My Life As Sienna Brown
Part 18
Anna's POV
It was very dark out. I could hear owls and crickets start to harmonize with the night sounds, telling no lies that now was not time to wake up unless you were a deceased creature of the night, coming to feast on the flesh of the living... how original. The moon was shining from outside my bedroom window and I pulled the blinds closed tightly. I hadn't known why I had woken up, but I felt cold and shivery, I pulled a blanket around my shoulders and tip-toed down the stairs, knowing the guys were here again tonight. They were here every time my mother was out of town. They weren't leaving until she came home and started yelling. The hallway was eerie and silent except for the small creaks the stairs made when I stepped in certain spots. I was happy now... that at least I could think straight, not just be mad at Heather.
When I came to the bottom of the stairs I turned on the stove light, which was the dimmest light in the kitchen. "Ah," I screamed and jumped back, grasping onto the oven handles.
"Sorry, I'm fricking hungry- I haven’t eaten in like.... twenty-four hours," Frankie said from a stool by the counter, stuffing his mouth with chips.
"Okay... you just scared me. I'm okay... and I get that you're hungry and all... but why chips," I asked.
He shrugged, "I don’t know... sudden craving," he smiled widely, revealing the partially chewed chips.
"Ew, Frank, close your mouth." I ordered, grabbing the milk from the fridge, then sitting across from him with a box of cookies.
"Sorry, I just said I haven’t eaten all day, this is what the result is! Do you understand how hungry I am?"
I nodded, "Okay, okay, I get it," and I pulled out the first cookie, dipping it in the milk before nibbling on it in small bites.
"So... what'd Heather say about me," he asked hopefully, starting small talk. I shook my head.
"Not telling you."
"Please," he begged. I shook my head once more.
I wouldn't tell him... ever! Or at least not until he decided to make the first move, I knew he was hiding something too, I could tell by the unnatural twitch in his left fingers and how he never looked right at you when he was talking. Maybe he knew something I didn't.
He kept pleading until I finally spoke up, "Why should I tell you anything, when you won't tell me what you're hiding."
He looked up from the chips, past my head at the stove. "What do you mean, I'm not hiding anything," he remarked and quickly turned his glance to the doorway, then back down at his chips.
"Sure you aren't," I rolled my eyes sarcastically. "I can tell Frankie, you're twitching and your eyes are doing that weird thing."
He dropped the chips in his hand back in the bag. "Oh," he looked down at the table.
"So..." I edged on.
He turned slightly pink. I'm sure what he has to say isn't that embarrassing. "I... I... I can't tell you," he stuttered.
"Why not?" I asked, feeling hurt that my best friend was keeping secrets from me. I wish I couldn't tell when people were keeping things from me... then maybe I'd be happier.
I looked down at the table and heard Frank come around beside me. "Sienna, common- it's not like it's a bad secret... it's just... I don’t know, a stupid secret."
I dropped my shoulders, "I'll bet you mine is worse."
I felt his hand rest on my shoulder. "It can't be... trust me. Just tell me."
It'll ruin everything. "You tell me yours first," I pleaded.
"Common, please? Just say it. I swear on... your life that I'll tell you mine after."
I shook my head. I can't, I can't, I can't... what if... oh my god- what if he hates me after? Then I'll me an eighty-year old cat lady! No. "Frankie, please don't make me," I pleaded, again.
"Fine," he whispered quietly, making sure no sounds echoed through the house. "If I tell you mine first, will you tell me yours?"
Shivers ran down my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, noticing there was a presence past the border of my personal space.
"Frankie, let's just deal with this in the morning," I said, rubbing the side of my head, and then leaving him in the kitchen all alone. Before I traveled up the stairs, I caught a glimpse of him. He sat in the chair I was in, then put his head in his hands... something was obviously bothering him... too bad he wasn't telling me. Now I felt bad. Like it was my fault he was feeling this odd and unknown grief.
I crawled back in bed and pulled the covers up to my chin, hugging tightly onto the pillow.
