Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Push- Chapter 13 up
I don’t give myself much time, only crying for a minute or so, before regrettably pulling myself out of Frankie’s arms. He stares at me with a sad face as I wipe my eyes.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks me.
Automatically, I shake my head, even though I do. I have to. “Not here. Not now.” I say. I can see he’s stunned by the fact that I am willing to talk about it at all.
I glance at Bob, who had just been watching us. “I’m sorry Bob.” I apologize, looking at the vomit coated grass, and the haphazardly parked car.
He smiles sympathetically. “It’s fine.”
I walk back to the car, and they follow. The doors are still open, since we all got out so quickly that none of us shut them. I slide in, and I’m happy when Frankie scoots in as close as possible, draping an arm around me.
It only takes a few more minutes to get to Frankie’s. We get out of the car, and I thank Bob and apologize again. Frankie waves to him, and Bob winks. Frank glares, and Bob throws hands up in surrender. The corner of my mouth lifts as I watch them mess with each other.
Frankie and I don’t talk on the way up to his room. We go directly to his bed, he sits down first. He’s not forcing himself on me.
I sit down next to him, but I don’t touch him.
“Do you want to talk now?” He asks me again.
This time, I nod. I make a silent promise that I will keep myself in check; that I will not break down. It’s like Frankie can read my mind. “Don’t hold back.” He says. It seems like it’s his motto. “Tell me everything.”
I want to. I want to.
Frankie sighs, and he has a slightly awkward expression, which looks odd on him. He doesn’t seem to know where to start.
“When did it happen?” He says finally.
“Maybe two weeks ago. I’m not sure. I didn’t know until tonight.”
“How can you not know?” Frankie asks. Not in a rude way, just confused.
“Because I thought it was just a bad dream. I thought it was just a nightmare.” I whisper, so he can’t hear how my voice is breaking.
“What did he do?” Frankie says, just as quietly.
“He came in, when I was asleep.” I say, beginning to tremble again. “He made me take off all my clothes…” I can’t finish that part, and I don’t need to. Frankie knows. “I hate him. “ I whisper, and a tear falls from the corner of my eye. My eyeliner must be all over the place.
“I hate him.” I say again. “I wish he’d die. He took the only thing that was mine!” I say, louder now. Frankie looks a little confused again. He doesn’t understand this part.
“What did he take?”
“My viginity…” I sob. “I was saving it. It was special. I was gonna give it to someone special.” Frankie stares. For some reason, something spills from my mouth that I never intended to tell him.
“I was going to give it to you.”
Frankie has the saddest expression. “I’m not worth that….” He whispers, shaking his head back and forth gently.
“Yes, you are.” I tell him, letting the tears continue to fall from my eyes. I can see the dark spots on Frankie’s sheets from them.
“I’m not,” he says again, closing his eyes now.
“Why do you do that? You always act so confident and proud? Why are you saying that now?”
“Pride is just a defense. No one can hurt you if you’re that sure of yourself.”
I’m just watching, listening to him. My Frank; not as proud, and almost broken.
“Frankie.” I say, touching his face, and forcing him to open his eyes. “You are worth it. You are…” but I fall short, not being able to come up with words to sum him up, to sum up what he means to me.
“ I’m not that amazing. I’m not as amazing as you.” Frankie says.
And just like all the other times, something in me stirs, and I’m crushing my lips onto his. This time, he was ready for it. He’s kissing me back, with one arm around my waist and one on my shoulder. I twist my fingers into his hair, and suddenly, we’re rolled over and I’m flat on my back with Frankie on top, though I can’t feel his weight.
His hand is chafing back and forth on my waist, sliding up my shirt.
“Keep going,” I moan against his lips. “Touch me Frankie.”
“Do you really want that?” He asks me.
“Yes. Yeah. Yeah.” I moan, softer than before. I’m not thinking about my answers.
Suddenly, I feel one of Frankie’s hands cupping my bra. I gasp sharply and scream, cupping my hand over my mouth to stop it. The hand whips out immediately, and Frank scoots back a little, slightly abashed.
“That’s why I asked if you really wanted that. After everything, I didn’t think you would.”
Of course, I hadn’t really considered how it would feel to have someone touch me, but it brought back my father. Again, he was taking something special from me. I wanted Frankie to touch me, but I couldn’t.
“I’m so sorry Frankie.” I whispered.
Frankie smirks, and I’m happy to see it. “I didn’t expect you to really want that. Not now.”
“But I do. It just….it’s still scary. It reminded me of…”
Frankie holds up a hand. “I know. Like I said, I didn’t expect you to want that.”
“I still want to be with you though.” I mumble, embarrassed.
Frankie’s smirks becomes a small, gentle smile, and he moves forward, taking me into his arms. I can smell him. He smells good.
“Is this better,” he asks me.
“Yes.” I say.
He rocks me back and forth, and I feel like a child. Exhaustion finally takes over; mental and physical, and I feel myself becoming more tired.
