"Those shoes are very chic" she said sweetly, an eyebrow raised. For all their banter, Frankie liked to class Bekka as a friend, or at least a smoking partner.
"I'm not sick, jesus. Relax. Have some JD" she said, holding Bekka hostage with agrip on her armand thrusting the bottle at her. "But not too much!"
"I've got some Jose~" Bekka replied, holding up her own bottle as she had learned the hard way not to share drinks ever, ever again.
Taking a sip of her own, she glanced down to check out her own footwear before asking Frankie another question. "So then what the hell is wrong with you then? You sound God-Awful."
Frankie gave a throaty laugh more suited to an old Parisian lady in some cafe than a young girl. "Couch surfing. I think I've smoked seven hundred cigarettes in three days." She waved a hand as if this was no biggie.
"How was break? You look slightly pleased to be around others company so you either got a great present or that's just relief."
"Well fuck me." She was impressed, very impressed. After all, even on her wost days- Bekka wasn't up to more than a pack ever few days, and she considered herself a proper addict.
She shrugged in reply, looking down at her figure once more before speaking. "My grandmother is Satan." That makes sense, right?
"Ahhhhh, say no more." Frankie understood completely. Her own Grandma was best described as a dragon. "Luckily I only have to see mine during summer in France.
"Lucky you." Envied Bekka. "She compared me to a holocaust victim and said I looked like a plank of wood." Might as well not beat around the bush with that.
"Well, your complexion is a little woody" Frankie mentioned, trying not to smile. "Aren't you Jewish? Should she be talking that way about the holocaust?" Well, she was probably old. Old people always got away with saying inappropriate things.
"When you've lived a long time I think you earn the right to be evil" Frankie mused, running a hand through her hair, which was slightly matted.
She laughed a little at Bekka's question, rolling her eyes. "Oh you know, parents aren't what they crack up to be. Well, neither am I either, apparently. I think my Father is upset I haven't produced an heir."
"Oh. Because I know my father's greatest dream is for me to get knocked up before high-school. Whatever he's smoking?" Bekka paused, pulling out her own cigarette as if to show it to the class. "I'll buy an ounce."
"If I don't, this whole school is fucked to hell." Another puff and as if to second on her own point, she looked around the room. "Wonder who is going to make an ass of themselves tonight."
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