THIS IS AN UNEDITED AND SIGNIFICANTLY DIFFERENT VERSION OF THE MISFORTUNES OF LOLITA. I AM PUBLISHING IT IN FALL 2021—PLEASE FOLLOW ME ON IG @/ls.akhter and GOODREADS (L AKHTER) TO STAY UPDATED. I am so excited to share TMoL with you again.
CHAPTER 11
There is a part of me that knows this is temporary. Fleeting. He will leave one day - and the terrifying part is that this doesn't make me want to run from him. It only makes me want to hold on tighter. - Lolita's Journal
"Um," was what Lolita said when Cora handed her the dry outfit.
"What?" Cora asked, and Frank brushed his hair with the towel, leaning on the ledge of the door and folding his arms, the towel hanging from his fingers.
Lolita held the dress in her hands. "This looks like a party dress,"
"That's 'cause it is a party dress. It's the only extra one I brought." Cora was all smiles.
"I don't really need the dry clothes," Lolita said, staring at the white mini-dress. "We're leaving now, anyway." Then she grimaced as little drops of rainwater splashed as she moved her hair back.
"You're not getting my mom's car seat wet, missy." Cora said, and dragged her to the washroom, closing the door once Lolita was inside. Lolita protested behind the closed door, and Cora gave Frank a mischievous grin.
"You're welcome," she mouthed, wiggling her eyebrows, and Frank rolled his eyes.
"Cora," Lolita yelled from inside the washroom. "This dress looks like shit on me,"
"I'm not here," Cora whispered to Frank as she brushed past him, and he grabbed her by her elbow.
"What are you doing?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes this time.
"Frank, are you dense?" she said. "I'm going back to the party. You two... do whatever,"
"You think I brought her here to sleep with her," he blinked.
"Frank," Cora whispered. "No. No. But, I mean -"
"I told you, Cor," he said. "She's -"
"Rain, and a storm, and something different." She said. "I know. I'm sorry."
"She's good." Frank smiled, like the lovesick fool that he most definitely was.
Cora's eyebrows furrowed, her head cocked to one side, and for the first time, Cora looked at Frank in a way that he'd never seen her look at him. "Oh, Frank,"
"What?"
"You're in deep, aren't you?"
"Yep."
"Good." She said. "Treat the girl right, will ya?"
"Um," Lolita leaned just her head from behind the washroom door, her long hair damp and falling free. "And I need help with the zipper,"
"I gotta go!" Cora waved at Lolita, kissing Frank's cheek and leaving him at the doorway as he stared at Lolita openmouthed. To be fair, her expression was similar.
"Did she just leave?" Lolita said, her voice shaky.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.
Lolita put one hand over her chest to hold the dress up, and one hand on her back to where the zipper ended, and walked out of the washroom, her lips pressed onto one another. The white dress hugged every curve, every dip and tide of her body, and came up to her mid-thighs, and in short, Frank understood why Cora had been so sly.
"Can you..." she started, looking anywhere but at Frank. "Um, find me a shirt?"
"Yeah..." Frank said, his voice sounding dry to his own ears. "Okay,"
She tried to tuck her hair behind her ear, failing, and smiled as he walked across the room without direction, his head not clear. Lolita's lashes were damp and her hands were shaking a little in the cold, and her hair was even longer, darker - like a curtain had closed in, and when she smiled, she looked at him in a way that made his heart want to leap out of his chest. "Wait, what did you want me to do?"
She closed her eyes as a lock of her hair fell to her face. "Shit. Shit."
Frank walked over to her, holding his breath as he brushed her hair back. She smiled at him, her eyes downcast. He felt as though there was a tornado flying inside his chest, sweeping every corner of the cage his heart resided in, and crashing everything inside.
"Shirt." She muttered.
"Shirt," his voice was equally quiet. "Right." He didn't move, though. He couldn't. He couldn't grasp what was happening - he hadn't exactly imagined being with Lolita alone inside a bedroom with her dress unzipped.
Fuck.
"Wait, first -" Lolita wouldn't look at him. "I can't keep standing like this. Can you zip me up?"
Dear god.
Frank gulped, nodding as she turned around and let go of the end of the zipper she was holding up, and he fingered the pull tab, the warmth from her skin radiating on to him. There were birth marks, little dots on her back at random places, covering the smooth skin like stars on a sky - and all Frank wanted to do was connect each dot to form a hundred constellations.
"This is so cliché," Lolita whispered.
"Right?" Frank's thumb brushed the skin of her back softly, and he grazed it with his nail, and her shoulders shifted up. "Damn cliché."
"Mmhm," she gulped, her hand moving away from her chest so she could pull her all her hair to one side. Frank touched the skin beneath her shoulder blade, and she let out a short breath.
Frank had never really thought that anyone's damn shoulder blades would remind him of angel wings - but here he was, standing, staring at the damp skin of her back, thinking of how unbearably beautiful she was.
