Frankie: wanted nothing more than a cold soda after another night of drinking. Her legs had carried her through the hallways of the hotel as she searched for a machine and finding it was like she’d found heaven. The trip back wasn’t so heavenly, however, as she found herself in confusing maze of hallways with doors that were all identical. But she breathed a sigh of relief once finding her room. Frankie slid her key into the door and pulled it out, using her other hand to push down on the knob. When the door didn’t open, the girl let out a frustrated sigh. “Okay, flip it over,” she muttered to herself, fumbling with the card to do just that. Still locked. “’Kay just... open sesame..” she whispered, now turning the card in every direction possible. She let out a groan as she continued to push up and down on the knob, hoping that it would jar open for her. “Guys it’s broke! Just let me in.”
featuring ↮ zig novak, frankie hollingsworth
timeframe ↮ monday, september 28
location ↮ the ravine
triggers ↮ n/a
notes ↮ zig wants to meet frankie hollingsworth after knowing “frankie cooper”
To say Frankie was riddled with nervousness was an understatement. She had been the most comfortable with Zig and now it was the complete opposite. It had been happening ever since school started when she’d see him -- the guilt of lying punched at her gut and the fear of an argument, anything to point out that she was wrong, brought it all on. Deep down, the girl knew that she was wrong to have lied to him for so long, but she also felt the need to justify it every time. She had her reasons, even if they weren’t the best or most understandable. So deciding to meet Frankie Hollingsworth had to mean something for Zig, considering just weeks prior he was saying he wanted nothing to do with her. And she was aware of the fact, which made her all the more nervous about the meeting. What if he doesn’t like this Frankie? was all she could think, despite telling herself that the two were one in the same. Her small legs carried her through the Ravine and she noticed a few familiar faces, giving them a knowing nod as she approached one of the abandoned cars that were scattered about the wooded area. It was secluded enough that they shouldn’t have been bothered, but not so far out that they’d end up lost in the woods. Most people used the vehicles for sex and the idea of doing that in one of them repulsed Frankie. So she pulled out a small blanket from her bag, enough to cover the hood of the car, to protect her clothing from any bodily fluids that might be present. She climbed up onto the hood, finding a position to sit in that wasn’t uncomfortable, before pulling her phone out of her pocket. A quick text was sent to Zig’s number explaining where she’d be and she shoved it back into its place, only somewhat ready to play the waiting game.
Zig had questioned himself extensively about whether or not meeting up with Frankie would be worth it in the long run. The two hadn't spent any time together in person since before the day he witnessed her at the Dot with Miles and Mr. Hollingsworth, a sight that had left Zig feeling like he'd been punched in the gut and which prompted him to ignore her calls and texts afterwards. A small voice in the back of his head had told him that ignoring the girl wasn't the answer, but there was a bigger part of him--mostly his ego--that considered it the only option. After a few hours and several cigarettes, the boy decided against canceling on Frankie and headed towards the Ravine. He had been there before, but only a few times. The Ravine was Wild One territory, and even if the Outsiders were welcome there, they were just as happy hanging out in their own spaces. Zig's phone buzzed his pocket just as he had entered the spot and began to wander, but he didn't have to check to the message to figure out where she was because he had walked far enough to see her in the distances. Shoving his sweaty hands into his pockets, Zig ducked branches and moved around trees to reach her, avoiding eye contact as he silently sat himself next to her. Half of him rested on the blanket, trying to keep a comfortable distance between the two, even if 'comfortable' wasn't an option. "So are they here? Your friends?" Zig questioned. He had kept his head down as he maneuvered through the Ravine, avoiding the gazes of anyone nearby.
Frankie’s hopes were mixed as she watched Zig maneuver his body to reach the spot she’d picked out. One second they were high and the next low. She didn’t expect her stomach to be tied in as many knots as it was, but when he started getting closer she knew that the feeling wasn’t going away. Her brows pressed together as she continued to watch him, noticing the deliberate space left between the two once he joined her on top of the hood. Her nerves weren’t calmed by him not saying a word, either. Frankie didn’t really consider the people that she knew there her friends, although they were acquaintances at some level. She didn’t want to lie, though, even if it was a small white lie. “No. I don’t know, not the close ones, anyways,” she settled on an answer, deciding that it was enough. A light shrug of her shoulders followed, even if he still wasn’t looking at her to see it. Frankie pulled her lips between her teeth, running through a list of scenarios to attempt to play out to make this meeting at least a fraction less awkward. She decided to pull her legs up towards her body before turning to face him and crossing her legs in front of her. “Frankie Hollingsworth,” the niner stated, extending her right hand to him.
Zig was a little relieved to know that Frankie's closer friends weren't there, because knowing they were would have made him more anxious and wary to relax with the girl if he had to worry about people looking on and knowing what had transpired between the two. The silence that fell between them after she answered did little to ease Zig's mind, and he only raised his gaze to look at her when he noticed her moving around. With her hand extended to him, Zig blinked, momentarily confused as he glanced down at Frankie's hand, but he quickly realized her point and offered a crooked grin. "They call me Novak," he said in a joking tone, taking her hand in his. "Zig Novak," he continued, furrowing his brows for a dramatic flare. Touching her, even just touching her hand, after so long was a strange adjustment. He tried not to seem as bothered by it as he was when he pulled his hand down, even though it probably showed. "So what's a Hollingsworth doing in the Ravine? Shouldn't you be taking... ballet classes? Piano?" As mocking as he may have sounded, Zig was genuinely curious. He hadn't questioned her status as a Wild One when she was just Frankie Cooper.
Frankie wished she was patient in awaiting Zig’s reaction to her handshake, but she was far from it. Every second that passed felt like an entire minute and it was driving her insane to say the least. But when he moved to take her hand and to go along with it, she exhaled an inaudible sight of relief. Seeing a grin on Zig’s face only helped relax her. “Weird name,” Frankie quietly muttered, remembering her thoughts from the night she’d first met him. She had briefly forgotten Zig’s ‘no touching’ comment, however didn’t think a handshake would have been that big of a deal until she noticed his indifferent reaction to it. She remained silent, though, not wanting to bring attention to any more awkwardness than was necessary. At his question, she couldn’t help but to slightly smirk. “My parents would love that,” Frankie began answering him, allowing both of her hands to lazily fall into her lap. “But I got kicked out of every ballet class they tried putting me in.” She pressed her lips together to avoid laughing at the memory, knowing it probably pissed her parents off more than anything at the time. “I wasn’t exactly cooperating and the tights and tutus weren’t doing it for me.”
Listening to Frankie talk, Zig momentarily forgot the gravity of their situation and his confusing feelings towards her. It was surprisingly easy to listen to her talk, just as it had been when they were together, but it felt like listening to someone completely new. He squinted his eyes in an attempt to imagine a smaller Frankie in a tutu, a thought that caused him to chuckle. "That was probably for the best," he said, "I've seen you try to dance. You're not very coordinated," he went on to joke, continuing to offer her his crooked smirk in hopes that would relieve some of the tension. Granted the times he'd seen her dance were when she was drunk or high, he couldn't help but think she wouldn't be all that graceful sober either. All the talk about dancing reminded him of Homecoming at the end of the week. He bit the inside of his cheek as he argued internally about whether or not to bring up the situation with Zoe. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to go ahead with it. "I think we're really going to win," Zig told her, "thanks to me anyway."
Frankie’s mouth fell open in feigned shock at his words. “Hey! You can’t dance either, hotshot,” she reminded him with a tilt of her head. “And who knows, maybe if I actually wanted to do it then I would’ve learned by now.” The girl wasn’t entirely sure that that would be true, but she wouldn’t lose sleep over it either. “Win?” Frankie repeated in confusion before realizing what he was talking about. She hadn’t expected the conversation topic to shift, but if it mean she didn’t have to spend the entire day telling Zig about every detail of her life, she was totally fine with it. “Homecoming, right. So have you been talking to the Artists? I got Jonah on our side but I don’t know about the rest,” she shrugged, glancing past Zig. “Plus me being a..” Frankie paused, not being able to help cringing before continuing, “A Power Cheer member, officially, is helping them think that I want one of them to win it, or something.”
Zig turned his head to the side and gave her a pointed look. "I didn't take ballet lessons," he reminded her in a mocking voice, though the corners of his mouth still twitched with the need to crack a smile. "What's your excuse?" Zig chuckled as he spoke, unable to keep a straight face in the moment. He gave a firm nod to confirm he meant Homecoming. "What else?" he joked, then immediately continued, "Artists? Oh, uh.. No, I had a different idea," the boy admitted. Before he could offer up his plan of attack with Zoe, Frankie's words spilled out and cut him off. He barely caught the end of what she said, but the first few words--Power Cheer member--caused his mouth to fall agape as he glowered at her. "You joined Power Cheer?" Zig asked a little louder than anticipated, wide-eyed and obviously a little weirded out at the thought.
“My excuse is that I’d rather play in the dirt than try to learn Point,” Frankie shot back, mimicking his own expression. At his reaction to her plan, the smile remained on her lips. “Not really,” she tried to assure him with a nod. “Zoe has this stupid idea that she can turn me into a Princess.. I guess because of my family. So she wanted me to sit in on a practice and apparently Becky liked me?” Frankie was unsure of the entire situation herself as she spoke - her plan was going so smoothly, something she hadn’t expected, that it all seemed too made up to be true. “They want me to do the routine on Friday.. like, the big routine they’ve been working on for weeks that has to be perfect?” Frankie was grinning at this point, not being able to mask her excitement of the plan. “Sucks for them, though, because it’s going to be a disaster,” she concluded, covering her grin with one of her hands. Once her amusement settled, she let her hand fall back into her lap as she looked over at Zig. “But what’s your plan?”
Zig listened intently as Frankie explained herself, his brows furrowed in slight confusion but the expression eased she went on. Relieved to hear Frankie hadn't actually joined the team for the sake of joining, his shoulders eased. He looked on knowingly at her comment about Zoe's expectation to turn the Wild One into a Princess; if Zig hadn't spent so much time with Frankie, he would've had similar expectations for Miles's sister. He straightened up at her question, "I mean, I was gonna do what you did," Zig began, "Join Power Cheer and everything... but they wouldn't take me." The male feigned a pitiful look of disappointment as he stared off into the distance, eventually glancing back at her with a smirk. "Mine's a lot less work than yours. I told Zoe I'd get my people to vote for her if her people voted for me," Zig explained. "She just doesn't know we're not actually voting for her."
“Oh?” Frankie quipped, raising her brows in amusement at the boy. It gave her the idea to sneak an extra uniform out of the closet for him to wear to help her ruin the routine, but for now she decided to keep that to herself and be attentive as Zig told her what his plan was. However when he was finished, her eyes were narrowing in his direction. The girl should’ve been thrilled about it, but something wasn’t adding up for her and she didn’t understand why. “How did you get Zoe to agree to get them to vote for you? She’s like, obsessed with my brother,” Frankie questioned. Her confused expression somewhat relaxed before she went on. “Or is she that obsessed with a stupid piece of plastic that she’s willingly voting an Outsider to win?”
"I dunno," Zig admitted, shrugging. "She started asking what she had to do to get me and my friends to vote for her," he explained. "And I guess that was the price." He furrowed his brows and gave a quick laugh. "It makes sense..if you really think about it. About as much sense as her and Becky letting you be a cheerleader," the boy quipped. He tried to ignore Frankie's comment about the other girl being obsessed with Miles, mostly because that brought on an entirely different subject that needed to be avoided at all costs. Hearing Miles referred to as Frankie's brother was enough to make Zig squirm, but he did his best to hide his discomfort. "So what are you gonna do to screw up the routine?"
Frankie slowly nodded along. “So she is desperate for a piece of plastic. I don’t know if it’s funny or sad, really,” she shrugged, deep down not truly caring either way. The niner fought back a grin as she leaned forward to smack Zig’s arm. “I’ll have you know that Becky said I was surprisingly not bad and could keep up,” she jokingly defended herself. “And I’m sorry for breaking your no touching rule but you deserved that.” Frankie reached for her bag and stuck her hand down into it to begin digging around for something. “Sadie thinks I should kick someone if they throw me up in the air... but you know I don’t really feel like being mobbed by some pom poms in front of the school,” she smiled to herself once her hand found the bag of Skittles she was feeling around for. Pulling it out, she quickly ripped the packaging open to grab some of the pieces of candy. “I was thinking of letting the other team know the full routine,” Frankie suggested, popping a Skittle into her mouth. “I’ve got plenty of time to record it or something seeing as I have to spend all fucking week with Zoe.”
Zig's eyes widened, his brows quirking up as he ducked to the side in an attempt to dodge her hit, though her fist still grazed his arm. "No kidding! Must've been those ballet lessons," he retorted, now grinning widely at the girl. He still couldn't imagine Frankie as an actual cheerleader, but if she planned on throwing her spot, he didn't really need to. His chuckling eased at her apology, prompting Zig to shake his head. "No, it's cool, I probably always deserve to get smacked." He glanced down at his hands in his lap. "That wasn't really the no touching policy I was going for anyways," he said, this admission more quiet than anything he'd said before. Looking back up, Zig's features contorted at the idea of Frankie kicking one of the girls in the face and getting mauled. "Yeah, uh.. don't do that," he replied, "they probably wouldn't let you have the crown if you knocked a Power Squad member out." Zig tilted his head to the side and looked at her for a minute. "Where did this come from? Wanting to beat Zoe so bad?"
“Have I told you that I hated you lately?” Frankie rhetorically questioned him with a knowing smirk. She could barely make out what he said next, though once she figured it out, she decided not to let it affect her mood. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t want to do that in the Ravine anyways, it’s hard to tell what you’d catch,” she confidently stated with a prompt nod. Her neutral expression was once again morphing into a smile as he spoke, something Frankie thought she should have been holding back. “Not just her,” she assured the boy. “I don’t want any of the Princesses to get it, but she’s the only one campaigning her ass off to win.” Frankie took in a breath as she began repositioning her lower half so that she could rest her torso against the windshield of the car. Her reasoning went beyond it being a simple high school election. “They just.. think the world owes them everything, like they’re better than everyone just because they think they’re popular. It’s stupid. I just want to knock them off their pedestals.” Taking in a breath, Frankie popped a few more Skittles in her mouth, still speaking while she chewed. “They don’t deserve everything just because they have money except for someone to take it all and force them to act like normal human beings for a change.”
"Noted," Zig responded with a grim expression his face, shifting his gaze around the surface of the vehicle after Frankie's comment. He was wary for their conversation to get too deep, especially if it involved their relationship or lack thereof, so he allowed the subject to drop there. Zig sucked in his bottom lip as Frankie went on about the Princesses and how she felt about winning, all of which he couldn't deny. Smiling softly, he fiddled with his hands. "You sound like Bianca," he commented. The boy craned his neck to look back at her as she leaned against the windshield of the vehicle, considering leaning back with her. When he considered what laying next to her used to mean, he decided against it. "You're right," he said decidedly instead, ignoring the urge to lean back. "They're so.. mean. And for no reason. I mean, I guess I'm kind of a tool to them sometimes, but that's just cause they were like that to us first, y'know?" That wasn't entirely true. Zig hadn't garnered the attention of Katie and her lackeys until after becoming an Outsider, but he was still no stranger to the cruelty of high school before then. "And anyway, yeah, it's not just Zoe, or Prince or Princess or whatever. Imogen's up for Miss Degrassi, and I want her to get it," Zig went on, smiling to himself when he thought about how happy his best friend would be to be recognized. The smile faded after a moment's pause. "But she's up against Katie, which is a bigger deal than just Zoe or Becky."
“Is that a good thing?” Frankie quietly questioned. “Sounding like her, I mean.” The younger girl had spoken to the senior a handful of times and they seemingly agreed on a lot of, if not most, things. But whether or not that was actually a good thing was a different story, although Frankie would think it had to be. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she noticed Zig not following suite in laying down. Not being around him for so long had made her forget that things really weren’t like they used to be. So to mask her sadness, she decided to continue shoving Skittles into her mouth, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “It’s not even meanness they’re just.. cruel. For no reason, like you said. So they deserve for you to be a tool to them, don’t feel like you have to justify it,” she told him. “But I want her to win too,” Frankie admitted to Zig as she looked up at him. She hadn’t exactly kept it a secret that she was going to vote for Imogen, but she also hadn’t really spoken to Zig about it, either. Or even the fact that she daily conversations with Imogen about the boy sitting right beside of her. “But I think she might get it. More people like her than they do Katie anyways. I like her. And I know I’ve been telling people to vote for her,” she added before extending the bag of Skittles towards Zig to offer him some.
"Of course," replied Zig without hesitation. "You both have pretty strong opinions," he added, which was also mostly a compliment. He preferred to be friends with people with solid beliefs versus those like the Princesses or Athletes, who followed rules for the sake of doing what they were told. Bianca and Grace were undoubtedly unspoken, just like his mother, and even if Imogen was more quiet about it, she had her own set of beliefs to abide by. It was no wonder Frankie fell in with the group of women that were already in his life, even if she wasn't what he had originally thought. "Really?" Zig asked, perking up slightly. He wasn't necessarily surprised to hear that Frankie would vote for Imogen. After all, what was the alternative? "Thanks.. y'know, on behalf of Imogen," he said, glancing back at her again with a genuine smile. "I don't think she would really care about winning as much as knowing people cared enough to vote for her," Zig went on, about to turn his head back when he noticed the extended bag of candy. The soft smile on his face turned to a coy smirk as he took the bag from her hand and poured a considerable amount into his hand, waving the bag as he handed it back to her and chuckled. "You owed me some," he reminded her, referring to the many times he had spotted her for snacks in his mom's store.
