“Listen, Liar Liar, you promised. Enough with Alex Bainbridge."Home truths are not meant to be comfortable, I know.Frankie knows it, too, and for a teeny tiny second, I hated him just a teeny tiny bit for knowing just where to stick the pin.I glared at him. "How did this go from being about Sadie to an assault on my honesty? Huh?"He shrugged. "I love you, Fiorella. We ain't got no money, honey, but we got love."I've never been able to hate Frankie for more than a second at a time.”

“I Can't Make You Love Me.' Bonnie Raitt.""Oh,Fiorella."I glared at him a little as I climbed down. "Was that delightful list for your benefit or mine?"Frankie grabbed my hand and, when I didn't pull away fast enough, tugged me onto his lap,where he wrapped his arms so tightly around me that I couldn't escape. Sometimes his strength still surprises me.He tickled my cheek with his nose. "Don't hate me just because I'm hateful.""I never do."Here's the thing. Frankie's taken a lot of hits in his life. He never stays down for long."Excuse me!" The mannequin's evil twin was glaring down at us fro her sky-high bootie-heeled heights. Her NM badge told us her name was Victoria. "You cannot do that here!" she snapped."Do what?" Frankie returned, matching lockjaw snooty for lockjaw snooty.She opened and closed her mouth, then hissed, "Canoodle!"I felt Frankie's hiccup of amusement. "Were we canoodling, snookums?" he asked me. "I rather thought we were about to copulate like bunnies."I couldn't help it; I laughed out loud. Victoria's mouth thinned into a pale line. The whole thing might have ended with our being escorted out the store's hallowed doors by security. Sadie, as she so often did, momentarily saved us from ourselves.She stomped out of the dressing room and planted herself in front of us. Ignoring the angry salesgirl completely, she muttered, "I look like a carved pumpkin!"Frankie took in the skirt, layered shirts, and jacket. "You do not, but I might have been having an overly Michael Kors moment. This will not do for a date.Take it off." He nudged me, then added, "Right here.Every last stitch of it."As soon as Sadie was back in her own clothing and coat-which got an unwilling frown of respect from Victoria; apparently even Neiman Maruc doesn't carry that line-we moved on. Sadie did better in Frankie's second choice-a lip-printed sweater dress from Betsey Johnson,but wouldn't buy it."We're just going to a movie!" she protested. "Besides,Jared's not...not..." She gestured down at her lippy hips. "He's practical and sensible and quiet.""Oh,my God!" Frankie slapped both palms to the side of his face,and turned to me. "Sadie has a date with a Prius!"He had to invoke the sanctity of Truth or Dare before he could even get her into Urban Outfitters. "Sometimes I love you less than other times," she grumbled as he filled her arms with his last choices."No,you don't," he said cheerfully, and sent her off to change.”

“So,if it's all love or money, which is Alex Bainbridge?"I blinked at him. "What?""He's a turd, Ella. He looked right through you like you were a ghost, but you still have a thing for him.""I do n-""Don't even. You've gone through the whole week watching for him. So what is it? I would really like to know. Love or money?""I have not been watching for him!" I snapped. Oh, but I had, in every hallway, at lunch, when I took my seat at the edge of English class. "And if I have, it's just so I can look away first."Frankie rolled his eyes. "Shall I get you a pail of water?""Why?""Your pants are on fire."I actually looked down at my lap. "Oh, very funny." I shot Sadie a look when she giggled.”

“I might have stood there for a long time, hand halfway up like a religious statue,if Frankie hadn't gently pulled it down and held on.He stood behind me, vibrating with anger. "That is not an honorable man, Fiorella."Without thinking, I lifted my free hand toward my neck.But I was wearing a turtleneck and my hair was down. There was nothing to see,and all my fingertips found was the rigid peak under my jaw. "Don't do that," Frankie hissed. "Don't you dare. It's not the scar and it's abso-freakin-lutely not you."I dropped my hand. "Yeah,right." I sagged against him a little. For being skinny as he is, Frankie's really solid. "It's never me."I felt his sigh against my shoulder blades. "We are young; heartache to heartache we stand.""Let me guess," I said. "Old Korean proverb.""As if.Pat Benatar. 'Love is a Battlefield.'"I laughed.I had a feeling I might cry, but not there and then. "Thanks.""Don't mention it." Frankie wrapped his free arm around me so my chin rested on his forearm. "Enough,right? That was enough of Alex Bainbridge-for all of us. Promise?""Yeah.Promise?”

“1."Ahem. I know you hate Mondays, madam, but you picked the absolutely wrong one to play hooky. Or be sick. Yes, I suppose it's vaguely possible that you are actually sick. Anyway, here we are at lunch, Sadie and I, witnessing total social disorder. Your friend Alexander Bainbridge is sitting at the usual table, but facing the room. Amanda Alstead is sitting at Table One. Or, should I say,sitting more or less on a Phillite senior boy, whose name is unimportant, at Table One. A very nice young lady at the next table over-you know, the one who writes about Mr. Darcy-has just informeed us that Amanda dumpled Alex over the break. On Thanksgiving Day,no less. By e-mail. No telling how much truth is there, but a lot more than a kernal, I would say. We have a large, seven-dollar bag o' movie popcorn here. Thought you'd like to know. Call me.”

“He came to find me," I offered, a small indication, maybe,that this was a Phillite boy who'd grown into doing the right thing."I'll give him that. He could have just sucked down his spaghetti and gone." Frankie stuck the cap back on the lipstick. "You look very pretty in..." He flipped the tube over and read. "You've gotta be kidding. Poysonberry? Who comes up with this stuff? Anyway.I'm sure Alex Bainbridge will agree.""Thank you.""Anytime.Just keep this in mind, if you would, please. I know that you look very pretty every day, with or without the ridiculously named wax products.""Saint Francis," I teased, feeling just delightfully poysonous enough in the glow of his approval. "Too good for this world.""That's just what Connor said." Frankie's most recent boy. They met in a bookstore."Bookstore Connor of the fantasy realm?"Behind us,the gong went. Frankie started to scoop his stuff together. "Careful.His fantasies do not involve one-dimensional Phillites or dead men."I tapped him on the tip of his perfect nose. He hates that. "How do you know? He might have a thing for dead, one-dimensional Phillites.”

“He got her out of her jacket. In less than ten seconds." Frankie shook his head. "God help her if he tries to get her out of something else.""Oh,no.He wouldn't...You wouldn't let him...""For the record, I was kidding. But try to give them both just a little credit, if you would,please.”