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Eduard stood straight, slapping the car door. “Go home. I’m parked down the street.”
Nodding, I flicked my cigarette out the window and started the car.
Up on the balcony, I gave Roan’s shadowy figure one last glance before driving off.
5
Roan
“No, you can’t make me!”Frankie cried, tightening her arms around my neck.
“You have to let go,” I said with a laugh, trying to peel her off before she strangled me. The pleading look I directed at her brother went unanswered. Instead of helping, he just rolled his eyes.
“No!”
“Frankie, move your ass!” Freddy yelled from the doorway, checking his watch for the twelfth time. “Mom has a reservation for seven and you’re going to make us late!”
“Fuck off!” Frankie snapped. “I’m saying goodbye!”
“You’ve been saying goodbye for fifteen minutes already!”
“My lease is up next week,” I said, pulling back as much as possible to try and look at her. “Then I’ll be back home for the rest of the summer and you’ll be absolutely sick of me.”
“And then you’re going to Georgetown and I’ll never see you again!” she wailed as dramatically as possible, smashing her cheek to mine.
“You’re going to New York, so what do you care?” Freddy snapped.
“God, can you give us two seconds already?” Frankie shot back over her shoulder.
“Whatever. I’ll be in the car.” Freddy grabbed all of her bags and hauled them outside.
She was only supposed to stay the weekend. It turned into three weeks, in which time she managed to buy a replacement wardrobe and a slew of crap for the kitchen and bathroom. Not that my stuff was “bad,” it just wasn’t her “style.” So she said. And since she couldn’t lug everything home on the train by herself, Freddy had to suck it up and make the drive from Chicago to pick her up — herandher crap.
“What is your mom dragging you to tonight?” I asked, hoping to distract her while also sidling toward the door.
“Dinner at some restaurant with some chef that’s trending. The waiting list is ridiculous, but you know how it goes. Mummy Dearest called in a favor and poof! We’re dining at the chef’s table tonight.” She pouted and grabbed my hand. “I wish you were coming. Can’t you go back to being my boyfriend? Seriously!”
“One little problem with that...” I blinked at her pointedly.
“You’re still a good lay, even if you’re gay. Hey, that rhymed!” She laughed at her own joke while I shook my head.
“Thanks. I think…”
Freddy honked the horn.
“I’m coming!” Frankie yelled out the door.
“I actually have to go, too,” I lied, taking another step closer to the threshold. “And you don’t want to get stuck in traffic. That means you’re in the car even longer with your brother.”
She made a horrified face. “Oh my God. You’re right! Ok. Call me tomorrow. And let me know when you’re back at your parents.” Pecking me on the lips, she twirled on the ball of her foot and darted out the door. They started arguing the minute she climbed in the car, hands flapping and mouth moving a hundred miles a minute.
In the twenty years I’d known the Starling twins, nothing had changed except their fights were louder and their insults meaner. Freddy and I got along just fine, but Frankie was the one who kept me sane while growing up in the gilded cage of the Sinclair household. Together, the two were like oil and water.
The couple years Frankie and I were boyfriend/girlfriend were actually great. She was everything anyone would want in a girlfriend, even a teenage boy who didn’t know who he was orwhathe wanted. When I finally figured it out our senior year of high school, she was incredibly supportive — not that I expected anything less.
Still, as much as I loved having her around, I didn’t mind the peace and quiet left in the wake of Hurricane Frankie. I kicked back on the couch and settled in for a war movie, ironically, thrilled to have the TV back after weeks of being subjected to rom-coms and cooking shows.
The movie was almost over when my cell phone rang.
