"…hate this, I hate this, I hate this, I hate this! ARRRGH!"

Frances "Frankie" Foster groaned miserably in aggravation as she struggled to sort through the chaotic mess of papers piled high atop her computer desk. After a few more moments of trying to put the muddle into an order of semblance, she growled venomously and slammed a clenched fist hard upon the desktop, barely unable to contain her rage.

"It's just the biggest scam ever, I swear to God! Stupid, cheap, no-good sons of bi-"

"F-Frankie?" a familiar suddenly piped up from outside in the hallway. Instinctively the startled girl hastily clasped her hands tightly over her mouth, effectively censoring whatever dark curses she was about to elicit.

"Mmph?" she emitted a muffled grunt in reply, swiveling about towards her doorway. The eight-year-old child peeking in blushed slightly, a bit embarrassed that he had clearly interrupted something.

"I'm sorry!" Mac immediately apologized, quickly spotting the mess of forms. "I didn't mean to bother you or anything, it's just that…well, I was in my room and…I just….uh…"

As soon as he laid eyes upon his guardian's haggard expression, his features quickly became thick with worry. "F-Frankie, are you okay?"

The young woman just moaned sadly, uncovering her mouth and slumping dejectedly in her seat. Mac frowned concernedly as he cautiously plodded a little bit into her room.

"Frankie?" he whispered again. "Is everything-"

"Mac…do you have any idea how much I spend taking care of you?" she suddenly asked bluntly, much to the child's surprise.

"Huh?" he murmured, warily making his way towards her. "I-"

"Feeding you, clothing you, doctor's appointments…" Frankie droned in example. "Do you have so much as a clue how much that costs me every month?"

"I…I…" Mac stammered nervously as he continued to cautiously trod across the room, finally halting at her feet with a hoarse squeak of,

"N-no…"

A dead silence settled thickly over the tense atmosphere for a few moments. Thus, Mac nearly jumped out of his skin when Frankie suddenly bent over and grabbed him roughly by his shirt collar, yanking him within inches of her face.

"BECAUSE I ONLY WISH THAT IS WAS THE SAME AS WHAT I HAVE TO PAY MONTHLY FOR MY STUDENT LOANS!" she wailed miserably, abruptly letting go and settling back in her chair, burying her face in her hands with a sad whimper.

Completely dumbstruck by her screamed lament, a badly spooked Mac hastily retreated back a few paces, his little heart pounding like mad within his chest as he eyed the atrociously rankled young woman warily.

"W-what?" he gasped breathlessly, badly frazzled and horribly confused. Sensing the distress in his voice, Frankie whined softly as she looked up to shoot him an apologetic glance.

"Oh jeez, I'm sorry pal! I didn't-" she began to baffle in profuse remorse.

"Didn't what? What's going on here?" Mac whimpered imploringly, his head spinning in bewilderment. The redhead just shook her head sadly as she reached out towards him.

"C'mere." She begged, managing to crack a weak smile in assurance. Recognizing the gesture, the eight-year-old cautiously made his way towards her and allowed the redhead to scoop him up and deposit him gently onto her lap.

"I'm sorry about that, Mac." Frankie murmured, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah…I guess." He muttered half-heartedly, hugging her tightly.

"I'm really sorry." She whispered ruefully again, draping an arm tightly around him. "Honestly, I didn't mean to spook you or anything, I'm just feeling a little stressed right now."

Mac glanced up at her and grimaced. "A little stressed?" he stated incredulously.

Frankie moaned and stuck out her tongue. "You're right, scratch that. Let's make that "five seconds away from having a total meltdown," instead. Blech!"

"Well what are you doing, anyway?" The boy demanded, pointing at the chaotic muddle of documents piled high before them.

"Student loans, pal." She explained dutifully as she rolled her eyes, holding up a form for him to see.

"Student what?" Mac repeated curiously. "Wait, you mean for college?"

"It's a loooong, story." Frankie began to ramble on sarcastically. "It's a story about the naïve high school graduate who wished to pursue her dreams of finishing her education, but instead the evil Office of Financial Aid at her college decided to royally stick it to her with its foul horde of official forms and interest rates."

"What?" Mac whined in bewilderment. "Frankie, all I asked was-"

"Mac, the "student loans" I'm working on are basically a college's way of putting nicely that I'm gonna be in debt for the next fifty years of my life." She muttered bitterly in reply.

"Oh c'mon, it can't possibly be that bad." Mac tried to unsuccessfully console her. "I'm sure-"

"Mac, just promise me." Frankie suddenly blurted out.

"Huh?"

