Beneath The Waves

(14) For All Things Must Die

Chapter 14

“Wakey, wakey!”

A light clicked on, causing Frankie’s eyes to blink open groggily. Harsh white light flooded her vision, painfully stinging her eyes. She squeezed them shut again.

She heard Ryan groan softly at the other end of the couch, and sit up. “Whazzamatta...”

“You’re so lazy,” a bright voice scolded gently, and Frankie peeled her eyes open. Standing in front of a sleepy, tousle-haired Ryan was a girl with bright, coppery blonde hair, cut into a choppy bob that fringed her shoulders, the ends of which were dyed bright red. She was dressed in black, with a shiny black leather jacket and black DMs. She wasn’t beautiful, but she gave off a strong, confident aura, and her grin was bright and mischievous.

Ryan rubbed his eyes and stared dozily at the girl, who he clearly knew well. “What’re you doing here?”

“You’re late for band practice,” the girl informed him brightly.

Ryan blinked. “Really?”

“Aye.” She glanced at an imaginary watch on her wrist. “Right now, it’s ten. Guess what time we said to meet?”

Ryan just blinked at her, and she sighed, turning to Frankie.

“Guys are useless in the morning,” she commented. “Hi, stranger.”

“Hi to you too.” Frankie sat up and patted her hair self-consciously. She was aware of how tousled she looked in the morning – her usually crazy hair splayed out everywhere, her eyes went puffy with tiredness, and in this case, she was pretty sure they were ringed with smoky black like a racoon, due to the fact she’d forgotten to take off her mascara last night.

It suddenly started to sink in what had happened. She’d fallen asleep on Ryan’s couch and stayed the night – with no toothbrush, no change of clothes, not even a hairbrush. And she hadn’t even let her aunt know. She was going to be murdered.

“I’m Cassie,” the girl told her, sticking out a hand with bright red nails. “Who’re you?”

Frankie shook her hand, aware that the girl must be forming all sorts of opinions about her in her mind. “I’m Frankie. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Cassie dropped her hand and turned to face Ryan. “Figured out what time you were supposed to get up, Ainsley?”

He just blinked at her. “Why’re you here?”

“Your mum let me in.” She rolled her eyes and glanced at Frankie. “Ryan isn’t a morning person.”

“Who is?” Frankie said wryly. She started to slip out from under the light blanket that someone had draped over her in the night, and Tennyson bounded out too.

Cassie cooed in delight, dropping to her knees to greet him enthusiastically. “Aw, what a cutie!”

It surprised Frankie a little to see the tough, confident biker girl melt at the sight of a puppy, but she smiled. “That’s Tennyson. My dog.”

Cassie smiled up at her. “Tennyson, like the poet?”

“My favourite,” she agreed with a smile.

“You have the same conversation with everyone,” Ryan mumbled. He pushed himself to his feet, and Tennyson bounded over to his feet. “Hey, buddy.”

“You probably want breakfast,” Cassie said to Frankie, as if she lived in the house too. “Come on.” She marched off, and Frankie followed.

“You’re the lead singer in Ryan’s band, right?” Frankie checked, hurrying after her.