Chapter 23 You and Me
you and me
DAPHNE
EMERALD BAY HIGH
I can hear the music all the way from the parking lot.
All or Nothing by O-Town.
That used to be our song, Cole and me… now it just makes me want to puke.
I sigh, kicking off my kitten heels and laying back onto the hood of Frankie’s mom’s Volkswagon. Having to watch Cole play the school hero is a brand of humiliation I’m glad I’ll never have to experience again.
“Hey, there you are.”
Frankie strolls toward me, looking surprisingly fine in his jet black tux, and holding an unlit joint.
“What’s that, young man? You’re peddling illicit substances now?”
He gives me a half-smirk, adding a little swagger to his step.
“Mason Fielder left it on the bathroom counter, and that asshole’s got a football scholarship on the line. Imagine if Principal Watson found this? It would ruin his career.”
“So what you’re saying is you’re doing him a favor. He should be thanking you.”
He hops back onto the hood next to me, pulling a lighter out of his pocket with a little flourish.
“He left that, too?”
“Yep.” He sparks the joint and takes a big drag before passing it to me. “My first heist turned out so well, I’ve decided I’m gonna skip college and embark on a life of crime. If Tony Soprano can do it, so can I.”
“I think I need to talk to your mom about your HBO access.”
I know exactly why he’s doing this: he’s watched me mope the entire night and now he’s trying to make things better. Thing is, it actually wasn’t so bad at the start. Hanging out with Frankie made seeing Cole barely sting at all.
And then they announced the Prom King and Queen, and all my insecurities came flooding back.
“How are you feeling?”
“I don’t know. How would you feel in my shoes?”
“Shitty,” he replies flatly. “Cole doesn’t deserve you, by the way.”
He’s been so sweet tonight, getting me punch, dragging me onto the dance floor, and making absolutely sure I didn’t miss Principal Watson’s atrocious dance moves. I wouldn’t have made it through the night without him.
“I’m starting to feel the same way.” I sigh, taking another puff of the joint. “He doesn’t matter. Fuck, none of this matters. I’m gonna leave this town in the dust.”
My parents want me to go to college, but that’s not the plan. The plan is to get a job working at my grandpa’s bar so that I can save up enough money to get the hell out of Emerald Bay, maybe even forever. Who knows, maybe I could take Frankie with me too.
“You’ve got it all figured out, huh?”
He’s got a playful little smirk, but there’s a sadness lingering behind his eyes. I know he wishes things were different, but he has a tendency to hold onto things as tightly as he can.
“Just a little bit.” I give him a gentle shove. “When I make it, I’ll fly you out for the weekends.”
But I know what he’s thinking.
He won’t leave his mom.
The two of us sit in silence for a while, passing the joint back and forth as the music in the gym continues to leak out into the parking lot. In the end it seems like a couple minutes of silence is as much as Frankie can take.
“You know those aptitude tests we had to take for our Career and Personal Planning class?”
“You mean the class where we all do our homework instead?”
“Some of us already have our shit together.”
“Hey! I’m doing a lot of catch-up classes, okay? Cut me some slack!”
He rolls his eyes. I’m not exactly what you would call a model student; I spend more time scrawling down song lyrics than solving math problems, and Frankie’s been my tutor for most of high school, so he knows that better than anymore.
But what’s the point of focusing on 12th grade math when none of it will even matter?
I already have the name of my debut album burnt into my brain:
Confessions of a Heartbreak Queen.
“Anyway,” he sighs. “I finally took mine.”
“Okay, so what’s your future look like?”
The aptitude tests were take-home, because our teacher said she wanted us to think long and hard about our answers, but it did mean a lot of kids just kept putting them off. I’m not even sure where mine is right now.
“It told me I should be a doctor,” Frankie chuckles.
“That makes sense. You take care of people, Goldilocks.”
“Can’t escape destiny, I guess.”
He’s up at 4:30 every morning making sure his mom is prepped for when the nurse arrives, just before he sets off for school.
Then he’s on the phone with her for most of lunch, checking in, and on the whole just keeping her company.
At 3:00, he either hits up the pharmacy or the grocery store, depending on whether or not it’s a high needs kind of day.
“I guess not.”
Really, I’d expect nothing less.
I take another drag as the distant music shifts awkwardly from one song to the next:
You and Me by Lifehouse.
“I like this song better when you sing it,” Frankie murmurs.
“You think so?”
I played it at open mic night last Friday with grandpa. I spent a week rifling through the Ultimate Guitar Tabs website until I found the right one. And then another week figuring out how to play it.
“Definitely.”
I grin, sliding off the hood of the car and turning to him. I don’t know why, but suddenly all I can think is that tonight should be fun; it should be about celebrating surviving the hell that is high school, not moping about would’s or could’s.
“Let’s dance.”
He raises a brow, coughing midway through his final drag.
“Dance?”
The smoke weaves around his head like little silver ribbons, and in this light, he kind of reminds me of James Dean.
The slicked back hair, the little curl that dangles in front of his forehead…
He started slicking his hair back after we watched The Outsiders in English class, and hasn’t stopped since.
Really though, it’s the cheekbones.
“You heard me! Come on, no moping!”
“You were the mopey one!” Frankie exclaims, sliding off the hood. “I’ve been trying to cheer you up all night!”
“Well you succeeded, I’m not gonna be a huge bummer anymore! So just… dance with me.”
Frankie looks a little tentative, but I take a step toward him, taking his hands and placing them on my waist.
“Come on, it’s not like I’m gonna bite you,” I laugh.
His grip gets a little more confident, a tingle rushing down my spine as his hand glides up my waist.
“That’s a total lie,” he chuckles, his cheeks dusting bright pink. “You bit me last week.”
“You took my sushi roll!”
“I was hungry!”
The two of us giggle, and Frankie gives me a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m sorry I was a bummer,” I mumble, looking down at the pavement.
“No sorries allowed. That guy was a dick, and you have every right to be pissed.”
“I think this night turned out pretty good, though, all things considered.”
He holds me tight as I wrap my arms around his neck, and bury my head in his chest.
And we finally start to sway to our already-fading song.