Issues [Frollie]

Chapter 16

Frankie had thought that was the low point. She had thought it couldn’t get worse, but the real clincher, the absolute worst memory to date, came very soon. In a fit of stupidity that rivalled every idiotic decision she had ever made, Frankie somehow decided that it would be a good idea to throw a party in their house before she had to face Mollie again, using faceless strangers as a shield against the truth she did not want to acknowledge. She called everyone before she even got home, giving them instructions on how to get in, so that when she finally made it to her own front door the building was flooded with alcohol, lights and a dance floor thick with moving bodies. She couldn’t make out a single person as she entered, and no one marked her presence there – just the way she wanted.

She found her way to the drinks easily enough, and again, her choice to literally drown her sorrows felt like a good one at the time. Soon, she was pleasantly unthinking and she found herself on the floor with a cup in hand and a pretty face in front of her as she danced to the loud beat. She was so warm and comfortable with the alcohol buzzing in her veins, and her vision was tilted. The lights sparkled in the corners of her eyes.

She had thought she was beyond hearing anything but the dubstep percussion blaring out of borrowed speakers, but when a terribly familiar, well-educated accent sounded over the music she heard it as clearly as she would have if Mollie were speaking into her ear.

“When did this start? Who called everyone over here?”

Frankie span unsteadily, seeking the source of the voice before her mind could consciously process the words being spoken. She nearly dislodged the girl beside her as she whirled yet she could barely bring herself to care. Through the crowd of gyrating dancers, she caught a glimpse of Mollie standing near the speakers, questioning the DJ Frankie had not noticed until then.

A second later, the DJ had noticed her right back. The man pointed straight at Frankie, directing her arm through the party and bringing her to Mollie’s attention. Frankie couldn’t hear what the man said, but she could guess.

“Frankie did. It was her idea.”

Frankie’s gut squirmed uncomfortably at first, but when Mollie’s eyes slowly moved to find her, the feeling changed. A low jolt hit her like a physical blow. Her blood leapt in her veins. Her hands tightened around the plastic cup she held, threatening to bend it out of shape, and it was very likely that she spilled some of the liquid out as she let her hand fall to the side. Mollie’s gaze became still and guarded as she met Frankie’s, yet the younger girl barely noticed. She didn’t see how wary her housemate looked; only how unbelievably good she looked. Her cheeks were pink from the cold outside, yet it only set off the tan of her skin.

In another show of bad judgement, Frankie drained the drink in her hand and let the cup fall before making her way forward. It was only as she passed out of the thicket of people that she finally saw who was standing beside Mollie. David was at her side, his hands clamped together as she looked around at the party raging around them. They both looked slightly out of place in the drunken soiree, but Frankie thought that was something else that was off, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. She didn’t much care, because Mollie was there.

She should have apologised to them both right then and there before turning the music off and announcing the party was over. She should have told Mollie she was sorry for how she’d been acting and that she never meant to do anything that would hurt her, that the party was a stupid way to distract her for how much of a dick she was being and that she would never do it again. She should have said what was on her mind – but her alcohol-infused body had different ideas.