+Bad Catholics+ Frank Iero

+21+

I uncomfortably pulled at my skirt, the itchy fabric of the dingy couch below my thighs irritating my skin. Gerard peeked around the corner at me from the small cluster the boys that were huddled in a small hall in the garage. They thought I couldn't hear their whispering, but I could. They bombarded Frank the moment we walked in.

"I thought we agreed, no more girls at practice?"

"Stop acting like she's anything like the girls you assholes used to drag here every other day," I could hear Frank hiss. "She's my friend."

"Olivia was your "friend" too-"

I could hear a faint punch against what sounded like the sleeve of a jacket, followed by Gerard trying to conceal a yelp.

"Be nice to her. Seriously."

"Fine, jesus. What has gotten into you lately, Frank? You've been acting so weird and-"

"We're running out of time until your mom gets home, let's just practice."

They all timidly emerged from the corner, pretending as if they weren't just talking about me- though not very well. I didn't exactly feel welcome, but I wasn't sure what to do about it. It felt extremely awkward on both sides.

Ray walked up to me and rocked back on his heels as the rest of the boys dispersed to their positions, taking a hand out of his pocket.

"Hi, sorry for being rude. My name is Ray," He said, extending his hand for a handshake. "What school do you go to?"

"Dude," Gerard said, throwing his hands up just as Frank put his face in his hands. "She's in your fucking science class."

"Oh. Oh.... Shit," Ray winced. "I'm really sorry, I-"

"Ray, shut up," Frank interrupted.

"Right," he blubbered, scratching his head. "My bad."

Frank looked over to me as he was strapping his guitar over his shoulder, mouthing "sorry" to me with an apologetic smile. I bit my lip and nervously looked around the room, and it felt like all eyes were on me. Somehow this was more nerve wracking than the party, I discovered. At least when I was at the party there were way more people, and most of them didn't even remember I was there. In the garage, there was only a few of us. There was more silence in between conversations by a large margin.

"I... If I'm not supposed to be here, I can go-" I stuttered, Frank not even letting me finish the sentence before waving his hand in protest with a guitar pick in his mouth.

"No, don't," He said muffled, before tugging the pick out of his lips. "I promise, you're going to love this. They want you here. Right?" Frank looked around at the boys, his eyebrows raised.

"Right, yeah. It's totally fine," Gerard said.

"Definitely," Gerard's brother, Mikey said nervously as he pushed up his glasses.

"Right, yes, and I'm really sorry again ab-"

"Ray, let it go dude," Frank retorted, trying to hide a smirk as he turned to begin tuning his guitar.

I found myself nearing a smile as well. At first, I took it a little personally- but I did try in every power of my being to be invisible through my high school career. It took until then to realize how much it actually worked. It was almost a little validating, if anything.

I carefully watched Gerard plugging in his microphone and the rest of the boys tuning their instruments, mildly fascinated. I didn't know what their band sounded like- Frank didn't tell me much, but he did tell me a few times that some of the music he played in his car to and from school were some of their influences. I knew he was surprised that I liked any of it, but what I didn't tell him is that I was just as surprised as he was. I never really listened to music growing up- at least not on my own. Most of the music I would hear is whatever my father would play for himself, but even then, it was scarce. I think that he avoided playing too much of it around me in fear that it was too inappropriate. In hindsight, the intention was kind of ridiculous considering the circumstances. Pure, but ridiculous.