Fifteen Minutes (frerard)

Chapter 4

I walked into my bedroom as Jamia followed behind me.

"Is Frank coming over?" She asked.

"I don't know, I didn't ask," I said. "I guess it's just habit for me to only invite you over. I'll text him later. I just kinda wanna spend some alone time with you, I feel like Frank's always been around.

"You don't like that?" Jamia asked as she sat on my bed.

"No, I like it," I said. "I just don't really like talking about everything in front of him. He doesn't know a lot of stuff about me and I kind of want it to stay that way."

"How come?" She asked.

"Because I don't want him to think I'm weird and just decide he doesn't like me anymore and moves on to be friends with Pete," I said. "Even those cunts are talking about Frank and how hot he is and how he should be friends with them instead."

"Frank seems loyal, he wouldn't leave," Jamia said. "Besides, he believes you two are fate so he isn't going to just leave."

"He's just an optimistic, energetic little shit," I mumbled, sitting on the bed.

Jamia chuckled, nodding her head in agreement.

"But oddly enough I still miss him, even if I only saw him a couple hours ago," I said. "Is it bad that I forgot to invite him?"

"No, he's still new to our circle so I'm not surprised you didn't invite him immediately," Jamia said.

"Circle?" I snorted. "It's more like just a line."

"I don't care, I love our line," she said.

I smiled, laying back on the bed.

"I like Frank," I said.

"Like as a friend or..." Jamia trailed off.

"As a friend," I stated.

"Do you think Frank was right about you two being fate?" She asked. "He seems to really think that you two are destined to be best friends or something."

"I don't believe in fate," I said.

"It would be kinda nice, though," she said.

"Maybe but I just, like, don't really know quite what to do," I said. "What if I really believe that we're fate but then he leaves me? If that fate wasn't real then what is there for me to even really hope for in life?"

"Gerard, I think you're thinking a bit too far into this," Jamia said. "It's Frank, he's the optimistic, energetic little shit and that little shit wouldn't just leave us. He can't leave now, not even if he wanted to, I wouldn't let him."

I smiled, holding her hand.

"Should we invite Frank over now or are we still talking about things you don't want Frank to know about?" Jamia asked.

"I thought about it today," I whispered.

Jamia wrapped her arms around me and I buried my face into the crook of her neck.

"Don't," she said softly. "You don't deserve the cuts on your wrist, you're perfect."

"I'm not," I cried.

"You are," she insisted. "You're my best friend in the whole world and I love you with all my heart. You've got the most gorgeous smile and prettiest hair and the best personality and you're an amazing artist and singer and--"

She was cut off when the doorbell rang suddenly. I flinched at the sound, I hadn't heard it in so long.

"I'll get it," Jamia said.