Frankie pressed her lips together, preventing herself from smiling too brightly. Despite the strong possibility that it comment didn’t mean much to Zig, it did to her. If she sounded like one of his close friends, that had to mean he didn’t fully hate her, right? Or at least that’s what she was hoping. Deciding not to dwell on it, she immediately nodded her head the best she could to his question. “Really,” she repeated. “She doesn’t want them to win either,” Frankie instinctively mumbled, her eyes slowly drifting up to him. “I mean, that’s what she told me.. that we couldn’t let them win,” she added, feeling the need to explain. The last thing the girl needed was Zig thinking she was running around secretly talking to his friends and then lying about it to his face. Her body somewhat relaxed, though, when he took the Skittles from her. “Hey!” she playfully snapped, watching as he poured what looked to be the rest of the contents into the palm of his hand. Frankie made a face as she snatched the bag of candy back from him. “As long as you didn’t take all the red and purple ones,” she warned him with a narrowed glance.
Zig smiled absently and nodded in agreement, too distracted by the conversation to note Frankie's exact words at first. When it occurred to him just what she had said, his brows furrowed. "She told you that?" Zig asked, confusion in his tone. "I didn't know you guys... talked," he said, suddenly unsure of where he was going with the statement. Why wouldn't the two girls talk? Drew was Imogen's boyfriend now, an idea that still made Zig shudder, and regardless of what had transpired in the weeks before, he could only assume Drew and Frankie were still close. Still somewhat uneasy that Imogen had never mentioned talking to Frankie before, Zig welcomed the distraction of Frankie's Skittle worries. Zig made a show of rolling his eyes and popping the Skittles into his mouth. "I didn't take the time-- the time to sort them out," Zig managed to say through a mouth full of sugary candy, a few of the pieces falling out of his mouth as he attempted to cover it and keep them in. Laughing as he spoke and struggled made it harder.
“Mhm,” Frankie softly hummed. “Sometimes, not a lot. But this was mostly about the plan for homecoming, so it’s not like we’re really like.. friends, or whatever, you know?” And she really didn’t consider them friends, at least not yet -- it was more so acquaintances who talked a little more than the average. She watched as he shoved most of the Skittles into his mouth, scrunching her face up at the sight. It was only made worse when the Skittles came falling out of his mouth as he tried to speak. “Zig, you are disgusting,” Frankie told him, despite the full smile that was present on her lips. She pushed herself up from the position she had grown comfortable in, beginning to pick up the pieces of candy that had fallen out of Zig’s mouth. Spotting a red one, she made an overdramatic huff. “Look at this!” she exclaimed, holding up the piece in front of him as though he’d done something terribly wrong. If they hadn’t already been in his mouth and covered with saliva, she would have happily thrown the candy back at him. But instead, she decided to throw them over into the ground without a second thought, wiping the spit onto the fabric of her pants. “You wasted perfectly good Skittles for absolutely no reason. Red ones, too,” Frankie said, now in a mocking, disappointed tone as she shook her head.
"You don't have to do that," Zig told her as she scrounged to pick up his mess. His mouth was still full, but he was at least starting to make a dent in the mess of candy in his mouth. He felt a little bad that she was so quick to clean up after him. Even though it was something she had always done, he couldn't help but think that she was doing it now to show how nice she could be in comparison to lying to him. Once he had managed to chew and swallow the Skittles, he offered his own pout as he eyed the fallen candy on the ground. "I didn't waste them," he corrected her, "you did. I totally could've still eaten them if you didn't throw them in the dirt..." His eyes wandered between the wasted candy and Frankie's face, his sad expression eventually easing into a smile. "You know it's okay, though, right?" Zig asked suddenly, switching the subject back in an abrupt fashion as he used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. "If you wanted to be friends with Imogen. She's very... friend-worthy," he said, his grin softening. "So are you."
Frankie looked up at him as he spoke, though his voice was extremely muffled due to the mouth full of candy. “I know,” she lightly shrugged her shoulders. Part of her was unsure whether or not he meant that she should stop doing it altogether, but it was instinct for her at this point. “You don’t want to eat anything that fell here,” she countered with a raised brow. “Especially if it fell out of your mouth. The five second rule doesn’t apply to stuff like that. So you definitely wasted them. I mean, eating them all at once should count as that, too, because you don’t even get the individual flavors.” Though the topic of conversation was unexpectedly normal, she was enjoying what she could of it because for a few seconds, she didn’t have to think about why they were having this conversation in the first place. To no surprise, the comfortability was short-lived. Frankie gave an uneasy smile at what he had to say next. “Friend-worthy. Right,” she softly repeated to herself, deciding to lean back against the windshield. Her eyes drifted up towards the leaves on the branches above the car before she closed them altogether. “I really suck, don’t I?” she finally questioned after a few moments of silence between the two, making sure her eyes remained shut as to avoid his gaze. “I mean I tried to get my friend to beat you up and here you are, telling me I can be friends with yours, and they’re already nice to me when they don’t have to be.”
Zig scoffed at Frankie's dismissal of the five second rule, a rule that happened to be his favorite and the only one he followed regularly. Unfortunately, he could see her point as he looked around once more at the sketchy piece of metal they sat on. Still, he couldn't help but put up some form of argument, giving her a sly expression as he spoke, "'Cause individual flavors don't matter when they all taste the same." It was an argument he knew they had had before, during the summer when she was Frankie Cooper and the two were a happy couple. He chuckled at the memory, even if it made him a little bit sad to look back on. His expression turned to one of confusion at her statement. Zig looked on at her, somewhat speechless by what she had to say for herself; he had never imagined she would ever acknowledge any of that, not in front of him. "You don't suck, it's just.. what you did, that sucked," he retorted, looking on at her with contorted features. Wrinkling his nose, he shrugged. "It's not like you ruined a good thing with me and Drew. We have other issues," Zig muttered, referring to the Bianca and Imogen situations. Despite telling Drew he'd let it go, he hadn't so much let it go as much as he had just stopped talking about it. "Why wouldn't they be nice?" Zig questioned. "You lied to me, not them." While the comment itself was biting, his tone was light and harmless.
Frankie pressed her brows together at his argument, unaware that it was one they’d previously had. “You cannot seriously say that the nasty yellow ones taste like the red ones, that’s total bull,” she defended the flavor, only half ignoring his chuckle about the situation. When she slowly opened her eyes and noticed Zig looking at her, she pressed her lips together. She knew he was right, although she thought he was also wrong, because the niner did think she sucked. It wasn’t something she liked to dwell on, in fact she tried to block it out as much as possible to forget it. Frankie wasn’t fully aware that Drew and Zig had their own thing happening, though it was something she could have easily assumed. He was with Zig’s best friend, after all, and she knew Drew’s threats had already left a sour taste in his mouth. “I don’t know, because they’re your friends and I fucked you over? I mean it’s not like you broke up with Drew and yet he was still willing to pound you,” she finally mumbled with a sigh. “I wouldn’t be nice to someone who did what I did.” Frankie brought her hands up to her stomach, beginning to toy with the fabric of her shirt as she mindlessly stared back up at the treetops above them. “I shouldn’t have. Done any of that stuff, I mean.”
Zig couldn't stop himself from letting out a few loud bits of laughter at Frankie's clear passion towards Skittle flavors. He held his hands up in defense as though to wave an imaginary white flag. "You're right, you're totally right," Zig said, appeasing her. "The yellow ones are dirty little bastards." He narrowed his eyes for emphasis, eventually allowing his features to ease. He understood where Frankie was coming from. If she were to have brought this up a few weeks earlier, he would have absolutely expected that his friends shun Frankie for her behavior, but considering he had done everything he could to keep the situation from his friends, Zig had lost out on the opportunity to be mad, and despite his best efforts, the anger he had been feeling towards Frankie had started to blur in with his sadness. It was making him pretty confused. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't have dated Drew in the first place," he shot back, trying to add some more humor to the conversation. "No. You shouldn't have," Zig agreed without hesitation. A sad smile formed on his lips. "But hey, water on the bridge, I guess. It's just high school, right?"
Frankie gave a knowing glance towards Zig with a raised brow. "I know I am," she stated with confidence. The Skittles argument was the only thing that the girl had felt truly comfortable enough with so far that she could really be herself -- so that the conversation could be anything like they used to be with Zig. It was something that was forced and it definitely wasn’t something that she had to get advice about from Imogen. Frankie then rolled her head to the side to fully face him. “I wouldn’t have let Drew date you anyways,” she somewhat returned his smile, trying not to let it falter as she did so. "I guess so. But nobody warned me that it was going to suck so badly," she muttered, attempting to pull the corner of her lips into a bigger smile. "I haven't even been at Degrassi for a month and I'm already ready to graduate." Frankie was still wishing that her parent’s would have listened to her last minute requests to send her to a different school, despite the fact that she was sitting right next to the reason she wanted to transfer in the first place. “But does that mean you don’t hate Frankie Hollingsworth as much as you hate Frankie Cooper?”
"I don't think I'm Drew's type," Zig commented, a dig at the other male's relationship with Imogen. He noted her attempt to keep the conversation light and smiled at her as a thanks, though he wasn't sure if she could translate that he was doing so. He had no argument for the high level of misery she mentioned about Degrassi. The few few months of his time at Degrassi in grade nine were somewhat of a blur. His time at the school didn't seem to matter until he had met Imogen and become an Outsider. "At least you already have friends," Zig pointed out, trying to offer some form of comfort. "I didn't know anybody at Degrassi when I started out," he admitted. "I wasn't always just this badass that everybody wanted to talk to." Zig offered a grin as he spoke his last statement, another attempt at humor, but her question wiped the smile off his face. He turned his head to stare ahead, licking his lips as he considered her question. After a few seconds, Zig finally leaned back against the windshield beside her, turning his head to look at her. "I don't hate either of them," he admitted.
“Maybe not,” Frankie concurred, not having really known what Drew’s exact type was. From her experience, it was anything that had legs and a set of boobs, but she decided not to get into that. Zig did have a point as he went on: she had the Wild Ones. But it wasn’t like she’d always known them, either - she only knew them a couple of months longer than she had Zig. She was quick to reach up and cover her grin as he continued to speak. “Badass..” Frankie softly repeated once removing her hand. It may have seemed like he was tough to people who didn’t know him, but the niner had spent enough time around him to know that he was the complete opposite, at least in private. “Riiiight.” Her body tensed as he eventually mimicked her position against the windshield, her eyes glancing to make sure that he had left the same amount of space between the two as he had done when they were sitting on the hood. To say Frankie was relieved at what came out of his mouth next would’ve been an understatement. And now she was unsure whether or not she was supposed to thank him for that, or how she was even supposed to respond. She let out a heavy breath of the weight that had been on her shoulders, turning her body so that she was laying on her side to face him. “Good. Neither Frankie’s hate you, either.”
Zig raised his head off the glass to eye the girl, his forehead wrinkling as he furrowed his brows. "Are you saying I'm not a badass?" he countered sarcastically. His eyes shifted about her face, trying to gauge her reaction to what he had said. He assumed it was what she wanted to hear, considering almost all of their other conversations revolved around her defending what her choices. Even if he wouldn't admit, there was a part of him that could see why she had done what she did - he had made his dislike of Miles apparent the first time they met, but he still couldn't completely dismiss her lying, even if this was a good start. He mimicked her action and rolled over to face her as well, resting his forearm beneath him to separate his bare cheek and the warm glass. "Good," he replied softly, gazing at her. He bit the inside of his mouth to keep from smiling as he looked on at her. Taking a deep breath, the boy looked between Frankie and the trees above them. "I should probably go," Zig told her. "I told Ma I'd work a couple hours tonight." There was a brief pause where Zig deliberately avoided looking her in the eye, if only to gain the courage to speak again. "I could use some company..."
Frankie over-dramatically shrugged her shoulders at his question as she shook her head. “I didn’t say anything, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she innocently feigned ignorance. Her eyes remained on him as he rolled onto his side as well, some of her built up tension finally being relieved seeing him make himself comfortable as well. Frankie was about to open her mouth to speak, to tell him that she totally understood why he needed to go, when the sound of his voice broke the silence instead. Her brows rose in confusion. Did he just ask her to come over? She took a moment to process the question as she pushed herself back into a sitting position. It definitely wasn’t the smartest decision she’d make if she said yes; however, she knew the regret would eat her alive if she denied him. “I feel like.. this is the part where I’m supposed to say no,” Frankie quietly began, swallowing the lump that had started to form in her throat. Her hands reached for her bag, shoving what was left of her Skittles inside before she turned to look down at Zig. “But I don’t want to say no,” she nodded, the corners of her lips turning upward. “And I do need to replace my candy.”
Zig had a lump in his throat in anticipation of her response. It seemed like a no-brainer, especially if she was as determined to win him over again as she made it seem, but her pause said something different. He hadn't expected to get as nervous as he did, but following the lump, a knot in his stomach also appeared in the time it took her to answer. Confused, Zig's eyes followed her as she moved up. Why would he want her to say no? Did she think this was some weird trick question? A little surprised that Frankie thought he was even capable of that level of complication, he breathed an inaudible sigh of relief when she agreed and appeared to begin getting ready to go. "Good," was all he could manage. He smiled and sat up, sliding off the hood. There was the smallest urge to take her hand and lead her out of the woods, but he didn't want to jump too far ahead. As good as he felt now, he didn't know how he'd feel looking back on the day, so instead he decided to wait for her to take the lead. "Ladies first," Zig said with a confident grin.
After winning her at the date auction, Zig and Frankie have their first date. (Takes place 3 weeks ago).
Zig almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the smoke detector going off, nearly knocking over the candle in the center of the table he had been trying to light. He looked down at the table he had prepared and then went back into the kitchen to pull the pizza out of the oven. The smoke hit him as soon as he opened the oven, but the boy grabbed a towel and stuck his hand in regardless, pulling out the hot dish and placing it atop the stove. Once he had silenced the alarm, he peered down at the crispy pizza with a look of concern. A better word than crisp was burnt, but Zig didn't want to admit to himself than he had burnt an oven-ready pizza on his first official date with his first official girlfriend -- particularly when that girlfriend was Frankie. Zig was still inspecting their crispy dinner when he heard the doorbell ring, followed by a hesitant knock. Glancing around the open space to see if he was forgetting anything, he tentatively picked up the cooking sheet with the pizza on it and delivered it to the dining table alongside the candle and plates he had set up. After the second knock at the door, he rushed to the front of the Moreno house to let Frankie in. It had taken quite a bit of pleading between both Imogen and Zig to convince Mr. Moreno that he was actually trying to impress a girl and not just burn down the house -- although in light of the smoke detector he had just turned off, the latter was entirely possible. Stopping at the front door, Zig looked down at his clothing. It was the nicest t-shirt and pair of dark jeans he had. He nodded to encourage himself and then pulled the door open, undoubtedly smiling like an idiot when the opening door revealed his girlfriend. "Hey," Zig greeted, stepping aside to let her in. "Did you find the house okay? I know you've never been here," he went on. "At least I don't think you have..." He laughed nervously.
Frankie's nerves hadn't fully set in until she stepped off at the bus stop closest to the Moreno house. She had successfully distracted herself on the multiple bus route, however now there was nothing to occupy her mind besides the dark, cold walk ahead of her. The girl's footsteps were slow as she eyed the various house numbers trying to find the one she'd scribbled on the palm of her hand. It wasn't a difficult task, although there was no hesitation for her to prolong the process. Despite eventually finding the house, Frankie awkwardly stood on the sidewalk in front of it. Her stomach had already begun doing flips from just being this close to her first date. She took in a deep breath and decided to bite the bullet, taking quick steps towards the porch and ringing the doorbell as soon as she made it there. Unsure of whether or not the bell worked, she swiftly followed it a precautious knock. When there wasn't an answer after a few seconds, she did it again. She quickly looked up when the door swung open, her eyes slightly widening at the sudden movement. "Hi," Frankie grinned, immediately using one of her hands to cover her mouth out of embarrassment. "Yeah! Yeah. I did," she nodded before stepping through the front door frame. "I haven't," she then lightly shook her head, beginning to unbutton her coat. Slipping it off, she awkwardly held it in her hands, not knowing what she was supposed to do with it. Frankie's brows twitched together as she looked around the house, the smell of burnt food still fresh in the air. Pressing her lips together, she turned back to Zig. "Is something burning?" she softly questioned.
Zig watched Frankie step into the house with a mindless grin on his face. It took several seconds for him to notice her coat awkwardly draped across her hands, and an extra moment for it to dawn on him that he should offer to take it. "Oh, uh, you can give me that," he said, his brows lifting as he extended a hand and took it from her. It was no different from her holding it awkwardly besides the fact that it was his turn. As he led her towards the dining area, Zig glanced around for a spot to put it, ultimately deciding on an ottoman against the wall. Zig's eyes widened at her question. "What?" he asked, mostly buying time. He shoved his hands into his pockets and let out an anxious laugh before ultimately shrugging. "Sort of," he muttered. "It was, but I finally remembered to take it out." Zig chuckled, leaving out the part of his story that involved the smoke detector. "It's just pizza so I hope you like yours extra crispy," he teased. Being with Frankie in this context was new to him. Waking up every morning and knowing that the two of them belonged to one another was still a strange concept to accept, though he never would have phrased it that way to her. Now that the two were an item, he couldn't remember why he had fought his feelings for so long. Even so, he didn't miss the awkward tones that rested among some of their interactions now. "Are you hungry now? If you're not, we could... talk? Yeah, talking's good!"
