"Hurry, hurry," Bridget urged as her and Tiyanna ran around the shop shutting off the lights, "Frankie's going to be here any second!"

"Calm your pits," Tiyanna demanded as she locked up the cash register with a gold key, "He isn't going to drive away without you."

Bridget twisted the door sign to display 'Closed' as they dashed out of the obscure shop. Just then, the FrankieMobile, as they call it, pulled up to the curb.

Bridget waved to Frankie as Tiyanna yelled in her ear, "Now you two behave!" Bridget rolled her eyes and hugged her friend goodbye. Tiyanna gave Frankie a wink and Frankie laughed back in response. Bridget opened the marron car door carefully and scooted inside.

"Hi," Bridget greeted bubbily as she layed a soft kiss on Frankie's lips.

"Hey," Frankie replied, taking her left hand in his right hand and intertwinding fingers.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" Bridget asked with a sigh as she peered into the great unknown.

"A field trip to Greg's to get my sweater," Frankie laughed as he turned on the ignition. It started to purr like a young kitten as he continued, "And then some dinner at my place."

"Sounds excellent," Bridget concluded as he pulled out of the parking lot.

During the 1/2 hour trip to Greg's, the couple playfully argued about what station to listen to. They arrived at Greg's large home at 6.

Frankie and Bridget rang the musical doorbell, hand in hand, and after hearing some playful screams and yells, Greg answered the door. "Frankie," Greg smiled, giving him a friendly hug. "And Bridget," Greg continued sweetly as he leaned down to give her a hug. "What brings you here?" Greg asked, turning his attention back to Frankie, "Haven't you seen enought of me today?"

"Oh, I could never get enough of you, Greggy," Frankie replied sarcastically, taking a feel at his muscles under a navy Adidas Sweatshirt. Bridget broke out laughing as Frankie continued, "I actually came to get my sweatshirt back..."

"Oh yeah," Greg replied wide-eyed as he pulled the bulky sweatshirt off himself, "I totally forgot I had it on. It's so comf..."

"Gregory, who's at the door?" A high voice called from inside the kitchen.

"It's Frankie and Bridget, Ma," Greg called back to her.

"Invite them in, sill," Mrs. R told Greg, stepping into view from a heated kitchen. "You guys can stay for dinner."

"Thanks for the invite, Maryanne," Frankie declined sliding his arm around Bridget's waist, "But I'm cooking for Bridget tonight."

"Oh God," Greg gasped with a laugh, wiping at the gnats circiling his perfectly brushed brown hair, "I wouldn't trust him in there."

"You're so mean, Greg," Bridget told him, pushing him back inside the house.

"Well we gotta jet," Frankie informed Greg slapping hands with him.

"I'll see you bright and early," Greg reminded him with a hint of exaustion tainting his voice. "Enjoy your dinner, Bridget."

"I'm sure I will, Greggy," Bridget joked as she waved goodbye, Frankie taking her hand in hers and they walked down the cobble walkway to the car. Greg leaned against the white door frame, peering at the two walking away and just smiled.

"Do you need any help, Frankie?" Bridget called downstairs after hearing the perils between Frankie and the kitchen.

"Uhh...No," Frankie shouted back over the boisterious pots smashing to the ground. "I can handel this...I'm all man...Take a message if the phone rings, K?"

"Alright," Bridget laughed as she walked through Frankie's tidy room, picking up a CosmoTeen Mag and the black portable from his dresser. She took a seat on the wickered bench ajacent to a brown card table Frankie set up for the occasion. She paged through the endless pages of fashion and stopped on an appealing ad about scented lip-gloss. Suddenly, the phone rang and Bridget jumped. She smiled at her reaction and reached for it.

"Hello," Bridget said into the phone, cradling it between her shoulder and chin.

"Hi, is Frankie there?" the girl asked sweetly.

"Yeah, but he's busy in the kitchen at the moment. Can I take a message?"

There was a few moments of stillness before the girl demanded, "Who are you?!"

"I'm Bridget," Bridget replied puzzledly, "And you are?"

"A friend...very close one, actually. The name's Beth. I know Frankie would be thrilled to hear from me so if you could be a peach and put him on..."

"I told you, Beth," Bridget interrupted her, "He's busy making me dinner..."

"Ahh, another girlfriend," Beth chuckled, "He changes those like he changes underware."

"Look," Bridget shouted, anger rising through her throat, "Do you want me to leave him a message?"

"Actually that would be fab," Beth replied, "Tell him I said thank you for the flowers. God...he can't get enough of me, can he?"

Bridget hung up and lightly tossed the phone onto the table. She tried to get her jumbled mind to focus on that call...that, Beth. Who was she? She downcasted her face back to her magazine, trying to shake the call off...but she couldn't. "Bridget?" Frankie implored, sticking his head out of the open door. Bridget looked up to Frankie placing a large tray overflowing with steaming spagetti, a black bowl of crisp garden salad, golden garlic bread and a 2 liter bottle of Mountain Dew, Bridget's favorite. The tray was topped off with a single red rose in a crystal vase bowing to the vital sun. Her mouth fell agaped, not knowing what to say as Frankie glanced up, a pleasd smile painted on his face.

They finished their dinner and they seemed to be happy, but that girl was eating at Bridget's brain. The subject was itching to get out.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" Bridget asked Frankie, her hand unleashed from Frankie's grasp playing with her tear drop.

"What do you mean?" Frankie asked, his ears perking up like a watch dog.

"About Beth?" Bridget continued, fixing her gaze on Frankie's eyes.

Frankie looked at Bridget as if trying to recognize who she was. "How did...you hear about her?"

"Don't change the subject," Bridget told him with a tainted voice of irritation, shaking her head.

"No," Frankie curtly replied, folding his burly arms on his chest, "I have nothing to say."

"Is that all I get?" Bridget asked, turning her whole body towards his. Her eyes narrowed on his face as he uncomfortably fixed his posture.

"She means nothing to me," Frankie told her, not daring to look at her questioning eyes. "Or the group. She's out of my life."

Bridget didn't want to fight with him; God knows what happens when she fights with people. She looked away, feeling helpless and somewhat betrayed. She brought her knees to the wicker chair cusion and hugged them sadly. Frankie glanced over and didn't want Bridget to be upset because of himself. He took her in his arms, but she resisted.

"You've got to trust me, Bridget," Frankie whispered to her. "She's out of my life. I don't want to talk about her just now. I will tell you everything with time, I promise."

Bridget looked back at him with warm eyes. She nodded and let a small smile show. Frankie wiped at her left cheek with his index finger as she leaned on his supportive shoulder. They watched the golden day fight with the dark night over the precious space of sky. Houses started to twinkle with the switches of lights. The rythum of the quieting city went as Bridget's heart went; slowly. Day was finally defeated by night just as the malicious dragon was slayed by her knight...or so they thought.