"When it's time for you to go off to college, promise me that you'll get a scholarship, financial aid, or at least something." She implored fiercely.

"What? Frankie, I'm only eight! I don't-" he tried to explain to her.

"Mac, promise me." She only repeated resolutely, positioning him so they faced each other eye to eye. "I'm not asking for much, pal. Please, just promise me that when you go to college, you'll get a full ride, and you'll never, ever, ever have to go through this torture ever in your entire life. Can you do that?" she whispered, her face just a hairsbreadth from the child's.

"I…I-I…I…."

"Mac, promise me!" she implored him piteously, giving him a firm shake. "Promise me Mac! Please! I don't want to see you having to suffer this agony! Promise me!"

"Okay, okay!" He yelped. "I promise! I promise! No students loans for me, I get it! I get it! Frankie, leggo! I get it! I-"

"Good." The redhead grunted in satisfaction, promptly withdrawing from her forced pledge and settling back exhaustedly in her seat.

"Jeez, Frankie!" Mac squeaked indignantly. "What was that all about?"

"When the time comes, hopefully you'll never have to find out." She answered flatly.

"But-"

"Nuh-uh! Enough said, you don't wanna know any more."

And with that the argument abruptly ended. Frankie shut her mouth tightly and lapsed into a dejected silence. Sighing heavily, she sprawled limply in her chair and began to absentmindedly stroke the boy's hair as she stared off blankly into space, obviously near the breaking point of mental exhaustion.

"Well, look on the bright side…" Mac finally whispered hopefully, eager to break the awkward silence.

"Oh yeah? What?" Frankie inquired distractedly.

"At least Bloo's not here." the boy joked weakly in an attempt to cheer her up. "He'd probably be telling you to try and use Monopoly money or something to pay off your loans…heh…heh heh…"

Much to his surprise however, rather than chime in with his laughter, Frankie just threw back her head emitted a long, exasperated groan, making her sound akin to some wounded animal.

"Maaaac…" she moaned mirthlessly, further augmenting the boy's confusion.

"What?" he whined bewilderedly, pulling at her emerald sweater. "What'd I say? I just-"

Before he could inquire any further, the two were suddenly interrupted by the extremely familiar sound of hopping outside the door. Shooting each other wry looks, neither one cared to turn about, knowing all too well who it was paying them a short visit.

"Good afternoon, Miss Frances, Master Mac." Mr. Herriman greeted the duo politely as he took a dignified stance in the doorway.

"Hi, Mr. Herriman." they muttered half-heartedly in unison.

"Miss Frances, I was just curious, but have you sorted out those finances yet of yours yet for this month?" He immediately inquired in his terse, no-nonsense manner, much to the girl's animosity.

"No…" she moaned in the demeanor of a cranky toddler, wearily going back to sorting through her mess of documents and figures. The room then went silent for a few seconds, before suddenly,

"You do know that I've locked away the board games in their respective closet, Miss Frances." Mr. Herriman warned her sharply. "Am I correct to assume that is the truth?"

"I know Mr. H, I know." The girl grumbled miserably in deep embarrassment, her cheeks now sporting a noticeable tint of scarlet. "I told you, it's not gonna happen again. I promised, remember?"

"I'm quite aware of that, Miss Frances, but mind you, I just want to make sure we don't have any more "misunderstandings" with your alma mater."

"I know, I know." She mumbled sourly again. "Mr. Herriman, I told you, I promised I wouldn't try and pull that off anymore."

"Very well. You'll inform me as soon as you're finished, yes?"

"Yes." She answered in an irked grunt.

"Thank you, Miss Frances."

With this simple but bizarre exchange, Mr. Herriman promptly continued on his way as Frankie resumed sorting through her disordered mound of paperwork, as if the entire thing had been as casual as a chat about the hallways needing a good sweeping or the menu for that night's dinner.

This of course greatly compounded the dumb shock of the little eight-year-old still seated upon the young woman's lap, who had gone completely slack-jawed at the ludicrously unthinkable that he had just heard.

"You did what?" he gasped in horror, while Frankie didn't even so much as blink.

"You heard him, pal." She replied bluntly.

"Frankie…" Mac groaned, gawking at her in utter disbelief. "Don't tell me that you actually tried to….that you really used…oh no, please don't-"

The lanky redhead just shrugged her shoulders. "Hey, trust me, when you're my age you'll think it'll be worth a shot too…."

The End

As can be seen, this was written in the midst of working out financial aid information for my incoming freshmen year, which isn't exactly the most fun thing on earth..

Please read and review, any feedback is appreciated!