It was very dark out. I could hear owls and crickets start to harmonize with the night sounds, telling no lies that now was not time to wake up unless you were a deceased creature of the night, coming to feast on the flesh of the living... how original. The moon was shining from outside my bedroom window and I pulled the blinds closed tightly. I hadn't known why I had woken up, but I felt cold and shivery, I pulled a blanket around my shoulders and tip-toed down the stairs, knowing the guys were here again tonight. They were here every time my mother was out of town. They weren't leaving until she came home and started yelling. The hallway was eerie and silent except for the small creaks the stairs made when I stepped in certain spots. I was happy now... that at least I could think straight, not just be mad at Heather.
When I came to the bottom of the stairs I turned on the stove light, which was the dimmest light in the kitchen. "Ah," I screamed and jumped back, grasping onto the oven handles.
"Sorry, I'm fricking hungry- I haven’t eaten in like.... twenty-four hours," Frankie said from a stool by the counter, stuffing his mouth with chips.
"Okay... you just scared me. I'm okay... and I get that you're hungry and all... but why chips," I asked.
He shrugged, "I don’t know... sudden craving," he smiled widely, revealing the partially chewed chips.
"Ew, Frank, close your mouth." I ordered, grabbing the milk from the fridge, then sitting across from him with a box of cookies.
"Sorry, I just said I haven’t eaten all day, this is what the result is! Do you understand how hungry I am?"
I nodded, "Okay, okay, I get it," and I pulled out the first cookie, dipping it in the milk before nibbling on it in small bites.
"So... what'd Heather say about me," he asked hopefully, starting small talk. I shook my head.
"Not telling you."
"Please," he begged. I shook my head once more.
I wouldn't tell him... ever! Or at least not until he decided to make the first move, I knew he was hiding something too, I could tell by the unnatural twitch in his left fingers and how he never looked right at you when he was talking. Maybe he knew something I didn't.
He kept pleading until I finally spoke up, "Why should I tell you anything, when you won't tell me what you're hiding."
He looked up from the chips, past my head at the stove. "What do you mean, I'm not hiding anything," he remarked and quickly turned his glance to the doorway, then back down at his chips.
"Sure you aren't," I rolled my eyes sarcastically. "I can tell Frankie, you're twitching and your eyes are doing that weird thing."
He dropped the chips in his hand back in the bag. "Oh," he looked down at the table.
"So..." I edged on.
He turned slightly pink. I'm sure what he has to say isn't that embarrassing. "I... I... I can't tell you," he stuttered.
"Why not?" I asked, feeling hurt that my best friend was keeping secrets from me. I wish I couldn't tell when people were keeping things from me... then maybe I'd be happier.
I looked down at the table and heard Frank come around beside me. "Sienna, common- it's not like it's a bad secret... it's just... I don’t know, a stupid secret."
I dropped my shoulders, "I'll bet you mine is worse."
I felt his hand rest on my shoulder. "It can't be... trust me. Just tell me."
It'll ruin everything. "You tell me yours first," I pleaded.
"Common, please? Just say it. I swear on... your life that I'll tell you mine after."
I shook my head. I can't, I can't, I can't... what if... oh my god- what if he hates me after? Then I'll me an eighty-year old cat lady! No. "Frankie, please don't make me," I pleaded, again.
"Fine," he whispered quietly, making sure no sounds echoed through the house. "If I tell you mine first, will you tell me yours?"
Shivers ran down my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, noticing there was a presence past the border of my personal space.
"Frankie, let's just deal with this in the morning," I said, rubbing the side of my head, and then leaving him in the kitchen all alone. Before I traveled up the stairs, I caught a glimpse of him. He sat in the chair I was in, then put his head in his hands... something was obviously bothering him... too bad he wasn't telling me. Now I felt bad. Like it was my fault he was feeling this odd and unknown grief.
I crawled back in bed and pulled the covers up to my chin, hugging tightly onto the pillow.