Click, click. I flick my lighter until the flame finally catches. Putting my cigarette to the flame, I take a long drag and slowly exhale. I roll down the window just enough for the smoke to escape. Absentmindedly jamming my keys into the ignition, I start the car and pull out of the parking lot anticipating a lazy Friday night alone.

Never have I been more thankful for the weekend than today.

Let me introduce myself. My name is Reagan Ansley Dixon. For the last few months I have been working my butt off at a local record label here in Jersey hoping to learn a few things from the pros. So far I have learned not much more than how to work an extremely high end espresso machine, but that’s beside the point. I just graduated high school in May and I’m trying to make something of myself before I get sucked into the everyday mundane life I see my parents trapped in.

I’ve always been against college, really school in general. It’s honestly a miracle I even graduated high school. I’m just not cut out for the whole going to school for half of my life just to work the other half to pay it off.

Back in high school I was always in trouble for one thing or another. In private school it is typically frowned upon to be different, and boy was I different. The day I came to school with a septum piercing I thought they were going to start throwing holy water the second I walked through the door. I was sent to the principal and given a stern talking to about “defiling the body God gave me” was made to take it out. Little did they know I put the jewelry back in when I went to the bathroom and just kept the jewelry flipped up in my nose so no one could see it.

I was definitely a loner.

I did have a couple of friends I would talk to at school, mostly stoners and other “weirdos” and “freaks” that no one wanted to be tainted by associating themselves with, but I had one friend I knew was a true blue ‘til the end kind of friend. You’ll learn more about him later.

After a short drive, I arrive back at my cruddy apartment complex and take the flight of stairs leading to my door on the second level, and start to fumble around in my purse for my keys.

“I better not have lost those fuckers again,” I mumble to myself delving even deeper into the abyss that is my purse.

Just about the time the words left my lips, my keys came flying out of my purse onto the paved walk way several feet in front of me landing right in front of my neighbor’s door. I start walking towards the runaways keys. Bending down to pick them up I hear the door behind me creak open and a stifled giggle. Frank.

Dammit! I just wanna relax tonight and I swear he’s gonna talk me into some shenanigans that I don’t want any part of, I thought to myself grasping the keys and returning to my original vertical position (or as vertical as I can get standing at only 5’3”).

Let’s talk a little bit about my neighbor Frank.

Frank Anthony Iero is the only child of divorced parents. He was my best friend in high school and still is. I know he would do anything for me, and I for him. We were very similar and both had a very strong rebellious phases back in our high school days. I think going to a private school for our entire school careers had a lot to do with that. Honestly, we’re both probably still in that phase a little bit since we’re both only 19. He has the kindest and most caring soul, but most people are intimidated by him (even though he stands at only 5’6”) because he dresses like a punk and has both tattoos and piercings. I think its HOT, but then again I dress almost the same way.

We had been best friends ever since I could remember. When we both graduated high school we wanted to move out. At first my parents weren’t so stoked on the idea of their 19 year old daughter living on her own in the city, but when Frank and I ended up getting apartments in the same complex, even right across from each other, and they seemed to feel a lot better about me moving.
I turn around to see my Frank casually standing in his doorway leaning on the frame with his arms crossed in front of his chest. I see him donning his usual garb. A faded Black Flag t-shirt, light blue ripped jeans, and an old worn in pair of vans. He just stares at me with his piercing hazel eyes and tilts his head slightly leaving his jet black hair at an angle across his forehead. Again a stifled giggle erupts from his chest when I turn to face him. I saunter up to Frank and say, “What do you think you’re laughing at, huh?”

Continuing to laugh he manages to say, “I was just surprised, I didn’t think there was supposed to be a full moon tonight!”

“What are you talking about you dumb ass, there’s not a full moon tonight.” I reply thumping him on the arm.

“Well you might wanna look behind you because I can ASSure you there is!”

As soon as the words leave his lips he collapses in a fit of laughter.

My face turns three different shades of red. Could this day really get any worse. I must have ripped my skirt when I bent down to reach for my keys. I reach around to feel the back of my skirt, and sure enough, my entire ass is hanging out. What makes it even worse is I usually don’t wear underwear. Don’t ask me why but I just dont like the way they feel.

That means FRANK JUST GOT A REALLY GOOD GLIMPSE AT MY ENTIRE ASS I can guarantee I will never hear the end of this.

Grabbing the back of my skirt and covering my naked derrière the best I could, I kick my keys and my purse toward Frank.

“Frankie shut your face and help me open my door so I don’t flash the entire world with my pale ass again. I don’t think they’re ready for this jelly.” I say trying to laugh off the whole incident.

