46...

Frank refused to look back again until he had reached Oak Street, one of the two major streets that bordered the panhandle of Golden Gate Park. When he did look behind him, pretending to scratch his chin on his shoulder, Tommy and his friend had gone back to playing the game.
How long could you play Frisbee for, for fuck’s sake?
Waiting for a break in the traffic, Frank dashed across the road and hopped up on the curb. He marched up the hill towards the house. He was aware that he would look like he was walking quickly if the two of them happened to look over at him, so he attempted to walk a little slower, a little more in control. But the promise of the safe haven of home was too much and he pressed on at the same rate.
Charging the front steps two at a time, he threw open the front door with a well-practiced, one-handed move. Once inside, he again took the stairs one at a time.
Did he remember that guy from Evelyn’s party? No. And he had spent a lot of time mocking the others that were there.
There were a lot of people there though, and how could the guy pull out the name Evelyn and the location of the party on Fulton as a fluke?
Frank opened the apartment door, and dropping the keys on the table per usual, stormed into the bedroom.
He would know the names and places if he had been watching Frank for awhile.
“Calm the fuck down man,” Frank muttered to himself. “You are freaking out.”
Nonetheless, he pressed himself against the window that just marginally looked out over the park and slowly drew the hand me down curtain back. He had to contort himself around the dresser just to get a slight view of the park. He then had to stretch his neck to a nearly impossible angle to see the section of the park that he needed.
He could see Tommy make another fantastic throw, his stance a picture of beauty. His target and partner in crime were hidden behind a eucalyptus tree at this angle. Frank sat with the side of his face pressed against that cold window and continued to watch. At no point did Tommy turn to look up at the small window, but after a number of minutes his friend came back into view and approached him. They talked for a minute before Tommy gestured him back out into the field and fired another one at him.
Feeling the outside air attempting to press its way through the glass, Frank stood there, closed his eyes and tried to remember Evelyn’s party. He could imagine that packed, fake Victorian flat as if he were looking directly at it.