A mumbled "huh?" fell past Frankie's lips as she felt Zig take her coat from her before following it with a slow "okay". The boy's manner's were definitely catching her off guard -- they were the complete opposite to everything she'd ever learned from him. She willingly followed him, not wanting to get confused in the unfamiliar house. When she heard his answer, Frankie attempted to fight the new grin emerging on her lips. She didn't want to embarrass him by laughing at the situation, but there was no way the girl couldn't find the humor in Zig 'cooking' something. Neither of the two were the type to operate anything in a kitchen besides a microwave. "I like any kind of pizza," she began, letting her face relax as she looked over at him. Taking a few steps towards him, she loosely wrapped her arms around his waist. "But I bet I'll like it the best if it's from you." Frankie took the opportunity to push herself up onto her tip toes to give Zig a kiss on the cheek before nodding at his suggestion. If she could put off eating a burnt pizza she would, even if she had told him she would love it. She removed her hands from his waist, reaching to take one of his hands in hers. "We can talk. About.. whatever! Yeah, about whatever," she finally said, smiling up at him.
Zig grinned proudly at her statement. "Cool," he declared absently. He felt a small wave of relief to know she didn't mind that had slightly screwed up the dinner for their first actual date. If she wasn't going to worry about it, there was no reason for him to worry. His eyes followed her as she moved closer, her tiny arms draping themselves around his waist. "You know I don't mean to brag or anything," Zig began, rolling his eyes upward for emphasis, "but I am the pizza master. You're a lucky girl tonight... luckier than usual, anyway." She was so much shorter than him that he had to crane his neck downward to get a good look at her mouth, but before he could give her the first kiss, her lips touched his cheek, prompting an entirely different smile from the boy. Clasping her small hand in his, he looked towards the dining table. Was he supposed to pull her chair out? Was pulling her chair out too much? "Do you want something to drink?" Zig asked, pushing his worries about the chair away. He was absent-mindedly rubbing his thumb over the top of her hand as it rested in his hand, his eyes searching hers. "There's juice and Coke and stuff in the fridge..." The boy trailed off, realizing he wasn't sure what drinks his girlfriend liked aside from hard liquor.
"The pizza master who sort of burnt the pizza?" Frankie countered, curiously raising her brow. Though most people would disagree with Zig calling her lucky in these circumstances, she knew that she was. She was with the guy she wanted to be with and was the happiest she'd been in months; no one's insults directed at either of the two being together was going to change that for her. Her eyes fell to their hands when she felt the subtle movement against hers. Butterflies instantly erupted in Frankie's stomach, causing her to only halfway hear what Zig had offered her. "Coke is good," she finally decided, knowing juice would more than likely taste awful with pizza, especially a burnt one. Being in Imogen's house, Frankie realized that she didn't know what the proper etiquette was to use. At her house, she would have grabbed whatever she wanted and she figured she would have been just as comfortable doing the same had they been at Zig's house. "Should I just.. get it, or.." she quietly trailed off, biting down on her lower lip.
"Hey, sort of is a really important part of that sentence, okay?" Zig returned her look with the corner of his mouth twitching upward into a smirk. He tightened his hold on her hand in the moment that he saw her look down at his thumb rubbing her hand, his signal to her that the action was purposeful. Zig had no experiencing in how to act with a girl in an actual relationship, but many of his actions with Frankie came surprisingly easy to the male. He knew they had done things a little bit backwards, but at least he could say he loved her, even if he wasn't all that smooth at expressing it. He raised a brow as she lingered beside him rather than going to the kitchen, but when he sensed her hesitation, his eyes widened. "Oh, uh-- yeah! Yeah, just go get it," Zig said, waving towards the kitchen. "It's in there." After he spoke, he realized how ridiculous he sounded considering the kitchen was visible from where they stood. "Nobody's here. Nobody besides us, anyway," he chuckled. "Imogen went to her grandma's house with her dad, so it's just us for the night." He pursed his lips and averted his gaze to the ground, feeling his face flush at the admission.
Frankie rolled her eyes at Zig, shaking her head. "Whatever you say, pizza master," she grinned. The tightening hold on her hand caused her to immediately return it as she glanced up at him, her grin softening into something more pleasing. Frankie kept her hold on Zig's hand as she walked towards the kitchen, beginning to tug him along behind her. As clingy as she may have felt, letting go of his hand just wasn't something she wanted to do yet. Once she reached the refrigerator, she was swift to open it with her free hand and grab two bottles of coke for her and Zig. "So.. if they're gone does that mean we're free to make out without it being weird?" she questioned as she turned to face him, using her foot to close the door of the fridge. The idea of hooking up with Zig in someone else's house was both thrilling and terrifying to her and she doubted that she would have even been able to go through with it if they got to that point. "Or we can just cuddle and watch TV after we eat," Frankie then suggested, extending one of the Cokes towards him.
Zig allowed himself to be pulled towards the kitchen with Frankie leading the way. Though his general demeanor with her beforehand had been one of aloofness, he was now almost always stuck with the same goofy expression on his face whenever the two were together. He took a bottle of coke from her with the hand that wasn't clasping firmly to hers. At the mention of making out, Zig blinked. "Yes? No?" He fumbled to speak, a little flustered. He laughed uneasily and looked around the house. He was never one to turn down an offer to make out with his girlfriend, but doing so in Imogen's house seemed a little... dirty, for lack of a better word. He eased at the latter suggestion. "Yeah," he agreed and smiled. "We can work our way up the fun ladder," he joked. Realizing how idiotic he sounded, Zig forced himself to release his hold on Frankie's hand and just went for his earlier dilemma: pulling out her chair. He avoided her eye contact as he did so, his cheeks still flushed from earlier. He glanced up coyly at her and nodded towards the seat, his hands planted firmly on the back of the chair. "We should eat. Burnt pizza can't stay hot forever, you know."
Frankie watched with curiosity as Zig became flustered in front of her; she hadn't expected it from him, considering how smooth he always seemed to be around her. The girl didn't know what kind of answer she wanted to hear from Zig but she found herself being okay with either one of the two. "The fun ladder?" she couldn't help but to laugh, shaking her head. She allowed him to release her hand, immediately bringing both of hers together in front of her. Frankie rose a brow at Zig's actions, confused but ultimately accepting it. "Who knew you were such a gentleman?" she softly teased with a grin. As unfamiliar as she was with this side of Zig, she could already tell that she was going to enjoy it. It was different, but a good different for her. Moving towards the chair he'd pulled out, she sat herself down. "I would say we could reheat it if it did, but.. then it would probably be like, solid black wouldn't it?"
Zig: only flushed further at her comment, unsure if she was impressed with his action or just teasing him. Either option was entirely possible, making his movements a little more hesitant as he dropped his hands to his side and moved to sit in his own seat beside hers. He pretended to scoff at her question. "You wouldn't eat my pizza if it was a little black?" Zig questioned, offering a face of faux concern. After a moment's pause, he added quickly, "But yeah, probably." Shifting his eyes towards the pizza on the table, he stared at it for a moment then bit into his bottom lip. "A knife," Zig said suddenly, "we probably need a knife.." The status of this date as his first had to be showing by this point. He didn't know if Frankie had figured that out, but he was too embarrassed to bring it up. What sophomore guy hadn't been out on a date? Before Frankie, he would have been happy to boast about the women he had hooked up with but not dated. Now it was a piece of information that threatened to ruin her opinion of him; he knew that was ridiculous. She already knew nearly everything about him. Rising from the table, he took a step towards the kitchen and then stopped, pointing to her. "I'll be right back," Zig said before disappearing back into the kitchen to find a knife powerful enough to chop the crisp dinner.
Frankie watched with curiosity as Zig sat down beside of her rather than across the table. She had wanted to ask him to sit next to her but feared looking clingier than she already had. "I already told you I'll like any pizza from you, even if it is black," she rolled her eyes, relaxing into her chair. "A knife?" Frankie turned her head to look at him as he broke the short silence before nodding in agreement. She kept her eyes on him as he got up from the table in search of said knife, her hands awkwardly fiddling with the hem of the table cloth. Once he was out of sight, Frankie reached for the bottle of Coke that she'd gotten earlier. Her hands had quickly grown clammy as the date progressed and she was sure that her nerves were going to get the best of her. Wiping them on the fabric of her jeans to get them as dry as she could, she then twisted the cap of the bottle off. Sugar and caffeine probably weren't the best things to mix with her growing nervousness but it didn't stop her from taking a few large gulps of the soda. Frankie allowed her eyes to glance around the room as she waited on Zig to return, wondering what the Moreno household was like when the Morenos were actually there.
Zig searched the kitchen for a few minutes, opening every drawer he could find. There were several knives that were contenders in the contest for cutting his pizza, but ultimately Zig decided on the biggest and meanest looking knife he could find. Before he left the kitchen, he paused to look down at the knife in his head. "Okay, Novak, don't cut your finger off," he muttered to himself before heading back out to the table where Frankie sat. "Found one," he said to her when he was in earshot, raising the knife for her to see. He immediately lowered it when he realized what a strange action that was. It took Zig more than one try to cut the pizza, and the slices were uneven, but he had surpassed the opportunity to make this perfect. Grabbing a piece for himself and putting it on his plate, Zig sat back down beside Frankie and fiddled with the piece of pizza on his plate before taking a bite. Between small, crunchy bites, his eyes drifted back to her as he spoke. "Do you like the house?" Zig asked. "Sorry I don't have my own place to have dates, but Imogen takes good care of this one at least," he added.
Frankie 's face contorted when she saw the size of the knife Zig had brought back. "What, there wasn't a bigger one?" she questioned once he approached the table and began cutting the pizza. Hearing the crunch every time he put pressure on the pizza caused Frankie to press her lips between her teeth to avoid letting out a laugh. Making him feel worse about the pizza was the last thing she wanted to do. She allowed herself to relax once more and reached for a slice of her own. "Mhm," Frankie nodded at his question. Although she hadn't seen much of it, she wasn't going to negatively judge it; it seemed nice enough for her. "No, it's fine," she shook her head before taking a bite of the hard pizza. Her lips turned upward into a grin with each loud chew, no longer being able to disguise the humor she found in it anymore. "You don't need your own place to have dates.. I mean here is fine, or my house, or your house," she shrugged after swallowing the food.
Zig didn't notice the loud crunch that chewing the pizza made until Frankie began eating her own piece. He stopped in the middle of a bite to look over at her, at first assuming she was doing it to mock him. When he realized it was just the natural work of the burnt pizza, Zig felt another flush hit him, though he couldn't help but laugh. Her positive answer made him smile, but it faltered at the mention of his own apartment. Realizing he had yet to explain the situation to her, he panicked internally. "My house.. right," he muttered. "We're always at your house," Zig said quickly, trying to direct the subject elsewhere. "Besides, I couldn't cook for you at your house. I bet your parents wouldn't like that, and your kitchen is probably as big as my whole room at home," he laughed.
"What's wrong with my house?" Frankie inquired with a furrowed brow, though immediately shook it off, knowing he probably felt uneasy every time he was there. "My parents can suck it," she rolled her eyes, taking another bite of the pizza. After washing it down with some of her Coke, she let out an annoyed sigh. "You can do whatever you want in my kitchen. What's that thing they say? Something casa.. casa, whatever? Like that," Frankie nodded. "'Cause like, my parents are hardly ever there anyways and it's not like they really ever use the kitchen themselves. Just as long as you pay attention when you put stuff in the oven," she teased, nudging his arm with her elbow closest to him. Bringing the slice of pizza back up to her mouth, she began attempting to finish it off.
"What? No, nothing! I didn't mean it like that." Zig pushed out a relented sigh. There was nothing he could say about the Hollingsworth home without sounding wrong on some level. He couldn't mention it making him uncomfortable without upsetting her, and he couldn't express his fondness of the home without seeming like he was just using the girl for a mansion to go to. A little surprised by what she said, he looked up with wide eyes before snorting. "Don't tell them that," he joked. Zig's nose wrinkled. "Casa? Huh?" The point was lost on him, but before he could inquire further, she was talking about something else. His nose still scrunched, his brows knitted together. "That doesn't make sense. How do you guys eat if they don't use the kitchen?" Zig asked, dumbfounded. All the eating they did when he was there was snacking in Frankie's room, but there had to be real meals in the Hollingsworth home, right? His shoulders fell. "C'mon, the pizza's not that bad.." As he spoke, he bent his piece on the plate and watched it crack in half - quite literally, leading to an embarrassed chuckle from the boy.
Frankie turned her head to eye Zig, giving him a knowing look. "You really think my parents are the ones who cook all the food we eat?" she questioned, leaning back in her chair. "I don't know why they're so worried about me messing everything up when it seems they have everyone fooled with their 'perfect family' act," Frankie then mumbled to herself, rolling her eyes once more in the process. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth before immediately releasing it with an inaudible sigh. "There's a cook.. or cooks, I don't know, it's stupid. My mom doesn't even cook anything when we have stupid family parties during the holidays, she just has them catered and it's --" The girl stopped herself, suddenly aware of the small tangent she'd gone on about her family. Her face flushed uncomfortably and she gave an awkward shrug of her shoulders. Frankie had never liked talking about her family to anyone and always made a point not to with Zig, but now it seemed like an unavoidable topic. "It's not. I love the pizza," she stated. She reached for another slice and brought it up to her lips, taking a crunchy bite.
Zig furrowed his brows in confusion at her retorted question, but when the words started pouring out, he realized where she was going with it. In all the time they had known each other Frankie's family had always been a sensitive subject, even when they were just screwing around. Zig didn't know how to take her sudden outburst. He felt a wave of relief that she finally trusted him enough to speak her mind, but it was quickly squashed by the realization that he couldn't do anything to comfort her about it. Looking down at his plate, he smiled softly. "No, you don't," Zig argued, "You're just saying that because you love me.. Right?" He lifted his head up. "Maybe it's okay that your mom pays people to feed you guys. It probably just means she's a really crappy cook," Zig said, offering a small smirk as he spoke.
Frankie could feel her face growing hotter with every passing second that her boyfriend remained silent. It was enough embarrassment to make her want to get up and leave if she was confident enough that her legs would even hold her up. Once he began to speak, she kept her eyes lowered. So maybe she didn't love the taste of the burnt pizza, but she did have a different kind of love for it. One that she couldn't fully explain to Zig even if she'd wanted to. "I'm saying it because I love you and because I love pizza and because I love that you made a pizza for me," Frankie countered after swallowing what food was left in her mouth. "Moms are supposed to be able to cook and do other mom stuff, not pay people to do it. But I don't want to talk about her 'parenting' anymore and I'm sorry for bringing it up," she added on, placing the half-eaten slice of pizza back on her plate.
Zig's smile widened. Doing nice things for a change was a new concept to him. Even during instances when he had done something for Imogen or Grace, he didn't put his full effort into it because he knew he messed most things up. And even though he had screwed up the pizza, it wasn't for a lack of effort; the fact that Frankie recognized that and appreciated the simple gesture made his stomach and chest feel warm and full, a feeling he couldn't summarize without sounding like an idiot. He pursed his lips and returned to silence when she dismissed her mother as a topic. Bringing up his own mother crossed his mind, but he quickly squashed it. He didn't want Frankie feeling worse than she already did. "Let's see you make a better pizza next time," Zig said, his tone challenging. "We could have a pizza off. Or a macaroni off. Or... We could just eat a lot of food." Zig chuckled. He reached out and touched her hand with his as a sign of his fondness for her presence even in his moment of silly joking.
"Oh, you don't want me trying to make a pizza," Frankie quickly responded, shaking her head at the idea of her trying to successfully make any kind of food for the two. "It wouldn't even be edible. Like, remotely." Thinking to herself for a moment, she pressed her brows together. "Or maybe you do want me trying to make a pizza just so you can win," she concluded, using her one of her index fingers to playfully poke him in the chest. When she felt his hand on hers, she reacted by turning it upward so that she could lace her fingers with his. Frankie then leaned over, lazily resting her head against his shoulder. "I never thought any of this would be happening," she softly mumbled. "Me and you, like this, you know? It's kind of weird.. but, I like it," the girl continued, feeling as though she was mostly speaking to herself. From her past with Zig, to everything everyone had told her about him and her feelings towards him, Frankie had practically convinced herself that it was entirely useless. "And I'm glad that you're the one I'm doing the awkward stuff like first dates with," she grinned, looking up at him.
Zig raised his index finger and waved it in front of her. "Hey, no ruining the master plan for me," he told her jokingly. "Besides, if you're such a bad cook, you can't laugh at my burnt pizza." Lowering his gaze to the charred remnants of cheese and sauce on his plate, he pushed out a sigh. "If you can even call it that..." When her head touched his shoulder, he instinctively leaned his down to rest on hers. It was a little painful to be craning his neck far enough to make it possible, but he didn't mind. Heat spread up the back of his neck as she spoke. "It's really weird. Like... weirder than weird. But the best weird." Zig looked down to return her gaze. "And me too. Because you're the only person who would've gotten what I just said," he laughed, "or that would eat the pizza I kill."
Frankie scrunched her face and rolled her eyes. "I can laugh at your burnt pizza, because you burnt a pizza. But you could laugh at mine, too," she explained with another grin. Carefully manuevering her body so that she was out of her chair and in Zig's lap, she let her legs hang off either side of his chair as she faced him. She brought her hands up to his shoulders, letting them loosely rest against the fabric of his shirt. "I don't think anyone but us gets us," she shrugged. It had been annoying for her to receive criticism about her relationship from almost everyone she'd come in contact with, despite hardly any of them personally knowing anything about it, though it wasn't enough for her to truly care about their comments. "But I'm okay with that because it's our relationship, not theirs." Frankie leaned in to press a quick kiss against his lips before relaxing into his lap. "Your pizza wasn't that bad, but we can go ahead and skip to the movie if you want."
