Proof

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

(POV: Frankie)


"Hey Cal," I mumble, trying my best to sound sultry. Earlier, I'd privately invited her to the beach so that we could... say a proper goodbye. 

Or, at least, that's what I wanted her to think.

As far as I'm concerned, a proper goodbye to Cal would be a middle finger and a grin, but I needed her to think that there was still a spark between us. She was easy to sway, but it would take some legitimate work to get her to turn her back on Taylor. Even for a moment-- but a moment was all that I needed.

I had Rowan's phone placed haphazardly in my hoodie pocket, already set and recording, it was nearly foolproof, so long as I didn't drop it in the ocean. I tried not to make it obvious that I had it, since our phones had all been confiscated, but I also didn't want the soft material of my pocket to muffle our voices. 

All I needed was for her to say it, loud and clear. 

That would be proof enough. 

"You getting tired of your little camp romance?" She says, noticing me and offering up a frustratingly pleased smirk. She crosses her arms poignantly under her chest to push up her tits. Very subtle, Cal. I hardly noticed. 

"Yeah, I guess Rowan just doesn't get me like you do," I reply, cringing inwardly. It was like dialogue from a bad nineties movie-- and, much like the actors of the time, I simply didn't mean a word of it. The sentence seemed to crawl off of my tongue like thousands of tiny spiders escaping their nest, leaving an unpleasant feeling tickling me in the back of the throat. I couldn't wait to get this over with. 

"I'm not surprised," She mumbles, stepping closer. Gross. I have to stop myself from stepping back. This felt so fucking wrong. 

"Oh yeah?" I ask, my voice cracking. I couldn't do this. I loved Rowan. 

"Yeah," She grabs my hand, and my body goes cold. Fuck. "She's... sticky sweet, and baby-faced, and can't help but follow the rules. I mean, come on, Frankie. She's just like every other straight girl who wants to feel different for a change-- we can all tell that she's only interested in you for the... adventure," She clicks her tongue against her teeth and I shift uncomfortably on my feet. The fuck was that supposed to mean? As far as adventures go, I was a pretty lame one. If Cal was really interested in rekindling things with me, going straight for an underhanded insult was not exactly the most direct route. But, I had to play along.

"I need someone who can keep up with me," I reply, numbly, reaching for her second hand. Did that sound like movie dialogue? I think it worked. Kind of. I didn't really know what I was trying to say, but I'd leave it up to her interpretation. As long as I kept up the low, lurid voice. 

"And what do you mean by that?" She mumbles, coming in just a little bit closer. I could feel her breath on my neck, and it sent a prickly shudder down my spine. I stop myself from rolling my eyes. 

"I need you, Cal. I want you," I murmur back. Now, I certainly wouldn't be winning any academy awards, but I was doing okay. I've faked it before, I can do it again. 

"How am I supposed to believe that?" She whispers, her tone suddenly shifting. Fuck. I was laying it on a little too thick. "You're the one who dumped me, remember?" She scoffs, suddenly releasing my hands. Shit, shit, shit. 

"I know--" I reach for her again, narrowly grabbing her wrist as she stepped back. "And I was wrong-- I, uh, I miss you," I stammer, trying to convince her with my eyes not to walk away. I really did need her, just not in the way that she thinks. 

"Prove it, then," She mutters, her chin set in determination. This little bitch. Did she really want me to...? Fuck it. 

"Fine," I half-grumble ambling up to her. I grab her forcefully by the head, tilt her face up to meet mine, and press my lips against hers. Her body melts into mine, but I barely feel it. I'm still, and mechanically moving my lips against hers. She's burying her hands in my hair and pulling me down, down, down towards her but all I can think about is Rowan. How she giggles when we kiss, how her hair gets tangled between my knuckles like knotted midnight threads, how every single time she kisses me, I feel weak at my knees. I love her. 

And this? This felt like betrayal. This might have been too far. 

I pull away, resisting the urge to wipe my lips, wipe away my shame. Yuck. Her lips had been rough, from endless nibbling, and she tasted of licorice-- the only candy I couldn't stomach. Everything was wrong. 

"Okay. You convinced me," She smirks at me, as though we shared something. As though there was some kind of spark between us. As though we now held a secret that nobody else could be a part of. All of the things I never wanted with her. I smile sheepishly. 

"Oh--" I say, feigning forgetfulness. "I... guess that will be our last kiss. I'm getting kicked out of camp. And Grove Street Girl's home. So..." I trail off, hoping she'll come to my rescue. She stares at me, her brow furrowed. 

"Well, that doesn't have to be it--" She exclaims, stumbling over her words, as if she'd never expected this outcome. 

"But it is. Taylor accused me of punching her, and I've had too many strikes in the past month for Marley to believe that I didn't do it--"

"--Well, of course you didn't do it. I did it," She interrupts. Boo-yah, motherfucker. 

