“Well…” Frankie says, pausing for a second. “Is he hot?”

I grit my teeth. I know Frankie – I know that when she’s got that tone of voice, I’m not going to like what she says. I’m not wrong. I’m half minded to throw the phone across the room.

“Frankie! That’s not the point! You know how much this means to me – what he did to me. It’s him, Nate – I know it is,” I say, tapping irritably at my keyboard.

The mouse pointer isn’t moving. “Damn thing’s crashed again!”

“Kim – girl chill. You’re acting crazy.”

“If you tell me to take ten deep breaths, I swear –.”

I break off. Frankie’s right, though I sure don’t want to admit it. I kind of wish she was here, not an ocean away. I could use a shoulder to – not cry on, but hug while I figure things out.

“So what if it is?” Frankie says. “You don’t even know if he had anything to do with –”

“With me getting bullied for years?” I spit back. My voice is acid: cold and bitter.

“Hey! I’m not the enemy here. Don’t take your mad out on me.”

I sigh, and the air seems to stream out of my lungs forever. When I’m done, I feel completely deflated. “I’m sorry, but –”

“But nothing. It’s fine. Seriously, though Kim. You told me London was going to be your fresh start. Was Nate the one that bullied you?”

“No, but –”

“Do you know it was him who wrote that letter?”

I bite my lip, I want to scream down the phone and drown out Frankie’s reasonableness.

“No, but –”

“Do you even know it’s the same guy?”

“Frankie!” I hiss. I just want a moment of silence; a moment to think; and Frankie’s not helping.

“Anyway…” Frankie continues, as if she’s not spent the last couple of minutes raking up every bad memory from my past and throwing them into the air like scattered leaves. “You never answered me. What does he look like: tall; big hands? Because you know what they say –”

I groan. “Frankie, you can’t boil everything in the world down to whether someone wants to sleep with you…”

“Well, sure,” Frankie giggles, “that’s one way to look at it. But I try and think about things differently – how can you be sure if you don’t find out?”

“No,” I say. I’m surprised by the firmness in my voice. “Trust me, Frankie, there is absolutely no way that I will ever sleep with Nate. First, he’s a colleague – you don’t shit where you eat. Second – he lives right next door! So that goes double. And third –”

I paused, distracted by the cursor finally starting to move on my screen. It goes haywire for a second, and the hard drive makes a screeching sound before everything settles back down. I was just about to hold my finger down on the power button, but I pull it back – almost guiltily.

“And third?” Frankie echoes. “Let me guess? You’re…”

I hold my breath. I have a funny feeling that I know what Frankie’s going to say. It’s not like we haven’t talked about it before…

“Scared.” She finishes. “You still haven’t –”

I can’t help but glance around the empty apartment before I speak. It’s stupid – it’s not like anyone could be watching, but I’m embarrassed. “Frankie, do we really have to go over this again? I’ll sleep with someone –”

"– when you find the right guy,” Frankie says, plucking the words right out of my mouth. “The thing is, Kim, your twenties are passing you by quickly. I’m starting to think that you might dry up down there before you find the perfect guy.”

“He doesn’t have to be perfect,” I groan, moving the mouse pointer, and clicking. “Just… right. Trust me; I’ll know him when I see him.”

When Frankie replies, her voice is quiet. “Are you sure?”

I don’t answer.

I scroll through the list of surnames quickly, trying to take my mind off the awkward conversation with Frankie. I wish the damn laptop hadn’t crashed – or whatever happened – because if I could go back in time and never have that conversation with Frankie, I would.

Alfreds, Bettys, and God-only-knows how many more suburban names, flash by as I scroll all the way down to Nate’s.

“Foster…” I breathe. It doesn’t sound right, but there’s no mistaking that face. “It’s him, Frankie, it’s actually him…”

Frankie’s keyboard strokes echoed down the line like hailstones on a tin roof. I barely hear them, though. The world is closing in around me. I thought I was escaping to London to get away from everything that had held me back in the past, but it all just caught up. I thought this was my second chance.

“Oh, fuck that, Kim,” Frankie whistles. “No way. NO way! You’ve got to be kidding me, Kim. This guy’s a God. He looks like he should be in the Olympics, or something. Ask him out on a date,” she begs. “Please, just do it, for me – hell, do it for all of us…”

Frankie’s excited babble barely breaks the surface of my becalmed mind. I feel like I’m underwater, with waves breaking on the shore above my head.

"… Don’t you dare screw me on this, Kim,” Frankie says, still talking. “Ask him out on a date. If you don’t, you’re setting feminism back two decades. You want that on your conscience, girl?”

“Frankie!” I shout, surprising myself. “Will you just shut the hell up for a second and let me think?”

She goes dead silent. I don’t blame her for her excitement. Even looking at this high school photo, even in thumbnail size, it’s clear how goddamn attractive he is. But none of that matters, not to me. He’s a symbol of everything I am trying to leave behind.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” I say. “I know you’re only trying to help. But you know me – you know there’s no way I’m going to ask him out. It’s just not… me.”

Frankie keeps her mouth shut for a few seconds, and I’m almost tempted to speak when she gets there first.

“Maybe…” She said slowly, “this is what you need? Maybe he’s what you need? Did you ever think that?”

“Frankie,” I groan, “you’ve been trying to get me to open my legs to all takers for as long as I’ve known you. This is just another –”

“Not true! I’ve only put a word in for the pretty ones!” Frankie jokes. Then her voice turns serious. “Besides, I’m not doing it because I’m trying to mess with you. I’m doing it because – hell – you need to, Kim. You need to loosen up a bit. You know that. And…”

I hear a few more mouse clicks bouncing down the phone line.

"… Judging by Nate’s high school football pics, he’ll more than loosen you up…”

“Frankie!” I giggle, closing the lid of my laptop and tossing it aside. I don’t need Nate’s face staring at me off the screen. It’s too damn tempting.

“I’m serious, Kim. Think about it, ok?”

“Think about what?”

“You know what I mean. So what if he’s your neighbor? You could have a no strings kind of fling; it would do you a world of good.”

“So what if he’s my neighbor?” I repeat, dumbfounded. “So, if something goes wrong, I’ll still have to see his face every day!”

“Yeah,” Frankie laughs. “So, who wouldn’t want to?”

“No way; ‘ain’t gonna’ happen.” I insist.

“So you were lying to me?”

“Huh? Lying about what?”

“About making a fresh start. Nate has no idea who you are. If he really is what caused you so much pain over the years, maybe he’s exactly what you need to make it all better. You can trust me, girl – he’d make it allllll better…”

“What’s that “mean girls” quote, Frankie? Stop trying to make it happen – it’s never going to happen.”

“Okay, okay,” Frankie says. “But remember, you were the one who wanted to make a fresh start. You were the one who said you were going to throw yourself into your London life. Just think about it, okay?”

“I’m not promising anything,” I mutter.

Frankie laughs. “I’ll take that as a win.”