I walked into art class happily. My pretty frilly dress swishing around my thighs. I sat next to Frank and smiled at him. He Leaned over and kissed my cheek and I giggled happily.

"What'd Mr. McDonald say about your paper?" Frank asked.

I pouted slightly as I crossed my arms.

"He got a red pen and started writing all over my paper," I complained.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," he said.

"I worked so hard on it and then he ruined it," I said.

He rubbed my back gently and I smiled.

"Anyways, wanna come back to my place after school?" Frank asked.

"Can we have kissies?" I asked.

"Of course we can," he confirmed.

"I gots to tell my dad though so he doesn't worry," I said.

I grabbed my art stuff and spread it onto the table.

"My Mama used to worry about me all the time," I said. "That's why she kept me safe. The world is dangerous, she always told me so. Said there was mean people who are very bad."

I picked up my pencil and started drawing.

"Gee, this place really isn't all that bad," Frank said. "Sometimes it may seem scary and horrible but there will always be a good thing within it, no matter how small."

I looked over at him.

"That's what my grandpa used to say when I was younger and used to have nightmares," Frank said.

"I have nightmares too," I said. "About the time I was taken from my Mama, it was very really scary."

He gave me a soft kiss and I smiled.

"Fags," I heard someone say.

Frank glared at them and I looked at him in confusion.

"What's a fag?" I asked.

"Nothing, sweetheart," he replied, scowling slightly. "Just a cigarette."

"What's a cigarette?" I asked.

Frank looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"Just a really bad thing that causes cancer," he said.

"What's cancer?" I asked.

"Oh, Jesus," frank muttered. "Today is not the day I wanted to teach you about the bad things."

"So there are bad things?" I asked. "Mama was right?"

"There's good things too," Frank said. "I'm a good thing. I am good, right?"

I giggled quietly. "Yeah, you're really good, da--"

"Maybe you shouldn't call me that in front of other people," he interrupted.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because not everyone would understand," he said.

I was still confused but I instead just kept drawing. Class ended and I texted my dad that I was going to Frank's house. I swung our hands between us as we walked to his car. Frank's car was weird. There were two seats in the front and three seats in the back. The rest of it was completely flat!

"What kinda car is this?" I asked as he opened my door for me.

"It's a truck," he said.

"But I thought trucks were those big, scary, rumbly cars that Mikey showed me," I said.

"Those are semi trucks, this is a different kind of truck," he said.

He shut the door and got into his side as he started off towards his house.

"Can I drive?" I asked.

"You have to go to a special school to be able to do that," he said. "When you go to the school you'll get a license that says you'll be able to drive."

"Can I see your license?" I asked.

"Yeah, here, it's in the first pocket," Frank said.

He handed me his wallet and I opened it. I pulled out a card and giggled.

"Your hair is long," I remarked, looking at the picture of him.

"Huh?" He muttered, glancing over at it. "Oh, yeah, that was before I shaved it all off."

"Why'd you shave it off?" I asked.

"I don't know, just wanted to start new again," he said.

"Mama would never let me shave my hair, she likes my hair long," I said.

He reached over to hold my hand and I smiled. We got to his house and he pulled me up to his bedroom. Frank sat on the bed, pulling me onto his lap.

"I have a question," he said, giving me a soft kiss. "What does W-E-E-R-D spell?"

"Weird," I answered proudly.

Frank shook his head as he laughed. "You're adorable."

He pressed his lips against mine, setting me down on the bed as he laid on top of me.

"Do you have any toys?" I asked.

"None that won't ruin your innocence," he muttered.

Frank kissed me again before I could think about it, not that I could really think at all. His lips made my brain all fuzzy in the best way possible.

"I like our boyfriend kissies," I mumbled.

"Me too," he agreed.

Frank leaned down again, capturing my lips in his.

"Frankie, I'm home!" I heard someone call but Frank didn't seem to notice.

His hands rested on my hips as he kissed me. The door opened and Frank jumped up.

"Awe, mom, c'mon, cockblock much?" Frank complained.

His mom snickered. "Door stays open and I wanna hear talking."

She walked away and Frank sat beside me.

