“Francine,” I greet, all polite and prim.
“Fucker,” she returns sweetly.
Ah. Still upset.
Love that for us.
“All this swearin’ in the house of the Lord,” I say, hands clasped dramatically. “So uncouth. Jesus is not pleased, bruv.”
“I don’t know another way to greet you,” she shrugs. “I’m sure the Lord’ll understand as He sees my struggle, Amen?”
She raises her hands as if to give him thanks, and I fight a laugh.
This girl is a character.
“So the act continues, then?”
She blinks. “Act?”
“You pretending you don’t remember me.”
She groans loud enough to turn a few heads. “Fuckin’ hell blud. You act like me not knowing you is gonna kill you.”
“Again with the swearing ” I check to see if anyone’s heard. “It won’t, but your attitude is actually getting to me.”
“Oh please.” She rolls her eyes so hard they turn white. “You disrespected me and my career yesterday. How else am I supposed to address you? I thought fucker was polite enough.”
“I disrespected you?” I gasp—actually gasp. “You called me a dancer. A dancer, Frankie. And you looked at me like I’m nothing.”
She shrugs. “Are you nothing?”
“No!”
“Then get over it!”
More heads turn, this time Mum and Za join the onlookers. A tight-lipped ‘Stop’ from Mum makes me step closer to avoid any more outbursts.
“I might,” I mutter as I close our gap, “if you say you remember me.”
She stares at me like she’s diagnosing a mental illness. “Now you’re Taylor Swift?”
“My God,” I rub my forehead before I embarrass myself.
“What is this, a breakup album?”
“This conversation is going nowhere, so I’m gonna stop before I get heated.”
She tilts her head, lips twitching like she’s trying not to laugh. Then—by miracle of miracles—her shoulders drop, and she softens.
“Thanks for covering for us, though,” she says. “Zaza hates arguing with your mum. Throws her whole spirit off.”
I relax a bit. “Of course. It’s no problem. I know how she can be.”
She nods, fiddling with the frill on her dress while I look out into the crowd, pretending to be casual. Inside, I’m panicking.
I’ve spoken to girls my whole life, easy. Smooth. No problem.
But Frankie’s different. She intimidates me in a way I can’t comprehend. For one, she’s not friendly, or particularly pleasant to be around.
