He mostly drives during the day and then, at night, when he starts to flag, I take over. When I run out of steam, we find a place to park and stretch out across the seats, catching a few hours of sleep – him in the front, me in the back. They’re long, lonely days, even though neither of us are eve
“I’ll stick around as long as you want, Bambs,” Frankie says, looking down and working hard to hide his emotions as he says this. Then he quickly grabs a French fry and throws it at me. “As long as you stop snoring so loudly while you sleep –“ I burst out laughing, grabbing the fry and eating it,
A little smile finds my lips as he says that, because I’m not sure I’m used to Frankie saying something so poetic. Even though I think I’ve long known, deep down, that he’s been capable of it. “Okay,” I say quietly. “Then…we go until we find that somewhere beautiful.” “All right,” he says slowly,
I go on stage three times that night, and each time afterwards men beg me for a private dance. But I just laugh and shrug, telling them that’s not my style, but even as I say it I bite my lip a little, letting them think that maybe they can convince me. It works, too, because each of these men crowd
“There’d better be,” he murmurs. “Because I want Olive Garden tonight.”I burst out laughing as the pair of us walk out the door and into the night.When Frankie and I stumble into the motel room the next night, we’re both laughing a little hysterically, our arms packed with bags – fast food, clothe
Suddenly, as Frankie just watches me quietly, waiting for me to tell him what I want, I sigh in frustration, kind of pissed at him for putting all of these stupid choices on my shoulders. “Frank!” I growl, my teeth together a bit as I pull my leg up and give him a soft kick with my bare foot.“Ow!”
It sounds amazing, doesn’t it?“Life in America?” Frankie gives a dry shrug. “Cornfields. Trailer parks. You know, a lot of…meth…”I start to laugh as Frankie lists more horrors, shaking my head at him. “You’re so biased.”“I am not!” he protests, laughing too as he presses a hand to his chest. “I a
We take a bus to the airport, disembarking not at the departures terminal but instead at the cargo terminal. I hoist the backpack higher on my shoulder and glance up at Frankie as the bus drives away without us.“So, I take it we’re not flying first class?”He smirks at me, slipping his arm around m