Disclaimer: Like I would have the genius to come up with it on my own…well except for the characters that I actually invented.

Chapter 1

There were at least three reasons why Francesca thought she shouldn't get out bed: she had no job, no boyfriend, and there was currently a perfectly good bottle of scotch in her right hand.

These problems or blessings, it all depended on how you liked to see it, had all happened because of the occurrences of yesterday. Chronologically it happened in this order: She was fired from her job because she told her boss, who was also her most recent boyfriend, to go to hell. Being in a furious rage, she then promptly announced over the PA system that the company was full of idiots and she was glad she was leaving. The only problem after proclaiming this was that no one got up and did the slow clap like they did in the movies. All of the employees just sat there and stared at her like she was a complete moron.

Fiddling with the system then caused her to be thrown out of the building on her ass. She picked herself up after this and walked home, where she had collapsed on her bed with her scotch and hadn't moved since.

Francesca was enveloped in the flannel sheets of her bed, and she wasn't drunk either. (But that was probably what all drunken people thought, because she was most definitely more than a little tipsy) While she pondered her next move she twirled her long dark brown hair between her fingers. I really should start looking for a job, if I don't I won't have this apartment in a month. And I am not going back to mother for help.

It was a difficult decision: to get out of bed and begin the working life again, or stay in bed and be a slob for the next week and a half. Francesca found that option number two was exceedingly appealing. She rolled over, closed her green eyes, and fell into a drunken nap.

The sound of Simon and Garfunkle woke her up. Oh God she thought. She dragged herself out of the bed and stumbled over to her dresser. She looked at her cell phone; it was her best friend Julie. Should she answer? A definite NO. She let it ring itself to voicemail and put it on her bedside table, just in case she decided to answer.

She crawled back under the sheets and fell asleep…for about 30 seconds.

And here's to you Mrs. Robinson

Jesus loves you more than you will know

Oh, oh, oh

Francesca grabbed the phone and fumbled for the send key, "Julie what in God's name do you want?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," said Julie's always cheerful voice

"How do I sound like I'm doing, Julie?" Francesca said her voice on edge

"You sound irritated and drunk."

"I am irritated, but I am not drunk, I'm just tired. Now please stop calling me so I can go to sleep"

Julie countered, "Exactly how long have you been in bed?" She was answered with silence. She asked, "Over 12 hours?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"Around 24. I've only taken bathroom and scotch breaks."

"Scotch breaks?" Julie asked

"When I run out I get more out of the liquor cabinet. It's hardly a difficult concept to grasp." said Francesca

Julie was silent for a moment, "I'm coming over, you need moral support and someone needs to get you out of bed. I think your life will go on if you at least make an effort."

"Do not come over."

Francesca was ignored.

"I'll be there in ten minutes, good thing we live so close to each other." Julie hung up the phone. Francesca thought she should change her clothes looking down at her ancient NYU shirt and ripped plaid pajama pants. It didn't matter as Julie had seen her looking worse so she wasn't going to change. There's no point in looking good if you're not going anywhere.

Francesca had hardly had time to turn on the coffee pot before she heard knocking at her door. Count on Julie to be exceedingly punctual. Francesca, who was not quite ready for her bubbly friend, pretended to look for her slippers and robe to kill time before letting Julie into the apartment.

"Why did you make me wait so long?"

"Because you get on my nerves." Francesca walked over to the couch and plopped herself down, "You know Julie I really don't wish to be bothered."

"Well, if I let you keep this up for another day or two you'll never have a life."

"I didn't have a life before."

"Exactly. That's why you're going to get up, get dressed, go to Fifth Avenue and max out all of your mother's credit cards!"

Francesca was not agreeing with this idea, "I'm not going anywhere...and I cut up all of her cards last month. The proverbial umbilical cord."

"Well, if you won't do that at least get some exercise. If I had a body like yours I would run every day of my life."

"I usually do run everyday"

"Yes, you usually run everyday but did you today?" Julie asked but she already knew the answer.

"No."

"Did you run yesterday?"

"No. And Julie, my body is not perfect by any standard. Have you seen these shoulders? I look like a linebacker."

