FicWad

Abbey’s breath caught at her throat. She jumped as someone placed and hand on her shoulder, and she turned to see that it was merely Frankito attempting to reassure her. She released her breath before turning frantically to Tré.

“I’m not ready for this,” She gasped, gesturing to her attire.

“You’ll be fine,” Tré told her with a tentative smile. He shoved a comb in her hand and pushed her toward the bathroom.

She stepped inside and began yanking the comb through her frizzy hair, to no avail. She stared at her thin face and began to hyperventilate. There was a soft knock at the door.

“Come in,” She said shrilly. Frankito stepped in, a cautious smile upon his lips.

“Chill, Abbey,” He told her, “Adrienne is cool.”

“That’s the problem,” she mumbled, once again preoccupied by the curly yet lank mop of hair of her head.

“Just come out when you’re ready,” Frankito told her quietly and stepped through, closing the door behind him.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Adrienne sat agitatedly before Tré, all but glaring at his goofy smile.

“Tré,” she said her voice giving away nothing of her annoyance, “what are you dragging me into?” At this, he looked down, staring at his red Chuck Taylor’s.

“She’s a decent kid,” He said softly, “she’s just lost.”

“Well, maybe,” Adrienne said, her resolve breaking, “she should go home.”

“I can’t send her away,” He said quickly, his eyes sharp with unusual seriousness. Adrienne blinked warily.

“Tré,” She told him, “you don’t even know her!”

“I see a part of myself in her,” He replied, “she’s scared out of her mind.”

“When have you ever been scared of anything, Tré?”

“Look,” He told her sharply, now, “I’m not asking you to understand. I’m asking you to help me, help her.”

“Tré,” She replied in all seriousness, “you’re not just risking your security with this. You’re risking your friends and family by inviting a total outsider into our lives.”

“She’s not a risk.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Adrienne,” He pleaded quietly, “trust me, for once.” Adrienne’s face softened slightly and she just nodded.

Abbey walked in. Her hair was slicked down with water, her black T-shirt baggy on her bony shoulders, her eyes wide with fear and wonder. Tré stood suddenly and stepped out of Abbey’s way. Abbey padded slowly over to the recliner and sat down, staring at her hands.

“Can I get you anything?” Tré asked Adrienne, attempting to be on his best behavior.

“How about you make some tea, Tré,” Adrienne told him without looking away from Abbey. He rolled his eyes but left the room.

“So,” Adrienne began, “what brings you here?” Abbey looked for the first time into Adrienne’s dark-brown eyes. Her olive-skinned face was unsmiling.

“I-I,” Abbey stuttered, “I came to start my career.”

“And what did you have in mind?”

“Well, I’d been working on getting my degree in graphic design.”

“What happened with that?”

“I-I haven’t been to class since last year.”

“Why not?”

“I-I left home…”

“Why?”

“I can’t talk about it.” Abbey found she was breathless. Adrienne held her hands up in surrender. She was quiet for a moment, staring off into space. Abbey stared down at her Converse, cursing Tré silently, but also cursing herself.

“I’m sorry,” Adrienne whispered suddenly, smoothing her dreadlocks against her dark skin.

“Don’t be,” Abbey mumbled.

“No,” Adrienne to her, looking into her eyes,” I am. It’s just this is an odd situation.”

“I understand,” Abbey grumbled, “I’m an outsider; you're afraid that I’m an imposter.”

“Are you?” Abbey only blinked at her in incredulity.

“Let me tell you,” Abbey snarled, “I decided to starve on the beach, precisely to get a chance to ruin your life.” Adrienne shook her head.

Tré came in then and placed a tall glass of iced tea in front of Adrienne. He came to stand behind Abbey, an expectant look on his face.

“So,” Adrienne began her tone falsely jovial, “do you have a resume?”

Abbey nodded slowly.

“Frankito,” Tré shouted, then, “did you print that out?” Frankito ran downstairs, nearly tripping over his gangly legs. He stopped awkwardly at the bottom.

“I meant to do that,” he said with a chuckle as he paced toward Adrienne, a sheet of paper in hand. He shoved it in her hand and rushed over to stand beside Tré. Adrienne stared down at Abbey’s resume, her round face giving nothing away.

“How are you at answering phones?” She asked quietly.

“I can do it,” Abbey told her with surprise.

Adrienne looked her over, quietly before sighing. She looked to Tré who smiled, his blue eyes glittering with excitement.

“Tré,” She said with a tentative smile, “you’d better be right.” He simply nodded. She looked Abbey, who was fighting the urge to smile, in the face.

