I don't care WHO you are, I'm NOT giving you MY spoons!
SLAP “Frankie!” Slap, “Frankie!” Slap, “Francesca Iero…wake up!” I blink and groan, damn, my head hurts. I push myself up onto my elbows and groan again, the back of my Mo-hawked head throbbing. I open one eye gently…dam nit, I hate light. Squinting, I open the other.
“Ouch.” I mutter, pulling myself up into a sitting position and blinking. Once, twice, three times. My eyes are open. Gee’s in front of me. In nothing but black underwear. And my jeans are halfway down my legs. If I didn’t know what just happened, I would definitely have got the wrong end of the proverbial stick.
“You made a funny noise, fell backwards and whacked your head on the windowsill.” Gee stood up, pulling me with her. Lightning bolts raged up and down my arm, spreading to my calloused finger tips, making them want to dance. Albeit, dance inside Gee, but that’s another matter entirely.
“That’s how I like to put my jeans on.” I grin, giving her a wink. She giggles and pushes me onto my bed. “Ooh, aye up.” I snicker, raising an eyebrow. Her raven black hair swishes as she shakes her head, snorting at me.
“I’m not gay.” She grins, ripping her jeans off me and slipping them on herself with ease.
“Well. That’s depressing.” I mutter, crossing my arms. She looks up in shock from where she was rooting in her chest of drawers searching for a top.
“You’re depressed because I’m not gay?” Her jaw hangs slightly slack, perfect pink lips parted. I raise both my eyebrows and flop backwards onto the soft mattress.
“Don’t flatter yourself darling.” I roll onto my side to face her. She should flatter herself. She’s bloody well drop dead date a dolphin gorgeous.
“Oh…” Is that a hint of disappointment there my ‘straight’ friend? “What are you depressed about then? She pulls on a skinny black T-shirt with red skeleton hand prints on the breasts. Nice.
“The fact you can pull up those jeans no problem and I could barely get them past my thighs.” I cross my arms behind my head and close my eyes. She flops down next to me. On my bed. As in, next to me. On my bed. Her bed is just feet away. But. She. Chose. Mine.
“Yeah, well I’m just a skinny little runt. You’re more stocky.” She pokes my thigh. “You’re like, rock solid man.” I shake my head.
“Feel my belly if you really think that.” I snort, opening my eyes to look at her. She pokes my belly.
“It’s still not flabby. Just normal.” She shrugs and rolls over back onto her back.
“Indeed. What’s it like here?” I ask, closing my eyes again, drumming a song from 999 on my stomach with my tattooed fingers.
“Meh, not too bad I suppose. You’re the first roommate I’ve had here though.”
“Aw, shit. We’ve got dinner now.” She sighs and pulls herself up. I shake my head and laugh at her, she looks so pissed off. “Come on!” She drags me off the bed by the chain around my neck. Jeez, feisty much.
“And now, my dear girls, we shall say grace. Please bow your heads and clasp your hands. Give thanks to the Lord for the food before us.” Blah, blah, blah…drone, drone, drone…shut the hell up and let me eat!
“Does she ever stop bloody talking?” I mutter to Gee, who proceeded to kick me under the table and continue praying. I roll my eyes and lift my head, putting my elbow on the table and resting my chin on my hand.
“Iero!” Hissed a nun or a teacher or something from behind me. She grabbed my head and shoved my head back down. Jesus Christ what kind of organization are the maniacs running here? I know I was christened Catholic, and brought up Catholic but I don’t believe! Don’t try and make me pray you stupid penguins. Go get laid or something you frigid ass’s.
“You may now eat, daughters of Eve.” The house of a nun waddled off the stage and I scoffed. I bet she has more than the given three meals a day they provide here, looks like her nun cloak thingy has been made out of the tarpaulin of a Warburton’s truck.
“Even if you don’t pray, keep your head down!” Gee scolded, racking me on the back of the knuckles with a fork.
“What a strange word.” I mumble, picking up the cutlery.
“Huh?” Gee frowned, confused, cutting up her spaghetti. Cutting up spaghetti? Pfft, you’re lucky if I use a freaking plate.
“Fork. It’s a funny word. Fork. Fork. Forkety, forkety, fork, fork…” She laughs and shakes her head at me, hair falling in her gorgeous hazel eyes. Like the perfect mug of coffee, but flecked with gold, swimming with emotion behind the façade. What emotions, I do not know. Why they are there, I do not know. But the eyes that lock the emotion inside are magical. Enchanting, even.
“You are so crazy!” She laughs, taking a bite of some of the greasy, rubbery looking spaghetti and cheese concoction that these religion nut’s call food. I take a bite myself and grimace…oh god. I have had worse in my mouth, admittedly. But Christ on a bike wearing baggy purple Y-fronts this is meant to be cheese?
“Not crazy…just mentally un-hinged.” I wink. There is no way in straight-people-land I’m putting any more of that in my mouth though. The food, obviously. I wouldn’t mind having some of Gee in my mouth. Fingers, toes, whatever, I’ll take anything.
“That food tasted like my Granddads’ toenails after he’d walked bare foot through dog shite in the Summer.” I throw myself carelessly on Gee’s bed and kick off my bright yellow Doc’s.
“What scares me is that you know what that tastes like.” Gee slips off her shoes carefully and locks the door, sitting crossed leg by my knees. Knees, that’s a funny word. I like the phrase ‘the bees knees’ but do bees actually have any knees? I like to think they do. Do you know what else I find entertaining? When people say ‘do do’ in a sentence. It’s like ‘I do do ice skating.’ Funny really, funny. I like rusty spoons. Or spoons in general, whatever, give me a spoon I’m happy. But rusty spoons are hip too. Mm, spoons of the rusty variety.
Fingers click in front of my eyes and I jump, “Huh?” I look at Gee, kind of confused now.
“Aaaannd you’re back. What were you thinking of?”
“You really want to know?” I ask, sitting up on my knees and frog leaping down the bed toward her. Classy Frankie, just look like a deranged punk version of some slimy swamp creature.
“Ooh, is it good then?”
“Very good.” I wink, flashing her the smirk which makes all the girls I’ve had before weak at the knees. I’m not being big headed. They fell on me and told me. Such is my seductive aura and general all round sexiness. Sexiness like a boss.
“Do tell then.” She grinned and flicked off the lights. What kind of creepy weirdo? I could feel her breath on me, brushing against my chest.
“Bees knees and rusty spoons.” Silence. More silence. This is now an awkward silence. Another gay baby is born. Shazam.
HELOOO! Did you enjoy this chapter? PLEASE let me know...rate and review you awesome penguins with those pretty purple afro's? You'll get bees knees cookies....they're very nice...especially if you eat them with rusty spoons...RATE AND REVIEW AND BE LOVED BY MOI!