Seven-thirty came and went with no sign of Frankie. Eight o'clock passed with no sign of him either. At nine-thirty Frankie called from a club downtown.
"Where are you?" I asked angrily.
"I think the question is, 'where are you?' I thought I told you to be at the club for seven-thirty." Frankie told me just as angrily.
"Um, no. You said you'd pick me up at seven-thirty." I corrected him.
"Well tonight's been shot. Thanks Melody-Anne. I'll see you tomorrow." Frankie hung up on me.
"Stupid jackass." I muttered and slammed the phone down.
I let out an ear-piercing shriek of anger and threw myself down on my bed. I stayed there for all of two seconds before getting up and going over to my mirror. I looked at my delicately sculptured face for a moment before shattering the glass with my fist. Thousands of reflections of my tormented eyes and gaping mouth looked back at me angrily. I ended up cutting my knuckles pretty bad but I didn't care. I got a handful of kleenex and wrapped up my hand as my brother Kyle burst into my room.
"What's going on in here?" Kyle asked anxiously.
"Nothin'." I replied, my back to him.
"Mel, let me see your hand." He walked over to me and held his hands out to me to reveal my injury.
"Just go away Kyle. I'm fine." I insisted and then flinched as I moved my hand.
"Mel, don't do this to me. What'd you do to your hand? You know mine's killing me." He grabbed my arm and spun me around. I couldn't fight him. He was my brother, my twin, and he was right.
"I put it through the mirror." I admitted and bit my lip as Kyle peeled the kleenex off my bloody hand. "OW!" I gasped.
"Sorry," he apologized. "Jesus! You're gonna need stitches." He said as he realized how bad the cuts were.
"Really?" I looked down at my hand and cringed. "You know who's fault this is? And don't say mine."
"Frankie's right? What happened? You guys get your signals crossed again?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm.
"I guess. Frankie forgot he was going to pick me up and was waiting for me at the club. Christ!" I clenched my hands into fists and then cried out in pain.
"C'mon Mel, I'll drive you to the hospital. And I promise I won't say anything to Jeff about this. He's out right now anyways." Kyle grabbed me a jacket out of my closet and led me downstairs.
"Thanks Kyle. You know how much it means to me that Jeff doesn't find out." I leaned closer to my brother and kissed his cheek gently. "I love you Kyle."
"I love you too Mel, and that's why I think you should cool it off with Frankie for a little while." Kyle whispered.
"Don't you start too. Please." I whined and we left it at that.
The drive to the hospital was in total silence. I ended up with twenty-five stitches across my knuckles and was given some pills to take for the pain. When I got home I found Anissa in my room.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded and slammed my door closed behind me. She opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out.
"Well?" I snapped and stood facing her with my hands on my hips.
"I came to apologize." She managed to reply weakly. "And to make sure you were okay."
"I'm fine." I sat down beside her on my bed.
"So what'd you do to your hand?" She asked carefully.
I thought about how to answer without incriminating Frankie.
"I fell and busted my hand through my mirror." I lied calmly.
"Oh my God! Are you okay?" She asked anxiously.
"Yeah, I'm fine. So is there any other reason that you're here?" I eyed her suspiciously.
"Um, yeah. I was talking to Billy, and he said that him and the guys were gonna come up from New York next week, and one of them kinda wants to meet ya." Anissa trailed off.
"What? Why?" I crossed my arms.
"Well because I showed them a picture of you and was kinda talking about you when I was there. So he's interested." She confessed.
"You told him I had a boyfriend right?" I cried.
"Well, yeah, but . . ." She let me figure it out myself.
"Anissa!" I whined. "How could you?"