"What?" I say, chuckling slightly. Time to really sell this bitch. She wrings her wrists, clearly uncomfortable. Cal never truly set out with bad intentions, but she easily got wrapped up in Taylor's bullshit. She wasn't bad, and she maybe didn't deserve to be used like this but-- come on, do I really have any other options?

"Taylor convinced me to do it. Give her the black eye, and pretend it was you. She wanted you gone, and I was so mad at you and jealous of Rowan-- I wanted you gone, too--" 

I clench my jaw. Damn. I mean, I knew that's what had happened. I obviously didn't fucking do it. But hearing Cal admit it, just like that... it made me shake. It was so simple for Taylor to fuck with me, and I had to jump through hoops just to get out of it. It was complete bullshit. 

"I'm sorry," Cal whispers, and I realize I was just standing there, silent. I shake my head. 

"Not your fault," I mutter. But it was. I mean, not really. But it bothered me, genuinely. I'd never done anything to hurt Cal. We were friends, I mean, we were more than friends. I've literally felt both of her fucking tits-- and she just.. blindly agrees to help have me sent away? I matter that little to her? Fuck. 

"I'm sorry," She repeats again, this time reaching out for my face. I flinch away, and, even though tonight had all just been an act, it's genuine. If she wanted to hurt me, then she got exactly what she wanted. 

"Goodbye, Cal," I mumble, turning on my heel. I didn't want anything to do with her. And, I got what I needed. 

The waves lapped softly on the shore, and as I walked down the beach, away from Cal, I wondered just how many seconds before my footprints were gone.



Returning to the campfire, I instantly spot Rowan and Blake out of the corner of my eye. Just as we'd discussed, they were keeping Taylor occupied while I had Cal cornered down on the beach. I watched for a second, noticing how... calm they all were. Rowan was laughing, and twirling her long braid around her finger. Blake was re-enacting some sort of crazy scene, with wild eyes and full-body movements. And Taylor-- she looked happy. An expression I didn't often see on her face. I'd sort of expected Blake to start some sort of fight with her to keep her distracted, but the two of them seemed to be managing just fine with their sunny dispositions. 

I smile to myself. It makes me wonder what things could have looked like if I'd never showed up at Grove Street. Or, more optimistically, if Taylor and I had settled our differences long ago. Could we have been friends? Could I have helped her? Is it really all my fault that she isn't okay?

Rowan glances up, noticing me. She gives me a look, raising her eyebrows, and I nod. I got it. She nudges Blake, who gives me a subtle glance and offering their own nod. Playing spies could have been fun, if they stakes weren't so god damn high. Rowan excuses herself, gingerly patting Blake's shoulder, and heading towards me. 

"You got it?" She whispers as we instantly start walking off down the road, leaving Blake among the hubbub. I hand her her phone and shrug. 

"I did. It was easy," I mumble, stuffing my hands in my pockets. The night air was unwelcoming, and I could practically feel each individual hair on my body stand on its end. Rowan grabs me by the elbow, sitting down near the base of a tree. I sit beside her, wrapping an arm around her back and kissing the side of her head. She smiles, while unraveling a pair of earbuds she'd stored in her own hoodie. 

"We better listen to this before we go wake up Marley," She mumbles, handing me an earbud. I accept it, giving her a nervous look. She presses play. 

We listen. We pause. 

"Frankie," Rowan says, quietly. I swallow. "This clip is only thirty seconds long," She points out. I grab the phone from her, scrolling through the audio recordings. "Did you put your hands in your pocket?" Her voice is raising in pitch, and suddenly I'm no longer feeling so cold. 

"I-- yeah, I wanted to make sure that my hoodie didn't muffle anything," I stammer incredulously. 

"You must have turned the recording off. All I can hear is you walking on the beach," Her voice drops, and she rips the earbud out of her ear, standing abruptly. "Fuck!" She lets out, throwing her hands up to her head. 

"Baby--" I start, standing up to her level, pocketing the phone. I fucked up. I seriously, royally fucked up, and I'd never seen her so upset.

"Frankie, we're screwed." She mumbles, pulling away from me as I reach out to hold her. Her eyes are full of tears, but there's a tangible frustration in the air. I cross my arms, not sure what to say, not even sure how I feel, yet. She covers her face with her hands. "We're fucked," She repeats, resting her back forcefully on another tree. 

"Ro-- I'm screwed. I mean, this is my mistake, my enemy, my problem-- I'm the one who has to leave my home; you'll be fine..." I trail off, trying to cease my frustration. She scoffs. 

"You can't seriously think this is just your problem, Frankie! I get that this is seriously bad for you-- but I'm not just some fucking bystander. You can't just tell me you love me and then just fucking leave," She mumbles in a low, dangerous voice, furiously brushing a loose tear off of her dimpled cheek.

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" I grumble back, defeated. I mean, what the hell can I do? I tried. And I fucked it up. Just like everything else. She lets out a sob, and my heart breaks.

"Please don't go,"

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net