{- Hello! Thank you so much for the few reviews I've had so far, I'm enjoying writing this story so much :) Sorry to all those who are desperate to find out more about Bonnie Medley, a chapter explaining all is IN PRODUCTION! Haha, but for now I'm sticking to the Series 5 characters and Cassie/Tony's storyline. Chapter Six is halfway finished, and I can faithfully promise it shall NOT disappoint!

Hope you enjoy, read & review :) -}

Chapter Four

Bang Bang

One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two..
Mini's heartbeat sped up with every minute that passed. The troubled teenager had been running on her treadmill for about two and a half solid hours.
Her light hair was whipped back into a high ponytail, and she was clad in pink lycra shorts and a wifebeater vest.
Her mind was troubled. It had been troubled for days now, and she didn't have a fucking clue what to do about it.
Mini was the top, the queen, she was the best and everybody knew it.
And then Franky had shown up, and everything had spiralled completely out of her direction.
Stupid Franky.
With her stupid, short hair -
And her stupid, pathetic voice -
And her stupid, lesbian clothes -
And her stupid, stupid, skinniness –

And her stupid fucking way of always being in the fucking way.
"URGH." Shrieked Mini, shoving her fist down on the emergency stop button of the treadmill, panting heavily. Her legs buzzed with energy even as they stood still, she'd been running faster than she ever had before. The anger she felt towards Franky fuelled her on.
She hated her.
Mini's eyes cast downwards at her trainers. No. She didn't hate her.
Not at all, not even slightly.
And this was what Mini truly hated.

"What're you doing?"
Franky, dressed in faded grey shorts, an extremely baggy brown jumper and black boots – did not turn around. Her eyelids were coated in a thin layer of grey and black powder, highlighting the sharp detail of her wonderfully light eyes.
She held her gun out in front of her, firing bullets at beer cans on the old table ahead of her.
Franky turned her head. Matty. Again. She turned back, fired another bullet and caught the can right in the heart.
"What the hell, where've you been? Come on Franks, talk to me."
Franky ignored him.
Sick of this, Matty walked towards her, snatched the gun from her hand and threw it on the ground ahead of them. He seized her by the shoulders and shook her hard – piercing her with his gaze.
"Talk, to me." He said in a slow voice.
Franky looked at him. She really looked at him hard.
She remembered those days when those eyes..
Those eyes could have made her dance in a bonfire if they'd asked her to.
Those arms that held her so firmly now, had once held her so firmly before. Held her against his hot, sweating body as he thrust into her – fast and hard as though desperately searching for something. Something.
Frankie's soft expression turned to steel.
Something he never found.
She pulled away from him and made to pick up the gun again.
"NO. FRANKY, FUCKING HELL JUST STOP THIS AND TALK TO ME," yelled Matty, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards him again. This time, his eyes were full of tears.
"What did I do, Franky?" he said quietly, his voice hoarse. Franky's heart tugged at her, angry at her. But her heart did not belong to Matty. Fuck, it didn't belong to ANYBODY.
"Nothing," she replied.
"Nothing?" repeated Matty, his eyes wide and frantic. Franky grew slightly afraid.
"Nothing? Franks, we've been shagging for weeks now. I got rid of Liv, she wasn't right for me. YOU are right for me Franky! Everytime I see you, I just want to have you. I love you."
Franky inhaled sharply, all her senses rejecting what he just said strongly.
He dismissed this, and carried on in a sad, soft voice.
"I love you, Franky. So why won't you just, Jesus – why won't you JUST be me with me?"

Franky stared at Matty for a long time after this.
She hadn't said anything, nor had she given him an answer – for she had no answer to give. All she knew was she just, couldn't. She couldn't be Matty.
Everything was blurred, confusing – rushed.
They'd left high school ages ago, but nobody had really gone any further. Everything had stayed the same.
Grace had been accepted into Oxford, but she turned it down (sending her father into a panicked frenzy in the process), to attend a university in Scotland instead to study ballet and contemporary theatre. Rich had applied for the same university, and to everybody's surprise and joy – he'd been accepted onto a course for music development and theory. Alo was a working man now, he started working as a waiter in a restaurant and worked his way up to become bar manager, and now – shockingly, he owned the place.
Liv had opened her own tattoo shop, and had created some wonderful tattoos on some of the locals.
Nobody heard much from Nick, but Franky had seen him leaving Liv's in the early hours of the mornings. That had started up again, she kept this information strictly to herself.
And Mini.
Franky's mouth went slightly dry.
Mini was still around, she worked as a yoga instructor in town and in Alo's bar some evenings. She owned her own little flat in the outskirts of their town.
Franky and Mini had become best friends. The best of friends. Franky's fathers had taken a while to adjust to this, after being so defensive towards Mini after her initial harsh treatment towards Franky. Now however, they adored her. They even stocked up the cupboards with green tea and low-calorie goodies for Mini to feast on to her heart's content when she was round.
They went everywhere together, Franky even tried out the yoga class for some time – not really her thing though.
Mini told her everything, her insecurities, her fears, everything. She really let Franky in. And in turn, Franky let Mini in – bit by bit, slowly easing Mini into the small portion of trust that Franky had saved inside herself.
Then it all went wrong.

Matty had came back on the scene, and Franky had been infatuated by him and his unexpected return. He started seeing her in early hours of the morning for a smoke, a talk. Soon it became a kiss, a grope. And now they were regularly making love. Franky saw less and less of Mini, and Mini grew more and more furious by it.

Mini tried to convince herself that their friendship had been a flaw on her part.
Tried to convince herself that Franky was nobody, she'd just turned up here and ruined things. She tried. Each time she tried however, she ended up in floods of tears. She missed her, and she hated Matty's hold on her.
What she hated more though, was the jealousy. The poisonous, invading jealousy that flowed through her veins everytime Franky was with Matty not her.
Franky was supposed to her best friend, chicks before dicks and all that shit.
But no, Franky had chosen Matty to spend her time with. This infuriated Mini and now she wanted nothing more to do with the girl.

It was insulting. Offensive. Just, not right.

Franky thought all of this, she let it all swim through her head and confuse her – like taking a wet brush and smearing it across an oil painting, blending all the colours into an indistinguishable mess.
She didn't want to talk.
She didn't want to explain.
Images and voices flooded through her head, Matty making love to her in the woods, Liv sitting her down and asking her if she was gay, Mini kissing her in Grace's play, saying goodbye to Grace and Rich as they left for university, sleeping next to Mini in her bed and breathing in the powdery, gingerbread scent of her skin..
Angrily, Frankie stepped towards Matty and pulled his head towards hers – lips meeting lips, chest meeting chest.
She kissed him with furious passion, make the thoughts go away, make them go away..
Matty's reluctance melted to nothing and he wound his arms around Franky, the girl he loved – holding her to him for fear that if he didn't, she'd slip away.
Franky felt her lips against his, their tongues entwining together and his hands in her hair. But in her mind, in the small, quiet corner of mind left undisturbed – sat Mini.
Squeezing her eyes shut Franky slid her hand down to Matty's crotch, stroking and grabbing – urging him on. He took the hint instantly and tore off her jumper, while she busied herself with his belt.
She closed the door on that corner of mind, and the question 'Why'.
Who cares why.
The answer would only make things worse.