[PART THREE: Franchesca]

Dear Bec, sometimes your garden bleeds,

And your tears will dampen everything but the seeds.

And sometimes it’ll be your fault.

Most times it’ll be your fault.

“Guys, this is a bad idea.” I said, sucking on Frankie’s vape pen.

“Mate, stop being such a wuss.” Jacob replied, turning over in the driver’s seat to face me. He outstretched his hand, and I handed him the pen.

“Guys, do you think sex after a first date is tacky?” Frankie said, tapping away at her phone in the passenger’s seat. It was nearing the end of our freshman year. By this point Liz and Jacob were damn near married, and Adam had finally conjured up the balls to ask Frankie on a date.

At that moment exactly, we were in Jacob’s garage, debating on whether or not to take his dad’s car on a joyride. As a Nigerian, the idea of not being old to drive and just taking your parents car without their permission fell somewhere below having anal with a horse on the universal list of bad ideas, but, white people, I guess.

“That depends,” I said, “did you have sex after a first date?”

Her eyes darted to mine in the rearview mirror, before bouncing back to her phone.

“Kind of.” Was all she said. As if you could “kind of” have sex.

Jacob and I exchanged a look.

“Well then I say it’s completely fine.” Jacob said.

I nodded “We live in progressive times.”

“Okay,” Frankie said, “We did… stuff, after he took me to the movies last night. And I think I scared him off.”

“Well, what did you do?” I asked.

Frankie’s eyes met mine in the mirror again. She bit her lip.

“Stuff.” She repeated.

“Damn.” I said, nodding slowly, “You’s a freak.”

Jacob threw his head back in laughter, and Frankie just rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to her phone. Just then, said device dinged, and she made an ungodly sound that I suspect was supposed to be a squeal.

“He texted back!” She exclaimed, and the car lit up immediately.

“Yoink!” Jacob said, as he plucked the phone out her grasp.

“Nooooo!” Frankie yelled, reaching for it.

“Relax, we just wanna help.” Jacob said, moving the phone out of her reach.

Frankie’s glare softened. “Really?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Jacob turned to me. “Right, Tobe?”

I blinked. “I’m just tryna see if he sent you any dick pics.”

Frankie gasped, and turned to try and grab the phone, to which Jacob raised it even further away from her reach.

“Goddamnit, Tobe!” Jacob said, his hand pushing on Frankie’s face, Now how are we gonna know his size?”

I shrugged and pulled the vape pen out from under his thumb.

“I told you we should have just asked him, man.” I took a puff, “Frankie how big is his dick?”

Jacob, despite his vertical disadvantages, managed to keep Frankie at arms length as he scrolled through her texts. “Is he circumcised?” He asked.

A question straight from Jesus Christ landed in my head. “Is he one of those jackasses with a purple head, or is it nice and pi-”

“He didn’t sent me a dick pick!” Frankie exclaimed, a little louder than normal.

Jacob and I exchanged a look, and realized instantly we had crossed a line.

“Look,” Frankie said, blinking excessively, “I think I like him, okay? He… he’s done things. To me. Stuff that no one else has. He’s… he makes me feel… s-special.” She kept her gaze fixed on her fingers, each breath she took looked like it weighed 80,000 tons.

“So,” she continued. “if you’re not actually gonna help me text him right, then give me my fucking phone. I-I haven’t felt like this before. I don’t want to mess it up. Help me. Please. Please help me.”

Gently, Jacob gave her back her phone, and nodded softly. “We’ll help.” He turned to me. “Right?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

“Th-thanks.” She said.

Silence.

More silence.

A bit more.

“He has a foreskin.” She finally said.

“GODDAMNIT!” I screamed, as Jacob pumped his fists, grunting in victory.

I rushed for a victory of my own. “Is the tip pink, or pur-”

“Purple.” She said.

“FUCK!” I said, as Jacob showed he actually had the audacity to unironically dab in my presence.

Jacob turned to me and outstretched his hand. I sighed and pulled out my wallet, before handing him a twenty dollar bill. His grin gave me a tumor.

“Guys, can we focus?” Frankie said, “Also give me my vape pen.”

I took another puff as a dying act of defiance before handing her the pen.

“Okay,” Jacob said, rubbing his stupid tiny British hands together, “what did he send you just now?”

Frankie sunk into the chair. “He just said he enjoyed last night.”

“No dick pic?”

“Tobe!”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Well,” Jacob said, “Why not say ‘me too’, or something? Something simple.”

“You sure? Nothing more? How does Liz respond when you tell text her shit like that?” Frankie sunk even further into the chair.

“Well, usually, we Facetime, but-”

“You call? He hasn’t called me since yesterday? Do you think-”

“Okay Frankie,” I said, “relax. He’s a senior, I’m sure he’s just busy with graduation stuff.”

Frankie took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Her phone dinged again, and the entire car turned to look at her phone.

“He wants to go out again.” Frankie said breathlessly, like she couldn’t believe it. Like God himself had opened his mouth for her to shit in.

Jacob clapped. “That’s good, right?”

Frankie nodded ecstatically. “Fuck yeah!”

I think even back then I knew it was wrong to see Frankie as ‘off the market’, but still. I’m ashamed to admit that that was the moment I realized it, and that my stomach turned the other way.

“Oh my god,” Frankie said, “we should go on one of those awful double dates!”

“Oh, that would suck!” And then they laughed and laughed and laughed.

Turning, turning, turning.

“Alright,” Frankie said, typing away at her phone, “I’ll type ‘I’d love to!’, what do you think?”

I swallowed. “Ditch the exclamation mark.”

“Alright,” she said after she finished typing, “enough about me and Adam. Are we going joyriding or not?”

Jacob did a dumb British dance and put on his dumb British seatbelt.

“Alright! You ready?” He asked.

She nodded and put on her seatbelt.

And so, like we didn’t just help Frankie capture the moon, we pulled out of Jacob’s garage in Ronald Greene’s Ford F-150 at a few minutes shy of 9pm, and then proceeded to make the town just a little bit smaller.

I don’t remember exactly what street we turned into, I just remember they all started to bleed into each other until road became road. None of us said anything, and even if we could, we wouldn’t have heard each other. The windows were rolled down, and we were driving at ungodly speeds. I rested my head against the window and closed my eyes. The breeze bellowed in my ear and wrapped itself around my head in a cold, but welcome embrace. I felt so light back then, so full of nothing and so empty of everything that I felt the currents would carry me away like a plastic bag. I let the emotions I didn’t understand tango away with the wind, and submerged myself beneath the waves of whatever the hell was in Frankie’s vape. Whatever consequences rode in tandem to our actions was not my problem, and with the tang of Dragon Banana Berry on my lips, I dove under. For a moment, Alex’s face flashes behind my eyelids. She’s crying, and everyone is laughing at her. I want to reach out to her, to ask her why she didn’t respond to my calls, but the wind carries her away too, and then I’m swimming in nothing, like a plastic bag.