Goody, Like Two Shoes

There are police in my kitchen.

Well that's what I thought when I woke up to hear some goddamn loud, siren-like noise; and five minutes later Frank poked his head around the door, grimacing.

"The smoke alarm woke you up?" he questioned, opening the door fully and then propping himself up against the frame; looking partially like a model.

I grabbed my glasses off the bedside table and began inspecting his face to see if he'd singed his eyebrows off, "Please don't tell me you burnt the kitchen down..."

"Nu-uh, but I did make you breakfast: pancakes - that are burnt -, toast - also burnt - and orange juice - half of which I spilt on the floor. I also took the liberty of taking a shower and using most of your Body Shop shower gel and shampoo; it smelt nice. Do you want to sniff me, or something? I smell like a princess."

"I'll pass on that, thanks."

Is this what it feels like to be married? Sharing a bed with a man, him making you breakfast, burning the breakfast, then he uses all of your shower gel and asks if you want to smell him - or acts of that sort.

"So, are you going to get up and eat the scrumdiddlyumptious breakfast I made for you?" Frank smiled.

"Sure." I smiled back, "So, why did you make breakfast for me?"

"I wanted to make you feel special; because your mother obviously doesn't."

"Have we skipped ten years, and you're now my husband, or something really insane like that?"

"Baby," he sidled up to the side of the bed and playfully nuzzled his nose against mine, "We're mere fuck-buddies."

"You're sick, do you know that?"

"Oh, sugarplum, I know...'"

"Stop using those corny pet names, will you?"

"Sorry, sorry. Anyway, come downstairs, I want to tell you what I've got planned for the day."

"Frank, since when have we had a schedule? It's usually school, come here, have food, go home."

"Ah-ha, but see, you have created a genius, and I have this really good plan to piss your parents off, to no end."

"Does it involve me getting pregnant and not knowing who the father is?"

Frank shook his head and pranced down the stairs, "So much more ingenious than that, Sash."

I followed him into the kitchen, the smell of smoke filling my nose, and sat down opposite him at the table, "So tell me this fabulous plan of yours, Einstein."

He watched me picking at the blackened pancakes, amused, "We're going out."

"But we really should be in school."

"Doll, I could care less." Frank shook his head, "So eat up, okay? We've got a long day ahead of us. The only thing that's going to stop me is if you tell me your head hurts. And I know for a fact that it doesn't; since you've been taking your tablets."

Bluuh.

An hour later, we arrived outside a little bungalow on the outskirts of Belleville.

"This," Frank made a motion with his hand, "is chateau Iero."

"Your dad's house?"

"Grandpa's."

"What are we doing here?" I tilted my head to the side.

Frank beckoned me over to him, opening the garage door, "We, my friend, are going to borrow that."

"That" just happened to be a motorcycle.

"Frank. No. Way."

"Live a little, sweetcheeks, you'll be just fine."

"But can you even -- you know -- drive it?"

"My uncle's been teaching me since I was fourteen; he won't mind if we borrow it."

I knew that there was no way I was getting out of this.

"Fine." I huffed, "Give me a freakin' helmet, but I hate you right now."

Frank tossed one my way, I slid it onto my head, and then he buckled it up for me.

"Goofball." he teased, brushing some hair out of my eyes, "Hop on."

"Help me."

So Frank practically picked me up and sat me on the bike, then he put his own helmet on, "Hold onto me. Tight."

He started the bike and revved it up, giving me a damn heart attack in the process, and I grabbed his waist, praying to any type of god that we wouldn't crash.

"Ever been here before?" Frank asked, throwing himself off the motorbike, onto the cement, and pulling this helmet off.

I didn't answer; I felt too nauseous and my ears had just popped.

"Sash, hey, come on. You're not gonna barf on me, are you?"

I whined, "I. Hate. You."

Frank grabbed my hands and helped me off the bike, "No you don't. I'll make it up to you."
He put the helmets in the little compartment under the seat, made sure that the lock was on, and then linked his fingers through mine, "So, you've never been here before?"

I looked at the large building ahead of us, the biggest mall in Newark.

I shook my head, "Nope."

"Okay. So, first off, we'll get some ice-cream and then we'll go shopping."

"But I didn't bring any money --"

"My treat."

"But you're always complaining that you have no money --"'

"Shut up, Sashie, I'm doing this to help you out." Frank snapped, but apologised by squeezing my hand gently and leaning his head on my shoulder as we walked.

"What are you doing to help me out, Frankie?"

He smiled at me, winking, "You'll see."

We entered the mall in silence, and I was astounded at how many people were there.
I was sure that - in my whole life up to that point - I'd never been around that many people. Ever.

"C'mon, let's get some ice-cream." Frank grinned; and that's exactly what we did.

We scooted across the turquoise and white striped seat, huddling in the corner, slapping each other's hands away from red, glass bowl that was on the pink table in front of us.

"Why didn't you ask for twospoons, you imbecile?" I grabbed Frank's hands, laughing, trying to pry the spoon from between his fingers.

"I thought that maybe..." he paused and glanced at the two teenagers at the opposite side of the room, and an evil grin worked over his lips, "...we could feed each other, like they're doing."

The mouthful of ice-cream, that I'd managed - barely - to get, was spat out due to my laughing, and Frank stared at me, wide-eyed, as the slimy substance landed on his cheek

Frank shuddered and grabbed the spoon from my hand, stealing some ice-cream and narrowing his eyes.

'You will pay, missy.' he mumbled through his mouthful of the creamy, blue, pink and brown goo.

"Really?" I giggled.

He nodded, leaned forward and licked my cheek, leaving the remnants of ice-cream on his tongue dripping down my face.

"You -- you evil toad!" I threw a pile of orange napkins at him.

"Ahahahaha, c'mere," he grabbed my arm and jerked me closer to him, wiping the mess with the napkins, then smiling, satisfied, and kissing my cheek gently.

"What was that for?" I asked, feeling my face burn up.

He shrugged, "I just felt like doing it."

We finished the ice-cream off without too much of a fuss, and we left the small ice-cream parlour, Frank instantly dragging me over to an escalators and running up it to the next floor.

"Now then, m'darling, pick anything." Frank said, leading me into a store filled with clothes; most of them black, with band names splattered over them.

"I don't wear clothes like this." I said, glaring in disgust at a black corset that had purple ribbons.

"Well, see, that's all part of the plan."

"Dressing me like a Satan worshipper is part of the plan?"

"No." Frank grinned.

"Well, Franklin, what is this ever-so-snazzy plan of yours?' I shoved him playfully.

"I, baby, am gonna turn you into a bad girl."