<div class="floatleft">(http://i48.tinypic.com/awbx3q.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>: Tabitha "Frankie" Franks<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Walking to the school<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Jade and anybody else<br/><strong>Date</strong>: July 28, 2012<br/><strong>Time</strong>: 8:00 (ish) AM<br/><hr/><br/>Frankie smiled as Jade looked over her hands and complimented her. She started to say "Thanks", but was cut short by Jade slapping her palm, calling her an idiot, and then breaking out into peals of laughter. Frankie rubbed her palms together briefly, before returning her cigarette to its place between her fingers and flicking ash off into the wind. "Yeah...yeah I get what you're saying." Her hands were important to her. In fact, without them, she might as well grab an old hat and park it on the sidewalk. Cut her pants into denim underwear and stand on the corner again with Robbie. Shoot herself and get it over with.<em>Nope, shooting requires fingers.</em><br/><br/>She forced herself back to paying attention as Jade started getting into the "one thing and one thing only".<em>Guess I'll just add this rule to the rest of them,</em>she thought to herself as she nodded enthusiastically. "Personalities. Right."<em>Rules...Enforce the door to the apartment. No one can be trusted. Everyone and their mother are thieves. Get a weapon. Everyone is fake...Christ, I'm screwed.</em>Frankie wasn't cut out for this. She didn't go smashing through people's doors, she knocked on them. She didn't make it a habit to lie or be fake with people, in fact, she attempted to just be Frankie. That was freakin' hard enough as it was.<br/><br/>Jade was still talking and Frankie found herself struggling to catch up for a moment. "I don't glare at anybody...I don't think," she mumbled half to herself, half to Jade. She'd only barely figured out where the conversation was when Jade flipped it on her again. The woman's emotions were flipping about like a ping-pong ball. "Plan? Yeah...yeah I've got a plan."<em>Did she just threaten me? Okay then...</em>She forced a grin and tossed her cigarette butt into the gutter, stepping off the sidewalk and onto the grass that ran the length of the fields at the High School. "See that field, over there?" She pointed down further, where tiny shapes in red and yellow jerseys were running back and forth between a pair of soccer goals. "Soccer practice. They all leave their bags over there by the bleachers," she explained, pointing further away to a few metal bleachers that were directly backed by the sidewalk leading past the school and back in town.<br/><br/>"Last time I did this, I just got on the sidewalk, walked down there, scooped up a bag and kept walking." She shrugged. "They're too far away to see over here. It's only practice, so no one is sitting up here to watch and the parking lot is all the way on the other side of the field."<em>And I'm young. I look like I belong in this place. I probably could have. I could be running out in that field, kicking a stupid ball around, waiting for my parents to come pick me up and take me home and ask me "Have a good practice? You husslin' out there?"</em>Except none of that had happened and Frankie sucked at soccer.