+Bad Catholics+ Frank Iero

+8+

I paced in front of my closet the next morning before school, Frank's invitation weighing heavy on my mind. It should have been an easy decision for me- the last thing you should do when you want to remain invisible is go to a party of all things, nor have I ever had the desire to go to one. For some reason or other, I wasn't quite ready to say no. That was a problem.

    The bigger problem was that a tiny bit of myself was developing some trust for Frank. It wasn't as if I would jump off a bridge if he told me it was a good idea, but I did have some minuscule belief that he maybe wasn't out to hurt me. That thought still lingered, however.

    Still, there were two promises I had made to myself long before any of this- One, don't do anything that would draw any sort of attention to yourself. Two, don't you dare, under any circumstances, allow yourself to trust anyone.

    The fact that I was even thinking about breaking either kind of made it feel like hell was finally freezing over.

    My fingers grazed by each piece of clothing on a hanger, each one seeming as dull as the last. I didn't have much. All anyone had ever seen me in was a school uniform, and anything else I owned was nothing special. A few pairs of plain jeans, some sweaters, and a few random items of my father's clothing that I still held onto. The only jewelry I owned was a very old turquoise ring I received as a birthday gift, which I was told was my mother's, although I never met her.

    There were times every once in a while where I'd catch a glimpse of a photo inside a girl at school's locker, her and her friends in strappy dresses, and I'd suddenly wonder what it would be like. I'd picture myself living a normal life, wearing something interesting or eye-catching, catching someone's attention. Receiving compliments, even. It was only an occasional daydream.

    I sighed, growing anxious at the thought of wearing anything I owned to a party full of people. Soon, the anxiety turned to simply the thought of being around people.

    What are you thinking? You can't go to this, I thought. Someone is going to find out. People have already started noticing Frank talking to you, which means people are noticing you.

    I looked at the time and walked over to my shoes, beginning to feel overwhelmed.

    You've let this go too far. You can't go to that party. You need to cut this off with Frank. Just tell him you don't care if he copies off your homework anymore. Just tell him to leave you alone.

    I laced my shoes and grabbed my books off of my desk, leaving my room and walking down the stairs.

    "I'm going to school, Beth," I said as I began to turn the front door knob. Her frail hand simply popped up from the other side of the chair in response as she continued to face the television.

    Walking outside my head was down, attempting to shove the heavy books I was holding into my bag. Realizing I was hearing a low, consistent growl of an engine, I looked up to see Frank sitting on the hood of his car in my driveway.

    "Speak of the devil," I whispered to myself, a little surprised.

    One leg hung off the front of the bumper, the other propped up with his arm slung over his knee, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. The collar of his white shirt was popped up, revealing a poorly tied tie. I was a little shocked Beth hadn't heard the rumble of his car idling in the driveway- it wasn't particularly quiet. An unfamiliar nervousness bubbled up in my stomach when he looked up and saw me, hopping off the hood.

    "What are you doing here?" I asked as I walked toward him.

    "Giving you a ride to school," he said casually, walking around to the passenger side door and opening it.