CHAPTER 1

I crouch on the bed tightening the old quilt around my body. It’s cold. It’s fucking cold and it’s raining. To make the matters worse, my roof is leaking and part of my bed is filled with water.

I can’t sleep anymore. I turn on the bed and a cold pierces my whole body.

Damn! 

How did I get here? 

How did I sign up for this? 

Why all this?

No good meals apart from when there are leftovers at the club I work at. That is when I’m on shift. I started working recently so I’m yet to make enough money to look for a decent place and meal.

This life sucks.

My whole life sucks and if there is one person I’m blaming for this is my dad. He is now in my past but the dark moments keep coming back to me.

I don’t know where he is. I haven’t set my eyes on him for the past fourteen years. To be precise, I haven’t seen him since that day in our collapsing house. Since that day he stabbed momma.

I don’t want to go there. It makes me nostalgic so I will focus on the present.

I fumble with my phone and snout in despair when it falls on the floor. I reach for the switch and turn the lights on. 

My phone is on the watery floor but the funny thing is that it is working. I lie back on the bed and as if on cue, it vibrates in my hand.

It is Sera. She is my colleague and I wonder why she is calling me so I tap the button and press it on my ear.

“Yes Sera.”

“Hey Frankie? Did I wake you up?”

“No. I was already awake. Is everything okay?”

“Not really. Needed a favour from you.”

“Name it.”

“I’m doing the morning shift and something came up. Can you cover for me will do it for you in the evening?”

“Yeah. Sure. I can.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime. Bye.” I hang up and cover my face with frustration.

My day can’t get any worse. Can it now?

Here is the deal. I have learnt some things since I started working at Lex a few days ago. 

Night shifts are the deal. They come with many tips unlike day shifts which are dry but can I say no to Sera? 

Nope. She helped me get the job. She is the one I’m close to. I have no friends. I have no family so I can’t afford to mess with the only friend I have.

I get out of bed and take a bucket of water hoping there is no one in the common bathroom. It’s my lucky day so I step in and take a quick shower.

Back in the house, I settle for some loose, blue-faded jeans, a black crop-top, a grey hoodie and the only black pair of canvas I have.

I look like a tomboy. My hair is in a mess so I grab a cap and wear it. I look at myself in the small mirror and nod with satisfaction.

Yeah! 

That will do. Let them continue calling me a tomboy. I don’t care. They don’t know what I have been through to get to where I am. They don’t know how tough life in the streets was especially for a small girl with no one to protect her.

It toughened me but before it did I had to behave like the boys there to survive. That’s why you would always find me in a group of boys, dressed like them, in the shanty clothes we could afford.

Well, that is Frankie for you. My street name which I use to date and I like it.

Frankie Thomas.

It’s sweet. It sounds tomboyish and I’m sticking with it forever.

I hurl a comb for my unruly hair, a novel, a pack of condoms and a joint wrapped in a tissue into my old backpack and leave the house.

Did I say a pack of condoms?

Yes. You heard that right. 

I’m human too. I may be a tomboy but I have feelings and need to get laid once in a while.

A joint?

Yeah. With my problems one needs such. I got introduced to it at a young age and I don’t think it’s going to change any soon. It helps me relax. It helps me forget about my problems and be like a normal human being and it’s part of what never misses in my backpack.

A novel?

I’m a fan of novels. Any genre can do it for me especially now that I’m reading Moby Dicks and can’t let it go. 

A comb?

I sometimes remove my cap and comb my hair backwards to prove the haters wrong but it doesn’t solve much. I’m still the same tomboy.

It’s a distance. I normally take the bus but instead, I opt to walk and save whatever little I have. It will be for the next investigative book. 

I step into Lex club and immediately all eyes are on me. I’m used to that. Don’t know whether they don’t see tomboys that often but it’s something that is never going to bring me down.

“Frankie.” The bartender greets fisting my shoulder playfully.

“What’s up dude?” 

“You are never going to change that look. Are you?” he laughs pouring a double shot for a customer.

“Never going to work. Let me get some apron and get to work.” I punch him playfully and disappear into the changing room. I take my apron from the hooks and put it on.

“Good morning Frankie?” I turn to see my manager leaning against the door.

“Good morning too sir.” 

“Sera told me you are covering her shift.”

“Yes sir.”

“Great but need to talk to you about something first.”

“I’m listening.”

“You are a barmaid and you should be dressed like one. This tomboy look is so unappealing even to our customers.”

I knew this would be brought up soon. The other barmaids dress in an appealing manner. You should see how Sera looks in her mini dresses and skirts.

“I don’t get it sir.”

“Look for something appealing. Something that will attract those male customers and you can get huge tips. Follow Sera's example.”

“Noted sir. Maybe when I get my salary I can get some.”

“Great. Because you are so good at your job and we don’t want to lose you.”

“I understand sir.”

“You can get to work.” He says and walks out leaving me reeling with anger.

Change my tomboy look?

Wait.

As in Frankie, Frankie Thomas to change her Tomboy look?

I look good. I know I do. It’s a hideous look but I know I’m beautiful.

Wait.

Beautiful?

I walk to the mirror and look at myself.

Yes. I’m beautiful. I like this look so changing it will be a bit tough. The good thing is that I’m sticking to this look for now. End month is a bit far and I can comfortably rock in my loose jeans and the only pair of canvas I have till then.

I straighten the apron and walk back to the bartender.

“Talked to the manager?” that’s the bartender.

“Yes Tim. He doesn’t like my outfit.”

“True that. I don’t like it too. You look like you bang girls.” He says laughing.

“And is there a problem with that? Love is for everyone. I’m straight though. ” he is so annoying.

“Prove it?”

“I have proven it with the customers.”

“Prove it with me.”

“Go to hell! You are never getting into these loose pants.” I glare at him making him laugh.

“Look at that.” 

I follow his gaze to a young man who has walked in. He looks unkempt and confused. I look at Tim and shrug.

“Wanna try that?” he asks with a grin.

“Definitely.” I give him one last glare and walk to the customer who is now seated at the farthest end of the club, crouched in a corner.