Zig rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't have made you pizza if I knew you were so picky," he replied, but the corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk. Once she was positioned in his lap, he placed his hands on her hips and smiled at her, wrapping his arms around her tiny middle and pulling her body in. He realized that Frankie got the brunt of gossip about everything that happened, whether it be the abortion or their relationship. If he could have changed that he would have, but he opted to stick with protecting her. Zig lifted a hand and brushed some stray hair behind the girl's ear just after the kiss broke. "I like us," Zig said quietly, looking back down at her mouth. He kissed her once more before replying. "Do you think we can watch the movie just like this?" Zig inquired with a lifted brow, squeezing her small frame.
Frankie allowed herself to be pulled closer to Zig, adjusting her lower half accordingly. "I can't be too picky if I'm dating you, right?" she attempted to question with a straight face, though it faltered almost immediately. "Kidding, kidding. I like us too." A light sigh of relief fell from Frankie's lips as she eyed the boy who was only inches from her face. Her stomach erupted with butterflies but she kept her cool, staying relaxed in his grip. "I don't think we can see the TV from in here," she teased, tilting her head to the side in feigned confusion. She slowly connected her hands together behind his neck, keeping her gaze on Zig. "But I'm sure this," she paused, using her eyes to survey their position, "can be arranged on the couch."
Zig made a face that signaled mock interest at Frankie's sense of humor. The two had always been sarcastic towards each other, but their approaches had shifted from being snarky to being playful. He never knew he could enjoy the dynamic of a relationship so much. Before accepting how he felt about Frankie, Zig had done everything possible to stay unattached, and now he couldn't remember why. "I like us more," Zig cooed, smiling as Frankie's cool hands touched the back of his neck. He turned his own head to the side, opposite hers, and pretended to consider her proposition. "Do you think the couch can handle our level of cuddling?" Zig asked, his face completely serious through the joke. "It's not as big as your bed.. or your couch," he mused aloud.
Frankie mimicked Zig’s expression, though it was even more over-exaggerated than his. “You sound like a little kid,” she grinned, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “But I like us most,” she quickly countered as their faces were still close together. Taking in a deep breath, she released it with ease. She was becoming more comfortable with being around Zig like this -- like normal, functioning people -- as the time passed, although he still caused consistent butterflies in her stomach. Once Frankie finally leaned back into her original position, gently narrowing her eyes at him. “Something tells me if this chair can handle it, the couch should be okay,” she stated with a nod. “But I don’t know.. I mean your butt is pretty big, so...” Frankie trailed off, raising both of her brows.
Zig offered her a mocking scowl. "Fine," he said with furrowed brows, "but you win the battle, Frankie. Not the war." He wiggled a warning finger in front of her before smirking and lowering his hand back to her side. This type of interaction was far different than anything the two had ever done before a few weeks ago. Prior to then, the two couldn't even be around each other without being drunk or just fighting. Looking at Frankie now, Zig wondered silently to himself if that had been a sign that they loved each other a long along. Some part of Zig thought maybe he did, but he didn't want to put that into words and risk sounding like a fool. At her faux insult, Zig's jaw fell open. He gaped at her with wide eyes, struggling to keep the smile off his face. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Zig chided, giving her a nudge to move her small frame off of him so he could stand up. "If you love me, you have to love the butt too!"
“Oh I’ll definitely win the war,” Frankie stated in a matter of fact tone, the expression on her face equally as confident. It softened within a few moments of watching his reaction to her ‘insult’. Rather than admitting he was right and that she already did, she stayed quiet, glancing down at his gentle nudging. Frankie scrunched her face, taking the hint to climb off of his lap. She gave a simple shrug of her shoulders at his request, turning her head to look away from him for a moment. Once she could tell he was up and out of his chair, she took a step forward to give a swift and firm smack to his butt. A large grin emerged on her lips as she quickly turned away from him to run towards the living room, not bothering to wait and see his reaction to the hit.
"Little too confident for someone your size, don'tcha think?" Zig questioned with squinted eyes and a small smirk. Any other couple acting the same way would have been him roll his eyes, and he was almost certain Frankie felt the same; but between the two of them, it just felt normal. Having someone to be stupid with was better than he had expected. Her hand's swift connection to his backside genuinely surprised him. He widened his eyes and turned to follow her retreating form without hesitation, chasing her into the living room and catching her by the waist as she neared the couch. Zig pushed her onto the couch playfully, hovering over her but being certain not to crush her. As he pinned her arms above her head, he narrowed his eyes. "That's it. No more Mr. Nice Zig," he said seriously, "are you ready for your punishment?" Zig gazed at her with a serious expression for a few seconds, then leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose dramatically.
Frankie let out a squeal as she felt Zig’s embrace from behind her. Once she hit the couch she rolled into her back, immediately being met with the boy’s face. The view was something obviously familiar to her, although it wasn’t taking her long to realize that she enjoyed this variation of it; the simplicity of it was fun and she knew she wouldn’t have to leave after a few minutes. She attempted to keep from grinning as she looked up at him, allowing him to do whatever he wanted. At his question she grew curious, slowly nodding her head the best that she could. She had assumed that with her arms above her head he would’ve tried tickling her and was relieved when she only received a kiss to the nose. She couldn’t help but to quietly laugh before pushing her chin upward to meet his lips while he was still close to her.
Zig smiled against Frankie's mouth as her lips met his. He lowered his body slightly to touch hers, deepening the kiss. When he was finally ready for air, he pulled back but kept his face close. "I told you the couch couldn't handle it," he teased, speaking quietly as his face still hovered just over hers. He glanced between her and the TV across the room. "We probably can't watch the movie like this," Zig stated, raising a brow. He laughed to himself and then carefully climbed off of her so as not to crush any part of her body, including her legs. He took a seat beside her and pointed to the Moreno's collection of DVDs. "You have to pick if you don't wanna watch a scary movie," he told her.
Frankie could feel her heart begin to race as the pressure of Zig above her became heavier. She had no intentions of going any further than what they were doing and she didn't think Zig did either, however it didn't prevent her from getting an anxious feeling in her stomach. "We haven't even gotten to the cuddling yet," she softly responded. "And I wouldn't care to watch it like this," she then grinned. It quickly turned into a pout as she felt Zig move off of her and she sat up, adjusting herself until she was in a comfortable position. "I don't feel like picking," Frankie shrugged, turning to look over at Zig. "But if it's a scary movie then that means I'll want to be closer to you, so.." she trailed off, tilting her head.
Zig smirked as she spoke. The happiest he had been with her before revolved around physical activity so it was weird to him that just watching her smile could elicit so much joy for him. Exhibiting a face of consideration, he pursed his lips and turned his head to the side. "You're just looking for excuses to take advantage of me, Francesca," he said in a playful but dramatic voice, then Zig smiled and got to his feet, walking over to pick a movie out. His eyes scanned the selection, looking for the movie most likely to scare her into his arms.
Frankie invites Zig over after a night of drinking with one thing in mind but begins to confess her feelings.
Drinking away her problems was never something Frankie ever imagined herself doing but here she was, five shots deep in a bottle of her parent's Grey Goose with no intention to stop. Earlier on in the day, her therapist had suggested she finally open up to her - something the young girl had yet to even do since their meetings began. It reopened Frankie's unhealed wounds, something she was extremely unprepared for. Rather than spending the rest of the day crying, though, she decided on a better option for herself. The girl typically got high to forget about everything, but since Miles took it in his own hands to get rid of the stash she had and Luke no longer supplying her, the easiest route for now was to drink. Her eyes were already drooping as she stumbled over to her bed to grab her cell phone. Frankie swiftly unlocked the phone with her thumb and went straight to her text messages, eying the brightly lit screen until she found Zig's name. A lazy smile tugged on her lips as she began furiously typing a message to the boy. "Ziiiggy Zig Zigmund," she slurred to herself as she hit the send button. Satisfied with what she'd written - or attempted to write - she lay her phone back down on her covered mattress.
Zig sulked into his room with his head bobbing downward in a shame, a direct result of his mother's scolding. If anyone bothered to add up the minutes and hours Mrs. Novak spent getting on to her son for slacking off or breaking rules, they would have been truly astounded that nothing seemed to set in. Even though he knew he would be back at it the next day, her words still hit him like a sledgehammer, the weight of his guilt crushing his head and his chest as Zig closed his bedroom door and took a seat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. Just as he began to consider what his mother had been mad about this time, his phone went off. He might not have even checked it if weren't out of pure habit. Zig's finger glided over the lock screen and clicked the text message emoji, which was illuminated with the number 1 to alert him of a text. Raising an eyebrow at the slur of words on the screen, Zig did a double take to make sure the name was what he thought it was. Zig hesitated for a moment, wondering if he wanted to get into this tonight, but the sound of his mom stomping around outside his bedroom door gave him the nudge he needed to go back to the message conversation and type his own response. He hit send before he had a chance to question it further - "r u drunk?"
Escaping Zig wasn't just something she could do and she was slowly realizing that herself, no matter how much she wished she could. It was impossible, really, given her past with him that all started out as an intoxicated decision. Drinking definitely wasn't something that helped her problem, considering it caused her to ramble on and on about Zig to anyone who would listen and now, text him when she knew she shouldn't have. Frankie waited impatiently for her phone to 'ding' and inform her that she had a response. In her state, it felt like she'd been waiting hours when in reality it had been last than five minutes. She instantly perked up at the sound, grabbing the phone and laying down on her stomach as she read what Zig had sent back. She couldn't help but to grin and nod. "nope" was the first response she typed back to Zig; however, it was quickly followed up by a "just al ittle bit of durnk!" Typing on a tiny screen while under the influence was still something Frankie had yet to master. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, her thumbs beginning to type away yet again. "jjust come overp lzidc anymore and im home laone ;)" was sent and she dropped her phone down on the bed in front of her, glazed eyes staring at the screen.
Zig didn't need confirmation that Frankie was drunk to know it was true, so he smirked at her first text and the girl's lazy attempt at denial. A strange sense of nostalgia hit him as two more texts came in, the small conversation bubble popping up one after the other. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the glowing screen, his stomach in knots at her invitation. Just like that, it was several months ago, and Zig was getting a drunken, presumably promiscuous invite from the only female Hollingsworth at Degrassi. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Zig typed out his response: "i don't think my mom really wants me to go anywhere. sorry." Zig read and reread his possible response several times before ultimately deciding to backspace the entire message. He chastised himself for assuming there was anything sexual about the invitation. Remembering what the two had gone through, more specifically what she had gone through, Zig took a deep breath and typed a new message that read simply "okay" before he pushed himself up from the bed and began to fumble in the laundry for a hoodie or jacket that would keep him warm. Drunk or not, Zig didn't want to be the one that rejected Frankie in her time of need, and considering she was the one who had put a stop to their ritual hook-ups, he had no reason to believe that anything worth remembering would happen. Grabbing a green sweater from the bottom of a pile in the floor, Zig put it on and moved silently towards his window, wincing as he pulled the creaky window up and paused to make sure the noise hadn't stirred his mother before he ducked out of the window and began his climb down the side of the building, his phone dinging away in his pocket.
Frankie watched as the bubble with three dots remained on her screen and then disappeared before letting out a sigh of annoyance. But once they returned she was quick to grab the phone and hold it again, another grin on her lips as she read his response. "rge front odors unlcoked" she replied in one message before typing another - "jsut come pu to my bedorom thats whree i am ok?" Suddenly becoming aware of what she was wearing, Frankie shook her head. It really didn't matter what she was wearing, considering this was Zig and sober Frankie knew that he never paid attention to clothes. Drunk Frankie, on the other hand, wasn't thrilled with the pajamas she'd already changed into. Pushing herself off the bed, the girl walked over to her dresser and pulled the top drawer open with ease. Her hands dug around the various fabric until she found a matching set of white lacy undergarments, causing a grin to tug at her lips. She tried to quickly change outfits, although struggled with getting the articles of clothing both untangled and securely clasped on her body. Minor adjustments were made as she stared at herself in the mirror, tilting her head to the side at her reflection. "Just gotta.." she mumbled to herself, using her hands to make her breasts more prominent in the push-up bra. Once Frankie was satisfied with the way she looked, she moved to her closet to grab a thin black robe to cover herself and loosely tied the string around her waist. She straightened out the fabric as she moved unsteadily towards her bed, plopping her body down on the comforter.
Once he'd made the climb down from his bedroom window and his feet touched the concrete, Zig pulled his phone out his pocket to see what else Frankie had to say. He shook his head at the messages, stuffing the phone back in to his jean pocket as he mumbled under his breath, "Great." Sneaking in to the Hollingsworth home was a little different than getting in and out of his mother's apartment -- there was far more nooks and crannies and people for Zig to get around when it came to the Hollingsworth property. One would think he'd be more used to it by then. The male sucked in a breath of frigid winter air and glanced up and down the isolated street, a surprising site on this side of town in the late hours of a Friday night. Zig began the long journey across town to Frankie's location, ducking his head as he walked in front of his family's store front just in case Mrs. Novak was lurking in the store, counting money or cleaning. By the time he reached the appropriate part of town and saw the mansion coming in to sight, Zig's nose and the rest of his face were all but frozen solid. He gritted his teeth to keep them from chattering and considered getting his phone out to text Frankie he was there but decided against it, too anxious in the cold to move his hands out of his pockets. All it took to get to Frankie from that point was scaling a wall the size of China, trying to keep quiet as he opened the gigantic wooden front door, and bolting for the nearest staircase that would get him up to Frankie's room. When he finally made it to her door, Zig stopped dead in his tracks and just took a moment to soak in the warmth, removing his hands from his pockets to look at them. Even stuffed in the depths of his jeans, they were red and swollen. Glancing around the empty hall, Zig twisted the doorknob and pushed it open. "Frankie, you better not be passed out," he whispered, his voice harsh. "It's cold as fuck out there," he continued, well-aware of his bitching but unapologetic since he was the one who had just braved the Canadian cold for this.
Frankie rolled over at the sound of her door opening, smiling as she saw Zig step into her room. "Ziiiiig!" she strung out, pushing her body so that she was sitting upright. "You can warm up with this," she suggested, reaching for the bottle of vodka from her nightstand. As she attempted getting off her bed with ease, various sounds of frustration were emitted underneath her breath. "S'not whiskey or anything but it's good," Frankie then nodded, making slow steps towards Zig to keep her balance. Her eyes narrowed the closer she got, noticing the redness in both his hands and face, which caused a frown to pull at her lips. The weather coupled with the fact that Zig walked to her house rather than took the bus had completely slipped her mind. "Sorry.." she mumbled apologetically, extending the bottle of liquor out for the boy until he took it off her hands. "But if you don't want that, I can warm you up," the young girl grinned, her hands beginning to fumble with the string of her robe to get it undone. It was only a matter of seconds before she let the fabric drop to the floor around her feet, leaving her almost naked in front of him. Frankie had not forgotten what she'd told Zig; she very well knew that it was hypocritical to be taking it back for the second time, but at this point she'd lost any care that she had. With people, her brother among them, calling her anything from a slut to a whore, she figured she might as well make it true - it wasn't as though they were going to stop anytime soon, anyways. She looked up at him with a raised brow, leaving it up to him to decide what to do next.
Zig wrinkled his nose at the sight of the vodka bottle. It wasn't what he'd expected the tiny brunette to be drinking, but then again, one wouldn't expect Frankie to put away any heavy liquor by just taking a look at her. "I'm good," he told her, immediately waving away the notion as she extended the bottle to him but taking it as she all but shoved it into his handle. Vodka or not, Zig wasn't a fan; he didn't like the taste of alcohol in general, it actually disgusted him. The most he could handle comfortably was beer, but that didn't stop him from pouring liquor down his throat at the occasional party or hangout in the midst of his peers. Zig's eyes were scanning the room for somewhere to place the vodka bottle when Frankie's comment hit him. "Huh?" was all that Zig could manage, his expression showing his genuine confusion at her statement. Before he could ask for confirmation of what she'd said, he was suddenly aware of Frankie's bare body in front of him. His eyes widened. "Frankie, what are you doing?" Zig asked, his voice unsure as he took an immediate step back. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to look at Frankie's face instead of her figure. His left hand still clutching the liquor, he raised his right hand to shield his eyes momentarily. "You, uh," he stuttered, "you said you didn't wanna do that with me anymore. You're just drunk," he continued, suddenly aware of his flushed face and trembling arm.
Frankie felt her lips pull into a frown as Zig rejected the alcohol. "I don't have any weed," she shrugged her shoulders. The girl knew that they rarely ever hooked up while sober, but she was unprepared for her impromptu invitation. Her brows twitched together as she watched him cover his eyes as to not look at her. Frankie's cheeks began to fill with warmth and she girl was unsure of whether it was from the alcohol or embarrassment; naturally, though, she didn't care. She took a step forward to close the gap Zig had created between the two and loosely rest her arms around the top of his shoulders. "Do you not think I'm pretty?" she questioned as she stared up at him, tilting her head to the side in an attempt to catch his glance. "Because I think I'm pretty and I think you're pretty," Frankie mumbled, now tilting her head in the opposite direction. "I don't think I said that," she shook her head, slowly removing her arms from his upper body. "Because I most definitely wanna do that with you," she continued in a slur as she moved her body behind Zig to close her bedroom door. As far as Frankie knew, the only people that were at the Hollingsworth household for the night besides herself were the workers her parents had hired. It still didn't stop her from wanting privacy, however, knowing she'd never hear the end of it if either of her parents found out Zig was over again.