"What's a cockblock?" I asked.

"That's not important," he said. "What is important is that we don't get to kiss anymore."

"No boyfriend kissies?" I pouted.

"Unfortunately not," he said.

"Oh," I mumbled. "Can I see your toys now then?"

"I don't think so," he denied.

"But I showed you my pony and my dollhouse," I stated.

"My toys and your toys are very different kinds of toys," he said.

"I don't understand," I mumbled.

"And it's good that you don't, I haven't completely ruined your innocence then," Frank said.

I kissed his cheek and giggled, standing up and jumping on the bed. There was footsteps and I saw his mom in the doorway.

"Oh, I heard the talking stop and then suddenly there was a creaking bed," she said.

"Oh c'mon, mom, it's not like I'd do it while you're home," he said.

"Do what?" I asked as I jumped.

"Is he serious?" His mom asked.

"'Fraid so," Frank said as he got up and started jumping with me.

I giggled, holding on his hands as we jumped in a little circle. His mom looked at us in confusion for a minute before walking away.

"You know, back when I was a teenager we were all smoking and drinking and having sex!" She called. "What's happened to this generation?"

"What's sex?" I asked Frankie as we jumped.

"Something I will show you later, hopefully," Frank replied.

"Like tonight?" I asked.

"That's too soon," he said.

"So, late tonight?" I questioned.

"I've only known you for two weeks, sweetheart," he said.

"Two weeks is too early for sexxing?" I asked.

"Can we sit?" He asked as he panted slightly.

I smiled, dropping down and giggling when I bounced slightly.

"When do we start sexxing?" I asked. "Is that only a boyfriend thing?"

"As long as you're calling it sexxing then it's too early," he said. "And yes, it's only a boyfriend thing."

"So can't do sexxing with other boys?" I asked.

"Okay, first of all stop calling it sexxing because that makes it sound so weird," Frank said. "You say having sex, not sexxing."

"Does everyone having sex?" I asked.

Frank buried his face into his hands as he groaned quietly. I thought he was mad but then he looked up at me with a smile.

"Just come here and kiss me, baby," he said.

I smiled and straddled his hips, pressing my lips against his. Frank smiled into it and it made me happy. I held onto his shoulders as I kissed him, my lips parted as his tongue came into my mouth.

"I like you," I said.

"Good, I like you too," he said.

"Can you play with your guitar and your magic box again?" I asked.

"By magic box do you mean my amp?" He asked.

I nodded quickly and he smiled. Frank got up and I hurried to sit on his desk while he grabbed his guitar and sat at his desk chair, plugging it into the box. He started playing again and I watched his fingers in amazement.

"Is this something that I have to go to a special school for too?" I asked.

"No, course not," frank denied. "Come here, I'll show you."

He moved the guitar and I sat on his lap so my back was pressed against his front. He put the guitar on my lap and I put my hands where his had been. After that, I had no clue what to do.

"Here's your guitar pick," Frank said, putting something into my right hand.

I looked down at the triangle thing in my hand. He started moving my fingers on my left hand, pressing them onto the strings.

"That's a G chord," he said.

"like me!" I exclaimed. "I'm Gee!"

Frank laughed. "That's right, baby, now strum it."

I ran the pick over the strings slowly, just like I had seen Frank do. I grinned when I heard the sound.

"Music!" I cheered.

"That's right, sweetheart," he said, kissing the back of his neck.

I strummed it again and giggled.

"Now the A chord," he said.

Frank moved my fingers again over the strings. I played the chord and he smiled.

"Good boy," he praised, kissing my cheek.

"Is that a song?" I asked.

"Not quite, there's just a bit more you need to add to make it a song," Frank said.

I looked over at him.

"How much more?" I asked.

"A lot," he replied.

"Oh," I pouted quietly.

He gave me a kiss and I smiled.

"But just practice and you'll do better," he said. "Then a song won't be so hard."

"I like hearing you play more," I said.

I moved my arms away and he wrapped his around me, his hands on the guitar. He played slowly and I smiled, leaning back against his chest. I closed my eyes as he played and I've never felt more at home.