Saying Goodbye (What the World Doesn't Know) (19 page)

            Alex checked his watch. “It’s eleven thirty.”

            “Whatever will we do for the next couple hours before you need to take me home?” she asked, hugging his waist.

            “I have a few ideas,” he whispered seductively and leaned over to kiss her neck.

            Frankie pulled away and then grabbed his hand to drag him back downstairs.

            They immediately found Chase, who was looking rather bored, smoking a cigarette in the hallway outside the ballroom. Before Alex even spoke, Chase stood upright and asked, “You guys ready to make a break?”

            “Yeah, back to the hotel for a bit,” said Alex. “But I need to have her home by two before she turns into a pumpkin or loses a glass slipper.”

            Chase finished his cigarette. “No problem.”

 

            Alex and Frankie returned to his suite, embracing and kissing as they entered. As Alex unzipped her gown, she unbuttoned his shirt.

            “Why do you have to leave?”

            “Tour’s over,” he muttered, holding her tightly in his arms.

            She stepped out of her gown, kicked off her shoes, and backed onto the satin-covered bed. “Mm-hmm, yeah, but don’t you get a vacation or anything?”           

            “No . . . I don’t know. We have to do another tour of England once when we get there.” He lay down on top of her.

            “That stinks” said Frankie as Alex kissed her face and neck.

            “Yeah,” he sighed with his face between her breasts.

            Frankie ran her fingers through his hair. “I don’t want you to go.”

            Alex lifted his face and looked down at Frankie with a serious expression. “I don’t want to go either.”

            “Then don’t. Can’t they get another guitar player?” she asked. “Besides, you can do just fine on your own.”

            Lying down on top of her, Alex held her tight. “Sometimes I wish they could. But they’re my friends. They’re more than friends—they’re like brothers. I can’t leave them.”

            “So that means
I’m
going to have to let you go,” whispered Frankie in his ear.

            “You could move to England.”

            Her mind whirled from thoughts of lovemaking to the thought of moving to England. She never thought of living in another country. She loved her home and her family. It wouldn’t be an easy move; but she was so fond of Alex, he just might be worth the sacrifice. She was quiet as she recalled her youth as a teen star—all the good times (and not so good times).

            “It seems that you are not fully here with me,” he whispered in her ear and then pulled himself up and looked down at her. “What are you think about?”

            “My career,” she said. “Just wondering if I could leave it all here.”

            He kissed her neck and breasts. “And could you?”

            “What are your parents’ names?” she asked suddenly.

            “Do you want to have sex or not?”

            Frankie laughed. “Can’t you carry on a conversation and have sex at the same time?”

            “I can, but I don’t want to,” he said and then kissed her passionately as he continued to make love to her. When they were through, he rolled away and lit a cigarette.

“Leon and Nadine,” he finally said.

            Frankie rolled toward him and propped her head up on her palm. “Leon and Nadine. Do they love each other?”

            “Yes,” he said with a drag of his cigarette.

            “Would they like me?” Frankie asked.

            “Yes,” Alex replied with certainty.

            “How do you know?”

            Alex curled closer to her, gazed in to her eyes, and said, “Because you make me happy.”

            “That’s it?” questioned Frankie.

            “Isn’t that what parents should want for their children—happiness?”

            Frankie inspected Alex’s bruised eye. “Yes, among other things.”

            “What’s more important than happiness?”

            “Security,” said Frankie.

            “Money,” corrected Alex, a bit agitated. “That’s it, right? That’s why your father doesn’t like me. I don’t come from money.”

            “No, security—protection from crazed crowds and unruly fans. I got spat at and called a slut on the way to the concert tonight. My dad is concerned for my safety.”

            He ran his hands through her hair and studied her face. “I guess I can understand that. Do you think your father will ever like me?”

            “Yes, I do,” she said.

            Frankie sat up in bed, pulling the sheets over her breasts. “It’s hard, you know—this business. Everyone’s trying to get something from you.” She clutched the edge of the blankets. “Can I tell you something that I never told anyone else before?”

            Alex puffed on his cigarette and gave her a curious stare. “Of course,” he said.

            “I was performing for this show once when I was sixteen. One night, when I was changing in the dressing room, this photographer snuck inside and took a picture of me topless. I was stunned and just felt so vulnerable. I remember wondering what kind of a creep would do that.”

            Alex chuckled. “I don’t know why anyone would want a picture of you topless.”

            “Shut up!” exclaimed Frankie. “I get it now. At the time it kind of freaked me out. I never told anyone—my dad, mother, or any friend. It made me wonder that if there were such freaks in this industry, then did I actually want to be a part of it.”

            “Yeah,” Alex said. “There are a lot of freaks in this industry, but there are a lot of freaks in general. You don’t have to be in the entertainment industry for freaks.”

            “Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone?” Frankie witnessed Alex’s expression squirm. “Tell me,” she pressed. “I told you, so now you have to tell me.”

            “Okay,” he said, lighting another cigarette. “I was in school, goofing around, and not paying attention. Next thing I know the teacher nailed me on the wrists with a ruler and told me I had to stay after class.”

            “Detention? You? I would have never guessed,” Frankie said lightly.

            Alex dragged nervously on his cigarette. “Well, that fucker had something else in mind.”

He paused to take another puff on the cigarette and then continued.  “While he had me writing some shit on the chalkboard, he came up behind me and grabbed my . . .”

            “Family jewels,” Frankie said, finishing his sentence.

            “Yeah,” Alex sighed. “Like you, I was stunned. I tell you, I tore out of that fucking place so fast and vowed never to go back.”

            Frankie sat upright with her arms firmly around his shoulders and asked, “So what happened?”

