Frankie raced over. Bridget turned her head toward him, but her dirty blonde hair blocked her view of him.

“Oh my god,” Frankie whispered at the site. He saw her blackening eye and multiple purple bruises on her legs. He knelt down to her. “Are you alright?”

“Nnnn...no,” she whimpered as she wrapped her arms around him and cried her heart out. She wanted to close her eyes forever and never open them again. Frankie just knelt there, stroking her hair, wondering what had happened. “My boyfriend,” she started as Frankie helped her to her feet, “he’s so...cruel to me...wait, cruel isn’t even the word!..oh god...what did I do to deserve this?”

Frankie just watched her as he leaned against the green lightpost on the corner of Mable and Rt. 820. He didn’t know what to say or what to do.

“Do you need a ride home or something?” Frankie asked, lifting her downcasted head lightly towards his.

Her green eyes gleamed with an overall relieved glow. “No...” she said, “well...god...I don’t want my mom to find out...” She sat down, fustrated and confused. Frankie joined her as a truck full or drunken students went wailing by. “She doesn’t know much about Bryant. I try not to tell her too much. He’s been in a bit of trouble...” she sighed as she rested her head on her palm.

“Do you want to come to my house?” he asked. He was curious about her and knew she shouldn’t be alone.

“Alright,” she agreed as they stood up, “By the way, I’m Bridget.”

“I’m Frankie. My house is only a few more blocks down,” he informed her as they set out into the night.

“What happened tonight?” Frankie asked as he poured Bridget some milk and grabbed an ice pack from his white fridge.

“Well,” she started warily, zipping up her red sweatshirt, “Bryant invited me over to watch a movie. We’ve been a little distant these past few weeks. Because...” Frankie placed the glass of milk and ice pack next to her left hand and plopped down across the cedar table “...he hurts me.” Tears started to engulf her eyes. “He’s so overprotected and jealous. He doesn’t mean it. He just gets angry. He can’t control it! Anyway, he started to...sexually harass me and I told him to stop. He immediatle thought I was seeing someone else. I just don’t like it...it doesn’t feel right...or the same. Then he jumped on top of me and tried...” She couldn’t take it. She looked towards the door.

“Ok...I see,” Frankie assured her with a little smile. He couldn't comprehend how someone could be so cruel to the innocent.

She wiped at her eyes with her sweatshirt. “He’s all I have...” She peered towards the clock. Its delicate hands pointed to 11:25.

“Oh no,” she moaned. “My mom’s gonna kill me if I’m not home soon...she’ll worry.”

“She should worry about this guy. God, I mean, is she so oblivious to the fact you’re getting beat and stuff?”

“She’s...buisy...” Frankie could sense it was a touchy subject. Bridget was like a egg shell; there's enough exterior to protect her, but she can break easily.

It was late. “I can ask my dad to drive you home,” Frankie suggested. He stood up and walked into the TV room where his dad was enjoying a late ‘I Love Lucy.’

The ride to Bridget was painfully silent. Frankie felt so helpless. When you’re a teenager, you think you know everything. Frankie didn’t know pain; he didn’t know confustion; he didn’t know love. He didn’t know if he wanted to know love. Bridget was in her own nightmare.

“You can stop here,” she aprubtly and unexpectingly insisted as Mr. Galasso turned onto Vercose Crt.

“Are you sure?” Mr. Galasso asked, raising his bushy black eyebrows. “I can take you to your...”

“No,” Bridget shouted, “really.” He pulled over to the curb and Bridget bolted out of the car. She walked over to Frankie’s side. “Thank you so much,” she told him, “it means alot to me knowing you took the time to listen.”

"If there’s anything I can do, you know where I am and here’s my cell” Frankie told her as he slid the yellow post-it into her small palm. “Please, don’t let him hurt you again. I don’t know your whole situation, but no one deserves that.”

A small smile appeared on her face; a smile of hope mixed with happiness and thought; one Frankie would never forget. “It’s hard but I’ll do the right thing.” Bridget left a small kiss on Frankie’s left cheek as she raced down the block to her, from what Frankie could see, small apartment.