Time to go egg Tucker's house.
As I think I continue to look longingly at Frank and Devlin wishing it was me he was kissing. Frowning I turn my attention to Mikey who is now sitting next to me. My older cousin is watching me through narrow eyes. What is his problem?
“What?” I ask him.
“Something bothering you?” he replies.
Mikey nods before leaning closer to me, “You have a thing for Frank, don’t you?”
This question catches me off guard but I don’t let it show, “Seriously Mikey? No, he’s my best friend.”
“You’ve been different around him these past few weeks.”
“Different, how?” I ask genuinely curious. If he’s noticed things maybe other people have to. That would be really bad.
"It’s like you’re in physical pain every time she kisses him. Every time you’re together you act like a teenager in love. The way you look at him with those eyes….”
I gulp, really wishing this wasn’t happening. Mikey couldn’t possibly have figured it out because if he knows so does Gerard.
“How long have you known?”
“A few weeks.”
“Is it really that obvious?”
“Yes. You blush every time he looks at you.”
I clench my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose, trying not to cry. This is absolutely terrible. The only thing that could possibly make it worse if a certain someone knows.
“Fuck. Do you think he knows?”
“I think he’s oblivious. Either that or he’s blinding himself.”
“What about the devil?”
“Devlin definitely knows.”
“And Gerard?” I ask hoping he says no.
“The one who first brought it to my attention,” Mikey answers.
“Fucking, fuck, shit, fuck,” I groan.
“Uh-oh,” I hear Frank say.
Then he appears beside me on the couch, Devlin sitting on his lap, their hands locked together, her fingers filling in the gaps mine had filled just a few minutes ago. Mikey and I both look at him.
“She only busts out the fucking, fuck, shit, fuck when something is really bad,” Frank explains to a confused looking Devlin. “What’s going on?”
“She’s upset about… Gerard,” Mikey say telling part of the truth.
“What’s wrong with Gerard?”
“He’s going to college tomorrow and he never calls cause of this girl named Kristy…his girlfriend. Amber doesn’t like her too much,” Mikey continues surprisingly telling the complete truth. I envy this kids ability to think on his feet.
Frank gives me a sympathetic smile, squeezing my hand, “Maybe she’s right for him, Ambo.”
I can feel my cheeks burn at the mention of my nickname. Frank is the only one allowed to use it cause we're the only ones who fully understands the meaning behind it. If anyone else used it the name just wouldn't be special. I can see the angered look Devlin shoots me. Maybe Frank doesn’t have a nickname for her.
“God, I hope not,” I answer referring to Devlin.
“Come on, let’s go egg Tucker’s house,” Frank says as Devlin and him stand up.
Before Frank can offer me his hand, Devlin pulls him towards the small group of our friends who are now each holding a cartoon of eggs. Tonight is going to be amazing even if Frank is with the devil. Grabbing two cartoons of eggs I rush after the rest of our group, hollering and shouting. No one really cares if we get caught tonight.
Once we reach Tucker’s house, a good ten fifteen minutes run from Liz’s, I am almost out of breath. Although I’m gasping for air I throw eggs as high up on the house as possible, others tossing rolls of toilet paper. As long as we don’t break a window we should be good.
Ten minutes later I’ve got my breath back but all my eggs are out. It looks like other people are experiencing the same dilemma. Spotting a roll of toilet paper I toss it up towards the roof, a stream of paper flowing out behind it.
“Sink that motherfucker!” I holler as Frank comes up behind me.
“Nice one,” he says before wrapping his arms around my waist, lifting me up and spinning me around. Frank does this often and before it never meant anything, now it makes my stomach do flips.
Devlin, who spots us, looks upset as she stomps over, “Sorry to interrupt but we should probably go before someone calls the cops.
“Good idea. C’mon,” Frank says, taking her hand instead of mine and leading her back up the street.
The rest of our group follows along behind. I stare in envy at their clasped hands. I can feel tears burning in my eyes and quickly look away only to catch Mikey starting at me for the second time tonight. As I go to flip him off, I feel fingers slip between mine.
“I’ll hold your hand,” he whispers to me with his dorky smile.
“Doesn’t have the same effect when it’s your cousin,” I respond punching his arm lightly. Mikey just laughs along with me, our hands still held together.
Note: Review? Maybe, it'd be nice.