morning, skipping with frankie
Resting my head back down, I turned in the direction of my window. Just beyond the horizon, I could see a hint of sun, meaning I still had around forty or fifty minutes to get some rest. I tried closing my eyes and doing all of the Ways To Relax that my therapist tought me, but by the time I was about to fall asleep, my alarm started buzzing. I groaned and reached my arm over to hit the snooze button, missing and knocking over a glass of water to the floor instead. At the sound of its shatter, I sighed and decided to get up, enjoying the cool hard-wood floor underneath my feet.
Knowing there was a broom in the bathroom, I made my way out of my room and down the hall. Yawning, I opened up the small white door and reached for the broom. As I made my way to my room, I dragged it behind me lazily. My mom opened the door of the bedroom, squinting while trying to adjust to the light.
"Everything alright, honey?" she said gently. I hated how ever since everything happened, she treated me like some poor little girl that might crack at the drop of a pin.
"I'm fine. A glass broke, I'm just picking it up," I told her.
She looked at me and said tiredly, "Okay. Do you need, uh..." she thought, "Are you going to be using the... bathroom?"
I shook my head, told her, "No," then walked into my room and began sweeping all pieces of glass into the corner. When I turned around, I looked down at my feet. My room has really gotten out of hand. I didn't even hang up my clothes anymore, they all laid in piles on my floor. I don't even remember the last time I actually washed a load of my clothes. Among the shirts, sweatshirts, and pants, were random things; a big pair of headphones, guitar tabs I had printed out, school books...
I stepped over the mess and stood in front of the floor-length mirror, brushing my hair slowly and thinking about Frank. The only thing making this Monday good was the fact that I got to see him.
Upon finishing, I turned on my straightener and as it warmed up, I pulled on a pair of paints, a black Descendants shirt, and my favorite purple hoodie. Then I went back to fixing up my hair, straightening the curled-up parts, especially my bangs. After, I put on my eyeliner and mascara, then finished by putting on my glasses and earings.
This morning, I was much earlier than usual. Most days I was up at 7:10, out the door by 7:40, twenty minutes late to school. My moms face lit up when I made my entrance into the kitchen, carrying my bag and completely ready to go.
"So counseling is helping?" She asked curiously.
I wanted to tell her that, no, I woke up like I always do, this time right before the sun came up. Instead I told her, "Yeah, I guess," and began packing a lunch for myself.
I felt mom watching me, so I looked at her. "I'll be in the car," she said, walking toward the door. I didn't reply, just intently spread peanut-butter onto a piece of whole-grain bread. I threw the sandwich into a plastic ziploc bag, then into my black lunchbox and zipped it.
Before stepping out the door, I pulled my hood over my head and stepped into the February air, breathing in stabbing cold.
Frank looked intently into my eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching, begging to let out a smile. I couldn't help it. I laughed.
"You lose!" he exclaimed, giggling with me, "Again."
I gave an exagerrated sigh, "Oh whatever, you cheated."
Both of us were seated against the fence, on the cold ground of the tennis court. Of course, we weren't exactly supposed to be here. Right now we should have been in study hall.
"Did not! You cheated and still couldn't win." Frank put his hand in his bag and fished around, finally pulling out a square white box of cigarettes. I watched him as he struggled with opening up the plastic, his black hair falling in his eyes. He bit his lip as he finally ripped open the small box. He tilted the box into his hand and took out two, offering one to me.
"No thanks," I told him, shaking me head.
"Oh, that's right, you're straight edge now," he said with a joking tone.
I lightly smacked his arm. He stuck his tongue out at me and we grew quiet as he let the smoke blacken his lungs.
"So, uh," he spoke, after finishing his cigarette, "How's... everything?"
I looked away from his hazel eyes and shrugged. "Not much different."
"And your dad?"
Again, I shrugged. "He tells my mom that he's trying to change... but he just says these things out of no where, and we're back to square one." I paused, "I don't really know what to do, you know? I'm just trying to take things one day at a time, doing anything to keep myself sane." My eyes met with his, and this time we were being serious.
"Well you seem happier," he told me.
He itched his arm and began tapping his fingers on the ground next to me. "Oh, did you ask your mom about seeing Bouncing Souls tomorrow night?" he asked.
I moved my head up and down in a nod, "She wasn't for it."
"Neither was mine. She's way too fucking Jesus-y."
I cocked my head, "Can you say fuck and Jesus in the same sentance?"
He smiled, "Well we both just did, so..." Both of us laughed.
"Sucks too, because Hambone can legally drive us around now," Frank told me.
"Aw, hell. Why don't we just sneak out?" I said, collecting pebbles into a pile.
"Hey, why not," he said, joining in with the pebble pile.
The bell rang, signaling the end of third block. I stood up and stretched my back. "Talk to Hambone and have him pick us up, like, down the road or something."
"I will," Frank replied. We had to go seperate ways so he said, "See ya. I'll call you."
"Alright," I smiled and waved goodbye, then turned to go to Math class, thinking about him.
guess what? i actually saw the bouncing souls last night. they're pretty good live :)
so rate&review, please, i'll be sure to reply