“Well I know I definitely was not ready for that jelly!” Frank managed to say wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes.
He slowly lifts himself off of the pavement by his door dusting himself off and shutting his door behind him. I notice the muscles in his heavily tattooed arms tense with each movement. His face is flushed from all the laughing he just did. Seeing him all flushed and out of breath like this makes my mind wander to places it shouldn’t. He’s my best friend. I cannot go around thinking about fucking him all of the time just because I need to get laid. My hormones are out of control today.

Grabbing my keys and my purse off of the ground Frank steps closer to me until his face is mere inches from mine. Involuntarily, my breath hitches in my throat. I pray he doesn’t notice.
He looks me right in the eyes, “Let’s go get you out of those clothes,” he says winking at me. Then proceeds to slap my exposed backside and continue laughing.

“You fucking perv!” I squealed in shock, also giving him a quick smack on his tight little rear end.

He turns around in my doorway posing with my purse and keys twirling his one lock of long jet black hair around his finger.

“How do I look!?” he says in the most feminine voice he could muster.

“Oh Francis, you look so fab!” I exclaim laying on the sarcasm.
Frank just cracks a smile and shakes his head turning back to face the door.

He continues to unlock the door but doesn’t open it quite yet. He turns to face me and leans back onto the door. There is a slight change in his demeanor. He is slightly calmer and more serious. The spark behind his hazel eyes begins to catch fire. What was he thinking in that beautiful little dark locked head of his?

He hands me back my keys not breaking eye contact.

He begins speaking in a voice no louder than a whisper, “You know Reagan...”

He trails off and I don’t dare move an inch. I wonder if I’m the only one that can feel the sexual tension growing to astronomical levels. I’m glad I’m not wearing underwear because I would have to change them after this conversation anyways. What is wrong with me today!?

I stare at him for a second.
“What?” I ask him as I start to crack a smile. It’s really hard for me to be serious.

He begins smiling back at me as well as he shifts his eyes down to our feet and shakes his head.

What is he thinking?
“What, Frank?” I urge him.

“Well...” he starts to trail off yet again. I smack his shoulder with the hand that isn’t holding my skirt together.

“Speak words please,” I say.

He looks at me yet again, “You do have a really nice ass!”

I throw my head back in laughter and just like that he leans back into the door, twists the door knob and shuts himself into my apartment while I am distracted.

I hear him shouting through the door, “You know what I’m thinking? Panty raid!”

“Ha good luck with that one! You know I hardly ever wear underwear!” I shout back trying to get the key back in the lock.

I somehow manage to get the door unlocked again without showing my entire ass to the rest of the neighbors. Barging in the door I see a trail of clothing leading to my bed room.

“What the fuck have you gotten into? I swear you’re like a small child!” I say rounding the corner to my room.

I pass through the doorway and there he is.

“What the hell Frank!” I practically squeal as I enter the room and bear witness to something I thought I would never see... Frank Anthony Iero wearing a lacy black bra with matching thong over his boxers.

“I see you’ve been keeping your little stash a secret, huh?” he raises his eyebrows in a provocative manner as he pulls the bra straps and releases them making a snapping sound.

“I am a woman, I like to feel sexy sometimes!” I retort.
“Yeah, but these, they’re like really sexy,” He said.

“Well isn’t that the point?” I roll my eyes at him.

He smirks as he lies down on my bed and begins playfully posing as if he was some playboy centerfold.

“Stop this nonsense, I can’t take it!” I joke as I wildly flail my hands in the air forgetting I was holding the back of my skirt together.

Frank yet again bursts out in a fit of laughter at the sight of my pale, naked ass, only this time it was also jiggling violently because of my spastic fit of arm flailing.

“Alright! Ha-Ha I’m a grown woman with an ass that happens to be very voluptuous and jiggles when I make sudden movements! Now get out so I can put on some pants!” I say as I grab his hand pulling him off of my bed, and push him out of my bedroom door.

I close the door and begin rifling through my dresser drawers.

“I know I have those sweat pants in here somewhere,” I mumble as I open up another drawer and continue searching.

That’s the thing about me. I live in a permanent state of mess and chaos so sometimes it takes me a while to find things. When I lived at home with my family it used to drive my mom crazy. She was always on me to clean something or pick something up. Now that I live on my own there’s no one to bother me about things like that, so my room, and the rest of my apartment is usually kept a little on the messy side. But I don’t let it get too out of hand.

I finally find the perfectly worn in pair of sweat pants I was looking for. The gray men’s Nike sweatpants that I actually stole from Frank years ago. They look better on me anyway. Plus, I like that it has pockets. Women’s sweat pants are lame for not having any. I slip on my faded black Nirvana t-shirt and start to slide on a pair of warm, comfy Halloween socks with skeletons and jack o’ lanterns on them.