Catching Frankie's gaze for the first time since her offer, Zig began to chew anxiously on the inside of his mouth, his stomach in knots. The two hadn't slept together since finding out Frankie was pregnant and, based on Frankie's request to abstain from it, he had just assumed that it wouldn't be in the cards any time soon. He wouldn't admit it to Frankie or anyone else, but since her appointment, it never really occurred to Zig to seek physical comfort from any female. Frankie had all but given him clear permission to sleep with other girls. Even so, it just wasn't something Zig wanted, something he had done his best to avoid thinking about. "Of course I think you're pretty," he retorted, unable to avoid rolling his eyes at the sheer ridiculousness of her words. "And I know I'm pretty," he added, almost forcing a smirk but stopping when he heard the door close behind him. Swallowing back the lump in his throat, the male turned to face her, still determined to keep his eyes on her face and not on her bare skin - which, conveniently, took up much more space than her eyes. "C'mon, we can do something else," he said, reaching out for her hand carefully so as not to grab any other body parts. He gave a tug, nodding towards the bed. "You could lay down and I could wait 'til you fall asleep or whatever." Zig bit his lip. It was strange making an offer like that to Frankie, like they were friends or like they cared for each other. Maybe they did, but neither of them had ever admitted that out loud. The clenching in his gut told him that he would regret rejecting the girl's advances but his head told him that he would regret taking advantage of her a lot more, especially when he couldn't pretend like Frankie hadn't blatantly told him that she didn't want to sleep with him sober.
"So pretty people fuck each other," Frankie blurted out with a grin, leaning her back on the bedroom door. Her grin widened at the cool temperature now pressing up against her warm skin, not having realized how hot her body felt until now. "Your hand is cold," she whispered as she felt Zig grab her own hand, her eyes slowly trailing down towards the gesture. If it hadn't been for the liquor flowing through Frankie's system, she would have found it awkward, whether she liked the boy or not. She had spent months telling both herself and everyone else who asked that what took place between the two teenagers was just sex, nothing more. Hand-holding, even if just for a few moments, didn't exactly fit in that criteria. Letting out an annoyed and over-dramatic sigh, she trudged behind him towards her bed. "Ugh, you're such a pruuude," she half-whined, half-chuckled. Rejection in the bedroom wasn't something she was used to; most boys jumped at the opportunity to sleep with any girl they could. The alcohol was yet another aid in distracting her thoughts and feelings so that she wasn't getting upset over it, though. If she had been sober, her mind would've dwelled on the fact for days. Once they reached her bed, Frankie didn't bother letting of Zig's hand but instead tried pulling him down onto it with her. "Did'ya know I have a secret?" she questioned as she looked up at him. Grinning, she continued, "okay I have lots of those but this one's 'bout you." Using her free hand, she extended it to give his chest a poke with her index finger for emphasis.
Unprepared for Frankie's sudden pull, Zig's eyes widened as he clunked down onto the bed next her, the weight of her body tugging down on his arm even after they were both on the bed. With an expression similar to that of a deer in headlights, he met her gaze, surprised by how anxious her statement made him. He didn't know what to expect from her, especially in this situation. He didn't have a lot of experience with Frankie in the bedroom that didn't involve him being high or drunk, and taking this all in sober was a lot for him. Her finger in his chest pushed him back. Exasperated by her inebriated state, Zig grasped her wrist to pull her finger away from his body, the pointedness of it surprisingly painful in the center of his body. "You don't have to tell me anything," he muttered, still clutching her wrist. He offered her a quick smile before dropping his gaze. "You'd probably regret it in the morning, anyway," Zig continued, now trying to convince himself more than her. Even his best attempts at being a gentleman were failing as the sheer curiosity of what Frankie was hiding started to gnaw at him. Sighing in defeat, he released his hold on her wrist and adjusted himself on the bed to fully face her, scooting back to give the two of them some space. If the pounding in his chest was any indication, this 'secret' of hers was going to require some space for the two. He had no idea if it would make him mad or just make him laugh, he even wondered if she was just trying to trick him, but there was only one way to find out. "What is it?"
Frankie pouted as she felt Zig's hand on her wrist, retracting her index finger into her loose fist. "I regret a lot of things," she was quick to counter him, giving a shrug of her shoulders. That much was true, although she didn't feel the need to list off said things for the time being. She was satisfied, though, when he decided to ask her what the secret was. And instead of teasing him with the information, she happily jumped right into it. "Y'know how I told you we shouldn't fuck?" Frankie began, raising both of her hands to put air quotes on the last half of her question. "Well I don't wanna get pregnant again, duh." The girl shook her head, again trying to add unnecessary emphasis. "But thaaat's not the only reason," she grinned. Despite being intoxicated, Frankie's body still filled with a tingly, anxious sensation as she looked over at Zig. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth in an attempt to suppress the grin she was bearing. Her hands reached for one of the pillows at the head of her bed, using it to occupy her fingers as they began twisting one of the corners. "I didn't listen when you said not to care," Frankie finally admitted, her grin unconsciously growing with another shake of her head. "Because Frankie the whore doesn't know how to be a whore because I start liking the people." Her words were still slurring together as she emitted a laugh; feigning amusement from her brother's words had become easier now. "I thought if we stopped I'd stop but boy was I wrong! Doesn't matter though, doesn't matter," she finished, heaving out a deep sigh. Frankie stopped messing with the pillow in her hands to look up at Zig. "Anyways! That's not why I wanted you to c'mere."
The word 'pregnant' caused Zig to verbally wince, the idea of going through all that again sparking a throbbing pain in his skull. The time between that and her actual admission probably didn't even last a full minute, but the time drug on the way Frankie's slurred words did. "Okay," Zig said slowly, confused at first. Was she too drunk to know what she was talking about, or was she just trying to make his head hurt? His nose and forehead wrinkled as he pondered it, thinking over words and trying to think of a way that they made sense. The meaning of her words dawned on him slowly at first, then burst like fireworks in front of his face with such power that he almost recoiled. With wide eyes, Zig looked down at the same time Frankie looked up. He had sweaty palms and a knot in the pit of his stomach, and there were no words to explain what he was feeling. Unfamiliar with the idea of being told he was liked, Zig rubbed his palms on the material of his jeans. The more he thought about it, the harder his head pounded. "What?" he asked, looking up suddenly at her explanation. "I mean, uh, what did you bring me here for?" Zig immediately dropped his glance again, cheeks flushing with shame for his inability to question her further. In all reality, he didn't want to know. If he asked her to explain herself, it would be impossible to avoid when she sobered up in the morning. Realizing there was nothing separating him from her confession and a sober morning, Zig lifted up from his spot and leaned over Frankie to reach for the bottle of liquor on the dresser behind her. "Sorry," he muttered as his body all but pushed her aside in an effort to retrieve the bottle. When he pulled back, he was already unscrewing the lid and preparing for a giant gulp. He choked as the clear liquid hit his throat, the burn of it almost making him gag. Covering his mouth to soften the noise, Zig looked at Frankie wearily. "Sorry," he repeated again. "What-- what were-- what were you saying?" Zig asked, coughing between words.
Frankie couldn't fully detect what Zig's reaction to her confession was - not that she was truly trying to, really. She didn't care and she wouldn't care until the next day when she was sober and realize what she'd done. But for now, her concentration was mainly on staying balanced and sitting upright. "I didn't bring you here, dummy! You brought yourself. Duh!" she told him with a grin, rolling her eyes. Frankie stayed put as best she could as Zig moved past her to grab the liquor, though she slightly turned her head to keep her gaze on what he was doing. A confused expression spread on her face as she then watched him quickly chug down some of the vodka. "I thought you didn't want any," she wondered out loud, curiously raising a brow in his direction. But the fact that he was now drinking soon fled from her mind after she was asked the question. "I wanted you to come so we could fuck again but someone doesn't wanna do that," she stated confidently, beginning to wave her index finger around in the air before allowing it to point directly at Zig. "You just wanna lay around and be boring," Frankie added, letting out another overdramatic sigh as she allowed her torso to fall backwards against the bed. The swift movement caused her head to spin and she scrunched her face, hoping the feeling would soon subside. "Boring, boring, boring," she repeated softly, staring up at boy.
Finally accepting that dealing with a drunken Frankie in his sober state wasn't going to end well, Zig heaved a sigh and took another reluctant gulp of the vodka. "I didn't," he managed to say in the midst of cringing, his face contorting in disgust at the burn of the alcohol. He often took for granted how much he hated the taste of liquor, mostly because he avoided drinking as much as possible. But as Frankie had already pointed out, getting high wasn't an option and Zig couldn't do this sober. Still not quite buzzed enough to take her comments in stride, Zig's brows knitted together at the bluntness of her statement. After a moment's pause, he shook his head. "I never said I didn't want to," he corrected her, his words slow. He followed his statement by tilting the bottle back to his mouth, taking a couple more sips before he was satisfied that the alcohol was starting to catch up to his problems. Cracking a sudden grin, Zig leaned forward and pinched Frankie's side between his fingers with his free hand. "I'm not boring," he spat back with a mischievous grin, eventually leaning over to rest the bottle on the ground. He knew it would inevitably be knocked over, especially with him joining Frankie in drinking, but he didn't care. He needed a distraction, and in his experience, there was no better distraction than having sex with Frankie. "I'll prove it to you," Zig said, adding on to his previous statement before he leaned over Frankie's still body and captured her lips with his.
Zig visits the Hollingsworth house to discuss the abortion for the first time with Frankie. [takes place last Friday].
Zig clenched his jaw and planted his feet firmly in position, stuffing his trembling hands back into the pockets of his leather jacket. He could see his breath in the bitter air as he exhaled, trying his best to convince himself that he needed to turn around and do something else with his Friday night. He could have been making a midnight snack with Imogen, hanging out with Grace, or even bugging Bianca to come over to his place. Those were all better options, safer options, but instead he was gazing forlornly at the massive gates that surrounded the Hollingsworth home. Zig knew he was thinking irrationally, running on emotion, but telling Imogen about the abortion had done more to him than what he had anticipated. This was it. This was what his mother had warned him about, a choice he would make that would burn itself into his soul and make itself inescapable. For the rest of his life, Zig would remember that he had a child that was never born. Did that make him a father? Did it matter that the baby was gone or that it had never actually been gone? Frankie's words replayed in his mind's eye, her voice reminding him that the baby didn't even look like a baby when it had come out of her. But that didn't make it any less of a child, it didn't make it any less his. Knowing his patience was wearing thin and his nerve was due to drop at any moment, Zig forced himself to jump the gate at its lowest point. He had done it many times before, but his shaking hands made it harder. By the time he had landed on the other side and was walking toward the back, it felt like his whole body was shaking. He could practically hear his knees knocking together, but that didn't stop him as he walked around to the back, passing the pool. Zig didn't really have a plan past that point. He stepped back and looked up toward the second floor of the home, wondering for a moment if he could Indiana Jones his way through her window, but he dismissed that idea. He felt broken enough without adding broken bones to the equation. He was reflecting on that painful analogy just as a blur of color from inside the house caught his attention, sending his eyes straight to the large glass door just beyond the dining table outside. When he realized it was exactly who he was looking for, Zig swallowed back the lump in his throat and took a long step forward. He stared at her through the glass, watching as Frankie appeared to be fumbling through papers in the living room, undoubtedly looking for something she needed. He stared so long that by the time he had raised his fist to knock, she was already walking away. "Frankie!" Zig managed to get out in a hushed whisper, as if she could actually hear, followed by another hasty knock on the glass to get her attention.
Smooth sounds of Tibetan music filled Frankie's bedroom as she lay quietly on her bed with her eyes closed shut. It was a new technique that her therapist recommended. Ambient music, mixed with the soft glow of both candles and white Christmas lights, was supposed to calm her down during anxious moments. And although Frankie was against the therapy her parents had signed her up for, she ultimately decided that it wouldn't hurt her to try. That decision was made mostly because Miles had gotten rid of her drugs and razorblades that she typically used to ease the bad feelings for the time being. At least twenty minutes had passed and nothing had changed Frankie's mood, except for the fact that she was more annoyed that it wasn't working. Letting out a huff of annoyance, the girl pushed herself off of the bed. The therapist had given her a list of options to try which, conveniently for Frankie's attitude, had been left downstairs in a folder. Rolling her eyes at the fact that her mom wanted to know everything that went on during her meetings, she trudged down the stairs to hunt for the list. It wasn't long until she began rummaging through various papers to find what she needed. "I bet these stupid things won't work, either," Frankie mumbled to herself as she shoved what she didn't need back into the folder. Ignoring the first ping of the glass, she organized the few pieces of paper in her hands and folded them up. It wasn't until the next few pings that she stopped herself, turning to see Zig standing beyond the glass. "I - what are you doing here?" Frankie couldn't help but to question after pulling the glass door open. She didn't wait for any sort of response, her eyes darting around the room to see if anyone else was present. No matter the reason, she knew that both her mom and dad would be less than thrilled to see Zig at the Hollingsworth house. Her hand grasped the cold leather to quickly pull him inside before shutting the large door behind him. "Look, Miles and my parents don't hate you yet, but if -- nevermind," Frankie swiftly shook her head, having no desire for that particular conversation for the time being. Instead, she continued to tug on his jacket, leading him out of the living room and towards the stairs to her bedroom. "So are you just like, super into not using front doors?" she asked the boy with a light grin once they were in her room, behind a locked door. "Not that I mind, or anything, but.." she trailed off with a shrug of her shoulders, awkwardly biting down on her lower lip. Moving towards her bed, Frankie grabbed her phone to stop the music that was previously playing, tossing it to the side.
Zig fumbled for a response to her question, mostly because he was still iffy about admitting as to why he'd showed up at her house. But the tug on his jacket stifled any reply he would have managed regardless. He trotted in behind her, rolling his eyes at the mention of her older brother and parents. He wanted to say something clever, something edgy, but nothing came out. His stomach was still in knots, his thoughts like razor blades as they trailed back to his conversation with Imogen. Forcing himself back to the present, he made a face at her question. "Uh, when has the front door ever been an option for this?" Zig asked, motioning between the two of them. It's not like he often waltzed into the mansion through the front door. In fact, he couldn't remember a time he had ever seen the front door to Frankie's house at all. He trailed behind Frankie like a lost pup, her hand still gripping the leather of his jacket, which was undoubtedly cold on her tiny grip. On the way up the stairs, his head went back to spinning. He still didn't know what he wanted to say, but he almost spit out words when they made it into her room. Instead, his eyebrow knitted together. "What the fuck was that?" Zig asked, referring to the strange noise that had been coming from Frankie's phone. He shook his head. "Forget it," he muttered, cutting off any chance for her to reply. He took a step forward and sucked in the longest breath he could manage. "What if it was a chick?" Zig blurted out. Realizing the chaste approach he had just taken, he shook his head again. "I mean - what if it was a girl, you know.. It?" Zig motioned to her stomach, only realizing after he had done so that there was nothing inside of it. The mistake made his stomach drop, and he lowered his head, returning his hands back to the safety of his pockets.
Frankie 's body froze at his question, her heart beat beginning to accelerate. She had hoped he wasn't asking what she immediately assumed, although that hope quickly diminished as he repeated himself. It was a topic she tried to avoid since the procedure and Zig was the last person she expected to bring it up now, especially at such a random time. Thoughts about the baby had been on the girl's mind since taking the first pregnancy test; it's gender, what it would look like, which of the two it would be more like. But now that she was no longer having it, her attitude had drastically changed. It hadn't even been discussed in any of her therapy sessions, even if that wasn't the specific reason her parents had put her in it. Turning on her heel to avoid his gaze, Frankie began to slowly walk towards the other side of her bed, trying to buy herself more time. "I don't like to think about it," she softly admitted, a heavy shrug following. She bit down on the inside of her cheek. "Because thinking about it makes it worse and I just --" she shook her head and took in a shaky breath. This was Zig - there was no point in avoiding it with him. It was just as much his business as it was hers and he had a right to want to talk about it. In fact, she should have been grateful that he wanted to discuss it with her, rather than anyone else. "Between the two of us, I think she would have been a brat," Frankie finally stated with a sad smile. "Well, uh.. mostly because of me, but.." she added on, bringing her gaze up to Zig's face. "It felt - I don't know why or how to explain it, but it just felt like a girl."
Zig thought he'd felt better when he got the words off his chest, but he didn't. The tips of his fingers had gone numb, his eyes lazily following Frankie's tiny frame as she moved further away from him. In the midst of their arrangement and what they had just gone through, Zig had somehow started to care about her feelings - that was something new to him. Outside of his immediate group of friends and his mom, he didn't care about anything. Swallowing hard, Zig shifted his eyes back down to his black shoes. "How do you not think about it?" Zig asked, more so to his feet than to her. He lifted his head back at her words, twisting like a knife in his gut. When he'd first found out, all he cared about was keeping the pregnancy from his mother. He couldn't imagine her doing anything but screaming in Russian or kicking him out. But now that it was all said and done, he suddenly wondered what kind of grandmother she would have been. "It.. you felt it?" Zig asked, his brow furrowing. "I mean - did it feel like.. Like an actual person in you?" He felt stupid for not knowing what the pregnancy had felt like for her, but when she'd told him it didn't even look like a baby when it came out, he had told himself it hadn't felt like one either. He hesitated to say anything else, but judging from her face, he needed to say something. "She would've been okay," Zig told her, his voice quiet. "Even if she was half you, I bet she would have turned okay," he continued, almost smirking. "Even you're kinda cool sometimes," the male added, surprising even himself.
