Every Burden Has a Version

“Would you still be my friend if I smiled like this?” I asked Frank through laughs, smiling like a horse.

Frank threw his head back in laughter. “I don’t know. It would embarrass me. You’re embarrassing in public.” Frank’s face was so full of activity with different emotions.

We sat on the curb on of the sidewalk next to an active and busy boulevard drinking 40's in a brown paper bag. We seriously think we’re badass.

“Would you still be my friend if I flashed myself right now in front of that dark grey caravan filled with children?” Frank questioned, keeping a stern face.

“I don’t know. That’s a callous one and I might not forgive you for it. I’m sure the soccer mom would enjoy it though. Who knows the last time her husband gave her a show.” I bit my lip. “But, yeah, I would still be your friend,” I chuckled.

“Okay, just wondering.”

“Just think,” I thought aloud, “tomorrow you won’t have to show your counterfeit ID or lie about your age. You can, like, say you’re twenty-one then slap the cashier across the face. Call them a douche and run off.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. It was just a suggestion. I’ll do it when I turn twenty-one. I’ll be like I’m twenty-one, bitch, so fucking let me buy my alcohol in serenity! Yeah, fucker, let’s dance.”

Frank laughed uncontrollably. “Only you would do that.”

“Regrettably,” I sniggered.

“But don’t you get invited to parties after parties since you’re famous? You can get free booze, right?”

“I try not to pose myself as Lindsay Lohan or Paris Hilton.”

“Who are they?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows at my statement.

“Exactly,” I blew the hair out of my face. “I hate this street, man. The white cross is still there.” I pointed to the other side of the toll road. “The community still put flowers for the poor little guy, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s still immense news broadcast here.”

“I still remember that day. It’s horrifying.” I shook my head, gazing at the cross. “I cannot believe I was so stupid that night.”

“We,” Frank mumbled.

I frowned and lowered my head. “Haven't you noticed we always change the subject?"

“We have been over it a thousand and one times.” Frank moped, putting out his lower lip and then reaching his hand to his bottle of liquor.

“Maybe if we actually had a conversation about it as an alternative of saying, ‘Well, shit happens’ I would shut my mouth. Instead, you make me feel like shit by putting it off time after time. Grow some nuts.”

Frank gaped. “Don’t even go there, Violet.”

“Oh, I went there and I didn’t even buy myself a round trip ticket.”

“You know I don’t enjoy talking about it,” Frank argued.

“Neither do I! Stop being so egotistical,” I squabbled.

“What do you want me to say? We were drunk and fucking overconfident that night thinking we were unstoppable. We weren’t. We’re fortunate we weren’t put away for life.”

“Can’t we do something? Like, can we go to the parents and ask for forgiveness. I’ll kiss their feet or anything just so this guilt doesn’t eat me alive like a fucking buzzard.”

“I have shame too, Violet. Now you’re being self-centered.” Frank starred at me.

“Go on,” I spoke with antagonism.

“Go on with what?”

“I don’t know. I just thought if you had more to say, you would say it to my face instead of waiting twenty years!” I screamed, standing to my feet and scarcely tripping into the bike line.

“What the fuck, Violet?” Frank questioned, bringing himself to his feet and holding onto my shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

I frowned.

“Sometimes,” Frank began with a humble expression, “I think you just argue to argue with me.”

I shrugged.

“You’re not even good at arguing.” He let go of my shoulders and just put one arm over them. We began to walk on the sidewalk.

“I am too!” I disputed. “I would be a damn good lawyer. End of discussion.”

-Three Years Ago- “Frank! Frank, open up the door!” I hollered outside of Frank’s front door of his house. I clenched my hand into a fist and knocked on the door. “Frank!”

Frank opened the door with damped hair dripping over his face and a bath robe that was two sizes too big. He probably just got out of the shower. God forbid he should take a shower before one.

“Are you seriously wearing a bath robe?” I asked, pushing him out of the way to enter his house.

He closed the door. “I seriously am wearing a robe.”

I checked him up and down. “I thought you had to get the flu to actually wear one of those or at least be locked up in a mental institute.”

Frank smirked as if he was not positive if he should laugh or not at my comment.

I sat down on his sofa and crossed my legs Indian style. “Guess what?” I raised my eyebrows, tapping my fingers together in a mad scientist way.

“Can I get a hint?” Frank sat down next to me, keeping his legs together.

“It involves my birthday plus something that never happens to us.”

Frank titled his head. “I give up.”

I moaned. “We have been invited to a P-A-R-T-Y! My birthday lands on a Friday this year when a massive party is going on that has free booze and open beds.”

“Whose party is it?”

“That one chick with the curly blonde hair that looks like she is going to puke all the time in my American Government class,” I said, bit by bit. “She just invited me to her get-together. She supposedly overheard me talk about my birthday and how I always spend it with you. By the way,” I said, smiling, “it is absolutely okay with me to spend my birthday with you because I wouldn’t want it any other way.” I scooted close to Frank. “Would do you say? Will you come with me to the party?”

“I don’t know. Is there going to be a lot jocks and drunken chicks?” Frank tugged on his lip with his hand.

“Most likely, but honestly who gives a shit? But, if you show up in that,” I rubbed my hands along Frank’s sleeve of his bath robe, “the jocks will fuck with you till the day you graduate.”

“I don’t really want to go.”

“Please, please, please. I beg of you, Franklin. I’ll – what do you want me to do to make you go?”

“Does it truly means that much to you?” Frank questioned, studying my eyes.

“We never get invited to parties! This is the first time since when? The first grade when parents made you ask the whole class to your party? Ever since then no one cared about us. Frank, we’re outcasts if you haven’t figured that out. So, when I have an opportunity to go to a party, I’m going and you’re coming with me.”

“I wasn’t invited though. You were, not me.”

“People know by now we are joined at the hip. You can’t say Violet without Frank or Frank without Violet. It’s, like, a ten commandment.”

“I’ll go.” Frank nodded in confirmation.

“Thank you!” I embraced Frank. “Thank you,” I said into this drenched hair.

Notes

I appreciated all the readers and comments! You guys are amazing. Thank you, darlings. (:

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-christy-