I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

The Plan

Emily

As Mikey and Ray load Gerard into the back of my car, I hand the keys over to Frank. He raises an eyebrow, letting the keys circle around his finger. I know I promised Gerard that I would be there for him. Physically, maybe I won't be, but there's more than one way to be there for someone. Right now, I need to hunt down whoever did this to him and give them a taste of their own medicine. They can't just beat up my best friend and get away with it. Being angry about it won't do anything. It won't teach anyone a lesson. This deserves a lesson, a lesson I'm more than happy to dish out.

"What are you planning, spitfire?" Frank reaches out, capturing my hand in his.

Frank's all for revenge. Maybe if I weren't his girlfriend, I'd tell him. He'd be right there next to me reigning hellfire down on the bullies. We'd be shoulder to shoulder dishing out punches, showing the bullies we aren't to be messed with. Frank would laugh despite his bloodied appearance. After, we'd hide out in the bathroom, licking our wounds and making fun of the scared-shitless faces of the lacrosse players. I am his girlfriend though. He needs to be there for Gerard. If I tell him he'll try and stop me or try and come along. "He needs to go to the hospital. I'm pretty sure he's got a concussion. Tell them whatever you need to, the truth even. I'll catch up with you guys later."

"Em," Frank's hands are now cupping my face, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "Tell me what you're planning."

I'm so terrible at lying to him. Frank's known me too long. He can pick up on all my tells. I also hate lying to him. It feels wrong and dirty. We tell each other everything, no matter how silly or stupid or upsetting. Frank and I don't keep secrets. Not for long anyway. "I can't just let them get away with this, Frank. Someone needs to teach them a lesson."

"And we will," Frank assures me, tipping up on his toes to press his lips to my forehead. "I'm not letting you take on the whole lacrosse team alone though. Right now, Gerard needs us with him. Why don't we take some time to cool down? We can all come up with a plan that doesn't involve you getting pummeled. Okay? I love you. I don't want to see you get hurt."

Sighing, I roll my eyes. I hate to admit it, but Frank is right. Going back in there now would probably only lead to me also going to the hospital. It just feels so wrong to let them get away with this. They could've killed Gerard. We're lucky Bob has the gym period right after Mikey's brother. Who knows what would've happened if he had just continued to lie there. "It's just not right."

"I know," Frank throws his arm over my shoulder, leading me around to the passenger side of the car. "We'll figure out a way to get them back. For now, why don't we just focus on getting Gerard the help he needs. We can come up with a plan once we know he's okay."

Nodding, I lean against Frank, pressing my lips to the spot just below his chin, "I hate it when you're right."

"I know," Frank grins back, ruffling my hair "Get in the car."

I hate hospitals. They smell like death. No matter how many chemicals they use to wipe everything down, the stench still lingers. The lights are too bright, burning into my corneas. The hallways are too white, artificially clean. Hospitals bring back too many memories. The night I fell and busted my head open. The time mom got in a car accident. This summer. Despite their healing façade, hospitals are where people go to die. Maybe not on the first visit, but eventually.

We're all instructed to sit in the waiting room while the doctor runs tests on Gerard. The nurse gives us a manufactured smile, insisting she'll come get us when she has more news. I just want to be there. What if he wakes up in a strange room and thinks we abandoned him? What if he thinks he died? Sitting around is useless. We're not doing any good here. Going and getting myself beat up seems way more effective than sitting on my ass.

As Mikey takes another pass in front of me, I grab his hand, forcing him to sit. His pacing is making nervous. Gerard's brother gives me a pained look, a few more tears spilling down his face. Pulling my blazer sleeve over my hands, I wipe the water away, letting him fall against my shoulder. As I run my fingers through the boy's hair, I think of revenge. The lacrosse boys have run the school long enough. I'm putting my foot down. Calling names is one thing, putting someone in the hospital is a whole other playing field. They're going to hurt.

"How much damage do you think one of those croquet mallets could do?" I question Frank who sits in the chair next to me. His fingers are curled through mine, leg bouncing up and down. His lip stays between his teeth, eyebrows scrunched together. He doesn't like being out here any more than the rest of us. When the nurse told us to sit and stay I was almost certain he was going to cause a scene.

My question pulls the attention of Ray and Mikey, both now staring at me, "A lot."

"Emily what are you thinking?" Ray asks, resting his elbows on his knees.

I let my lips twist up into a wicked smile, "Revenge."

For the next thirty minutes, I explain my plan. How we'll use the homecoming lacrosse game as our battlefield, "We'll take out the mascot first. It'll disrupt the whole game. Take out the mascot you take out the team spirit. Not to mention it'll make them all look like idiots in front of the other players. As soon as the mascot hits the ground we'll have to expect some kind of retaliation. We'll need to make a dash for the locker room. Frank, leave the equipment unlocked after practice. They'll already have their gear. We don't want to take a chance of not being prepared when they find us."

The other's drown me in questions, wondering just how we're going to be able to pull this off. I put each concern to rest, pretty much re-explaining the whole idea over and over. Eventually, Frank begins to nod, Ray following suit.

"That just might be crazy enough to work," Mikey says, his eyes now dry, a defiant look covering his features. "They wouldn't expect that at all."

"Emily," Frank presses his lips to mine. "You're a fucking genius."