Chapter 2: I Heart Frankie

I sat on the mauve sofa lounger as she sat opposite me on her bed.

Quickly, knowing that if I didn’t slip it in at that moment I probably wouldn’t have the courage to later, I asked “You alright?” It was a vague unassuming question, the kind that could be taken as a greeting or, in this case, as a genuine enquiry of a person’s wellbeing – be it emotional or physical.

Instantly shrugging it off, she replied “Fine”

It seems she was being just as vague, but I continued with my line of thought anyway, in the hope that she would open up a bit. “The guy…” I began to ask

“Just a jerk. They all are”

“What… Guys?”

“Yea… well no, not all guys… just… him, he’s a jerk.”

“Yeah, I gathered”

Already I could sense that the conversation was heading into a direction contrary to the one I thought she might need to talk about. But if that’s the way things are going, so be it, I thought. I wasn’t going to force it out of her – I could end up making her feel worse. Trouble was, at that moment, I couldn’t think of something else to talk about.

Fortunately, before I began to really struggle with my brain to conjure up a decent talking point, Frankie stepped in and killed the silence with “So… what’s the problem this time?”

“What do you mean?” I asked innocently

“Well you know the routine by now. You come in, talk about a crazy sexual encounter you have or are about to experience, and I dispense wise wisdom. So what is it this time? Peg-leg strikes again?”

Her friendly cynicism caused me to raise a smile, not just for the comment in of itself, but in admiration of her. No matter what kind of moron was thrown her way, usually the kind of jerk that would have to be dealt with diplomatically, she was still able to bounce back and retain her humour. It seemed that nothing could break her. With all the weirdoes that pay her a visit, she has to put up with a lot, the last thing she needed was dishonesty, I reasoned, especially from a friend which I consider mysel