"I do, I just.. don't like to," Frankie echoed herself. She let out a sigh as she looked up at Zig. She didn't fully understand why he was standing there or why he had initiated this conversation. It wasn't like him, although the more she thought about it, the girl truly didn't know much about him. "I.." she stammered, feeling a lump beginning to form in her throat. "I tried to pretend it didn't. But then that ultrasound happened and it.. yeah." Sucking in a deep breath, Frankie looked away from Zig once again. Her eyes were starting to produce tears and she instantly tried to blink them away; crying in front of Zig again was not on her list of things to do tonight. But what he said next caught her off guard. The only compliments Frankie ever received from Zig were usually physical ones - ones that happened either after sending him a risque photo, or when she was underneath him. And even then, they were still sparse. She turned to face him, her face a mixture of pleasure and confusion. "Thanks, I think," she responded, pressing her lips together in a half smile. Frankie plopped herself down on her bed, crossing her legs in front of her. "Do you think I did the right thing?" she questioned, both to Zig and herself. "I want to think I did, but.. it doesn't feel like it." She took in another breath as her fingers began fumble with the fabric underneath her. "I mean, you're not going to be stuck with me for the rest of your life, so.. that's a good thing, right?"
Feeling mixed about the way he had just complimented her, Zig only nodded in response to her thanks, even though he didn't think anything he had said was worth thanking. He followed suit and took a seat next to Frankie on her bed, her shoulder touching his arm as he did so. Her question surprised him; regardless of her thought process, he had expected to be the last person she would be asking for reassurance. It wasn't like he had much room to judge. He had wandered onto her property unannounced and presumably unexpected, so maybe Frankie opening up to him wasn't the weirdest thing. "I don't know," he admitted. His voice was tired, passive. As much as he wanted to reiterate to her that the choice was a good one, he had grown tired of trying to convince her the choice was right. He was even more tired of trying to fix himself. Unsure of how to respond to her statement, Zig fumbled with his hands in his lap. "Not like that," Zig said slowly, glancing at her. "But we're kinda stuck in a different way.. right?" At least that's how it felt. Frankie had progressed from being the girl he hooked up with to the girl he had gotten pregnant. No matter what either of them did for the rest of their lives, they would always be connected to each other, bound by what had happened; he wondered if she realized that. "I just.. I keep wondering if - I don't know, maybe she would've had my hair. Thick and black, like me and my ma," he muttered. After being so scared about his mother finding out about the pregnancy, he couldn't even imagine her being anything but supportive now, and it only magnified his strained emotions. It occurred to him for the first time that a baby could have helped ease the pain that his mother felt from being rejected by his sister. Sensing that his vision was suddenly blurred, Zig twisted his neck to turn his face away from Frankie, staring at the opposite wall as he willed the tears away.
"Probably.. I think dark hair is dominant.. or at least that's what the biology text books say," Frankie shrugged lightly, biting down on her lip. Looking up at Zig to see that he'd averted his gaze once more, a pang of guilt filled her. Throughout most of this situation, Zig's feelings hadn't been much of her concern. She had just immediately assumed he would be happy with her decision. There would be no baby; no direct, physical connection between the two running around for as long as either one of them lived. But now she could see that the Hollingsworths weren't the only ones affected by what had happened. "Hopefully she would have had my ears instead of your dumbo ones," Frankie broke the silence, forcing a soft laugh in an attempt to lessen the somber mood. "I mean they're cute, on you, but I wouldn't have wanted her to suffer the rest of her life with them." The small grin on her lips faded at the realization that her methods probably wouldn't make Zig feel less shitty. Frankie was practically incapable of making Zig feel anything other than annoyance, other than the times they were hooking up. "But.." she began, grabbing one of the pillows from the head of her bed and pushing herself up so that she was on her knees. Her hands rolled the pillow up the best she could before shoving it underneath her shirt, another weak smile in place. "We can be thankful that I'm not going to look like this because you wouldn't have wanted to fuck me and I don't think you would have gotten any from the girls at school once they found out about me." Frankie scrunched her face together, not having realized until now that Zig was affected in yet another way. "I'm sorry for that, too, by the way... I mean, if girls don't want to hook up with you anymore because of this whole thing."
Confident that the moisture had cleared itself from his vision, Zig blinked a few times and then turned his head back to meet Frankie's gaze. He laughed at her comment, or at least did his best to release a noise similar to a chuckle, shrugging before he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're right," Zig replied. "But she probably wouldn't have had my ears. Or anything else. Everything on her would've been tiny, like you," he said. Talking about it seemed to ease his mind at first, but after the words had come out and he was left to think about it, the sadness returned and settled in his upper body, weighing down on his chest like a brick. Zig wrinkled his nose as he watched Frankie retrieve the pillow and shove it beneath her blouse. He stared at the bulge in her shirt. It was lopsided and lumpy, but he got the general image. Shaking his head, Zig forced out more laughter. "It's not like everyone knows," he told her. Pausing for a moment, he shrugged again. "Or maybe they do. But girls don't really care about that kinda thing. Not the ones that would sleep with me anyway," he continued, having already turned his head back to stare at his hands in his lap again. "What about you? No one's being shitty to you, right?" Zig lifted his eyes to look at her face, realizing his words implied he would do something if anyone was. And maybe he would. For whatever reason, the experience had changed how he viewed the dynamic between the two of them; if anything, Zig felt compelled to protect her for the sake of the child they would never have.
Frankie felt a small sense of relief when Zig seemed to lighten up and she ignored whether or not the laugh was genuine. "She could have had your eyes, or your nose. Maybe even your smile, but she probably would have known how to use it," she teased, giving the boy's shoulder a light nudge. "People know," Frankie then softly assured him, carefully tugging the pillow from beneath her shirt. It was soon placed in its original position and she sat back down, her fingers resuming to mess with the soft fabric of her comforter. "About me, at least. I don't know if they know about you; everyone thinks I'm a whore anyways." The girl remained silent as he confirmed that other girls would still sleep with him, although deep down she had already known that fact. It was undeniable and she wasn't going to try to be the person to stop it from happening. "Some people are, like the princesses, but.. I've been ignoring it, I guess," Frankie shrugged before toppling onto her side. "I figured you would have been one of them, honestly," she added in a hushed tone as she made herself comfortable in her new position. "But you've been cool about this whole thing which is.. I don't know, it's been cool." Cringing at her lack of vocabulary to describe him, she let out a sigh and glanced up at Zig. "And I never told you thanks for not ditching me and for being at the hospital and stuff, so.. thank you."
"Yeah, maybe. She would have been a real heartbreaker with this smile," Zig replied, flashing one of his own as she nudged his shoulder. The genuine smile quickly faded into something sadder, something that only lingered. It was strange to be talking to Frankie like this. It was stranger to be referring to their child as if she were actually a she; as if it had actually existed. Zig had done his best to pretend that wasn't the case, but sitting there with Frankie made him realize that would be unavoidable from that point on. "You're not," he told her quickly. "You're not a whore." Zig left it at that, avoiding her gaze. In all reality, he didn't know exactly who Frankie had slept with outside of him, and he didn't want to ask. But looking at her, he just couldn't imagine her with anyone else. He shook his head. "You don't have to thank me," the boy replied. "I mean, it was half my fault too, right? I was supposed to be there. It was just.. it was right," Zig continued, once again speaking as much to himself as he was Frankie. He shifted his eyes to look around the room, but they ultimately fell back to Frankie. "And if anybody's got something to say and you're tired of defending yourself or the baby or what happened," he said softly, "you can tell them to come to me." Zig paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "You can tell people it was mine," he added more quietly, holding her gaze for the first time since he had arrived at her house. "If you haven't already, anyway," he added with a shrug.
Frankie rolled her eyes, however was glad to see Zig's disposition had transformed into more of a positive one even if only lasted for a few seconds. She, too, brightened up as he defended her. It was nice to hear, especially out loud, that someone didn't think of her sexual activity so negatively. "Well yeah, but you didn't have to be there and I didn't force you to. Most guys would have bounced the moment they found out," she softly explained. Truthfully, she had assumed that's how Zig would have been. Of course that was the Zig she had grown to know, albeit as skewed as it was. Frankie tried not to press her brows in slight confusion. She had never personally experienced Zig's protective side and part of her wanted to revel in it. But she had to keep reminding herself that this was just under circumstance; if they hadn't made a mistake together, none of this would have even been happening. "Only my family, Luke, and Bianca for sure know it was you. I'm sure others have made assumptions, but I don't want to throw you under the bus, I guess," she awkwardly shrugged. Although Zig had given her permission, she felt as though it wasn't her place to tell just anyone who asked. "But can I tell you something?" Frankie asked, pushing herself so that she was sitting up once again. "Zig, I li.." she froze, mouth agape. She hadn't truly wanted to tell him and couldn't figure out why the sudden word vomit fell out of her mouth. She thought it may develop into real vomit, had she actually finished what her mind was coercing her to say. "Lied. Um, lied about the ear thing, I mean.. I wouldn't have minded if she would've had your ears," she nodded swiftly, unsure of whether or not her save would work on him.
Zig realized there was a different route he could have taken when it came to this situation. He could have ignored the pregnancy or denied being the father altogether, but neither had occurred to him. Whether it was the result of being raised primarily by a woman or if he was just too nice to do it, he wouldn't have been able to go about his life as if nothing happened after he found out Frankie was pregnant. Even now, it was hard to go about his life as if the abortion hadn't happened. "Right, thanks," was all he could say about it. Regardless of what she said about, Zig felt a little guilty for letting Frankie take most of the heat when it came to her being pregnant. After all, she certainly hadn't made the baby alone. He deserved as much judgement as she did, but even Zig knew that's not how high school worked. It was always the girl who took the blame, and to his surprise, Zig felt uneasy letting that happen. His attention shifted back to his present, his brow raising in question as he anticipated whatever she had to say, but when she spoke, his features fell. He narrowed his eyes at her, baffled. "Huh?" He had almost forgotten their earlier conversation. "Oh.. oh, yeah," he muttered, nodding. "Okay, that's fine," Zig said, half laughing at her strange behavior. He made a face before shaking his head, expecting her to say more. When she didn't, he nudged her arm with his elbow. "That's it? I thought you didn't lie," he joked.
Frankie studied Zig's expression. She was skeptical, to say the least, but those thoughts slowly faded once she realized that he wasn't going to question what she almost let slip. She may have been relieved that he hadn't caught her awkward mistake, however it didn't stop her face from heating up with embarrassment. Unbeknownst to Zig, or at least she hoped it was, Frankie's heart was pounding away throughout her entire body. The girl didn't even want to imagine what kind of reaction he would have if she told her, nor the rejection she would undoubtedly receive. Her body stiffened even more than it previously was when Zig was the one to nudge her now. "Shut up," she finally grinned uneasily, reaching her hand up to lightly smack his covered bicep. "I don't even remember telling you that," she truthfully stated, masking her own surprise that Zig had even remembered it. Hearing the faint noise of a car door shutting, the brunette moved from her bed towards her window. She let out an inaudible sigh once spotting her father's car. "You should probably go," Frankie suggested, turning back to face Zig. "I don't think either of us want to hear the lecture he would try to give," she added on, pointing towards the window. She now moved towards her bedroom door, effortlessly unlocking it with one of her hands. "If you go down the hallway, that way," she began, pointing in the direction he needed to walk. "There's another staircase, it's on the back side of the house, but you'll be able to get out on the opposite side of the pool. Does that make sense or do you want me to walk you out?"
Zig's body stiffened at the noise of the car door slamming. He had no idea how Frankie's parents were handling what had happened or if they even cared now that it was taken care of, but considering she had just acknowledged that they knew he had been the father, Zig didn't want to stick around to find out. He gave a short nod as a sign of agreement, getting up on to his feet when he saw her moving towards her door and unlocking it. He rubbed his hands on the front of his pants, having been unaware until that moment that his palms were sweaty. "I can probably handle it," he replied with a tight smirk. "Uh, if not, guess you'll hear the gunshot or the sirens, right?" Not funny, Zig, he told himself as his face flattened before he chuckled at his own lack of humor in the moment. "I'll be alright," he finally said, accompanied by a firm nod. He closed the space between them, planting himself uncertainly in the gap of the open door. He placed a hand on the door frame as he hesitated, looking down at her. Sometimes he forgot how small she really was, but as he stood over her, he was confidently reminded. "I meant what I said.. All of it," he muttered. He wanted to say more. He even felt like there was something more he could be saying, but the sound of what he presumed to be the front door prompted him to stifle that temptation. Without much more explanation, Zig leaned down and kissed Frankie's cheek; it was the closest thing to something genuine he had ever done between the two, and he wasn't completely sure why he had done it. He smiled at her a last time before he released his hold on the door and disappeared down the hall to begin his long, confusing walk back to his side of town.
↠ a beautiful and a terrible thing | zig & frankie
Zig finally decides to confront Frankie about the rumors of her pregnancy, unsatisfied with the answer he receives.
Zig was in a state of shock after finishing his conversation with Miles. If the boy was telling the truth, that meant all the rumors going about Frankie being pregnant were true. Not only that, but the father was Zig. He was unsure of how he felt about the whole thing. Part of him was scared. If Frankie decided to keep this alleged baby, there'd be no getting out of it. Zig would be a father and Frankie would be a mother and that was something neither of them were ready for. Another part of him was angry. Of course Frankie was the one Miles had heard this news from, there were no other possible culprits. From what Zig was told, she'd known for quite some time that she was not only pregnant, but pregnant with his baby. Keeping something like that from someone who was directly involved and was going to be hugely affected by it was unforgivable to Zig. Not to mention, from what Miles was saying, it almost sounded like Frankie was planning to get pregnant and have the baby from the get go, which would explain why she never bothered to tell him. There was no way he'd agree to that. He figured it was best to stop making assumptions from what Miles told him, and go talk directly to Frankie. There was still a chance this was all one big misunderstanding. He decided the conversation was more suited for in-person rather than over the phone, so he grabbed his jacket and headed over to the Hollingsworths'. After knocking on the door a few times and being let in by one of the housekeepers, Zig climbed up the stairs to Frankie's room and beat on the door with one of his fists. "Hey, Frankie?!"
Frankie had been more than exhausted than ever as her pregnancy went on. All she wanted to do was eat, sleep, and throw up - two out of the three, she discovered, hadn't been difficult to achieve. Her wardrobe, too, had changed. Although her stomach hadn't grown in size, she just felt bloated all the time and most of her clothes felt too constricting. Regular bras were also out of the question, considering she was close to no longer being able to fit in them. So as soon as she would get home from school, the girl was quick to change into sweatpants and a baggy tanktop. At the sound of the banging on her bedroom door, Frankie jumped up from her spot on the bed. She'd immediately recognized the voice; it definitely wasn't Hunter or Miles, nor was it her father's. One of her first thoughts was to scold Zig for coming through the front door. If Miles had seen him, it probably would have ended up in some kind of brawl. The tone of his voice and the hard knocking caused her thoughts to drift elsewhere, though. She slowly pushed herself up from the bed, dropping the ink pen she had been using for homework from her hands. Her steps were cautious, but not slow, as she approached the door. "Zig, hi," Frankie nodded, gripping into his jacket to pull him inside of her room before either of her brothers caught a glimpse of him, if they hadn't already. She then closed the door and twisted the lock so her family couldn't bother them. "I can't do a booty call right now, my parents are here working on campaign stuff," the girl explained, moving back over towards her bed. "And why didn't you use my window? You know my parents freak over dudes in my room."
Zig's initial idea was to come right in with the questions about her pregnancy but he was cut off the second Frankie opened the door. He was caught off guard when she mentioned "booty call," implying that that's what she had assumed he was there for. "Oh- uh," he started, now uncertain of what to say. Deciding to keep a bit of distance between Frankie and himself, Zig stayed near the door and watched her move back over to her bed. "That's not what I'm here for," he said, clasping his hands together and taking an uncomfortable step to the side. "I forgot about the window, but it doesn't matter anyway. No one saw me but that old cleaning lady," he added shaking his head. Until he finished speaking, Zig was unable to look directly at Frankie. He kept his focus on other things around the room. When he finally moved his focus over to her, he was half expecting to see her all blown-up and pregnant. From what he could see, she looked like the same, small girl she was the last time he saw her- aside from the fact that she did look a little unwell. "I'm here to ask you about something," he finally said, trying to keep his tone as serious as possible.
Frankie made herself comfortable on top of her bed, beginning to grab some of the notebooks to neatly stack them together. She hadn't wanted to finish any of the homework she was assigned and with Zig coming over, she at least had somewhat of a legitimate excuse not to work on it. "Oh?" she questioned out loud, furrowing her brows together. Frankie then let out an inaudible sigh of relief once the boy confirmed nobody had seen him. That was a good thing, and not just for her sake. It would save her a lecture and Zig an argument with Miles. Her eyes watched as the boy remained far away from her and took note of his inability to even look at her. It began fueling some sort of insecurity within her. She took a quick look down at her body, wondering if he could tell any sort of difference. Her eyes shifted back up to him as he began to speak, though her worry remained. "What? Is it Miles?" Frankie asked, figuring her older brother had said or done more to him, despite her wishes. "Look, I tried telling him to leave you alone but he doesn't exactly like listening." Biting down on her lip, she moved the notebooks to her bedside table and pulled her legs up to cross them in front of her.
