Chapter 15 : Almost Sleepless Night
Franchesca P.O.V.
I woke up under the covers of my warm bed with Anthony beside me. He was lying down above the covers and had his left arm under my head.
“What happened?” I whispered into the darkness. Anthony instantly woke up.
“Franchesca? Are you alright?” He asked, concerned.
“I’m fine. What happened?” I started to sit up, but Anthony held me down.
“You shouldn’t try that. You got knocked out by Mark. Do you remember that?”
“M-Mark knocked me out?” To say the least, I was shocked.
“Oh no. This isn’t so good.” Pause. “Maybe you should go back to sleep. We’ll check it out later. You probably just need rest.” Truth be told, I was still a little bit drowsy.
“Yeah. I will.” I snuggled back into Anthony’s side, and fell into a blissful sleep.
“’Night, Beautiful.”
Anthony P.O.V.
“’Night, Beautiful.” Was the last words I said to Franchesca before she fell asleep. She looked so peaceful; like she had no worries in the world. I know I’ve said that before; in the cab. But this time, in bed, she just looked so… beautiful.
I must’ve watched her for hours. I distracted myself by finger combing her hair and getting rid of all of those tangles. She had the most silkiest hair my fingers have ever touched. She really is a true, pure beauty. I had to remember to beat-up Mark later on. Franchesca was lucky that Mark’s blow didn’t break her jaw. Knowing Mark, it probably would’ve. But right then, I needed to be there for my best friend. Stay with her for the night. I looked around the room, and I could see past my empty bed that Derek was fidgeting in his sleep. Probably because he was stressed out about what happened earlier that night. Paul was sleeping on the bed past Derek’s, snoring as loud as a tractor. Thank God that Franchesca was completely oblivious to the fact. Mark’s bed was empty. After our little fight, he left. For what reason, I don’t know. He just… left. Without a single word. I looked back at Franchesca, and as the sun was starting to set, I fell asleep again.
Mark P.O.V.
When I ran out of Connor Stanley that night, I couldn’t help but feel guilty. I hit a girl. But not just any girl, I hit Franchesca. She was the girl that none of us could stop talking about. The one that was so close to what every functional guy wanted: hot, and food loving. According to Anthony, she was also the mystery girl. The girl that I kissed at the Ball. I couldn’t help but believe him, because as soon as I really focused on her face, I knew it was her. The silky dark brown hair, full lips, and, when I really thought about it, I remembered where I saw the dark brown eyes before. I saw it on Frank. Franchesca. Frank. Ugh, whatever.
I quickly hailed down a cab and got in. “Upper East Side.”
“Yes, sir.” The cab started, and we darted into Manhattan traffic. I didn’t care whether Kiana was awake or not. I just knew she was lying. She couldn’t have slept with Frank if Frank was Franchesca. I’m pretty sure she’s not gay. Like Uncle George.
“Hey, baby. I knew you would come back,” Kiana said as she trailed her finger down my torso when she opened the door. We made our way to the living room.
“Don’t.” I grabbed her hand, just as it was trailing my stomach. I lifted if off me, and Kiana looked at me with a confused look.
“Baby, what’s wrong? Aren’t you here so you can say ‘sorry’, and fix everything between us?” Fuck. She is so full of herself sometimes.
YOU ARE READING
Double Identity
Teen Fiction“That was marvelous!” He said. “Great job, Frank. Or, should I say, Franchesca?” I took a deep breath. A very, very deep breath. “Oh my God,” Was the most intelligent thing I could say. “’Oh my God’ is correct. How long have you been lying to us?” “...
