Hey You Girl

Frankie

Blake has been acting weird for the past few days. I don’t know why, but every time we’ve had an over-the-fence chat, he’s joked about making the Oscars jealous and how he can’t wait to prove him wrong. I’m assuming the “him” he’s referring to is his dad, but with this guy, you can never be totally sure. He’s really determined he’s going to the Oscars, though.

Beyond that, Oscar has been avoiding me even more than normal. I’ve gotten enough side-eye glances from him over the past week, I’m convinced his eyes are just stuck like that. He hasn’t uttered a single word, so I’ve done my part to steer clear of him too.

The weird thing is, I kind of miss our charged dynamic. He may have frustrated me, confused me, and downright angered me, but he’s the first person I’ve found the courage to push back against for years. He’s the first person to challenge me and make me want to be something other than a people-pleasing wallflower. But it doesn’t seem he’s interested in helping with my confidence re-building.

The confusing status of our neighbourly relationship is the sole reason why I agreed to show up at their party tonight. Blake asked, and he’s so convincing, it’s hard to say no. He even encouraged me to bring Brad, because apparently he’s a real selling point when trying to persuade “hot girls” to show up. I’m not sure how I feel about my dog being a wingman, but he gives me a good excuse to leave if I need to.

As I walk up the stairs and hear the faint dance music pumping through the door, I already want to go back home.

The door swings open before I can bail.

“Brad’s here!” a familiar brunette squeals, bending down to pet my dog without acknowledging me.

I’m not upset about that, though. His presence helps to make me more invisible.

We step inside, where the girl grabs the leash and leads Brad into the living room. He goes without looking back, making me question his loyalty.

“Frankie!” Austin cheers, walking into the small foyer. He looks characteristically happy.

“Austin. Nice to see you’ve recovered.”

He stops in front of me and leans against the wall. “Thanks. I was pretty sure I had the plague. Things looked pretty grim for a while there.”

Now I’ve learned two things Blake and Austin have in common: neither of them can keep a secret, and they’re both overly dramatic.

“Well, I’m glad you pulled through.” I glance behind him and see Brad flopped on his back, soaking up some belly rubs again. The other guy I search for, however, is nowhere to be seen. “Oscar in hiding again?” I ask, adding a short laugh to play off my question as a disinterested observation and nothing more.

“He went to Hollis’ place.” Austin shrugs before taking a sip of his beer. “He’s anti-hot girls and good times this year.” Without further explanation, he turns and waves me inside. “Come on. I’ll get you a drink.”

I look down at my fingers, picking at my nails, asking myself a carousel of questions with no answers. Most notably, who’s Hollis? “Oh. Sure,” I finally choke out, following Austin with a pit of disappointment in my stomach.

A totally unjustified pit of disappointment.

I should be happy the curmudgeon isn’t here. The fact that I’m not leads to a lot more unanswered questions.

“Frankie!” Blake says in the same enthusiastic tone Austin used minutes ago. He’s standing in the kitchen, in the exact spot he was in the first time I came in here. His level of drunkenness and the girls crowded around him is also the same. “Where’s Brad?” he asks, as he always does.

“In the living room with his biggest fan. Probably making Keith feel inadequate again.” I try to laugh off the stupid joke, but being here tonight just doesn’t feel right. And I don’t think it’s because I’m not a people person.

“Don’t worry. Nobody makes Keith feel inadequate. What are you drinking?”

Normally, I drink wine, paired with the right meal. The odd time, on special occasions, I’ll have some Campari before dinner, but drinking just for the sake of drinking has never been my thing. Until tonight. “I don’t know. What do you suggest?”

One girl clinging to Blake squeals and claps her hand. “Let me make you a cocktail.”

Blake smiles at her, which she returns, but she doesn’t look to me for any confirmation. She gets to work sliding bottles across the counter and pouring liquor into a glass. I watch in horror as she adds tequila, rum, vodka, gin, and a few other ingredients.

“This is my favourite. It’s called an ‘AMF’, but I won’t tell you what that stands for. I’m Molly, by the way.”

I take the drink she’s set in front of me, hesitant to try it, so I delay by introducing myself. “Frankie. Nice to meet you. Uh… thanks.”

Molly claps again and waits expectantly for me to take a sip of this mystery drink. Blake and Austin are both staring at me with the same eager expression.

I lift the drink and smell it before bringing it to my lips, but the alcohol scent is so strong, it tickles my throat. A small cough forces its way out, making me even more reluctant. Yet, peer pressure wins out, so I finally test Molly’s concoction. It doesn’t taste as potent as it smells, but it’s still strong. With all the eyes I can feel focused on me, I keep my eyes on the drink as I continue to take small sips until it’s three-quarters empty. Now, everyone else seems to have gotten bored watching me, so they’re back to the conversations they were having before I entered.

And even amongst a crowd of people, I still feel lonely.

It’s that realization that forces me to peek my head into the living room to find Brad. He’s busy soaking up the attention from his adoring fans.

Molly redirects my attention, offering me another drink. Blake has made his way across the kitchen, leaving me and Molly alone, so I agree. Not like I have to drive home.

I watch as she pours the same mix of liquor into my plastic cup and passes it to me. She’s smiling from ear to ear as she repeats the process for herself.

“How are my two favourite girls?” Blake asks, throwing his arm around Molly when he returns with a new beer.

They really do make a good-looking couple. It’s weird, because I don’t have the smallest spark of jealousy over Blake—who has been nothing but kind to me—showing attention to Molly, but the thought of Oscar missing out on tonight to be with another girl has left me feeling empty.

Enough so, I chug half of my drink, then reply, “Not feeling the buzz yet.”

“Molly can take care of that.” He tilts his head down to whisper something in her ear, which has her cheeks blazing pink and a shy smile appearing on her face for the first time.

“Sure,” she says to me. “To both,” she adds, looking at Blake.

His face splits with a devilish grin as he glances down at her.

“Frankie, tell me about yourself. How come I’ve never seen you around campus?” Molly asks, leaning into Blake’s side.

I take a minute to explain to Molly that this is my first year here, but glance over details about where I’m from or the real reason why I transferred. She asks about my program, but she’s in the screenwriting program with Blake, so my major isn’t in her wheelhouse. In her words, “The only science I study is science fiction.”

“She might be a science nerd, but she came in clutch for my screenplay this year.” He smiles at me, but instead of being grateful for the praise, it makes me more uncomfortable to be the focus of attention amongst the other people who have joined our conversation.

I down the rest of my second drink and slide my cup back to Molly. I reply while she works her magic. “Don’t thank me yet. Your professor could hate the idea.”

“No, I presented an outline to Kiki, and she said, and I quote, ‘It has wonderful potential if you can keep the storyline focused.’ That’s my specialty; focus.” He winks at me and adds, “So one day, the Oscars will appreciate Frankie… I don’t know your last name.”

Instead of answering, I divert my attention back to my fresh drink and glance back into the living room again.

The next ninety minutes pass much the same way. Awkward breaks in conversation when I’m left feeling alone inside a house with thirty other people in it, another couple of drinks, and me wishing I could be as relaxed and carefree as Brad.

I finally vacate the kitchen and go sit on the couch near Keith. It’s not until I sit that I realize how much my head is spinning. It’s also a surprise how heavy my eyes are… and I’m too relaxed to fight.