FicWad

A week and a half has passed and I can sense a change in my household. Revival's been over for a few days now, and my parents are making vain attempts to stay civil with each other. It's interesting to watch them walk through the kitchen like they're the happiest couple in the world. My stomach turns in a violent flop, as if it wants to get away from their staged affection. I take that as my cue to leave.


The Saturday afternoon sun shines over top of the nipping weather. It's almost October, and already the air seems crisp and sharp. I grab hold of the fabric on my jacket's collar and bunch it up around my neck, creating a decent barrier between my skin and the wind. I don't think, but walk. And eventually I end up at the children's park a few blocks over, ready to sit and collect myself before having to go back.


I make my way through the gated entrance before heading over to the swing area. On past the swings and decrepit jungle gym sits the sturdy park bench. I can practically feel the etched wood at my fingertips, inviting me to scrawl my name on the surface as so many other kids have before me. What I don't expect to see lying on my favorite bench is the covered body of a man. The majority of his body is positioned awkwardly on the hard, wooden seat, but his legs stick out about two and a half feet past the edge, just dangling off the side as if he was seated at the end of a dock, trying to dip his toes into water.


Without wanting to disturb the sleeping stranger, I make a sharp turn and start off for the other end of the park where an older bench is stationed. Before I've taken three steps in the opposite direction, I hear the person stirring beneath the jacket over his head.


"Frank?" A groggy voice screeches as if he's just woken up. I freeze, standing like a statue with tiny orange leaves swishing around my feet on the ground, thanks to my sudden stop.


"G-Gerard? What are you doing here?" I ask, almost beside myself with curiosity.


"Oh... uhm. I just come out here, sometimes. Just to hang out I guess." Gerard answers weakly as if it's the strangest thing in the world for one to enjoy themselves at a park. A sudden smile spreads over my features, taking me by surprise. It seems as if fate has brought me to stumble upon something that could take my stress away. If only for a little while. I quickly forget the promise I made to distance myself from this curious boy, and instead walk closer to his reclined figure with a foreign sense of hope rooted in my gut.


"Wanna sit down?" Gerard offers, nearly falling off the bench in his quick attempt to sit up. The coat he was covered with falls to the ground, instantly getting soiled with sand and chips of mulch from the play area to the left.


"Sure. How long have you been here? It's like three." I ask, not really caring either way. Gerard's gaze lowers so far I can hardly see anything but his dark lashes as they make the effort of covering the whites of his eyes. Gerard quickly starts to pick at the skin on his thumb as a distraction. I quickly find that he's not the only one distracted by his odd behavior. Against my will, I'm transfixed on how peculiar he's acting. It's almost as if he could pass for a tragic scene. The kind one should overlook, but can't.


"Well?" I pry, hoping not to startle him in my attempt to jumpstart the conversation.


"Since about four in the morning." Gerard replies with a sudden blush to his cheeks. I realize the gasp I've just released wasn't nearly as manly as it should have been and quickly try to cover it up with some sort of cough.


"Why the hell did you sleep out here?" I ask, hoping that he realizes concern is driving me, not anger. His ferociously pale hand starts to slide up the side of his face before resting in his jet black hair. He runs it through a time or two; leaving small strands to fall as they may all over his broad shoulders.


"I just got fed up with being in the house. Do you ever get like that sometimes?" Gerard answers. I can tell he's being sincere with how effortless the words roll off of his tongue. His hazel eyes sneak a peak at me, seeming to will me into submission.


"All the time, man." I reply, sitting back in a relaxed position before staring up at the sky. A few moments go by; the children being dropped off at the pic nic station would have gone unnoticed had there been just a little more noise. I shift in place, hoping to rouse Gerard from the sudden daydream that's captured his attention.


"So what are your plans for the day?" Gerard asks after blinking for the first time in three minutes.


