Excerpt: The Disillusioned Life of Frankie Blanchard

The next day I went out on my own to go get a milkshake at Dairy Burger, a local hamburger joint. I was just waiting for them to serve it when Christy and Paul Parker entered.

“Hello, Frankie,” Paul greeted warmly.

I smiled at him. “Hi, Paul,” I returned. Not wanting to be rude, I threw in a, “Hello, Christy.”

Christy smirked at me. “We're getting a quick dinner before our American Family Committee meeting,” she told me.

“That's nice,” I said, trying to be polite while giving off an air of “I just don't give a fuck”. To be conversational, though, I added, “I'm just here for a milkshake.”

“I saw your father out with a woman the other night, and I nearly didn't recognize him. It's about time he decided to become a normal member of society,” Christy mentioned casually.

Whatever expression I had on my face dropped as I stared at Christy. “Christy,” Paul warned.

The teen behind the counter called out my milkshake, which I grabbed quickly as Christy continued. “Paul, I'm just saying it's great that Tim Blanchard finally realized he needs to set a decent example for his daughter. Who knows what kind of deviant Francine would otherwise turn out to be if she never learned her father was wrong?”

Seeing red, I threw my milkshake in Christy Parker's face. “For the record, he still wears women's clothes,” I hissed, my voice low and dangerous. “My daddy is a transvestite, so just get used to that. He's only trying to impress his new girlfriend and once he's sure she'll like him for him, this phase he's going through will stop, Christy.”

Fully aware I had caused a scene but even more aware of the fact I didn't care, I stormed off. I hated that I was milkshake-less, but decided it was still worth every penny.