Frankly Frankie

Chapter Two

(If you are reading this I'd just like to say you're the best, and thank you! It really means a lot. Also I have decided that I will be updating this story every Wednesday religiously. So stay tuned for that!)

I absolutely love flying. Okay, yeah, it definitely does have some downs sides: There's always a baby crying, you're forced into mind numbingly boring small talk with the stranger next to you, and airline food sucks donkey balls. But still, there's nothing that tops the feeling I get when I look out the window and see the buildings below getting smaller and smaller. Then before I know it I'm soaring through the clouds launching forward faster than man should. It's like I'm defying the universe by defeating gravity, and it makes me feel simply … Unstoppable. 

So I guess you could imagine my disappointment when the flight attendant woke me up and told me that I had managed to sleep through the entire ride. I was in complete disbelief, because I didn't feel like I had been asleep that long. However, the drool stains on my complimentary pillow didn't lie. And apparently neither did the passenger next to me, a little old woman, who informed me that I snored very loudly.

Still a bit groggy, I made my way off the plane, which was easily my least favorite part about flying. As soon as your isle is dismissed everyone begins running around like a chicken with its head cut off. I never really got why this was. It's always like people are racing to see who can claim their property, get out of the airport, and back to their miserable lives first. I, on the other hand, liked to take my time finding my way out, collecting my luggage, and in this case making my way to the pick up area where I would search for the person searching for me.

Glancing around the seemingly endless waves of strangers I spotted my name printed largely on a white poster board, Francesca Carson. I rolled my eyes as I screamed internally before making my way to the man holding said sign.

He was pretty tall, if I had to guess I'd say a solid 6 foot 3 inches, with a long face and strong jawline. I assumed he was a teacher, mostly because he looked to be in his late twenties maybe early thirties… Also because I don't think that the school would send anyone other than a teacher to pick me up. In any case, he was no doubt the subject of many school girl fantasies, despite looking like a total dork-wad. 

I mean, don't get me wrong, under his short curly brown locks of hair were several handsome features. Such as almond shaped hazel eyes, a pointy nose, and a scruffy smile. His fashion sense however left a lot to be desired. He kind of dressed like a colorblind Justin Timberlake, but somehow he managed to make it work for him.

"Francesca Carson?" He questioned as I stopped in front of him, in a voice that matched him a little too perfectly.

"Actually it's just Frankie." I tried my best not to sound irritated as I corrected him, but sweet baby Jesus was it difficult. In an attempt to overcome the awkwardness that was building between us I extended my hand offering it to the stranger. "and you must be … ?"

"Oh! Yeah! Sorry, I'm Mr. Stoker, but most of my students just call me Freddie." He answered spastically, before accepting my hand, shaking it a few times, and then letting it go. "My car is just parked outside. Would you like me to carry your bags?" He asked genuinely, and so I handed the biggest one over as we began walking towards his car. 

Mr. Stoker was an absolute gentlemen who, after putting my luggage neatly in the trunk of his car, even opened the passenger side door for me. However, I couldn't shake away this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was off, but I did try my best to ignore it, chalking it up to being nervous about this whole transition.

"So are you excited about starting school at Maplewood Academy?" He asked conversationally after a few minutes of driving in silence. 

"Mmm, that isn't exactly the word I would use." I grumbled, dreading that this was just the first of many times that I would be asked variations of this question. "Can we not talk about this? I would rather go into the gory details of my first period than be asked that generic question."

My bluntness must have thrown him for a loop, because it took him a few moments to compile another sentences. "Okay, Ms. Hostility, what's up with your name, Frankie? I've never met a woman who went by that." He finally managed to say with a satisfied grin on his face. 

"What's up with the name Freddie Stoker?" I countered. "It kinda sounds like a porn-stars stage name. I mean, you do realize that both your first and last name are associated with classic horror movies, right? I just seems like the kind of thing someone might make up." Okay, I realize that I probably shouldn't have said that to a teacher, especially not one I'd only just met, but there was no going back now. God, I royally suck at first impressions.

"Oh my Ms. Carson…" Mr. Stoker began as I braced myself for a lecture, and for probably the first of many detention slips. However, to my surprise, neither of those things came. "… You have stumbled upon my secret life." He announced with a menacing expression that soon fell away, and in it's place was a large toothy smile and a squeaky laugh. "Haha, I'm totally kidding, but you do make a good point. My parent's have some explaining to do."

We then both broke apart into laughter so violent it caused a pain in my abdomen. Luckily the next hour or so followed this same formula of conversation. Freddie would ask a question, I'd say something snarky, he'd come up with a speedy rebuttal, and we'd both have a good laugh in the end. So by the time we had arrived at Maplewood Academy Mr. Stoker had me wondering why I had ever felt uneasy about him in the first place. 

Stepping out of the car I looked up at the school in amazement. As the Grandchild of a man who not only came from a wealthy family but also had a successful political career himself, I was use to living life in luxury… But this place made my home look like a one room shack. It's clusters of large brick buildings stood tall and majestic giving the place a castle like feeling, and for a second I wondered if I was about to attend Hogwarts. 

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly. 

"I know. Isn't it something?" Freddie questioned rhetorically as he exited the car and made his way to my side of the vehicle. "It's super easy to get lost at first so I'm going to escort you to the Headmasters office. He'll probably want to discuss school rules, classes, and such. After that a student guide will show you around."

"What about my stuff?" I asked. 

"I'll take it to your room, and it'll be there before you are." He spoke softly as he gazed down at me, a smile painting his features. I could feel my cheeks blush in embarrassment because I probably looked ridiculous gawking at the school like an idiot. However I returned his smile, and thanked him for taking care of my luggage.

Mr. Stoker wasn't lying when he said that it was easy to get lost inside the school. I could have sworn we were walking around in circles, because I was almost positive we had made are way down the same hallway three times. However I guess my mind was playing tricks on me because a few minutes later I was standing outside the Headmasters office.

"Okay, wish me luck." I said to Freddie, before pushing the door open and disappearing inside.