Why does the air taste different when you're around?

Chpt. 2

Frankie did not have a funeral.

Though, to be fair, she also did not have a death. So why would she have a funeral?

Scarah and Holt had brought her 'death' to the entire school's attention. She had died at the time, technically, but her father had put her back together by the next day. Scarah and Holt were jumpy around her, the feeling that something was still wrong fading but not subsiding. The two of them would occasionally wrap Frankie in a hug silently, without saying a word.

The two banshees became friends after that. Or, well, maybe not friends but like allies or something along those lines. They shared looks when hanging around Frankie and from time to time they'd be a place of comfort for the other. After all, both were extremely clingy people and were just traumatized by what was meant to be a love confession.

Oh

Did I forget to mention that part?

-=-

"Did you like it?" Frankie asked excitedly as she returned to school finally, bouncing on the balls of her feet and rushing up to Holt.

Holt, who still couldn't get the taste of blood and pain out of his mouth, cringed slightly, "Like what..?" he asked carefully, not entirely certain what he should be liking.

Frankie frowned, as if it was meant to be obvious, "My confession? Yaknow, stringing my heart up in a tree?" she laughed like it wasn't a big deal, and Holt kinda. Blue screened at this information.

"Wh- you did that?!" he took a step back from Frankie, who simply looked hurt, "Frankie," Holt let out a painful laugh, "You just traumatized the entire student disembody!" the simulacrum's eyes widened.

"But I didn't die! Father put me right back together, everything's fine!" she argued as if that mattered when your classmate was strung up in a tree. All of her friends had spent the night crying before Frankie called them telling them she was alive.

"That isn't the point, Frankie!" Holt let out a heavy sigh, "Sorry," he mumbled, lowering his voice from the near-yelling that it had been at, "Me and Scarah knew you were going to die for a day before it happened, we nearly broke part of the school when we saw you,"

"I'm sorry... I thought it would be romantic," she shuffled slightly, looking down in shame.

"And I appreciate the thought, really," Holt ran a hand down his face, "But please, never string yourself up in a tree for the sake of romance again,"

Frankie lit up once more, "Okay! Sorry, again, I didn't realize. Can I guide you to class?" she held her elbow out, and Holt just chuckled faintly and interlocked his arm in hers.

Sometimes he wondered where the fuck she got the idea that stringing herself up in a tree would be romantic.

(Jackson, on the other hand, was delighted by this concept. He ended up talking with Frankie for what could've easily been hours about how she did it and where she got the concept, complimenting her on the whole idea. Though, he did tell her to maybe not do anything like that so publicly next time. And definitely don't show Holt because he was significantly less toward gory situations than Jackson.)