with his friend, Alex, but would he bring him over to a house he's never been?
"This is my friend, Alex," Frank replies. I hear what sounds like mumbling after that, so he must be explaining his appearance or continuing on the subject.
There's silence after that, for me at least. They might have moved from the living room, they might be talking quieter, or they might just be sitting in silence. Either way I'm curious as hell as to what brought Frank back. All he left me with was a maybe. I'm still confused and even a little upset. Maybe he made up his mind?
Just then I hear footsteps getting closer and closer to my bedroom. I jump from my position and dive into bed, throwing the blankets over me. Mom hates finding out when I eavesdrop, claiming she raised me better. I roll on my side and grab my notebook and pen, flipping to a random page to pretend that I was writing. My door opens, making me flinch for whatever reason. I look over my shoulder, looking at mom, Frank, and the stranger, Alex.
"Gerard, Frank came here to talk to you. This is his friend, Alex. I'll leave you boys alone." She smiles at us and closes the door softly, her footsteps retreating.
I sit up in my bed, my comforter falling to my hips. I keep my notebook in my left hand, my pen in my right. "What's up?" I ask.
Frank walks over and sits on my bed, on the edge next my leg. Alex stays by the door, leaning against it and watching quietly. Before Frank talks, he looks down for a second, his eyes connecting with my journal. He's always been so curious about what I write in here. "I want to talk about earlier."
"Oh, um.. Yeah?" I ask, kind of wanting to say more. I don't though, I don't want to ruin my chances with the first person I've ever really liked like this.
"Yeah. Alex and I were talking after we met up. I kind of explained the situation to him and he gave me some advice," he explains, making gestures with his hands while he talks.
I look up at Alex and he gives me the smallest smile, not showing teeth. I get a better look at him, the first thing that sticks out being his eyebrows. "Really?" I look back to Frank, seeing him nod in response.
