A Taste of Peppermint

“So, Randi, how do we know you’re not a psycho?” I asked in-between the bites of my hamburger, loving how such a casual sounding tone of voice can be oh so provoking.

“Ah, but you can’t,” she answered with a wry smile.

“Come on, Gee. She is my old friend’s kid sister. I’m sure of it,” Bob added to the conversation as if he wanted to smooth things over.

“That doesn’t mean she can’t be a weirdo.”

My friends just shrugged their shoulders and shook their heads at my comment but I could see that Randi girl gritting her teeth. It all made me smile.

Now that I think about it, it’s funny how something like that could make my day so much brighter. Yes, I am mean. Real nasty, I know you’re thinking it. It’s okay, I think so too.

“You’re really gonna make her hate you, you know,” Frank said in the passing as we were walking the streets of Hollywood. It was just him and I, Bob had headed home not too long after we left the hamburger restaurant and where Randi went I didn’t know and I didn’t care either.

“Her who?” I asked when I actually knew perfectly well who he was referring to. I just didn’t want to seem like I cared. And the reason why didn’t strike me until so much later.

“Randi of course, you dork!” my friend exclaimed with another shake of his head.

“No need to get upset,” I mumbled, and to my relief Frank just laughed.

“Seriously though, you don’t want her to hate you.”

“Why would it matter? Why do you even care so much?” I asked while trying my best not to get myself irritated over something as insignificant as the mere thought of having to behave around that girl. Call me insane but I thought she and I would get more out of a “friendship” where I would push her to her limits rather one where I would be sweet. To me it seemed like she wanted a challenge rather than another friend anyway.

I kicked a small stone that was in my way and watched it skip across the asphalt.

“Well, because she’s a friend of Bob?” Frank said with a roll of his eyes which I ignored completely.

“She is a friend of Bob, and?”

“Well, I just thought that if she was gonna hang around it would be kinda unnecessary for you to-“ Frank started but when he noticed that I was completely indifferent he fell silent. He stayed that way for a while as we continued walking, side by side, glancing at each other every now and then. Both waiting for the other to speak. Both refusing to be reasonable. Finally Frank gave up.

“You know, Gee,” he began and a smile started to take shape, “a stranger is a friend that you’ve never met.”

“Never heard of that.”

“Right.”

Frank gave me a sarcastic look but then he laughed again and I couldn’t help but laugh as well. He did get on my nerves from time to time, mainly because he liked to be annoying, but every once in a while because he was right about something. And I hate being wrong. I just hate it.
“So you never heard of that?” he asked after a while. There was an amused streak in his voice that made me cringe. I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“Never,” I said, avoiding eye contact.

“Have you heard: ‘Better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt’?” Frank then asked me with a twinkle in his eye.

“No, you’d do wise to live by that though. But I’ve heard that an empty vessel makes the most noise,” I replied as I kicked another stone.

“What about this one then: ‘Beauty is only skin deep, but ugliness goes straight to the bone’?” he asked, as if he hadn’t heard me.

“Are you suggesting something?”

“Are you accusing me of calling you ugly?” Frank immediately said, answering me with a question and an offended look on his face.

“Are you calling me ugly?”

“How am I supposed to know, I’m stupid, aren’t I?” Frank laughed.

I gave up. When he started he could go on for hours. And he always won. Always. And if there’s something I hate almost as much as being wrong it’s to lose.

Judging by his content smirk I’m pretty sure I already had lost. It took me a little while to get over it but soon we were talking about everything and nothing when a question suddenly jumped at me. I stopped dead in my tracks. Frank stopped shortly thereafter and turned to look at me.

“Frank,” I said biting my lip.

He nodded at me.

“Where’s my brother?”

“I left him at home. He said he wasn’t hungry,” my friend replied. “Why?”

“You left him on his own?” I asked while turning and walking quickly in the opposite direction. Frank soon caught up with me.

“Yeah, so? You left him too.”

“Well, let’s just hope he hasn’t hurt himself yet,” I muttered and quickened my pace.

Frank gave me a worried yet puzzled look but didn’t ask any questions. Myself I was just hoping that Mikey was okay. That boy should never be left alone.