A Route to Follow

-Pippa’s P.O.V.-

I was rooming with Peace, which suited me just fine, because Bob and I didn’t really talk that much and Frank… Well Frank and I were still on low-tolerance levels with each other, ever since he cheated on Peace and all. I mean, okay, it was almost two and a half years ago then, but cheating is something I take pretty hard on. Even if it’s not involving me.

We were pretty good friends though, Frank and I, but if we got an argument – a serious one – all hell would break loose, and you didn’t want that happening.

We were midst unpacking when Peace slumped on the edge of the double bed, a framed photograph in her hands.

I sat down next to her, watching as her fingers traced two of the faces. It was a picture of the group of us, taken the summer before, a few months before Peace and Frank broke up. We were all in the park, after a lazy day in Chicago, the day after Bob’s aunt’s 50th birthday.

“Do you miss him?” I asked, indicating on her and Frank, hugging and smiling to the camera. What I really meant was if she missed being with him, ‘cause although their past, they saw each other practically every day.

She sighed a little and gave a small shrug. “I don’t know,” she said, looking into my eyes. “I mean, yeah, we have great memories but it wouldn’t work out in the long run; we both agreed to that. And we’re still friends, so… It’s not like I’ve lost him completely, right?” She smiled. It was sincere, but sad, and I knew almost exactly what she was thinking of. I knew that she was imagining a future where she was actually together with Frank.

I smiled back and pulled her into a hug. “Nope, you haven’t,” I agreed, kissing her cheek before standing up. “Which is good, ‘cause I don’t like when you go moping around all the time.” I winked at her and she gave me a small smile. “Now, we should continue to unpack, yeah?” I asked, she nodded in reply, placing the photo on the nightstand on her side of the bed.

Much like Amy had said, it was very gothic, the whole mansion – which I’d rather call castle, or at least small castle, because it’s fucking huge. Possibly the biggest house I’ve ever been to. Well, with the exception of Warwick Castle when I was, like, five. Though that’s more of a museum, and not really lived in – not these days at least – so I hardly think it counts. Point still stands, however; it’s massive.

“Speaking of Frank, though; how long do you reckon Bob will manage before he flips out and eats his own head?” I asked with a laugh. Luckily, Peace knew me well enough not to stare at me strangely for my choice of words.

“Oh, that probably won’t be that long,” she giggled. “But I guess it all depends on Frank’s sugar intake, though, don’t you think?”

“Agreed,” I said with a nod. “I bet it only takes four days though!”

“Bet you Bob can do longer than that. Ten bucks?” she asked, offering me her hand. “And no cheating,” she said, giving me a pointed look as she retreated when I tried to take it.

I nodded. “Game on.”