I sit in Art class, drawing carelessly in my book. It’s the last lesson of the day and I can’t wait until I leave…as much as I do love art. Frank is sitting behind me, his eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. I know he is staring, I can feel it. He always stares. I wonder why. I think maybe it is because the teacher sat as apart because we talk too much. Frank and I were best friends and we were always together. I throw a little glance over my shoulder and see his eyes flicker away towards the window. I can see him blush and I turn to the front, a smile forming on my lips as I ruffle a hand through my raven hair.
He was so adorable when he was shy or nervous. I caught him staring. It was only the ten-millionth time I have seen him staring at me. I really don’t mind though. What I would like to know is what goes on his small mind. I must admit, I like him, but he doesn’t know that and nor will he. I don’t want to jeopardise our perfect friendship for something that might never work and destroy what we have. There is nothing wrong with just being friends, although I am one hundred per cent, absolutely in love with him.
The bell rings and I stand up, closing my book and shoving it in my bag as I walk out of class, Frank right behind me. “Frank, do you wanna come to my place?” I ask, more questions beginning to flood my mind. “Sure,” he agrees and we walk side by side out of the school.
The birds chirp and there is quite a strong breeze as we walk home. “So…” I begin nervously. “What was up with you in Art this afternoon?” I ask.
“What do you mean? Nothing was up?”
“I saw you stare at me, then blush when I turned around,”
“I don’t believe that happened,” Frank laughed. “I think you’re mistaken,”
“Oh, I must be then,” I lie. I know what I saw. You’re kidding me Frank. I thought to myself.
“Yep, must be,” he agrees, smirking. I stop walking and it takes a moment for Frank to realise I have stopped and he turns to face me, his face full of confusion. “What is it?” he asks, walking back towards me.
“You’re lying to me Frank,”
“I…ah…um…what makes you say that?”
“Frank stop! I saw the way you looked at me. I have been noticing it ya know?”
Frank looked at the ground, shuffling his feet nervously.
“I see the way you stare at me and you blush. Its okay….i like it when you stare at me,”
“You do?” he wondered quizzically.
“Yeah, I do. I love you Frankie.”
“I love you too Gerard,” he whispered, bringing his head up, Frank’s beautiful hazel eyes locking with mine. I stepped closer and gently placed his soft lips against mine, the cold metal of his lip ring making me shiver slightly. Frank pulled away, smiling.
“That was my first kiss, Gerard,” Frank whispered.
“Me too and Frankie…”
“I love the way you look at me,”