“You can sleep. I won’t leave you.” Frankie whispers.
I’m out by the time he’s finished his sentence.
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“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks me.
Automatically, I shake my head, even though I do. I have to. “Not here. Not now.” I say. I can see he’s stunned by the fact that I am willing to talk about it at all.
I glance at Bob, who had just been watching us. “I’m sorry Bob.” I apologize, looking at the vomit coated grass, and the haphazardly parked car.
He smiles sympathetically. “It’s fine.”
I walk back to the car, and they follow. The doors are still open, since we all got out so quickly that none of us shut them. I slide in, and I’m happy when Frankie scoots in as close as possible, draping an arm around me.
It only takes a few more minutes to get to Frankie’s. We get out of the car, and I thank Bob and apologize again. Frankie waves to him, and Bob winks. Frank glares, and Bob throws hands up in surrender. The corner of my mouth lifts as I watch them mess with each other.
Frankie and I don’t talk on the way up to his room. We go directly to his bed, he sits down first. He’s not forcing himself on me.
I sit down next to him, but I don’t touch him.
“Do you want to talk now?” He asks me again.
This time, I nod. I make a silent promise that I will keep myself in check; that I will not break down. It’s like Frankie can read my mind. “Don’t hold back.” He says. It seems like it’s his motto. “Tell me everything.”
I want to. I want to.
Frankie sighs, and he has a slightly awkward expression, which looks odd on him. He doesn’t seem to know where to start.
“When did it happen?” He says finally.
“Maybe two weeks ago. I’m not sure. I didn’t know until tonight.”
“How can you not know?” Frankie asks. Not in a rude way, just confused.
“Because I thought it was just a bad dream. I thought it was just a nightmare.” I whisper, so he can’t hear how my voice is breaking.
“What did he do?” Frankie says, just as quietly.
“He came in, when I was asleep.” I say, beginning to tremble again. “He made me take off all my clothes…” I can’t finish that part, and I don’t need to. Frankie knows. “I hate him. “ I whisper, and a tear falls from the corner of my eye. My eyeliner must be all over the place.
“I hate him.” I say again. “I wish he’d die. He took the only thing that was mine!” I say, louder now. Frankie looks a little confused again. He doesn’t understand this part.
“What did he take?”
“My viginity…” I sob. “I was saving it. It was special. I was gonna give it to someone special.” Frankie stares. For some reason, something spills from my mouth that I never intended to tell him.
“I was going to give it to you.”
Frankie has the saddest expression. “I’m not worth that….” He whispers, shaking his head back and forth gently.
“Yes, you are.” I tell him, letting the tears continue to fall from my eyes. I can see the dark spots on Frankie’s sheets from them.
“I’m not,” he says again, closing his eyes now.
“Why do you do that? You always act so confident and proud? Why are you saying that now?”
“Pride is just a defense. No one can hurt you if you’re that sure of yourself.”
I’m just watching, listening to him. My Frank; not as proud, and almost broken.
“Frankie.” I say, touching his face, and forcing him to open his eyes. “You are worth it. You are…” but I fall short, not being able to come up with words to sum him up, to sum up what he means to me.
“ I’m not that amazing. I’m not as amazing as you.” Frankie says.
And just like all the other times, something in me stirs, and I’m crushing my lips onto his. This time, he was ready for it. He’s kissing me back, with one arm around my waist and one on my shoulder. I twist my fingers into his hair, and suddenly, we’re rolled over and I’m flat on my back with Frankie on top, though I can’t feel his weight.
His hand is chafing back and forth on my waist, sliding up my shirt.
“Keep going,” I moan against his lips. “Touch me Frankie.”
“Do you really want that?” He asks me.
“Yes. Yeah. Yeah.” I moan, softer than before. I’m not thinking about my answers.
Suddenly, I feel one of Frankie’s hands cupping my bra. I gasp sharply and scream, cupping my hand over my mouth to stop it. The hand whips out immediately, and Frank scoots back a little, slightly abashed.
“That’s why I asked if you really wanted that. After everything, I didn’t think you would.”
Of course, I hadn’t really considered how it would feel to have someone touch me, but it brought back my father. Again, he was taking something special from me. I wanted Frankie to touch me, but I couldn’t.
“I’m so sorry Frankie.” I whispered.
Frankie smirks, and I’m happy to see it. “I didn’t expect you to really want that. Not now.”
“But I do. It just….it’s still scary. It reminded me of…”
Frankie holds up a hand. “I know. Like I said, I didn’t expect you to want that.”
“I still want to be with you though.” I mumble, embarrassed.
Frankie’s smirks becomes a small, gentle smile, and he moves forward, taking me into his arms. I can smell him. He smells good.
“Is this better,” he asks me.
“Yes.” I say.
He rocks me back and forth, and I feel like a child. Exhaustion finally takes over; mental and physical, and I feel myself becoming more tired.
“You can sleep. I won’t leave you.” Frankie whispers.
I’m out by the time he’s finished his sentence.
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