He pulled the tab up until it was almost zipped the entire way, and then he leaned closer, brushing his lips along the skin of her shoulder, and then up her neck, right to her jaw. Lolita closed her eyes, and Frank put his hands on her waist, his fingers lingering on the curve of her hips.
"I hate this dress," she whispered.
"I kind of like it," he said.
Lolita smiled, and he kissed the skin beneath her ear, and he pulled back, letting out a breath that felt like a cloud. She turned around. "What did you want me to do again?" he asked.
"I..." she said, looking at him as he stood. Her eyes sparkled in the yellow-gold light of the room. "Frank."
"I lost my train of thought," he said.
Lolita bit onto her bottom lip. "Lost?"
"It crashed. The train."
"Crashed?"
"Blew up," Frank's voice became quieter as she stepped closer to him. "exploded."
Lolita smiled, and Frank pulled her closer, his hands on her waist. "What are we talking about again?"
"You're funny," she said, quietly.
"Am I?" he muttered, leaning closer and resting his forehead on hers. She looked up at him, her cheeks flushed, her body radiating warmth onto his.
"I'm going to miss you, Frank." Lolita said.
"Hm?"
"I'm going to miss you," she said. "I'm going to miss you."
Frank brushed his lips on hers, for a fleeting moment. "You won't have to."
"Okay," Lolita whispered, and then smiled, which made Frank glance at her lips. "Good."
Frank pulled her in tighter. "I want to dance with you again,"
"That was so impulsive," she laughed. "I just..."
"Let's do it again."
"Right now?"
"Right now."
---
"Your principal phoned me," As Frank grabbed his toast and bacon, he stopped as his mother spoke.
"Why?" he asked, wondering how he'd missed the signs on his mother's face. He should have known she was upset from the way her jaw was tight, and her hair was flatter, and her eyebrows were softly furrowed. Those were dead giveaways.
"Why didn't you join the football team yet?" she asked, pressing her fingers to her temple as he put the toast down on his plate.
"Gullet called because of that?" Frank said. "Are you serious?"
"Frank," she said.
"Mama -"
"I know you think I'm a drama queen, Frank." Martha looked at him steadily. "But I don't know what you're thinking. We can't afford your schooling as is. And the fact that you're not joining the team despite the scholarship Mr. Gullet has offered - "
"I don't want to join the football team, mama." Frank said, feeling a heaviness in his chest that he thought had subsided in the past few days.
"Do not interrupt me, Frank." Her jaw tightened. Frank leaned back, surprised from this reaction.
"Mama, are you okay?"
"I'm not okay, Frank!" she yelled. "Don't you understand the situation we're in?"
Frank looked down at his plate.
"We can't afford to send you to college," she said, grasping onto her glass of water. "We can't fucking afford it. The only shot you've got is playing in the teams and hoping you'll get a scholarship offer from any of the colleges you applied to."
"If we can't afford it, I'll find another way." Frank stood up, walking to the kitchen and turning the faucet on warm, full blast. He washed his fingers in the water, hissing as the hot water seared his skin.
"You'll find another way?" she asked.
"Yeah, mama." Frank grabbed his backpack.
"That would be just perfect, Frank," she said. He looked up. "That would be just damn perfect. But perfect things don't happen to us. I hope you haven't forgotten that -" she motioned around their messy apartment, " - because of your new girl."
"This isn't about Lolita." He said, his voice louder, foreign to his own ears. He wondered where his father was - why he wasn't here right now, calming his mother down. Then he wanted to slap himself for even thinking his dad would be here - maybe he really had gotten his realities switched up.
Martha grabbed his arm. "No, listen to me, Frank Novak. People like us don't get miracles - we don't get happy things most of the time and we don't have the privilege to pass up on opportunities like this." She looked at Frank, her green eyes a muddier colour. "Cora did it for this family. She worked her ass off and got a scholarship. You have to do it too."
"I'm doing my part, mama, and you know it." Frank said. "I'm the one who has to carry my incompetent father inside every damn night - "
"We've been dealt many bad cards, but this conversation is not about that card, Frank," Martha's voice was shrill. "You will go to school today, and you'll request Mr. Gullet to sign you up, even though the season's already started. Do you understand?"
"No," Frank said, opening the main door. "I'm not joining the team."
"If you'd just stop being selfish for two seconds, Frank -"
He turned around, and his mother shrank back. Frank flinched. "Yeah. You're right. I won't be selfish anymore."
"Frank."
He didn't shut the door behind him as he stormed out.
--
"The human brain," Doug yelped. Yelped - like a dog. To Frank, his voice was just that annoying. "Is a mystery to us, even now."
"I love the human brain," Lolita whispered.
I love you.
"I know," Frank whispered back, a smile etching on his face as he saw her lean forward in anticipation as Doug yelped more.
She glanced at him. "You look like death."
"Thank you." It had become a routine for Lolita to say this every time Frank was angry, or tired, or upset because of his less-than-sparkly home life.
She took his hand under their table, and he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back.