"I imagine it'll be to hang out here for a while until I think my parents will expect me to be home. You?" I state, struggling to meet anything but his eyes. In a fit of panic, I resolve the situation by staring down at my feet intently; just waiting for the feeling to leave me so I can function normally again.


"Well. I've literally got nothing to do until late this evening. We could uhm..." Gerard starts but then trails off. If we were more familiar with one another, I'd be trying to finish his sentence for him. Something tells me it's not my place to do so though, so I sit content with the silence until he decides to speak up again. "I was thinking we could hang out or something?" Gerard finishes, almost stopping the invitation as a question than anything else. Although I could sense the offer was coming, nothing could prepare me for the whirl of expectations and assumptions that quickly filled my head. Several scenarios play out, one right after the other as if on a reel. I think hard, wondering if the inevitable awkward moments will outweigh the relief of having someone to spend time with. After making my decision, I sit up slightly straighter.


"Sounds great. Where?" I ask, hoping he'll sense the tenderness of my voice as a sign of politeness and not fear, though to be honest I'm struggling with containing both inside of this one body. My nerves are screaming at me to just leave. To just run away and let him fend for himself. To desert him before I could be deserted, myself.


"There's... here? Or uhm... my place?" Gerard lists the two options carefully, waiting anxiously for my response.


"How far away do you live from here?" I ask, looking Gerard dead in the eyes for the first time outside of school. He lifts his fist and at first I sense a punch is about to be thrown. Luckily I'm wrong, and within moments his thumb is sticking out to show me that he's pointing.


"Just back there, actually. Within walking distance. I have a small house on the corner of the neighborhood, bordering two different roads." Gerard mentions as we both decide to glance through the thick layers of trees and on through until it's almost clear that a settlement has been made among all of the vegetation.


Small talk is made; chatter, if you think about it. We nervously stand to our feet; I walk a few paces ahead as Gerard gathers the large coat he'd been using as a blanket. We walk for a few minutes and let the cold air mercifully deprive us of conversation. After a moment, Gerard indicates that it's time to turn.


"Just through here." He mumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet as we make it through the sharp gravel and over to a group of houses lined up at equal distances from each other. "It's that one back there. The one with the dark green shutters." Gerard points. I close my eyes and allow my feet to follow as they have been. I find myself hoping by some grace of God that things get easier with this guy. That it won't always be so hard to look at his face. That I won't feel like I've caught fire every time I think he's about to touch me. Quickly I open my eyes again. We're now standing directly in front of an aged house with tiny little windows showering down the front and sides.


"Hold on, I've got a key." Gerard whispers as he begins to fumble in his pockets for said key. I take in my surroundings without shame. Everything is overgrown but the part of the lawn that is most noticeable from the street. The shrubs surrounding the house have gone wild, nearly trailing up the sides like deranged plants without purpose. In the boxes attached to the two main windows on either side of the centered front door are several groups of wild flowers. They look as if they've not been watered in several months; as if they're barely hanging on. Close proximity to the house brings on an entirely new opinion than what I had originally formed as we were still approaching. Everything on the front porch looks to be covered with about an inch of dust. If it weren't for the fresh finger prints on the glass screen door and the dated Volvo in the driveway, I would think this house hasn't been lived in for years.


"Ah, got it!" Gerard nearly sings as he struggles to stuff the lining of his pocket back into the tight confines of his pants. He approaches the front door and pulls back the screen before jamming the key inside of the chipped door knob. The bright grey door is stark against the unwashed siding of the house, which is a faded charcoal. I notice the shredded welcome mat hasn't been cleaned since the Divine Ascension and every wooden plank beneath our feet hasn't seen a broom in over a year.


"Well... this is it. Home sweet home." Gerard announces as we sit foot inside and a sudden rush of heat hits my skin. The wooden stove stationed to the far right of the living room seems to be doing its job. I look around and feel my jaw begin to drop. This isn't what I expected from such an introverted high school student. Not what I expected at all.