Saying Goodbye (What the World Doesn't Know) by Mahima Martel Page A

sunglasses, Frankie sat lounging by her family’s pool, mindlessly skimming through the pages of her psychology textbook while the Dark Knights’ song,
Mistaken Identity
—a song with heavy drum beat, Alex’s raunchy guitar playing and Robbie’s bellowing voice
,
blared from the record player inside the house
:
     
    Man in a dark cloak shuffles by
    His brim pulled low for all to despise
    No one see his face, but knows his case
    Convictions rise with immediate haste
    It’s just a case of mistaken identity.
    Afraid a stranger's anonymity.
     
                She daydreamed of her scheme to see Alex in the next few days and had even decided not to see Sam Esposito perform on Wednesday night. After only a couple of days with Alex, Frankie knew she didn’t want to be with any other guy. Frankie knew Sam was disappointed about Wednesday, but she knew he understood. He had sent her “get well soon” card and a bouquet of flowers for the flu she didn’t really have.
                Frankie’s mother, Geraldine, entered the kitchen and set down a pair of bags filled with groceries on the kitchen counter. Before she could start emptying them, her first order of business was to turn down the racket that Frankie was blaring. Geraldine was not only not a fan of the Dark Knights, she hated loud music in general.
     
    No one know anybody
    It's their character we embody
    Never caring who they truly are
    Judging others from afar
    It's just a case of mistaken identity
    Afraid of a stranger's anonymity.
     
                Geraldine walked over to the record player and removed the pin from the turntable and turned the damned thing off. Outside by the pool, Frankie heard the volume of the music suddenly silence. She leapt from her lounge chair and rushed inside.
                 “Hi, mom,” she said, leaning on a dining room table in her bikini.
                “What are you up to, Francesca Marie?” asked Geraldine, putting away a jar of peanut butter.
                “Nothing. Studying.”
                “With that racket?” questioned Geraldine. “How can anyone study to
that
noise?”
                Frankie twirled around the dining room table toward the kitchen, and then said, “I’m able to block it out.”
                “If you can block it out, then why play it all?” replied Geraldine.
                Frankie rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’re such a square.”
                Geraldine eyed Frankie. “I’m your mother. It’s a mother’s
job
to be square.”
                “Whatever,” Frankie grunted. “Mom, my friend Cassie is performing on Friday night.”
                “I already said you could go to the concert,” Geraldine replied without letting Frankie finish. She was too busy putting away the groceries. “Can you help me instead of just standing there?”
            Frankie walked over to the counter and pulled out a few cans of soup from one of the paper bags. “Yeah, but Cassie’s never been to New York. She asked if I could stay the night with her and then show her around the city on Saturday.”
                Geraldine looked at her daughter carefully. “Why can’t you come home after the concert and meet her the next day?”
                “Mom, I’m nineteen. Can I have just a little freedom to spend the night with a friend?”
                “From what I hear, you had too much freedom in L.A.,” replied Geraldine.
                “Gossip,” Frankie said. “You can’t believe everything you read in the gossip rags. What you
don’t
read is the real story.” She put the cans away in the cupboard and then came up with the clincher. “It’s not like I’m asking to spend the night with any of the guys in the
band
. I’m asking to spend the night with Cassie—a girl.”
                Geraldine sighed,