Chapter 20

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What about us?


A question that rang in Frank's ear for 45 minutes while the ceremony was going on. No real answers came to mind; only different wordings of the question, all still in Gerard's worried, yet still beautiful and soothing voice. Gerard spoke only for a moment while receiving his diploma, but none of the statements about his future or life at high school could drown out the question.


What about us?


Their conversation played over and over again. Frank thought of a million things he should have said instead of the things he did. He thought of how he should have chased him up there and answered his question before he was whisked away by a teacher, ending their talk and sending Frank to sit in the stands and watch. His pep talk was almost not worth the worry and frantic thinking Frank was going through in that seat.


Yes, of course they'd thought about this before; Gerard was going to college and Frank still had a year left in high school. They just never said, bold as Gerard finally had, What about us? And now Frank was wishing he had. Eventually he began to question the TONE in which the question was asked. He sounded a little angry...was he mad at him now? Perhaps he was just scared...or nervous about the ceremony...?


Gerard DID always find Jersey to be more of a prison than a state. Its' own country, he once said, living by its' own screwed up rules. But New York? A whole other country; a whole other world to Frank. But a bright, artistic world full of opportunities to Gerard. In a way, Gerard was escaping, but he took a scenic route; the route he always wanted Frank to take. Following Gerard would be like running away, and honestly, the scenic route wasn't too shabby...but that was because he had someone there to take it with him.


Frank had been running for years, and finally found what he was looking for. But Gerard never stopped running, and now he was finally going in the right direction. As Frank looked up at Gerard who stood tall with the diploma in his hands, smiling right back at him, Frank answered Gerard's question.



"What about us?"


On the empty stage, it was depressing, and the question was very haunting. But Frank, nonetheless, still held onto his thoughts from earlier. They sat down, swinging their legs over the edge of the four foot stage, and faced each other.


"I don't wanna run anymore." Frank stated.


Gerard hesitated. "You don't have to run, Frank."


"Yes I do." Frank replied quickly, "I can't stay here—not without you."


"You can come with me," Gerard suggested, "And we can live together in the New York, the two of us, while you finish high school and I go to college." 


"Illegal." Frank snapped, "I'm tired of seeing cops at my door." He added quieter.


They stayed silent for a long time, thinking over options, looking anywhere besides at each other, and watching the sun begin to set behind him. It had never been quieter between them. Their eyes met finally, and Gerard spoke.


"So what about us?" Gerard repeated quietly.


Frank swallowed, then cracked a smile. "Two months. I think I can make it two months." He said. Gerard scrunched his face up. Frank added, "I'll be eighteen at the end of October. Then I can come. But...only if I find something there for me."


Gerard smiled. "I thought you didn't wanna run."


Frank shrugged. "I can run one more time. Just for the hell of it. Besides," he leaned back on the stage to lie down and Gerard followed.  "What's ONE more scar?"


A moment later, Gerard whispered, "Regret."


Frank shook his head. "Happiness." He corrected, looking over at him, "Freedom."


"Love." Whispered Gerard as he moved closer. Their lips met and they kissed slowly, tenderly, careful not to spoil the reasoning at all with lust.


Frank pulled away. "And I was thinking," he said, "We've got one more killjoy to free and three months ahead of us to do it."


Gerard's face lit up and he smiled wide. "When can we leave?"



***


"They won't let you take him!" She spat as Gerard packed his last suitcase, "He isn't 18 for another month!"


Gerard rolled his eyes. "Have you even TALKED to Aunt Rachel?" he asked, "For all you know they think you're crazy by now, too!"


"I don't have to. I know my sister."


"Well you don't know your son. And I don't mean me." Gerard said grimly as he closed the suitcase. He stormed out of the room and set it by the others in the hallway.


Frank sent a text saying he was just then leaving his house. Gerard groaned and moved his bags outside while he waited on the porch. Not even a goodbye from his parents; they probably wouldn't want him back after this anyway. He checked his wallet; $400. With Franks $200, they should be good for a week, depending on how things go. Took him long enough to save it up...


Chantal always said he'd see him again soon. She just KNEW stuff like that. For a high school dropout, she was probably the smartest out of all of them; she had the common sense to stop running, only it was too late. Gerard got chills as he thought about it; not that it stopped him.


Finally, Frank's car pulled up, and Gerard wasted no time stuffing his bags into it. He climbed in and kissed Frank quickly before buckling himself up and getting ready. He faced Frank now who was wearing stupid 70's sunglasses and smiling like an idiot. He chuckled.


"So, Party, ready to run?" Frank asked.


Gerard laughed again, putting his arm around his seat and putting his own sunglasses on. "Yeah, Ghoul, I am. I believe BLI has got one of our own hostage."


"Name?" he shifted gears and started to go.


Gerard grinned. "Kobra Kid."

THE END.

Thank you for reading.

-Spencer

UPDATE: There is now a sequel titled 'Getaway Mile'! Go check it out!

Runaway Scars - FrerardOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora