Frankly Frankie

Chapter One

"Francesca!" A nagging voice called out from the other side of my bedroom door stirring me from my short slumber, but I didn't answer. My brain found it impossible to put together a coherent sentence, or even shake away the haze sleep had left behind when it went. Still I tried, beneath a sea of pillows and blankets I stretched my limbs in different directions arching my back and releasing a large yawn as I did. It helped, but not much. I swear I could just lie there forever and merge with the mattress beneath me until we became one, but that wasn't in the cards this morning. Not with the voice calling my name again, this time much more impatiently.

"Francesca Ann Carson!" The voice, which I now recognized as my Grandmother, shouted once more before finally just waltzing into my cave. "Francesca get up." She demanded in a stern authoritative voice, but again I didn't answer. I never answered to Francesca, and she refused to call me by my nickname, Frankie. This has been an on going battle between us for as long as I can remember. I suspect that eventually one of us will given in, but I'm determined for it not to be me. 

"I know you hear me talking." She said firmly, before flicking on the light switch next to the doorway where she stood, and tapping her foot until I arose from my bed like a vampire from a coffin. 

"Ugh…" I moaned irritably as my eyes tried to blink away the clouds of sleepiness that still fogged my vision. 

"You look exhausted. What did I tell you, huh? I specifically instructed you to go to bed at a reasonable hour." She scolded me with crossed arms, and a defeated look on her face. "You know what, I don't care, it's you who's going to have a miserable trip. Speaking of which, you've got thirty minutes to get ready, and be downstairs. Your bags are already loaded in the car, and your Grandfather will be driving you to the airport." She announced before disappearing into the hallway.

It took me a few minutes to escape the comfort of my bed, but once I did I began to get ready as I was told to. The majority of my time was taken up by standing in the shower and letting the warm water run over my pale freckled skin. It felt refreshing but left me with little time to complete the rest of my morning routine. Quickly, I towel dried myself and put on the clothes I had set out last night: Black leggings, a large t-shirt with a cat face printed on the front, my army jacket, and converse. Then I made my way to the bathroom sink where I brushed my teeth and attempted to tame my hair.

The cotton candy pink tumbleweed that sat upon my head was a untamable beast no matter how long I had to work with it. I suppose this was mostly my fault. You can't exactly bleach, dye, and torture your hair and still expect it to feel like silk afterward. Defeated, I bound the shoulder length monster into a messy bun before turning my attention to my face. 

I'm not sure if I'm just being hopeful or not, but I flatter myself to think that I look like my mother. The same straight nose, round gray eyes, plump pink lips, and circular face. I believe that I could be a stunner if I didn't have these dark bags under my eyes… Damn it! My Grandmother was right, I did look exhausted, but there wasn't much I could do about it at the moment. Time was up.

"Frankie, it's time to go!" My Grandfather hollered, and reluctantly I made my way downstairs where I was given, quite possibly, the most awkward goodbye hug from my Grandmother. Luckily it was over as soon as it started, and I was able to make my escape into my Grandfathers sensible car.

We drove in silence for a while, but eventually Granddad just had to open his mouth and say something. I liked his lectures far less than I liked my Grandmothers, because at the end of hers I'm just left with anger or annoyance. However, at the end of his I'm filled with guilt. He usually didn't say much, but when he did his words were delivered with a charming sensibility that could convince anyone of anything. He could even convince my stubborn self that I was wrong. I guess that's why he makes such a good politician. 

"I know you went out last night." He started, glancing my way just in time to see my jaw drop. "Haha, don't worry I'm not going to tell your Grandma."

"Thanks, but how did you know?" I asked. 

"What would be the fun in telling you?" He smiled briefly before letting his face become serious once again. "The point is I always knew, and I've never cared much. You're seventeen, it's your job to break the rules every once in a while… But lately…" He trailed off as he tried to gather the right words. "Frankie, lately you've been getting out of hand, and we're concerned for you."

"We're?" I practically spat.

"Yes, we are, me and your Grandma. I hope you understand that we aren't sending you to boarding school because we don't care about you anymore. We're sending you there because we love you, and we have no idea how to help. I think this will be good for you. It's a nice school, far away from the temptation of New York City."

"So far that there's no way I could harm your political image, right?" I snarled.

"You know that's not what this is about… After your mother passed away I-" His voice began to waver.

"Can we not go there please? I'm sorry about my comment. I'm just a little tired and anxious. I know you love me." I smiled my gap tooth grin, although I still wasn't entirely convinced of his motives. "I love you too."

The remainder of the ride was quiet, thank God, and the only noise to be heard was the small hiss of the radio singing some over played pop song. I wasn't forced to sit threw it for to long, because surprisingly traffic wasn't bad and we actually managed to make it to the airport a bit early.

I assured my Grandfather that I was more than capable of checking my bags and boarding the plane all by myself, but he insisted on coming along, so I let him. I think it was hard for him to see me go, like it reminded him of when my mother left, and maybe he was scared that I'd never come back. 

This was an unreasonable fear. After all he was the one sending me away, but still there was a pain in my chest that caused me to put my hand in his like I did when I was young. I let it rest there until my flight was called to board, and I was forced to say goodbye.