The Chasing of Moons

Gizmo vs. Stitch

"Hey Gerard," Frank says, making Gerard jump as he sits down next to him. They're conveniently the only two to have sat down by the tree at lunch so far, and Frank may have planned that accordingly. He may or may not have stolen Pete's lunch so that he would look for it for ten minutes. This is what happens when you give away your locker combination so freely.

"Yes, Frank, what do you want now?"

"I think we've established that I don't want anything from you," Frank says, "I'm just sitting here. I have to eat lunch too."

"Yeah, but you could sit anywhere else. Any of the hundreds of places that don't happen to be near me. Like over there, or in a volcano, or literally anywhere else."

"Yeah, but I want to sit here."

"Fine," Gerard says, stabbing his juice box with a straw and making it spill over his hand. Frank would like to comment on the fact that he has a juice box in the first place, but he decides against it. There's no reason for why he needs to make fun of Gerard drinking from a juice box, he's actually a little bit jealous.

"So, I just wanted to, like, apologize."

"Fuck. Again? That's the twenty third time you've apologized to me."

"You've been keeping track?" Frank asks.

"Yes! And if I'd made it into a drinking game, I'd have needed my stomach pumped two days ago."

"Well, like, sorry again then. Okay, I just like, I think I should keep saying it until you understand that I mean it."

"You apologizing does not mean I am obligated to accept it."

"I know, but like, I am sorry anyway." Gerard mimes taking a shot, and Frank refrains from rolling his eyes. "Well, listen, I don't want to keep trying to defend my actions over the past years, so I'm just going to say sorry and be done with that. I fucked up and I know I did, and I'm sorry, you have every right to be mad, but I sincerely apologize."

"So fucking hammered that I can't remember who the president is," Gerard says.

"Yeah I did say it a lot in that sentence didn't I. Sorry. Shit!"

Gerard snorts, but then pretends he didn't and he looks past Frank's shoulder at the flag pole by the front doors.

"For what it's worth," he says, "thank you for not trying to make an excuse."

Frank smiles, and makes a mental note to thank Mikey, because his first piece of advice has given him the most polite reaction he's gotten out of Gerard yet.

Not a minute later, a disgruntled looking Pete plops down on the patch of grass next to Frank with Brendon not far behind him.

"So I lost my lunch," Pete says dramatically. His flailing arms and melodramatic voice would not be ill-suited for a Shakespearean drama.

"No you didn't," Frank shrugs, "I stole it."

Frank grabs the paper bag that he'd grabbed from Pete's locker and throws it at him, which makes Pete grumble to himself and flip Frank off.

"What did you do that for?"

"The other day when we were over at your house, your mom had made brownies, wanted to see if you had any left," Frank shrugs, which isn't entirely a lie.

"Well the joke's on you then," Pete says, "because I am a bottomless pit when it comes to baked goods."

"I know," Frank growls, "but I am just too full of hope."

"Your mom does make good brownies," Brendon says, looking off as if he's daydreaming. Pete stares at him with a confounded expression on his face before hitting him over the head. "Ow. What'd I say?"