            “Well,” Alex said with a laugh, “my pop saw my bruised wrists and asked me what had happened.” He puffed on his cigarette. “So I told him what that motherfucker did to me. Next day, my pop, who was a boxer by the way, beat that crap out of that teacher. My pop said to him that if he ever messed with his son again there would be even worse, b
arney bubble."

            “Wow, so that was it? Was there another barney rubble?” asked Frankie with a slight giggle.

            “It ain’t funny,” Alex said. “Anyway, that teacher never messed with me again, but it didn’t matter. By then I was always cutting his class; I was serious about never going back. Surprisingly, though, I wound up passing the class.”

            Frankie chuckled and said. “He must have liked what he felt; I know I do.”

            “I’m not a fag,” Alex said strongly.

            “I know,” said Frankie. “Trust me, I know.” She put her arms around his shoulders. “It’s hard to shrug off that vulnerable feeling. Sometimes you feel like everyone is out to take advantage of you somehow. It seems as though everyone wants to get to that intimate, private place. I get it all the time. I know
that
look. And worst yet, people make excuses to brush up next to you, to feel you like they are entitled to feel you up because you’re famous. It’s horrible. You can’t help but feel guarded and always defensive.” Frankie sat forward in contemplation.

            She turned back to him. “You know it’s not me. I’m not that sexy girl in the picture—it’s just a picture. People think that however they see us is who we are, always judging the cover and not the book.” She laughed. “Most people don’t even want to take the time to read the book. They just want the cover. So if they see something sexy, they think you’re easy.”

            Alex ran his fingers through her wild mane of blonde hair. “I am so glad I took the time to read the book,” he said. “If I had only judged the cover, I’d be missing so much.”

            Frankie turned to him and smiled sweetly. “Me too,” she said.

            Alex rolled forward toward Frankie and buried his head between her neck and shoulder. She held him tightly around the shoulders and rubbed his back. The words came to her mind and she very much wanted to say them, but worried of the reaction.
It’s our last night,
she thought,
why not?

            “I love you,” she whispered in his ear.

            “I love you, too,” he said and then kissed her cheek.

 

            It was nearly 2:00 a.m. when Chase pulled into the Robinsons’ driveway. Everything was dark and all the lights were out in Frankie’s house except for the porch light. Alex got out of the back seat and then held out his hand for Frankie. As he walked her to the house, contemplating whether or not to give her a goodnight kiss, he half expected Marcus to be at the door with a shotgun.

            On the porch, Frankie proceeded to open the door and gestured for Alex to enter. “I was told I had to be home by two,” she said, “but he didn’t say that you had to leave.”

            Alex chuckled and said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

            “It’s my house too,” asserted Frankie.

            He gazed back at Chase, who was standing by the car, smoking a cigarette. “Go ahead,” said Chase. “I’ll just curl up in the back for a nap.”

            Alex was still unsure about following Frankie inside, but she seemed determined not to let him go just yet.

“Chase must be a saint, putting up with you guys,” she said, flipping on the kitchen light.

            “He’s a great friend,” Alex replied, looking through the patio door at the Robinsons’ pool. It was almost as big as the pool at the Hollywood mansion.

            “We can sit outside, but I think it’s too cold.” She grabbed a whole bunch of snacks—chips, cookies, and pretzels. “What kind of soda do you want? We have all kinds—cola, orange, cherry, and even grape.”

            “Grape,” he replied, still uncertain about staying.”

            With the snacks and sodas in her arms, she gestured toward the living room. “I love staying up late watching B-movies. There so bad, it’s funny, and sometimes you can catch a dirty movie,” she said with a wink.

            “That’s the last thing I need is for your father to catch us watching a dirty movie,” replied Alex as he followed her to the living room.

            “No, the last thing would be him catching us having sex, which isn’t going to happen,” she said with a smile, “We got that out of the way earlier.”

            Frankie plopped down on the couch and ripped open a bag of chips. She patted the seat of the couch. “Come on, don’t be a square.”

            Alex sat down next to her and grabbed a handful of chips. “If I am murdered tonight, my blood is on your hands.”
            “You are so paranoid. You’re not going to be murdered . . . maybe roughed up a bit, but not
murdered
,” she teased.

            Frankie turned through the channels and discovered an alien movie; it looked fun. She sat back on the couch, nestling next to Alex. She looked at him glued to the television while drinking his grape soda. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt if we made out for a little bit,” she whispered and then kissed his cheek and chin.

            Gazing down at her, he wanted to do so much more than kiss her; but he knew once the kissing started, things would get heavy pretty quickly. “Do you mind?” he whispered in her ear. “I’m trying to watch the movie.”

            “Let me fill you in,” replied Frankie. “People encounter aliens, the aliens suck out the humans’ brains, and then the hero rescues humanity from the evil aliens. The end,”

            “Oh, man,” replied Alex, reaching for a handful of chips, “you just ruined the whole thing for me.”

            Frankie turned to face him, not to be denied a kiss. He laughed and kissed her back. It was then that the lights of the hallway flickered on and footsteps could be heard. Frankie quickly maneuvered herself away from Alex and sat alongside him. Within seconds Marcus appeared in his pajamas and robe.

            “I thought I heard noises,” he said, looking intently at Alex.

            “It was the aliens on TV,” replied Frankie casually.

            “Uh-huh,” he grunted sleepily, but there would be no sleep for Marcus tonight.   

            “We were back by two,” said Frankie. “So we’re going to hang out for a while.”

            Marcus regarded the situation—Frankie wearing Alex’s tuxedo coat over her gown and sitting way too close to Alex for Marcus’s comfort. He nodded, unsure what to do, and then headed back up to his bedroom.

            When he reached the bedroom he nudged his wife awake. “He’s downstairs.”

            Geraldine checked the clock and then laid her head back down. “Marcus, she’s twenty years old. If she wants to be up all night with a boy, we should let her.”