As hobble around the room bouncing on one foot, I manage to put on the second sock. Suddenly, I hear some ruckus coming from my kitchen. I open my bedroom door and make my way back down the hall to see what Frank had gotten himself into when I was changing.

I turn the corner into my kitchen and see him casually standing there taking a sip from a bottle of beer still wearing my lacy black lingerie set.

“Oh so that’s why you wanted to come over. I see. You only like me for my beer.” I joke with him as I walk over to open the fridge. I open it, grab a beer for myself, then close then door by bumping it with my hip.

“Obviously. Its not because you’re a totally rad chick or anything,” he jokes as he perches himself up on my counter and takes another drink.

“Obviously,” I joke along with him as I pop off the bottle cap and add it to my collection I keep in a jar on the counter.

“But for the record, I will always be happy to come over here and take some of this beer off of your hands,” he adds giving me a sarcastic smirk.

“I knew it! I can never tell who my real friends are because of my infinitely stocked fridge of beer,” I jest while hopping gracefully onto the counter beside him.

Clinking our bottles together and both taking a drink I give a sigh and lean back onto the wall as I aimlessly swing my feet and letting my heels hit the cabinets below.

Frank leans back on the wall as well and begins to swing his feet perfectly in tempo with mine creating to matching drumming patterns on my lower kitchen cabinets. Realizing what he was doing I let out a slight giggle and begin tapping my beer bottle with the ring I had on adding a different musical layer to the sound of our drumming feet. Frank begins to looking around for another item we can use for unintended musical purposes, while continuing the constant beat with his feet, and settles for a plastic bowl and a couple of spoons that are in the sink beside him. He flips the bowl upside down and begins drumming out some intricate pattern using the two spoons.

Frank is talented. I mean really musically talented. He’s not a drummer, but I’m sure he could be if he wanted to. He plays several different instruments but his favorite, and the one he is the best at, is guitar. It almost feels inappropriate to sit and watch him play. The way his fingers quickly and delicately move across the fret board, well, it’s almost a sin. Every song he plays as if he is making love to the instrument. The passion in his eyes when he plays, it’s absolutely electrifying. Maybe thats why I’ve been having so many sexual dreams about him lately, I’ve just been watching him play too much. I know I have known him since I can remember, but sometimes it catches me off guard how sexy he can be.

I was just getting into our newly created song when we are interrupted by one of my neighbors banging on the wall telling us to ‘stop that racket.’

“The joys of apartment life are just absolutely endless,” I say as I roll my eyes and hop down off of the counter. Frank does the same and puts the bowl and the spoons back where he found them.

I sigh and lean on the counter putting my beer bottle to my lips and tipping it back. I finish the bottle and toss it in the trash.

“You have to go, I really just need a night to myself Frank.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do in my apartment all alone?” Frank says in the most ridiculous whining voice I have ever heard. He tries to further persuade me by trying to look like a pitiful sad puppy.

“Stop, you know I hate it when you do that!” I squeal as he pulls me into a hug.

“I know you do,” he says slightly pulling back from the hug and cracking a smile that would charm the pants off of anyone. “I’m going to be so bored. Come on Rea, it’s Friday night! Let loose a little!”

He always ends up talking me into something when he gives me that look. It’s just so hard for me to resist. It’s not going to work this time though. I need some alone time. Just for one night, I need to be by myself. I need to get my head straight after this stressful week.

“Not tonight, I’m just too tired. Why don’t you call up the guys or something?”

“I can’t. Everyone is busy tonight, I already tried to making plans with them. I guess I’ll just go play xbox for a little while then crash since you’re gonna be lame,” he said sticking his tongue out at me.

I flip him off.

“Oh well it’s good to know I was the second choice then,” I joke as I start as I start walking toward the door.
He follows me and we both stand by the door for a moment.

“It’s only because you’re lame.” he kids.

“Says the guy wearing women’s underwear over his clothes.” I say as I grab one of the bra straps and snap it against his exposed skin.

He just smirks and shimmies the lingerie off as I gather his clothing and shove the pile into his hands.

I open the door to let him out and watch the half clothed man walk away. Not such a bad view.

I start closing the door, but then I hear Frank saying something so I open it back up just slightly.

“Reagan, If you change your mind just come knock on my door, okay?” he says disappearing into his doorway.

I half-heartedly shout back, “Okay, but don’t get your hopes up sweet cheeks!”

“Oh, I think we all know who has the sweet cheeks around here!” he shouts before laughing at his own joke then closing his door.

I stand in my doorway for a moment. Frank just said I had sweet cheeks. I feel the heat creeping back into my cheeks (on my face you pervs) again as I start to blush.

I let out a sigh then shut myself into my apartment. I go grab another beer and settle myself down on my couch for what I thought would be a night of me watching Supernatural all by myself.

Oh how wrong I was.