Frequencies [UNDER HEAVY EDITING]

May 3rd

"I want to go to prom." I said lazily, leaning back in my seat. Glancing around the place caused a small smile.  We were in an old school restaurant based on America in the sixties. Pretty out of place in our British society but I loved the blue and red seats and the lavish burgers. Turning back to Mya and Luke, I found them both staring at me. "What?"

Luke frowned, raising his hand to ruffle his hair. "Just... prom Becky? You do realise that involves dresses and tuxedos and slow dancing, right?"

"That is what we're supposed to do." I shot back, crossing my arms and placed my feet on the table. "But when do we ever do what we're supposed to do?"

"True," Mya laughed, leaning foreward, "so what were you thinking?"

I smirked. "I suggest a start with spiking the drinks and replacing the band on stage.

Luke snorted. "Let me guess, with our band?"

"It's a start," I winked at a scrawny young boy in the corner of the shop. He cowered in his seat, eyes downcast and I smirked again. "Also, I was thinking of running track again."

Mya nodded but Luke's jaw dropped open. "You ran track?"

"I used to, yes." Nodding, I placed my hands on the table. "Still have the uniform and all but I stopped around the same time I stopped cheerleading. Things are better now and I always loved running track."

"Why don't you take up cheerleading again too?" Luke teased and I slammed my foot into his shin, making him wince.

"Shut up."

The waiter placed our burgers in front of us and for a minute we were all silent, munching away on our food. It was heavenly, the burger itself moist and right of flavour, not like the thin sheets at McDonald's that they dare to call meat, and the sauce a bit spicy. Suddenly, Luke snickered.

"What's so funny?"

The corners of his mouth curled up mischievously. "You in cheerleader clothes."

"You asshole!" I threw a chip at his head.

He ducked, stuck his tongue out and threw one back. I instantly glared and lobbed another to his face, landing mayonaise in his hair. He pouted and Mya laughed. "As funny as the look is, Luke is right Becca."

"You traitor!" I flung a chip at her too, managing to throw it down into her shirt. "Homerun!" I cheered. People were starting at us weirdly but the three of us just laughed.

My phone suddenly started ringing, the electric guitar so completely out of place in the restaurant. I frowned as I saw that the number was unknown but answered it anyway. "Rebecca Fray speaking."

"Miss Fray? My name is Dexter Abernathe."

I couldn't help but frown. "Alright, how can I help you?" I could see both Mya and Luke look at me curiously.

 "I'm your father's attorney. He requested me to ask you whether you and your sister and Sophine would be open to a meeting with him. He would like to express his apologies."

"He what?" I barely kept myself from screaming. "How dare he?"

Mr. Abernathe kept very calm. "We understand if you don't want to see him, Miss Fray. Why don't you just think about it, yes?"

"Alright," I couldn't help but spit it out like venom. "I won't promise anything."

"I'm not asking you to. Good evening Miss Fray." He hung up, voice nothing but polite. I stared into nothingness for a second, feeling dazed. My father wanted to apologise?