“It’s not the most exciting work,” Adrienne told her, “but if you want it, you’ve got the job.” Abbey couldn’t help but smile, now. She hopped to her feet startling the others. She thrust her hand out toward Adrienne, and she slowly took it and shook it before standing herself.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Abbey gasped. Adrienne genuinely laughed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Adrienne told her heading towards the door. Abbey nodded quickly.

“Adeline Records,” Adrienne informed her as she started out the door, “8 a.m.”

“I’ll be there,” Abbey called after her, smile plastered on your face. She turned to Tré then, tears prickling her eyes.

“Congratulations,” he said softly.

“Thank you,” she said to him, tears sliding down her cheeks, “so much.”

At the sight of her tears, Tré blanched. Frankito laughed at his reaction and sauntered out of the room, leaving his father to deal with Abbey’s emotions.

“D-don’t cry,” he muttered awkwardly. She glowed crimson and swiped the tears away.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “it’s just; this is the best thing that’s happened to me… Maybe ever.” He nodded and stood quietly, while she calmed herself down.

“I-I need to go to the store,” she said picking her wallet up from the table.

“What do you need?” He asked in confusion.

“I hardly think it’s appropriate to go to my first day of work in red jeans and a worn old T-shirt,” she told him with a chuckle, her eyes still shining with tears. He nodded, grabbing his keys from his jacket on the wall.

“I’ll give you a ride,” He insisted with a smile.

“Tré,” She said softly, “you’ve done enough. I’ll walk.” He laughed at her.

“Yeah right,” He chuckled, “you’re a scrawny, white girl wearing red jeans, and I’m not letting you walk around Oakland. Besides, I can always use an excuse to get Gypsy on the road.”

Abbey blushed and nodded.

“Frankito,” He shouted, “I’m giving Abbey a ride to the store!”

“Okay!” Frankito shouted back, from down the hall. Abbey laughed then as they headed out the door.

“What?” Tré asked with a goofy smirk.

“You two are very alike,” She told him as Gypsy chirped. Tré shrugged and went to open the door for her. She blushed and slid inside Gypsy’s inviting leather interior.

In the end, she wound up spend her last $35 dollars on dark jeans, a pack of T-shirts, pajamas and a gift for Tré. That night as she stood over the sink besides Tré cleaning the dishes leftover from a delicious dinner, she found herself smiling more than she had in months, as they bantered casually.

“You know,” He told her, “I was thinking while you were in the store.”

“Uh oh,” She joked, “did you hurt yourself?” He laughed and elbowed her playfully.

“Oh yeah,” He told her with a chuckle, “my hair almost caught on fire.”

“Ooh, no good,” she laughed, drying a plate with an old rag, “but anyway?"

“Well,” He began, his eyes sparkling with humor, “Claudia moved out a few years ago, and her room has been basically untouched since then.” Her hands froze up on the now dry plate.

“And,” He continued, his eyes on the cup he was rinsing, “There’s no reason for you to sleep on the couch, when there’s a perfectly good bed upstairs.”

“No,” She told him, “I couldn't put you out any more than I already have.”

“You won’t be,” He assured her, “it’s just there.”

“I can’t,” She refused him, “Tré, you’ve already done too much.”

“I’m not doing anything,” He said, handing her a dripping cup, “it’s just an offer. Sleep on the couch, if you want.” She nodded but considered it internally, as she dried it off. ‘It would be nice to sleep in a bed, again,’ she thought with a grin.

“Besides,” Tré told her, “you talk in your sleep.” She blushed, a deep red at the memory of Frankito’s wake up call, and he laughed.

“You do that, a lot,” He said smiling over at her.

“What?” She asked, not meeting his eyes.

“Blush,” He informed her, “you’re red in the face, like 80% of the time.”

Just like that, her skin was rouge.

“There you go again,” He chuckled as he rinsed the last dirty dish.

“Stop pointing it out,” She snarked, taking it from his hands, “or I’ll be beet red, forever.” He held his hands up in surrender and headed towards the door.

“I’ll go ahead and put blankets upstairs,” he said with a grin, “in case you change your mind.” She thanked him and placed the bowl in the dish strainer.

She then found herself wandering around, glowing with joy and excitement. Frankito had a while before gone up to bed, due to it being a school night. She then plopped down on the couch and sighed with satisfaction. She stretched out and as if her body were reminding her of Tré’s offer, she couldn’t get comfortable, which was odd since only two nights before she had found comfort on the sandy beach. So, she hesitantly began upstairs, where Tré’s bedroom door was propped open with a crate of records. He sat up against the headboard of his fluffy bed; an ear bud shoved in his right ear, staring into nothing.

