eight - accidents

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the art of accidents

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My fingers drummed against the table. Beat after beat after beat.

"You okay, Zi? You look like something's wrong." I heard a voice interrupt my mindless thoughts, snapping me back into reality.

Frankie was the only person in the whole world who truly knew me. Frankie was with me when we were nine and we were scared because of the older kids in the group home. Frankie was with me when I was ten and crying because the older girls were tormenting me, deciding to give me a real welcome by beating on me. Frankie was with me at fourteen when I decided that I hated the world. Frankie was with me when we were barely fifteen and moving to New York, watching Grey's Anatomy in my new bedroom and me saying, hey, maybe I could do this. Frankie was with me at fifteen, sixteen when I was waiting for Kareem to come back, dealing with the typical teenage angst and the breakup with Kady, the uncertainty with Nico, and when I was seventeen and Nico had a new responsibility to deal with and I had to leave.

I had to leave.

Frankie was so many things. Brazen and loud, crazy and fun. But my favorite Frankie was the one I first met thirteen years ago, who sat down next to me and asked me if I was okay.

"I'm just tired, Frank."

His face brightened, eyes crinkled at the sides as he shook his head in exasperation. "I told you doing Med in college would tire you out. Did you believe me? Absolutely not."

"I've got two essays due on pharmacology and one on the cardiovascular system. Forgive me if listening to you is something I tend to ignore."

He tutted, shaking his head. "As far as I'm concerned, you only need to know how to run away from danger. The rest is child's play."

My eyebrows furrowed, rounding on my best friend as if he'd just said something incredibly stupid. In Frankie's case, as per usual, he absolutely did. "You know that made no sense, right?"

"Just because you don't have the intellectual capacity to understand the magnitude of brainpower that my mind possesses', doesn't mean that my words aren't able to be understood. You simply aren't smart enough."

"Oh, here we go." I muttered, shaking my head fondly as Frankie took a deep breath.

"All I'm saying is that there's still so much that we don't know about the brain so how can we measure intelligence by using the minuscule amount of knowledge that we have?"

Knowing that getting into a debate with Frankie was something I needed to mentally prepare myself for, I acquiesced. "Okay, Frankie. Point made."

He blinked at me, "I don't think you've taken my viewpoint into account."

"Trust me," I muttered, "I've taken it into account."

"Then I don't think you're taking me seriously."

"You'll see how seriously I take you when I break your mandible."

"I don't even know what that is!" He exclaimed, making some people from other tables turn to stare at us.

"Exactly."

Frankie stared at me, emotionless. Eyes blinking as we kept up eye contact until I eventually wavered, letting out a bark of laughter as he glared at me.

"I got asked out on a date this morning."

Frankie's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets as he stared at me, "What!"

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