Zig watched Frankie's expression as she spoke. She really seemed to be acting like she had nothing to hide. It was a little relieving in a way; her first reaction had nothing to do with him finding out she was pregnant. Maybe she really wasn't. Zig gave her a sheepish smile in attempt to lighten her mood. He'd hardly gotten a word in edgewise and Frankie was already upset. "No, he's not trying to fight me or anything," he reassured her. "But he has been talking to me," Zig quickly added after a slight pause. He still wanted to keep his distance from Frankie, but instinctively took a step forward as he began to speak of the matter in hand. "I've been ignoring the rumors because I know better than that," he said. "But Miles said that you told him they were true." He was still having trouble looking directly at the girl, but forced himself to lock his eyes on hers. "But they can't be true," he said, taking another step toward the bed. "Because if they were, you would've told me," he continued. "Frankie. You're not pregnant, right?"
Frankie tried to relax herself in response to Zig's smile, although her body remained tense in its spot. Just when she thought relief was in her reach, the boy dropped something she hadn't been expecting. She felt her heart drop in her chest. They had been talking? It was never a good thing when Miles spoke with her friends, especially not after him finding out about her pregnancy. It was the main reason she had tried to keep Zig being the father a secret; Miles, himself, couldn't keep secrets. He had already proven that by telling Maya and probably even more people Frankie was unaware of yet. She felt herself growing anxious as Zig stepped closer towards her and continued speaking. It was intimidating, to say the least, and there wasn't anything she could do about it. The girl couldn't help but to look away as he finally asked the question. Lying to him seemed futile at this point. "I w.. well," Frankie began, her voice shakier than she had meant for it to be. "There's a reason.. that I didn't tell you," she muttered, her eyes glued to her lap.
Zig suddenly started to feel worried when Frankie broke their eye contact. There was no way that was a good sign. His stomach lurched the second he heard Frankie's response. Part of him still couldn't accept the fact. He was half-expecting Frankie to turn back to face him and tell him it was all a joke she had plotted with her older brother. Judging by the tone of her voice, it seemed that any chance of it all being a joke was completely out the window. Zig could barely see Frankie's expression with her focus pinned down to her lap. He took a few more steps toward the girl and knelt down so that their faces were on the same level. In order to avoid getting into an argument, Zig did his best to stay composed and keep his voice soft. He lifted his hand up underneath her chin to pull her attention back to him. "What was that?" he asked his, although he was fully aware of what she had said.
Frankie reluctantly allowed her gaze to be pulled back to Zig. As much as she wanted to jerk her head from his light touch, she remained still. Her eyes slowly moved over his facial features, trying to figure out whether or not he was going to be furious with her. Emotions weren't something she ever knew when it came Zig. "I can't -- we can't have a baby," she finally muttered with a shake of her head, desperately wanting to look away from him. This was the one situation that she wanted to avoid the most; the one she thought she was going to get away with. "I just... I thought you would hate me if I told you and," she paused for a moment to deeply inhale. "I'm.. I thought I could pretend it never happened and they were all just rumors. My parents want me to get an abortion." Frankie tore her eyes away from his, not wanting to witness his reaction simply because she had no idea what it would be.
Zig's eyes widened as Frankie spoke to him. For some reason, Zig still had some tiny shred of hope that this was all some big joke. That was, until now. Frankie was really pregnant with his kid, and she'd known about it for some time now. And she never told him, and from what she was telling him, it sounded like she wasn't planning to ever tell him. He felt a bit of relief when Frankie said she couldn't have the baby, and that she was planning to have an abortion. Although, he still wasn't satisfied. Frankie's older brother, who hated Zig, had more decency to actually fill him in on the situation than she did. "Why would I be mad at you?" he asked, cocking his head to the side in attempt to re-catch her focus. He was able to think logically enough to understand Frankie getting pregnant in the first place was no more her fault than it was his own. "I'm not mad," he started. Before continuing, Zig suddenly grew very angry and he jumped up from his position on the ground and began pacing. "No, you know what?" he said, responding to his own statement. "I am mad," he told her. He was more upset than he was angry, although his anger was what showed in his expression the most. "How could you not tell me?" he asked her, raising his voice a bit. "You told everyone but me. This isn't just about you. That thing is just as much mine as it yours," he said, gesturing to her stomach. He pulled his hand back and looked down at the floor in horror. The reality of the whole thing was finally starting to kick in.
Frankie felt her stomach begin to turn as she sat there, her confession now out in the open. She wasn't sure if it was because of that or because of her so-called "morning" sickness that left her nauseous the majority of the day. When Zig said he wasn't mad at her, Frankie couldn't help but to feel relieved. Her body became relaxed and less tense in her spot on the bed. But before she could ask him to reassure her that he wasn't, his attitude had changed and she was left feeling dumbfounded. Her eyes moved to look up at him as he pulled away and began moving about her room. "I didn't tell everyone!" she argued, crossing her arms over her chest. "I asked Vanessa for advice about it because she's been there. Bianca wanted to know why I was being weird. I even tried to keep it from Miles but my parents held a family meeting." Clenching her jaw at the memory of the fight she'd had with Miles after he found out, she huffed out out a breath of air through her nose. "If you want this thing then fine, they can put it in your stomach when they take it out of mine," Frankie added, narrowing her eyes up at Zig. "You can deal with the cramps and the puking and feeling like shit all the time."
Zig rolled his eyes. He realized he was being a little rude to Frankie, especially in the condition she was in. But, he felt like she had betrayed him. Not only was she keeping him in the dark about something totally major, but she implied that she didn't trust him enough to know, either. At least, that was the conclusion he had come to so far. Zig was still having a hard time piecing together why exactly she'd kept it from him. He was surprised to hear how many people actually heard the news before he had. Especially after hearing Bianca's name. He figured at least she'd want to tell him about something like this. Zig noticed that Frankie was starting to get worked up too. "I don't want it!" he retorted. "I never said I wanted it. But that doesn't mean you were allowed just to assume I didn't." Part of him just wanted to up and leave the conversation, but he knew that was a bad idea for more reasons than one. "I could've been there for you for all that gross stuff, but it's too late now. You decided it'd be better tell your friends and neighbors about the baby before me, the father." Zig's whole body went cold. That was the first time he referred to the thing as a baby, and the first time he referred to himself as a father. He stopped pacing and looked back at Frankie, waiting for her to take control of the conversation, his face twisted with frustration and confusion.
Frankie listened as Zig spoke, finding it hard to believe that he would have been there for her. Pregnancy was a big deal and the reality of everything was that the two were just kids who wanted to have sex. No strings, no real friendship, just sex. So took everything in the niner not to make a rude comment about how he would be unable to support her. She had never cared for his lack of financial stability and she didn't want to bring it up now just to spite the boy in front of her. "What can I say? Frankie the fuck up just fucked up again! It's what I do best," she began, a fake, overdone smile in place despite the fact that her eyes were welling up with tears. "You obviously hate me now, something I tried to avoid, so why don't you just go talk about how much I suck with your new B-F-F Miles?" The girl pressed her lips tightly together, hating to be reminded that Miles, of all people, was the one who told Zig. She'd been foolish enough to trust her brother not to do anything when it came to Zig. She looked away from him, her attention now on anything to distract her from letting the tears roll down her cheeks. She was tired of crying and had already had enough breakdowns in front of people; another one definitely didn't need to be added to the list.
Zig couldn't tell if he was making Frankie more angry or upset. Her voice sounded angry, but the look on her face was just plain misery. For a moment, he felt a twinge of sadness for her. She was probably already going through a lot, being pregnant and all. Although he was a lot younger, Zig was able to recall how vulnerable his mother was when she was pregnant with his little brother. He was probably just making things worse for her and he didn't want to be that guy. But at the same time, she seemed to be turning the whole thing around on him. All Zig wanted was to be let in on the big secret, he actually agreed with the abortion. But still, she didn't tell him. She didn't trust him. That's all he was angry about, and for some reason Frankie was turning the whole thing into some big drama show. It took everything in him to fight saying the words, "Are these those mood swings they're always saying pregnant ladies will have while carrying?" Instead he just asked her, "Why are you crying?" he didn't sound so sympathetic, more confused. He decided to let the 'B.F.F' line go, there was no need to add one argument on top of another. "You didn't fuck up. That thing's probably more my fault than it is yours," he told her. "Which is why you should've told me." Zig finally stopped pacing and stood over her.
Frankie knew it was a mistake - asking him over to start their 'fling' or whatever it was called back up. At the time, it was better than the constant arguing and she knew that. When they had sex, they got along better. They weren't going at each other's throats. But here they were, in another argument despite the fact that she suggested they hook up again. It seemed inevitable at this point between the two. At Zig’s question, Frankie twitched her brows together in her own confusion. She knew he could be quite dumb, but she didn’t think he was that dumb. “We both fucked up. You can’t make a baby with yourself, or else I’m sure you’d have a lot of them by now,” she breathed out. Frankie pushed herself up from her bed, shoving past Zig to reach her bedroom door. “Can you just leave, please?” she quietly asked, unlocking the door and pulling it open. Her hand remained on the knob as she stood there in silence, her focus on the hardwood floor beneath her bare feet.
Zig didn't think he was being too hard on the girl, but for some reason Frankie's attitude wasn't changing. He raised both eye brows and stared at her for a moment before responding. "Oh yeah? I'm sure the same goes for you then," he spat back, growing more annoyed with her now. He let Frankie push past him, although part of him wanted grab her and hold her still. All he wanted was for her to listen. "Why are you acting like I did something wrong?" ask asked, his voice now taking on a more whiny pitch. "I know we're not as close as we could be, but I'm not the kind of guy who'd just leave you during something like this. You didn't even give me a chance." He followed her over to the door, but instead of walking out, he grabbed Frankie's hand off the knob and closed it again. "I'm not done," he said, keeping her hand in his and holding it up. "Maybe it's a girl thing," he started again. "Girls always want so much drama in their life, at least that's what I've picked up on. It seems like you wanted all this stupid drama." he continued. "I mean, why else wouldn't you just tell me from the start? You knew I wasn't going to force you to keep it and start a family or some shit," he said. "I just don't get why. And, why do you continue to keep pushing me away?" he added, gesturing toward the now closed door she had just opened and tried to force him out of.
Frankie froze when she felt Zig's hand on hers. Her initial reaction was to jerk it away and keep it close to herself, however she remained still, slowly bringing her gaze up to meet his. She stayed silent and let him speak, allowing herself to gather her thoughts. "You think I wanted to get pregnant?" she asked, her voice cracking. "You think that.. that I wanted my parents to hate me even more? For everyone to not only think that I'm a slut, but a dumb slut who got herself pregnant?" Frankie pulled her lower lip between her teeth and used the back of her free hand to wipe her new tears away. she questioned, instinctively tightening her grip on Zig's hand the more she got worked up. She used the back of her free hand to wipe away the new tears, keeping it close to her face to hide herself. She instinctively tightened her grip on Zig's hand the more upset she became, the other hand still covering her face. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that I got scared and that I didn't tell you. I'm sorry that I never think and I just mess up all the time and that the only thing I'm good at is pushing people away and I'm just -- I'm," Frankie attempted to apologize through her ragged breathing, her face flushed from both being worked up and embarrassment. Her hand remained shielding her face from Zig and sniffled in an attempt to somewhat compose herself. "I'm sorry," she apologized once more, this time in a whisper.
Zig: began to realize how dumb the assumption had just made must've sounded. Who would want this? They were just kids. One was standing there weeping and the other was all angry and confused, blaming her for something he'd just finished saying wasn't her fault. The situation obviously wasn't planned by either of them. With a soft sigh, Zig released Frankie's hand, and then shoved both of his own into his pockets. Hearing her apologize was not giving him the relief he expected it would. And, on top of that, he now felt awful for practically forcing it out of her. "I'm sorry too," he said after a few seconds of silence. He wanted to give her time to calm down, but it didn't seem like she was going to any time soon. He wasn't sure how to handle her crying, so he just left his hands in his pockets and stood still in front of her. It wouldn't have been any use in trying to console her for something he'd caused anyway. "I shouldn't have come in like this," he admitted. "All yelling and without warning." He pulled his hand out of his pocket and reached for the door again. "I'll leave now."
Frankie invites Zig over for late night swim. Took place on Monday.
Zig shoved his hands into his pockets as he sauntered down the dark street. A distant street light cast a little bit of guidance for his feet, but he was otherwise on his own as he crossed Toronto in the black of night. To say his decision to go to the Hollingsworth home was an impulsive decision would have been quite the understatement. He didn’t know what had swayed him to bring up the reunion in the first place. Since his night with Tori, he and Frankie hadn’t exactly been on good terms. His other attempts at talking to her like a normal person had failed, and as a result Zig had finally realized that neither of them were meant for talking. As he approached the large mansion encased in a large gate, Zig glanced back and forth to either side of the road to make no one happened to be watching before he advanced to the side of the house and began the task of hoisting himself up and over the fence. He clumsily released his hold on the fence as he reached the other side, pushing himself off and landing on the grass. Zig poked his head around the pool house and spotted the petite girl appearing from the opposite side of the house just as he emerged. “Everybody asleep?” he asked with a quick nod towards the house as he moved forward to meet her in front of the pool.
Frankie slipped a light chiffon coverup over her bathing suit, giving herself a quick glance in the mirror. After making sure she looked decent enough, although it wouldn't matter once she actually jumped into the pool, she quietly left her bedroom. Her footsteps were soft as she made her way through the halls, not wanting to wake any of her family members up, had they been actually sleeping. Frankie decided to make a short pitstop to her dad's liquor cabinet, knowing any sort of interaction with Zig that didn't include alcohol wasn't something either one of them enjoyed. Her slim fingers grasped at whatever was closest to the small door, before quickly exiting the house. She slowed her movements once she spotted Zig already inside the gates to her house. Considering every conversation but their last had been some sort of argument, Frankie couldn't be sure of why she'd invited him over in the first place. It didn't matter now, though, as Zig stood just a few feet away from her. "Should be," she lightly shrugged, assuming if they weren't by now it wouldn't be much longer. Beginning to wave the two bottles of liquor around, a light smile formed on her lips as the liquid sloshed around. "Don't drink too much, because I don't want to be responsible for someone drowning in my pool," Frankie teasingly warned the older boy.
Zig offered a short nod, content with her response for the time being. He wasn't scared of her family, certainly not her sorry excuse for a brother, but that didn't mean he enjoyed the possibility of having to face any of them. If Frankie hadn't been so different from the rest of the Hollingsworth clan, he most likely wouldn't have been able to put up with her either, for sex or otherwise. He advanced closer to her as she waved the alcohol in front of him, his quickening movements similar to that of a bull moving to a waving red flag. His hand shot out and grasped at the first bottle he could reach. After a quick roll of his eyes, he unscrewed the lid and took a swig. Whiskey burned his mouth and straight to the bottom of his throat. "I'm not that stupid. You'd probably just let me drown," he retorted after he'd swallowed. His eyes searched the large but empty space around him. It was quite a contrast from the small apartment complex above his mother's store where he rested his head most nights, but this wasn't a time to feel sorry for himself. Zig shoved the bottle back towards her and used both hands to remove his shirt, followed by his jeans, no shame in revealing his plaid boxers. He placed his knuckles on his hips proudly and looked down at the small girl. "You first," he instructed.
Frankie held back a laugh as she noticed Zig's sudden interest in the alcohol in her hands. "Knew it," she mumbled to herself, rolling her eyes. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as he downed a bit of the whiskey. "Eh, maybe," the girl replied with a tilt of her head, allowing him to believe whatever he wanted. Gripping onto the neck of the bottle once it was passed back her way, she remained silent as the boy began stripping down in front of her. Frankie allowed her eyes to trail down Zig's now half-naked body, a smirk toying on her lips. "Do you not own swimming trunks?" she questioned, nodding towards the boxers on his lower half with a raised brow. It wasn't as if she truly cared, so she simply just nodded at his instruction instead. "Alrighty," she mumbled under her breath, leaning down to place the two glass bottles onto the concrete. Her fingers grasped at the hem of her coverup and she swiftly pulled it over her head before tossing it next to the alcohol. Once she took care of that, Frankie turned on her heel and began walking away from Zig towards the shallow end of the pool. A quick detour was made so that she could turn on a couple of the pool lights, not wanting to swim in complete darkness. The niner, now satisfied, began descending down the small steps underneath the water. A light gasp left her lips as she moved further; it was colder than she'd expected it to be and she was now regretting not just jumping in to get it over with.
Zig feigned shock as she agreed, but he hadn't expected much more of her than to oblige him in whatever thought he had. That was generally how Frankie operated, picking and choosing her battles as she went. He had admired that about her until the incident at her brother's party that ended their prior arrangement. "Nope. Think Miles would lend me some?" Zig joked with a snort. The tall boy crossed his arms across his chest and smirked as he watched her face change in response to the icy water. "C'mon, don't be chicken," he pressed impatiently, hiding the urge to laugh. When he was confident that she was far enough into the water to feel the impact of his next action, Zig sucked in a deep breath and launched himself off the side of the pool, cannon balling into the body of water. Small pin pricks hit him as the cold washed over him, but he recovered quickly and moved back to the surface. His head bobbed there for a moment before he found Frankie with his eyes and grinned, half of his mouth still submerged. Zig's eyes flickered toward the house to make sure the noise hadn't stirred anyone inside before turning back to Frankie. "Oops," he said with a quick shrug. "Slipped," he continued nonchalantly as he swam toward her at the shallow end until he could stand completely. He pushed his soaking hair off his forehead.