She knocked quietly and he jumped, as though startled before smiling over sleepily at her. He waved her in, pulling the headphone from his ear. She slowly walked in, taking in, as non-intrusively as possible, her surroundings. His room was extremely cluttered, which was to be expected. His hamper was overstuffed, clothes lying all around it. All along the walls lay crates and crates full of records, most by artists she’d never heard of. On his dresser were tons of framed photos of him, Frankito and a young girl she recognized as Ramona, his daughter. His thick black curtains closed over what looked to be like a very large window.

Tré patted the bed, for her to sit down, and she did very hesitantly. An iPod Nano lay beside him, the buttons worn from use. She grabbed it quickly.

“What are you listening to?” She asked pressing the button to unlock it. The display read ‘Ave Maria – Andrea Bocelli.’ She chuckled.

“What?” He asked taking it from her hands and looking down at the display as though he was unsure.

“Nothing,” she told him with a chuckle, “I just didn’t take you for the Opera type.”

“Well, you learn something new every day,” He told her with a grin.

She reached inside her pocket and pulled out a tiny package.

“Here,” Abbey said, thrusting it into his hands. He looked up at her in confusion before opening it. Inside was a small, key chain engraved with the name Gypsy. He smiled up at her.

“This is why you took so long?” He asked with a laugh. She shrugged.

“It’s not much,” She told him, “but I had to do something.”

“It’s great,” He said, plucking it from the box and adding it to the key ring on his bedside table. She smiled and began to stand.

“Have you changed your mind?” He asked her.

She looked at him oddly, her mind searching for obvious answers to why he was so inclined and found none.

“Why do you ask?”

He grew quiet as though pondering in the same manner she had been.

“Can I ask you something?” He said after a while, attempting to distract her.

“I-I,” She stammered before pausing briefly, “-sure.”

“How do you feel about me?” He breathed, looking down at the keys in his hand.

Abbey laughed and turned redder than Tré had seen so far.

“I-I am SO not going there,” she giggled borderline hysterically. Tré stared blankly up at her. She became serious, suddenly.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she reminded him. Her cheeks were still pink, and she clasped her suddenly clammy hands together.

“Neither did you,” He told her, his grin stiff and his eyebrow rose.

She smiled shyly at his expression and softly said, “Yes, I’ve changed my mind. Where is it?”

He stood then and began down the hallway. As they began, she thought for some reason he was taking her to the practice room but he stopped next to Frankito’s door. He shoved the door open, flipped the light on and stepped inside. She followed him, and her face lit up. It was a very plain room, with almost no personality whatsoever. The very ordinary looking bed covered with simple white sheets, gray blankets and fluffy black pillows. An old-school alarm clock sat on the plastic bedside table. She loved it. She turned to him, her eyes radiant with adoration.

“You have no idea how grateful and indebted you, I am,” She told him covering her face with her hands. He hesitated for a second and placed his hand on her shoulder. She froze, not removing her hands from her face, and he quickly removed his.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered staring oddly down at his feet, pointing to the dresser, “the dresser is empty.” She stepped forward and touched his arm lightly with just the tips of her fingers.

“Thank you,” she told him with the most genuine appreciativeness he ever saw. She moved away toward the hall.

“Where are you going?” He asked following after her as she started downstairs.

“I have to change,” She told him as she got to the bottom.

He stopped in his tracks and said simply, “oh.”

“Good night, Tré,” Abbey said smiling up at him, “seriously, thanks a lot.” He smiled too, looking suddenly very tired.

“‘Night,” Tré said turning back and heading to his room.

Abbey left to the living room to get her things and felt paranoid in the tenebrous dark. She grabbed her small bag of things and scurried down the hall to the bathroom where she flipped on the light and closed the door with a sigh. She changed quickly into her plaid pajamas and ran on her tip toes back upstairs to the spare room. She laid her bags down next to the dresser for the morning and sat on the bed. It was a bit saggy, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind as she set the alarm for 6:30 a.m.

She slid beneath the covers and curled tightly against the pillow and sighed in contentment. She heard Tré snoring in the next room and smiled sleepily. She tried not to wonder about Tré’s strange and embarrassing question and focus on her first day of work in months at Adeline Records. She shivered at the thought and realized if she continued in this fashion she’d never get to sleep, so instead she focused on Tré’s snoring. She found comfort in remembering his smile and soon drifted off to her peaceful sleep in years.