"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" I mumbled in panic as I searched frantically for my friend past the line of parked cars. "Where is she? She has to be in one of these cars! Where are you, Frankie?"
Francesca Venturini – also known as Frankie – was my crazy and hectic best friend, currently located inside one of the many cars sitting in this dimly lit parking lot.
Today was the first day of summer break, and an amusement park crew had been hired for the summer to take over operating the Fairground. Tonight was supposed to be The Grand Opening Night and Frankie made me come.
I wasn't particularly excited about going to the Fair this year. All I really wanted was a break from the people from school, and I knew many of them were going to be at the Fair tonight. I had been counting the seconds for summer to start so I could finally leave school and the people who had made my life a living hell for the past two months.
Now that I had my long-awaited freedom, the prospect of meeting my tormentors again wasn't exactly something I was excited about. But Frankie had fiercely argued when I tried to bail out of it, saying it was mandatory for all cool kids to be present at the opening night, so we had to go, because "the future of our social lives depended on it".
I couldn't care less about my current nonexistent social life. Frankie on the other hand, thought otherwise. We had to at least make an effort, she told me as we were both hanging precariously on the social ladder. One more slip and we'd be crawling at the bottom of the steps, and she wouldn't let that happen to us.
So I made the effort and let her drag me to the Fair. I knew I had no chance to be popular, but I didn't want to be at the deepest bottom of that blasted ladder either. If I had to endure a few hours of festivities to help our case, so be it.
I really would rather be reading a nice book in peace back home though.
The first thing we did when we arrived was to head straight toward the Game booths to try to win some prizes. When she got tired of playing games, we decided on food. It was always a good way to solve a lag at any event. Finding the caramelized popcorn stand, Frankie and I wolfed down our munchies only for Frankie to then ditch me to hook up with some boy.
They were soon frolicking in the backseat of his truck, while I held up a spot on the cold curb near the parking lot entrance, waiting patiently for their make-out session to end.
Why was I sitting there waiting for my best friend when I could be doing something else, you ask?
Well, firstly, because I wasn't confident enough to wander around the Fair alone. I have a ton of self-esteem issues and I also don't have the guts to walk around without any company. I silently stress about what others may be thinking about me until I'm a big pile of worry, sweat, and nervous ticks. The whole thing ends up with me having a meltdown. It's not a pretty thing to see.
Secondly, I already know exactly what people will think when they see me walking alone. I'd be the 'weirdo loser loner' and the taunting and provocations would start all over again. All of my efforts to avoid the bottom of that stupid social ladder would go to waste then.
So, to avoid all that, I decided to sit at the parking lot entrance all by myself – just like a certified loser would do. Take that, social ladder, beat you to it!
Yes, I get the paradox I'm in right now, there's no need to point it out to me, thanks. I'm a loser if I stay, I'm a loser if I go. Maybe Loserville is the place where I truly belong and I should stop fighting against my inevitable fate…
While I patiently waited, sat on that dirty-looking curb alone, I kept pondering about my stupid life decisions because let's face it, there was nothing else left for me to do. I came to the Fair with Frankie, in Frankie's car (that was a rookie mistake all right), and now I couldn't leave and I was stuck here, waiting for my friend to drive me back home.
I should have seen this coming, though. Frankie was in her boys-are-the-greatest-thing-in-the-world phase and every time we went somewhere, she would find a way to meet some random dude to hook up with.
She always apologizes later for ditching me, and I always forgive her, because that's what friends do.
Despite her constant ditches, I couldn't afford to be mad at Frankie for too long. I knew she meant well and didn't do it on purpose. She just liked boys. A lot. And she was literally my only friend. If I lost Frankie, I wouldn't have a single friend left.
Plus, this guy she met today could be her soulmate or the love of her life… What type of friend would I be if I stood in the way of true love?
Luckily, I wasn't into boys that much. They didn't hold the same appeal to me as they did to Frankie, and they certainly weren't these alluring and irresistible creatures that my hectic best friend thought they were. Despite all that, I still tried to be supportive and understanding of Frankie's needs.
And that was what I was doing, waiting for her needs to be fulfilled in the backseat of a stranger's truck. I would have waited for as long as I had to because I knew that Frankie would do the same for me. She was always there for me, even though I was the loser loner that no one wanted to talk to.
A few people in our school didn't like Frankie very much, because she refused to let people dictate how many boys she should date, how she should dress, or what she should do. She never apologized for who she was. She was a free spirit and I admired her a lot.
So, while I waited for her, a certain someone had been lurking close by. It had been a pleasant surprise when I spotted those bright eyes watching me from the pavement on the other side of the parking lot.
It was the most beautiful cat I've ever seen. His fur was so dark, it made him almost disappear in the shadows, but at the same time, it had a beautiful dark glow, if that was even a thing that could exist. If it wasn't for his bright eyes reflecting the light of the lamppost nearby, I would never have spotted him there. He wore the dark like a cloak wrapped all around him. I could see his tail moving lazily as he watched me from the other side of the lot.