Frankie narrowed her eyes in Zig's direction at the sound of his comment, only slightly picking up her pace. She remained on her tip toes the further she went, her stomach muscles tightening as the coldness reached more of her bare skin. Chills ran up her spine and she kept her arms pressed against her chest above the surface of the water. As Frankie noticed Zig running towards the pool she tried to move as quickly as she possibly could away from the area, though her body's reaction to the change of temperature made her movements considerably slow. "Zig!" the young girl squealed as he hit the water which caused it to splash her torso. Frankie wiped away the water from her face and her eyes widened at how loud she'd been. "Fuck you," she shivered, her voice more quiet this time as Zig moved closer to where she was. Removing her arms from her chest, she took in a deep breath and quickly entered the water up to her neck. "Jesus Christ," Frankie whispered to herself, popping out of the water almost as fast as she had entered it. "Tell me again why you thought swimming at night was a good idea?" she questioned, exhaling a huff of breath.
Zig would have been doubled over and laughing on the floor had he been on ground, but he settled for chuckling quietly to himself so as not to make her too unpleasant. The last thing he needed was to get her riled up the point of actually fighting. He bit his bottom lip, refraining the urge to deliver the obvious retort in response to her remark and instead shook his head dismissively at her. "Maybe not now," he said with a dramatic arch of his eyebrows before his face eased to a more pleasant and soft expression. Zig lowered himself back into the water and waded toward her once more, pleased that his action had been the push needed to get her submerged in the chilly water. "It was a good idea, wasn't it? It's not my fault you get so loud..." The corners of Zig's mouth tugged upward as he grinned at her. When he was close enough to reach her, he extended his arm beneath the water and found her hand. "C'mere," he said, giving her a tug and pulling her easily through the water until she was in front of him. "Just kick your legs," he instructed. "It'll warm up." The water was still ice cold at the bottom of the pool where his feet touched, but he wiggled his toes and tried to ignore the pin pricks and chills making their way up his body by focusing on Frankie. After a short pause with his mouth resting well beneath the water, he lifted up enough to speak. "Still mad at me?" he asked lightly.
Frankie pushed her lips into a fake smile, her eyes narrowing once again at Zig's comment. "That's not what I meant," she felt the need to respond, despite the boy already being aware of that. "It would have been a good idea if my parents had actually installed a hot tub into this stupid thing," she added on, rolling her eyes at him. "Too bad that's the only time you've ever made me get loud." Satisfied with her comment, shown by her returning the grin, Frankie felt herself beginning to relax in the water. Her brows pressed together as she felt Zig's hand against hers and her face scrunched as she was pulled into the deeper end. "I know how to swim," she found herself retorting before pulling her hand away from Zig's. Her legs began moving to keep her head from going underneath the water and her arms were extended on either side to keep balanced. "Depends on which time you're asking about," Frankie mumbled unsurely, not really knowing the answer herself. Over the past month she'd fought with Zig over almost anything; their conversations had all been ending in animosity. It wasn't like every single thing Zig said or did made Frankie mad, it had just all stemmed from his night with Tori. Deciding that she didn't want to add another fight to the list, the niner just shook her head. "I'm not."
Zig narrowed his eyes at her. "Poor baby didn't get a hot tub with her pool?" His voice was laced with sarcasm. "Jeez, how do you even go on," he continued, unashamed at the act of mocking her. He knew her family's wealth was a sore spot for her, but he couldn't understand it. Zig had decided long ago not to care how many people pointed out how poor his own family was so he couldn't understand why Frankie couldn't do the same in light of the opposite. "Your memory must be bad," he mumbled with a shake of his head. He knew she was only trying to drive the nail in, but he was a guy, and no guy appreciated a dig like that, regardless of whether or not there was any truth to it. He wrinkled his nose as she withdrew her hand. "Fine, sorry," he shot back before clenching his jaw. He pulled his hand back to his sides and moved further out into the water, using them to help him wade in place. As she spoke, he kept his mouth closed and eyes focused steadily on her. He examined each part of her face carefully, watching her internal conflict. Zig was silent after she spoke, considering whether or not she meant it and ultimately deciding he didn't care. If she was willing to feign forgiveness, he could take it. "Good." He had already anticipated that answer. Knowing Frankie, there was no way he could have arrived at her pool without a fight if she were still holding the grudge, or at least holding on to it as tightly as she was before. Zig swam toward the edge of the pool where he had jumped off and lifted himself up to grab the bottle he'd already drank out of. He held it above water as he paddled carefully back in her general direction, careful to keep his space after her outburst when he touched her hand. "Do you want some?" he asked after he took another drink. He offered it to her, already aware of what her answer would be.
Frankie pressed her lips tightly together, feeling herself grow anxious at his words. If it had been anyone else, especially catching her on a bad day, she would've fired back as many insults as she could possibly think of. But after making the decision to keep this a fight free night and after telling Zig she would never bring up his home life, she stayed silent on the subject. "Considering squirming and being loud are two different things, I think my memory is fine," Frankie spoke, her right brow rising upward. "Besides, from what I remember you always told me I had to be quiet." Biting down on her lip, she watched as Zig swam away from her and towards the edge of the pool. Instead of questioning what he was doing she just watched from her spot, making sure she kept her movement consistent so she wouldn't go under the water. She rolled her eyes as he grabbed onto the bottle of whiskey, her face contorting once she realized that he had actually brought the drink inside of the pool itself. Drinking while swimming didn't seem like the best idea in the world to Frankie; however, she figured it wouldn't be that bad if she only drank enough to feel a buzz from the hard liquor. Nodding her head to his question, she swam closer to grasp the bottle with her left hand. She hadn't anticipated drinking from a bottle while swimming to be as difficult as a task it was for her. Using her right hand, she gently held herself up using Zig's shoulder, careful not to put any weight to push him under. Once she assured herself she was steady, Frankie brought the tip of the bottle to her lips, knocking back two swigs.
Zig made a face of disdain at Frankie's continuous but subtle insults. He settled on a more nonchalant response, not wanting to reveal that he was the least bit concerned with her questioning his abilities in the bedroom through her petty comments, even if he really was. "Squirming? That's what the kids are calling it?" Zig's lips collapsed in a thoughtful frown before he nodded to dismiss that part of the conversation altogether. He didn't need to get worked up right now. His eyes followed her movements carefully as she fumbled with the glass bottle. He thought to offer help for fear that she would drop the open bottle and lose its contents, but she placed her hand firmly on his shoulder before he could complete the thought. "I thought you knew how to swim," he mentioned, incapable of refraining. He smiled smugly before narrowing his eyes in all seriousness. "I forget you were so short. Sorry," he continued, but his voice lacked the basic sincerity needed to convey the point. He reached his hand up from the water and took the bottle from her before she had completely finished her own sip, bringing it promptly to his mouth and tipping it back before she could protest. Next he pulled the bottle back at arms length, knowing her smaller arms couldn't stretch enough to reach the bottle without flailing in the water. "You have to answer a question before you get it back," Zig told her with a wide grin.
Frankie slowly nodded. "That's what you called it," she shrugged, now more than satisfied with herself that she'd stopped Zig's comments on the matter. It wasn't a typical victory that she ever had with him and she would've been lying if she said she wasn't a little bit proud of herself. Her face flushed with slight embarrassment over having to hold herself up, though she knew supporting herself on his shoulder didn't look half as bad as her struggling to stay afloat would have. Before Frankie could even adjust to the burning sensation in the back of her throat, Zig had yanked the bottle from her and was taking his own drink. She let out a groan of disapproval, her eyes trailing over to watch him then move the bottle even further from her reach. As Zig told her his terms for letting her continue to drink, she pressed her brows together. It was somewhat nerve wracking, having no idea what kind of question the older boy was going to ask her, and the grin on his lips wasn't easing the anxious feeling that bubbled in her stomach. "Fine, what question?" Frankie asked, readjusting her loose grip on his shoulder.
Zig ignored her obvious verbal objections and strained his arm further to pull the bottle back more. "I need a real answer," he said, taking on a more serious tone to play up the suspense of it all. His eyebrows raised with each passing moment as he hung on to the silence in the air, searching her face and seeing how long he could stretch the time before the younger girl imploded. In the time he spent doing that, he almost rethought asking the question. He didn't want it to seem like he remotely cared, as a typical curious male or otherwise. But he had come this far now and submerged himself in cold water with her, so the least he could do was follow through with a simple question. When he was positive of his acton and confident that Frankie's impatience was about to bubble over, he eased his strained arm and released the breath he had been holding. "Why did you let me come over?" Zig asked. He continued to search her face, immediately interjecting, "And I want a real answer. None of your I don't know crap." He dangled the bottle around in his hand as it sat suspended in the air, using the liquor as leverage to coax her. He still wasn't confident it would be enough to get a stable answer out of her, but it was the one thing he had over her outside of threatening to drown her altogether or just leave, the latter of which most likely wouldn't have induced so much as a blink from Frankie.
Frankie hated playing the waiting game, especially one where she didn't know what was coming. All it did was make her extremely anxious and it seemed like he was knowingly using that to his full advantage. She opened her mouth to give Zig the answer that he was expecting - that she didn't know - but immediately closed it. The question had caught her off guard because she was expecting it to have been something stupid coming from the boy. Taking in a deep breath, Frankie removed her hand from Zig and slipped underneath the water for a few seconds. The deeper she went into the pool, the colder it was. Once she emerged though the surface moments later, her hands reached up to smooth her hair back and wipe the water from her face. He was still watching her and though the action had bought her a little bit of time, answering the question was still unavoidable. "Well you wanted to swim, right?" Frankie asked, knowing this probably just annoyed him. "I feel bad, I guess," she finally murmured, her eyes finding interest in anything that wasn't Zig. "For Luke bugging the shit out of you, I mean, and whatever Miles has said to you." At least that was true. She bit down on her bottom lip, bringing her glance back to the boy in front of her. "So why did you want to come over? Real answer."
Zig blinked in confusion as Frankie's head disappeared beneath the water's surface. He could see the top of her light hair through the clear water as she submerged herself, but he had no idea what point she was trying to make. He definitely hadn't expected a prompt answer. Maybe he wouldn't have to go through the trouble of drowning her himself after all. He was smirking to himself at that thought when she broke the surface and came back up for air. "We can swim later," he said curtly. Zig eyed her as she continued to bide her time. In response to her final answer he only nodded in understanding. "Yeah," he mumbled slowly. "Yeah, I get it." He was surprisingly content with her answer. He would have been lying if he said there wasn't some form of satisfaction attached to knowing that Frankie felt bad for everything that had transpired between the two. Hearing her own question, Zig sucked in a quick breath. "I guess you're not the only one who felt bad." He refused to apologize to Frankie anymore than he already had, but knowing it took her this long to forgive him meant he had really affected her, even if it was in the smallest way. Zig turned his gaze from her and brought the bottle back to his lips for another chug. He winced at the burning before offering it back to her. The pause gave him enough courage to form his next question. "You and Luke, is that a thing or what?"
Frankie tried her best not to look surprised as Zig mentioned that he felt bad. Whether it was the truth or not, it wasn't something she thought she'd ever hear coming out of the boy's mouth. "Cool," she breathed out, a hint of awkwardness trailing in her voice. She then silenced herself as Zig's attention was now on the bottle of whiskey, not wanting to make the air around them any weirder than it already had been. Grasping the bottle as it was offered to her, she resumed her position with one hand on Zig's shoulder to support herself. Her face formed a look of disgust at his question and she immediately shook her head. "God, no," left her lips shortly after as she brought the tip of the bottle to her mouth. Frankie took a long drink, her nose crinkling at both the taste and the burning from the alcohol. "The only 'thing' we do is cuddle if either one of us is in a bad mood," she explained. "But it's totally platonic because I consider him like, the cool older brother I'd rather have." She was unsure of why she was even bothering to explain her friendship with Luke to Zig of all people. It was very doubtful that he even cared and Luke probably wouldn't have been happy about her telling other people his business, even if it didn't mean much. "Sometimes he thinks he's looking out for me or whatever but then he becomes as annoying as Miles so.. yeah."
Zig shifted in the water to make it easier for her. Despite being somewhat amused by her balancing act, he knew she was uncomfortable repeatedly leaning on him for support. That wasn't a surprising notion considering the sordid and strained relationship that had once been between the two. "Oh," he mumbled in response to her rejection of Luke. "That's cool." But it wasn't. He turned his head and made a face at the idea of the two cuddling. Zig thought it almost important to mention that no guy would be cuddling without the hope of something more, but he didn't want to overstep by assuming anything of Luke or implying to Frankie that he even cared. After considering both of these things, he closed his mouth as quickly as he had opened it. He nodded knowingly when she mentioned Miles, but he fought the urge to rag on her brother like he usually did. "You don't want people in your business, I get it." Zig chewed on the inside of his teeth as he glanced her over. "I didn't want him in our business," he added and then immediately regretted using the word. Grouping their business together made it seem more than what it was, and that left Zig with a strange feeling in his stomach, prompting him to drift away from her. He did so knowing it would leave her floating without his shoulder to rest on, but he swam toward the shallow end of the pool and remained silent.
Frankie's eyes caught a glance of his disapproving face, however she determined it was best not to ask him about it - mostly because she didn't want to know why he'd done it. She just nodded in silent agreement, unsure of how she was supposed to respond now. This was probably the most the two had ever spoken in person without being completely intoxicated and it wasn't something she found particularly enjoyable. She figured he felt the same, too. As Zig unexpectedly moved away from her, Frankie's body was knocked off the balance she'd created. Instead of following behind him to the shallow end, she made the choice to swim to closest ledge to her. She struggled to keep the bottle out of the water as she swam over to the ladder, her pace slow and not so steady. Exhaling a sigh of relief once she reached the wall, she placed the glass onto the concrete with a soft clink. Frankie glanced over her shoulder at Zig in the opposite end of the pool, not being able to help wonder what had caused the abrupt withdrawal. It had undoubtedly created a new tension in the air, something that began to make the young girl feel uncomfortable herself. She bit down on the inside of her cheek as she pulled herself out of the pool, her eyes glancing down at the chlorinated water that began to collect in a puddle at her feet. "I'm just.. gonna go get some towels," she informed Zig, not wanting to bother him and whatever was going on in his head. Due to the cool night air, Frankie picked up a brisk pace before disappearing into one of the rooms that surrounded the area in search of a couple of towels for the two.
Zig kept his back to Frankie until he was so far into the shallow end that the majority of him was sticking out of the water. He turned his body awkwardly in the water to look at her. Had he felt less uneasy about what had just happened, he might have laughed at seeing her bob through the water like a little dog learning to swim. He only nodded in reply, watching her small frame disappear from the corner of his eye before he decided to follow suit and get out of the water. The cold chill in the air hardly seemed to touch him with his head spinning. It was just a stupid slip of words, but he had a feeling that returning to the uncomplicated affair they had once had wouldn't be as easy as one might think. He folded his arms tightly across his chest and stared intently at the concrete below. "Idiot," he mumbled to himself at the same time that she had reemerged with towels. He walked toward her, careful to avoid her stare, and took the top towel before turning away. "I, uh.... Sorry," he said finally, his shoulders dropping in defeat. He couldn't form much other explanation. Zig wiped off the top part of his body with the towel and ruffled his soaking dark hair before tossing it aside, unconcerned with the lower portion of his body or his wet boxers. He turned back toward her and considered all the things he could say. "Maybe I should go," was the only thing that came out.
Frankie wrapped the other towel around her torso once Zig took his, making sure to cover her shoulders to warm herself up. "No, it's.. fine, really," she muttered in an attempt to assure him, not wanting to delve further into the subject of his strange behavior for the time being. It wasn't worth another fight, nor did she want to be told if she had actually done something wrong. "Um, yeah, I wouldn't want Miles or my dad to catch us this late anyways," Frankie softly agreed, knowing it was probably best that he did leave. There was an awkward silence between the two for a few moments, mostly because Frankie wasn't sure how to say goodbye to him. Normally when she said goodbye to others, she hugged them - but this was Zig and she never hugged him. Their 'goodbyes' usually just consisted of Frankie slipping her clothes back on and climbing out of his window until the next time he wanted her to come over. Now that they weren't not-so-much-friends with benefits anymore, she was stumped. "I guess I'll see you around?" she suggested in doubtful tone. "Or.. not, no, I don't know. I don't have to see you around, or you don't have to see me around, or.. whatever." Frankie shook her head as the word vomit spilled from her mouth, uncomfortably tugging the towel closer to her body.
Zig sucked his top lip into his mouth and began to gnaw it, biding time as he tried to figure out how to make this less uncomfortable. When he settled on the acceptance that there was no possible way to avoid it, he lowered his stare back to the ground beneath them as his head bobbed in agreement. He didn't actually care if either Hollingsworth came out and had something to say to him. In fact, he had been hoping for a possibility to fight it out with Miles ever since he had become involved with Frankie and gained unwanted attention from her brother, but that was his more rebellious side speaking, not the part of him that knew it would only create more problems. After several moments of silently looking down, Zig released his hold on his lip and sighed. He began to turn away when Frankie began rambling. He stopped short and looking at her, his nose wrinkling in confusion. He eyed her for a moment long. "Uh, sure? We can... do whatever?" He paused before grunting. "Not whatever, I didn't--not whatever, because we don't--" He stopped short of whatever else was threatening to spill out, feeling the obvious flush of heat rush to his face as they both stood ominously gazing at each other. His shoulders collapsed in defeat before he turned away from her, mumbling as he went, "This was a mistake. A big mistake." He snatched his clothes up from the ground as he stormed off from her, barely managing to wrangle his jeans on and not even bothering with his shirt as he made his way toward the fence.