"Oh yeah, because a great body doesn't consist of great abs, the firmest butt in New York, long legs, and not to mention the best boobs I have ever seen!" said Julie, "You see I'm complimenting you on your body and I'm not even a lesbian! Imagine what the men of the world must think of you. Now get up! You're going running!"

Francesca propped her feet up on her coffee table and said angrily, "No. I'm not."

"Oh, yes you are!"

"No!"

"It'll make you feel better. You always ran in high school when you were upset." Francesca pondered a run. On the downside it would make her tired and sweaty, but she was already past the point of disgusting on the lazy level. But a run would tire her out, allowing her to come back to her apartment and sleep some more. Yes, she would run.

"Fine, but only because you're making me." Said Francesca stubbornly getting off the couch. Julie became happy Julie once again. They entered the mess that was Francesca's bedroom. Clothes were strewn everywhere and the blinds were drawn, creating a stuffy, lightless environment.

"Great, now let's find you something to wear." Digging through Francesca's dresser she asked, "What do you usually wear?"

"Something comfy," replied Francesca. Today was not a day to try and look good.

"Really?" questioned Julie. All whilst still digging through Francesca's drawers and throwing clothes everywhere. "Last time I checked you were the kind of person who liked to show off any way they could. That would probably mean that you wear spandex running clothes. I know you wear spandex." Julie said menacingly.

"Julie I do not wear spandex. I don't need to go around in tight skimpy clothes to pick up guys like you do."

"Really, Franny, then what are these," Julie said gesturing to a drawer full of running clothes which, of course, were all made out of spandex.

"It's not what you think…I…um those are just for show. I don't really wear those they were a…um…gift from …from my mother!" Francesca barely spit out the lame excuse before Julie was on to her lie.

"If they were from your mother they would have Versace on them not Nike. So I would hardly think that she would have bought them for you, besides you haven't talked to her in almost a year. Franny, I think that was a big, fat lie you just told me.", Julie continued, "and if it was a lie then that would mean that you really do wear these, right?"

"Maybe." Francesca squeaked out. This was entirely too embarrassing for her, even if it was Julie. She didn't seem like the kind of person that would wear that to exercise in. "Julie, why is it so important anyway?"

"Well I always assumed that you would want to look your best when running. I mean all of the hot guys run in the morning. And you need a new boyfriend now that you aren't with asshole-of-the-month anymore." Julie said as she started to look through the drawer of workout clothes. "Let's face it Franny the most important thing right now is making you look your best. It's not like you have anything better to do anyway." Finding the perfect outfit she held it up to Francesca who was sitting on the bed.

"I've never actually worn that," Francesca stated, "I always thought it was too tight." She eyed the outfit carefully. The top was red and really only looked like a sports bra. The shorts were black spandex, really short black spandex. "I don't think I want to wear that, per say," she said warily.

"Well you know what," Julie said, "you're wearing it." Julie stalked over to Francesca and grabbed her arm. Marching her over to the bathroom Julie grabbed the clothes on the way. Both the clothes and Francesca were thrown into the bathroom and the door was closed tightly after them. "Now put those on while I look for your shoes." Julie said cheery once again.

About five minutes later Francesca came out of the bathroom. "So how do I look?" she asked Julie twirling around, imitating those cheesy moments out of movies.

"You look sexy. Every guy on the trail is going to fall over when they look at you. Now get going!" Julie said tossing Francesca her tennis shoes. Francesca caught them and hurriedly put them on, she suddenly really wanted to go running. As soon as she got laced up she asked Julie if she wanted to go out with some friends tonight.

"Yeah we can go to that new bar down on 10th. I'll call everyone and we'll meet there at around eight." Julie was making her way to the door. "I'll see you later Franny! Now get out there and knock 'em dead!"

Running in central park during the day allowed Francesca to settle herself. She didn't dwell on the past when she was running she zoned out. This is why she didn't watch where she was going and tripped on an uneven part of the concrete path. Francesca fell not noticing until she was halfway to the ground. Oh shit I think I'm going to hit my head. She didn't even have time to brace herself for impact; she hit her head and completely blacked out. She didn't know that she had tripped over a crack in time.

Exactly ten minutes later and over one hundred years in the past Will and Elizabeth Turner found her among many other observers, laying outside a pub, wearing what they thought were the most scandalous garments they had ever seen.

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!