Frank is getting ready for yet another party
Groaning I walk across the hall into my mom’s room to pick up the phone really not awake enough to talk about anything serious. Thankfully my girlfriend has just called to remind me about the party tonight. It isn’t like I was actually going to forget.
My group of friends does the same thing every year. The week right before school starts up again we have a party each night. I was into it way before Devlin was. If anyone should be doing reminding here it’s me reminding her.
Hanging up I have half a mind just to crawl back into bed and sleep until nine when I have to start getting ready for the party at ten. I’ll probably end up walking Amber there and back. I want to look presentable. Yet, as comfortable as that mattress looks I resist the urge to sleep all day. It really isn’t the best idea.
Instead I make myself pancakes before heading to the gym which is only a few blocks from my house. Jogging there I realize just how warm it is already. The heat index for today is going to be at least 95. Amber doesn’t do well when it’s too hot outside.
After about an hour work out with weights and other machines I jog back, stopping at Amber’s house. From the back door I can hear voices, both male. Mikey and Gerard must have gotten into it again.
Knocking I wait a few second before the door is pulled open by a rather tired looking Mikey Way…his glasses are tilted to the side. Without saying a word he steps out of my way, granting me entrance to the small kitchen. Surprisingly I don’t see Amber anywhere.
“Hey Gerard, Mikey, where’s Amber?” I ask watching as Gerard flips bacon over on the skillet. I don’t understand why people enjoy eating animals.
“She went to the fair grounds with Liz and a few other people. They have to start setting up for Thursday,” Mikey answers trying to steal a piece of sizzling meat but Gerard slaps his hand away with the spatula.
“Oh, is it safe for her to be out in the heat?”
Gerard shrugs, “She brought her inhaler with her just incase. You shouldn’t worry about Amber too much…Liz is there and so is Garry; they’ll take care of her.”
“Right, so you guys coming to the party tonight?” my question aimed more at Mikey than Gerard.
“I’m leaving for college tomorrow so no,” Gerard answers.
Mikey finishes chewing before he answers, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I hear we are gonna egg Tucker’s house. Serves him right for what he did last year.”
“What did he do last year?” Gerard asks as we all sit down around the table, plate of bacon sitting in the middle.
“He’s just an asshole. With a new girl every night, bullies people. But last year, last year he pushed Jonny’s car into the river because he was drunk and claimed Jonny pissed him off,” Mikey explains. I remember this very well. Jonny had a nice car. Now if you drive by the river you can see the top of it still sitting there just above the water, the rest of it glued to the river bottom by mud.
“So you’re going to egg his house?” Gerard asks as if he doesn’t quite understand the concept.
“Hell yes,” I respond. “Guy deserves it.”
Gerard just laughs, “I will never understand high school kids; no matter how close in age we are.”
The three of us laugh together for a while before the phone rings, coming up as Amber’s cell phone. Something must have happened; she wouldn’t be calling unless it did.
I give Mikey, who had answered the phone, a quizzical look but he just shakes his head, a smile forming on his face. What is going on?
“Alright, see you in a bit,” Mikey answers before hanging up.
“The ferris wheel got there. It’s bigger than last years but it doesn’t spin. Amber said the technician guys are looking at it right now and if they figure out what's wrong with it she should be home in the next twenty minutes. She also said that a certain Frank Iero better be looking out for Amber Pan again tonight.”
I smile. She had mentioned me. In the midst of everything else going on she took the time to say something about me. Although I’m a little curious as to why she’s think I would be over here I am pleased she thought to say something.
“Well, I should be going, but tell Amber that I’ll be there,” I answer before getting up and heading back across the alley to my house. While using the bathroom I notice that the natural brown hair is starting to creep back up, over taking the black.
So, grabbing the old ratty towel from the top self of the cabinet and a box of dye that is surprisingly under the sink I set to work dying my hair. This proves to be a rather difficult task without the help of my mother or best friend. Even though it takes a little longer than usual, two hours apposed to the normal one, I manage to do a decent job. As I wait for my hair to dry I eat lunch, watching old Tom and Jerry cartoons on the TV in my room.
Another two hours pass making the time four thirty. I’d waken up at ten so considering everything I’ve accomplished so far today had been going pretty well. Once my hair is dried and straightened I move on to the almost impossible task of finding something to wear.
This is always easier when Amber is over; she tends to just be able to pull random articles of clothing out of my draws or off my floor and the outfit looks perfect. When I try this I end up with a pair of jogging shorts, a light blue dress shirt used for the few times a year I have to go to church and my beat up Converse. Why is this so difficult?
Leaving out my Converse I search through the pile trying to find my black skinnies. Once I’ve located them I find a tie, my white polo and my black zip up hoodie. Putting everything on I stand in front of the bathroom mirror for a very long time trying to figure out if I look alright.
As the alarm goes off, I figure I don’t really have a choice. I didn’t realize how long it took me to get ready. I wonder if that is what it’s like for a girl. Giving myself yet another once over, I jump down the stair two at a time, exiting through the back door glad my mother is working late tonight.
Walking silently across the alley I watch as Amber crawls out her window, crawls across the roof then drops down onto the garbage cans. Tonight she does not fall. My red head friend lands softly on the balls of her combat boot covered feet, smiling widely at me.
“Perfect ten,” I say before offering her my hand. In the short time that it takes her to reach out and intertwine our fingers I take in what Amber is wearing. A black and red plaid skirt, torn up leggings, a black sweater with white skulls decorating it and a blood red tank top; she looks cute in that punk rocker way. I’d always liked the way Amber dressed.
“You look nice,” I blurt out before I am able to stop the thought from escaping my lips.
In the light of the street lamp I can see Amber’s cheeks go red, “Thanks Frank, you don’t look back yourself.”
For the rest of the way to Liz’s house we remain silent, each of us consumed in our thoughts.
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