Frank almost didn't even notice the remarks made by their peers anymore. Almost.
"They're still at it," Lana muttered loud enough - as always - as Doug stopped his lesson and handed out worksheets with at least twenty diagrams of the brain. "How long has it been, Sarah?"
"A month and a half." Sarah said, scandalously. Frank kept his eyes closed.
"Never pegged him as a guy who goes for girls who are easier to get, I guess." Lana sighed loudly.
Frank opened his eyes as Lolita burst into laughter so loud, that the entire class fell quiet. Lana coughed, and Frank glanced back to see her cheeks bright red.
"Is there a problem, Lolita?" Doug boomed.
"No," Lolita giggled. "Sir. Nothing."
"Good," he seemed confused. "Aren't you a ball of sunshine?"
"Yeah." She breathed, swallowing her laughter with difficulty. "Um, my apologies."
Frank looked at her as she glanced down at her notebook, her hand still in his, and smiled.
"What just happened?" he whispered.
"Something Lana said," she bit the inside of her cheek, looking like she was about to laugh again.
"Alright," Frank smiled.
"Come over today." she said to him, and he looked at her in surprise.
"You're happy." He said.
"Yes," she said, glancing back at him. "I really am."
For a second, Frank wished he could say the same - and then he realized that he could. Even though his mind was a warzone and his house felt like a prison most of the time, he felt a calmness inside his heart that he couldn't shake away. He felt himself settle, and he wasn't a fool - or maybe he was, because the other thing he couldn't shake away from his heart was Lolita.
--
"It's a mess." Lolita said, looking at the pile of her writing journals.
"It really is." Frank laughed.
"You're helping me clean these up, afterwards." She smiled, and he nearly lost it then and there. She smiled at him a lot nowadays and every time she did, goddammit, Frank thought his heart would beat hard enough to leave bruises under his ribcage.
They'd walked straight to Lolita's apartment - and he was glad for it. He didn't want to speak to his mother again, especially since he had no intention of joining the football team.
If you'd just stop being selfish for two seconds, Frank -
"I write a lot, obviously," she scratched her head, and he leaned into her, pressing a kiss to her lips and leaning back. She looked at him, her mouth parted. He leaned in again.
"Okay," Lolita leaned back, after both their breaths had gotten too heavy. "Alright."
"Right," he said.
"I have a box," Lolita said. "Of things that make me happy."
Frank looked at her.
Lolita was a sad story, told twice over - except, she wasn't. She wasn't just a sad story. She was a whole universe unto herself. She was a girl with multitudes, and dimensions, and layers, and she was more than just a sad story. And each day he spent with her, he got to see the layers - the little things that he didn't notice before.
She went to the corner of her room, picked up a mint green shoe box, and brought it to her bed.
"My mom always told me to count my blessings," she smiled at Frank. "So, I literally counted my blessings."
"Is it full?" Frank said. The worn box had quotes written all over it with black ink, in Lolita's pretty writing.
"No," she said. "But almost."
"Can I read some of them?" Frank asked.
"Yes," she said. "I think you need a cheer-up."
Frank looked at her, and then opened the box.
It was nearly filled with little used metro tickets. He picked one up and she explained, "They're bus transfers. I get one every time I feel like putting something in the box, because they have the time and date printed on them,"
"Smart," he said.
"Read one,"
"Okay," he picked up a transfer. "The hipster boy who slipped on the perfectly dry floor in the middle of his walk."
"It was insanely funny." Lolita said, smiling in the memory.
"The stranger who opened the door for me today," he picked up and read another. The more he read, the more he felt the heaviness inside of him recede, replaced by something lighter. Rosier. He never thought Lolita would be the one to make him feel rosy and cotton candy flavoured, but here she was, with all her big smiles and her big eyes, looking at him hopefully as he read.
"It was really nice of him."
"Frank," he read, and Lolita smiled.
"Frank." She said, and she reached inside the box, and took out another paper. "Frank. Most people are lit matches. You're the goddamn morning sun." She took out another paper. "Frank."
Frank pulled her face to his, and when they kissed, there was fire beneath his eyelids, between his ribs, on his fingertips. There was fire everywhere - and it began to thaw all the parts of him that he thought had frozen over.
--
I get tons of questions on where Lolita is from, so to clear up any confusion, Lolita is brown. South-asian. To be clear, Lolita is bengali. Her last name, "Abri" is bengali. Her country of origin is Bangladesh.
I won't answer on if Lolita is fat or skinny -- that's just not something that matters.
ALSO, I'd appreciate it if any TFIOS related comments are avoided.
I hope you liked this chapter! There's drama ahead, believe me. I have great things(well, not great for the characters) planned.
Dedicated to Shirley for making me a cover for this story, even though I did not end up using it. Love you, girly <3
Do you guys like the current cover, though?
And I want to do a One-Shot contest, so leave your ideas for the competition below! I don't know what kind of one-shot it should be. It doesn't have to be related to TMoL.