Page 2 of Paved Paradise

“It’s Frank.”

And with that, she’s gone. Bouncing down the old trail and probably out of this town forever. I wonder if she can see her new permanent passenger.

Chapter One

Frankie

Three weeks later:

“Oh, this one would look absolutely stunning on you, Al!” I yell toward the back where my newly made but never-had-better best friend, Alena, is.

She’s currently hanging some old sweaters in the “vintage section,” as she calls it. I call it the bird's nest, where old birds like to shop. Don't get me wrong, it's all cute stuff, just classic. Though, I found an old silky black poodle skirt last week. I cut it a bit shorter and added some personal embroidery from the best person around, moi. By the time I was done with it, you would think it came from Paris Fashion Week.

“Maybe instead of taking them off the rack, you could, I don't know, try putting them on the rack!” She laughs, and I gasp at her statement. She gasps as well, turns quickly, and almost looks like she’s going to cry. She slaps her hand over her mouth before quickly taking it away to scream at me.

“I'm so sorry, Frankie. I don't know where that came from. I-.”

“Fuck yeah! Now that's what I'm talking about, girl! I love the moxy! Keep it coming!!” I laugh at her surprised face, but I'm overjoyed she's learning to take up for herself. “Though I will say I’ll put all my mess back exactly where I found it, but until I put my own designs out on racks, I don't want to work anywhere near the retail business,” I tell her, holding up another dress and modeling it in the mirror. I’m not a spoiled brat or anything. I don't mind a good, honest day's work, just not in retail. It would be torture having to work with designs that aren't my own, or that I can't alter to bring my visions to life. I just want to save the joy of working in a shop for when it's all mine.

“You know, you could put some of your work up in here. We aren't the most booming of stores, but we do alright. You could add some outfits to the front rack and the mannequin in the front window,” Alina tells me softly as she wrings her hands together. While she's getting better with standing up for herself, her ass hat of a brother did a number on her. I know she's just waiting for someone to come in and tell her she's stupid or ugly or one of the other millions of traumatic things Jackson said to her. She doesn't realize she's just offered me my dream.

“W-wouldn't your parents care?” I stutter out, almost too nervous I heard her wrong to get all the words out.

“Of course not! They don't care what I do with this place as long as I keep it organized and profitable.” She snorts and shakes her head.

I gulp, trying to form words around my tight throat while also trying to conceal the tears that desperately want to gather in my eyes. I’ve never met anyone with as big a heart as this girl. Well, that's not entirely true. The woman who sold me my van was a saint. The van, or Shimmer as I like to call her, is my greatest (and only) possession. It's also my home and means absolutely everything to me. The day I bought that van with the five hundred dollars I had saved up from pick-pocketing was the greatest day of my life. I was in foster care my whole life, never knowing how or why I ended up there. Unfortunately, when I hit my teen years and decided I wanted to be mad at the world and everyone in it, pick-pocketing was the only thing I could think of to make money and screw over the world I was so angry with. No one trusted or cared about some foster kid left behind.

The day I turned seventeen, I ran away from the current hell I was forced to live in. The stepbrother didn't know the word no, and after one too many close calls, I decided it was time to leave. I had only my backpack with my essentials and started walking out of town. I had just reached a fork in the road and let my heart lead me left. About another two miles down that road, I saw Shimmer. The owner could somehow tell I was in some kind of trouble. The van wasn't even for sale, but I still walked away with my girl that day. It's been me and her ever since, and I wouldn't trade her for anything in the world.

But then Alina came into my life. I never knew friendship until she walked into my life. Well, more like I pushed my way into hers, but that's neither here nor there. Still, I couldn't have asked for a better friend. I truly didn't even know what that meant until this girl, and she's finally given me a place where I feel like I could belong.

“Thanks, Al. I’ll think about it.” I clear my throat after it catches on the last word. I decide a change in subject is necessary before I become a blubbering mess, but what should I talk about? Before I can think better of it, the next words just slip out of my mouth. “I almost got towed the other night. Some guy saved me, though.”

“WHAT?!?! And you're just telling me this now?” Al screeches before swatting me with one of the cardigans she's holding. I chuckle and duck away before shrugging.

“Not much to tell, really. I was parked on the beach. I thought I had found a secluded spot, but apparently, someone spotted me and called the cops. Some guy came to tow Shimmer, but this other guy who had been sitting at the other end of the beach apparently knew the right people. He made a call and got me out of the sticky situation,” I tell her quickly, not making eye contact. I know if I look at her, I’m going to wince, then she's going to know something's going on, then I'm going to have to tell her how bitchy I was to the guy who pretty much saved my ass. I couldn't help it. His cocky, sexy-as-hell smirk had me wanting to take him down a peg.

“You're not telling me something,” she says. Damn, should have known.

“Fine, but I'm only going to say it once. The guy was hot as fuck, and I was kind of a bitch to him. So that's that. Even if I can't get him out of my head, I’ll probably never see him again,” I rush out as she stands there, her mouth gaping open like a fish. I know she wants to ask a million more questions, but honestly, I don't have anything more than that, really.

“So now I have to find a new place for Shimmer or risk being impounded,” I sigh, placing the dress back on the hanger and then back on the rack. Even clothes can't seem to cheer me up at the moment.

“Why don't you use the old metal building in the back? It has a small bathroom, but that's about it. It's not the best, but it has a place to park your baby, and no one will bug you back there,” she says, smiling, and just like that, this girl saves me again.

“How am I ever going to pay you back?” I whisper, emotion filling my voice. As she steps up to me and wraps me in her arms, I'm worried I won't stop the tears this time. I'm not a touchy-feely person, and I've never really known a hug, but I don't mind Al's.

“You were the first person to ever see me. You gave me the strength to finally come out of my shell. You are the person who made me start living. If anything, this is a small token in the bucket I owe you,” she says softly. I can hear the emotion in her voice, and I can't take it. Quickly pulling back, I grab my skateboard and skip to the front, turning and smiling at her.

“Guess there's only one thing to do. Time to go get Shimmer.” I wave and turn to leave, her laughter following behind me.

Placing my board on the ground, I hop on and push my way down the boardwalk. I smile as the salty air flows through my hair, the breeze from the ocean chilling my arms and legs, and the sun's rays heating my skin. I couldn't think of a better day. I swear I only close my eyes for one second, but that one second is just long enough because the next thing I know, my wheel catches on a raised board, and I'm flying through the air, face headed right for the ground.

“Oomph.”

“Schnookums, is that you?”

I groan internally at the sound of that familiar, cocky, annoying, sexy as fuck voice. I know his next comment will probably make me want to kick him.

---