To Be Frank

Check Your Six

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I find the second note in my locker.

Really? I groan internally. Someone must be having a lot of time on their hands.

On it was one lousy sentence about how Christian wasn't all he seemed to be and how he couldn't be trusted yada yada the implication was clear. Bootless fen-sucked scullion. Why couldn't she— or he— come up to my face instead?

Vexed, I crumple up the note and shove it deep into my jean pocket. Slamming the door to my locker shut, I head off for Connextion's first meeting and thanksgiving party that was happening on the lower floor.

"Welcome, welcome!" Peter greets me at the door and holds it open for me to enter.

"You're such a dork," I roll my eyes, but can't help smiling after a glance at his outfit..

"C'mon," he grins cockily and lifts his shoulders, "at least I'm an adorable dork."

He looks positively strapping in his thanksgiving "pioneer" outfit. A small plastic bowler hat is clipped to his hair, and he's wearing a pressed white shirt tucked into black shorts, complete with black suspenders. And crocs. He was wearing black crocs.

"Are those... turkey feathers?" I ask incredulously, gesturing at the feathers that stick out of his back pocket.

Peter pulls one out of his shorts and puts it to his lips as if shushing me. "They're Crystal's. Don't tell her I took 'em."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I assure him. "I make a great  innocent face. What feathers?"

"Excellent."

"Egg-cellent?" I correct.

"Come on in," he laughs and ruffles my hair, pushing me into the room. "If you're here, start working."

"Yoo-hoo! Long time no see!" a hearty voice from the back calls out to me, and I turn my head eagerly.

"Willow!" I rush over and bend down to wrap my arms around the elderly woman. "I've missed you so, so much! It's been too long."

She smells like croissants and raspberry, just like she always does. Willow is one of the more mentally stable and aware seniors at the home, and she just happens to always be there to listen whenever I have problems. She'd been physically healthy too, up until February of last year when she fell down the stairs, rendering both her legs weaker than before.

Willow reciprocates my embrace and rubs the small of my back gently. "I've missed you too, dear."

"You got a new wheelchair?" I ask, rubbing the shiny, black metal. "Looks good."

She smiles. "Avery decorated the back," she says, gesturing, and I notice the colorful paper cut outs stuck to the back of the seat.

"It's very nice," I say as I wheel her to a stop at the table. Connextions was hosting a thanksgiving arts-and-crafts feast. "So... what shall we make today?"

Willow pretends to think for a second, but I already know what she's going to say.

"Cats!"

I meow and cup my hands as 'cat ears' on the top of my head. "Sounds great to me-ow!"

Willow snorts. "Oh, how I've missed you and your stupid puns."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, now, would we?" Peter strides over. "How are you, Willow?"