Frankie

Jordan Staal held his girlfriend close as she stared at the ceiling in silence. She finally stopped sobbing ten minutes ago, but he knew that she was silently crying. It killed him to see a normally happy Frankie reduced to crying.

He didn't know exactly what happened when Francesca entered the police station, but he had an idea that it involved words being exchanged between her and her brother. Jordan wanted to know what happened, but he knew that he was in no position to ask and decided to wait until she was willing to tell him.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly and kissed her head. Francesca had been lying down on Jordan's lap in his couch since they had arrived an hour ago.

She slowly nodded and hiccupped. Francesca got up and faced Jordan, her eyes were red and her cheeks were blotched with tears. "Sorry, you had to see me like this."

Jordan shook his head. "I'm glad that I'm here for you."

"I guess you should know what happened."

"You don't have to, if you don't want to," he said. As much as he wanted to know, he didn't want her to feel like she needed to give him an explanation.

Francesca shook her head. "You should know," she reasoned and sighed. "My dad and my brother, their relationship hadn't always been the best. Dad played college football when he was younger, but wasn't good enough to make pro. Drew was a different case; he had all the promise and skills to be the best. Everyone knew that, especially dad, so he pushed Drew into everything. Pewee, juniors, high school football, everything. Drew loved football, but dad just kept on pushing him.

"Eventually, Drew got a full ride to Notre Dame, of course he took it. Dad wanted him to go to Florida State, you know, the whole legacy thing. Being alone without Dad constantly on his back, Drew got involved with the wrong kinds of friends, lost his ambition to go pro and started spending his days drinking and partying. One night, Drew was completely wasted, decided to be stupid and drive home drunk," she explained, her voice starting to quiver.

Jordan's breath hitched, he knew that her story was only going to turn worse from here. He took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly; he encouraged her to go on.

"Two hours later, Mom gets a phone call from Mercy Memorial Hospital saying that Drew had been admitted, after finding his car turned over on a ditch in the freeway. His Escalade was completely wrecked, two broken ribs, a broken arm and his leg broken in three places," Frankie said robotically as if she was recalling what had happened.

"Where do you fit in this?" he asked curiously.

"I was in the car when Drew got into that accident," Frankie paused to look at Jordan's reaction, he looked solemn. "Or at least I was in the car for half the accident. When the car flipped over the second time, I was thrown out of it through the open window."

"Drew come on!" sixteen year old Francesca Ryan urged her brother from the party her brought her too.

Francesca had been staying with her brother over her spring break because she wanted a feel for Notre Dame as she had plans on attending university there. As much as she loved her family, she too couldn’t stand playing the role of trophy daughter of Mayor Ryan. She wanted to be left alone, to stay in her dorm and study her nights away instead of obligations that her father promised people.

Her father wasn't a bad person he was a good man that loved his wife and children, but he didn’t know how to express his feelings. He was always strict and wanted everything to be pristine, for everyone to follow exactly his rules and instructions. Frankie always wondered how someone as sweet and loving as her mother ended up married to her father who was so cold and calculating.

Drew slapped his sister's hand away from his arm and groaned. "You're such a joy kill. Whatever, let's go," he said in an annoyed tone and said goodbye to his friends.

"Are you drunk?" Frankie asked her brother. "Maybe, I should drive?"

"Yeah right, you're going to kill us, don't even have your driver's permit," he scoffed and clumsily got into his Escalade.

"Please, can you just let me drive? You're drunk," Frankie begged Drew again.

"No! No one is driving my baby but me," he replied stubbornly and started the car.

The ride was silent. Francesca didn't even know how Drew managed to drag her to the party anyways. She guessed because it was either she ended up stuck wit Drew's weed smoking roommate or go to the party where she could stay in the car or a corner and read.

"Drew, why are you like this?" Francesca asked her older brother.

Drew was never the ways he was in high school. He was always that amazing and loving brother that took the time for Francesca. He paid attention her and would go to the ends of the world for whatever she needed. He hardly partied and just hung out with his friends.

Now, Francesca barely knew him. He partied a lot, hated coming home for breaks and Christmas, and was never there for Francesca. She hated the new Drew, and she partly blamed her father for pushing Drew into the person he was now.

Grunting, Drew looked at his sister in annoyance. "Why don't you just leave me alone?"

"Drew, look out!" Francesca screamed.

Quickly, Drew snapped his eyes back on the road, but it was too late, the car was about to hit the ramp. Trying to avoid it, Drew made a sharp turn, the left wheel of the car it the ramp, tipping the SUV over.

The car turned over, Frankie's eyes widened; she let out a piercing scream in the silent night when her arm got caught under the outside of the car door when it flipped over. She closed her eyes when her head hit the grass hard, hoping that she was just dreaming.

It rolled a second time, this time down the small hill. Francesca was thrown out of the open window on the passenger seat and into the grass. Her body was thrown out as if she weighed nothing and coughed out blood.

She watched in horror as the car kept on rolling down the hill, Drew was still in the car. She closed her eyes; her body felt like it was on fire. Like it was being crushed, she knew that her arm wasn't the only thing that was broken.

"Drew!" she yelled, her voice hoarse.

It was quiet. There was no response from her brother. Francesca could see the bottom of the car face up. Francesca's blood ran cold.

Everything started to get blurry. Her head started to hurt more than it should. Her eyes started to feel heavy, she couldn't see or hear anything and soon everything went black.

"I was in a comma for three days. When I woke up, have little control over my arms and legs. A broken arm, punctured lung, four broken ribs and a concussion, but that wasn't the worse of it. I spent six months in rehab relearning to walk, to heat, to pretty much doing anything with the movement of my body. They said that my brain and spinal cord disconnected or something like that."

For a moment, Jordan's heart stopped. He never knew that Frankie went through so much and overcame just as much. The more he learned about her, the more he grew to admire the girl in front of him.

At first, he thought that she was just this meek little girl that had no sex appeal to her at all. She was just the awkward and smart friend of Gwen. But then when he got to know her more, he found her to be charming, sweet and beautiful in her own way.

Hearing about what had happened to her; Jordan wrapped her into a tight hug. He wanted to take her pain away, to make sure all she felt was happiness.