And then I had to bloody call him.
"Here, you. Come here."
Why did I have to call him? Why?!
"There she is!" I shouted and ran to the only car that had its windows slightly fogged up. "Frankie!" I called out to her, yanking the passenger side door like a lunatic.
"Mia! What the hell?" Frankie shrieked, pushing the boy on top of her away.
"Frankie, we have to go!" I cried out in panic.
"What? Why? What happened?" She scrambled around on the back seat and scooted closer to the door.
"It's an emergency! You have to come with me!" I pleaded.
"Hey, babe? You can't leave me like this! We have to finish some things here!" Her current hook-up complained, glaring daggers at me as he pouted like a giant baby.
I couldn't care less about his stupid glares. "Frankie, it's bad! I need you. I can't-" My voice broke down at the end and my eyes filled with tears.
"Oh, boy. It's really serious. Hold on, I'm coming." She swatted What's-his-face's hands away from her and darted out of the car. "You can finish this by yourself, Bobby. You heard her, she needs me! I have to go!"
We ran to the parking lot's entrance, my heart thumping loudly in my chest while my feet stomped on the graveled floor.
"Mia! Hold on! Can you at least tell me what's going on?" Frankie huffed as she ran after me.
"It's my fault! I did this, Frankie! If I hadn't called him…" I sobbed, kneeling on the gravel lot. "He was hit because of me!" I cried out. The car had come out of nowhere while he crossed the road trying to reach me. Neither of us saw it coming.
"Oh, Mia…" Frankie's voice was full of sympathy as she took in what was in front of her. She knew how much I loved animals, how much I loved cats more than anything. "Did you see who did it?" She asked kneeling down next to me.
"N-no. I was so shocked, I couldn't even scream. He was crossing the road because I was calling him, Frankie. You have to help me! We need to take him to Marie."
I picked his frail battered body off the dirty gravel and cradled him carefully in my arms.
"Hm, Mia? I think he's dead, hon." Frankie commented hesitantly.
"He's not! He's still breathing. Come on, take us home!" I ordered.
"Alright, alright." She said and followed me back to her car. "Marie is not going to be happy about this, you know that, right?"
"She'll understand. I'm responsible for this accident, Frankie. I have to take him home so she can fix him!"
This wasn't the first time I had brought an injured animal to Marie and it wasn't going to be the last. I think it's fair to say that she was used to it by now.
"Well, you should stop calling out to cats, Mia," Frankie said. "You know they always answer you. It's freaky..." She muttered as we hurried inside her car and she hurriedly drove out of the parking lot.
It was true, though. Cats always came to me when I called.
I was very good at reading their body language, and knowing what their sounds and the movement of their tails and ears meant. I talked to them, and they often responded... in their own particular way. I understood what went on in their little feline minds.
Frankie used to call me Cat-Whisperer because all cats loved me. And I loved them back, with all my heart. Cats were the most beautiful creatures in the world.
The car hit a bump in the road and we jolted on the seat. The cat let out a strangled gurgle of protest, but he was too weak to even open his eyes to glare at me.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, we're almost there. Hang in there, buddy! You're going to be fine, I promise. Marie is going to take care of you." I murmured softly to him.
It was too dark in the car and I couldn't see the extent of his injuries. Maybe it wasn't that serious, I kept praying to myself.
I reached with my hand to check for injuries and I must have pressed on a sore spot because he hissed angrily and snapped his teeth at me, missing my finger by an inch.
"Jeez!" I grumbled, taking my hand away quickly.
"What?" Frankie gave a cautious look my way.
"I was trying to help him and he tried to bite me."
"Well, you can't blame him for holding a grudge." She reasoned playfully.
"I didn't plan for any of this to happen." I mumbled, crestfallen.
"I know, sweetie. But cats aren't very understanding. Or forgiving. Remember how old Jules used to leave poop on your pillow when you did something she didn't like?" Frankie guffawed. "Oh, man! It was priceless! That cat was so awesome…"
"Yeah…" I glanced sadly at the mangled ball of fur huddled into my shirt.
Frankie peeked at me. "I'm sorry, Mia. I didn't mean to make you sad. Sorry for mentioning Jules."
"It's okay, Frankie. I'm just worried about him, that's all. I should have known better than to try to touch a hurt animal. I just hope we can make it in time."
"You shouldn't get your hopes too high, hon. You know what they say, black cats are bad luck."
"That's a stupid superstition. He's not bad luck, Frankie." My voice trembled and I averted my eyes away from her. The thought of the furry ball on my lap dying because of me made my stomach clench in knots. I couldn't let this happen. Not again.
"Mia, whatever happens, you know this isn't your fault, right?" Frankie said quietly.
"No, Frankie. He's hurt like this because of me. I'm the bad luck here, Frankie. Me. Not him."
...