Part 6. Mission: incomplete.
Whether she was going to get a second interview or not was still up in the air, and if she didn't get in she was going to completely blame it on Michael and Trevor, who were currently not speaking to each other, which was great, except that because they weren't being assholes to each other, they were being assholes to everyone else. As soon as they had gotten back to Michael's house and Trevor took off in his truck and purposely ran into the gate as he drove off, Michael told his wife, while she complained about this, to 'shut the hell up,' which Trisha thought was deserving, but still rude.
Now, Trisha sat in her guestroom, Franklin sitting at the bottom of the bed.
"He said I was his fuckin' brother?!" he asked, for a third time. "Is he for real?"
"I'm pretty sure he is..."
"Crazy motherfucker," Franklin said, as he stood up. "Look, I gottta go, I'll halla at chu later, Little Homie."
"Yeah, okay," Trisha said, falling back into her bed, not planning on leaving the room, not if meant dealing with any De Santa, even if she was kind of one herself. She watched Franklin leave only to close her eyes after. She could only hope, only pray, she got into this program, she needed it...this, to get away from this, this life of criminal insanity.
XXX
But of course staying in the room all night was next to impossible, not when she was hungry and bored after only a few hours. She peeled herself off the bed and headed out the door, only to be greeted with a girly voice, giggling from Tracey's bedroom. "Te he he, You're so gross!"
Trisha rolled her eyes, walking faster to the stairs. Downstairs, Michael's son, Jimmy, was standing in front of the entrance to the living room. His face was slightly red and a frown was on his lips.
"Don't bother going in there," he said, as Trisha was walking passed him. "Dad's being a dick again."
"Yeah, I know," Trisha nodded.
"I just don't understand his problem," Jimmy continued. "All I did was ask to borrow his car...I wasn't gonna sell it or anything, I just wanted to go...see my friend."
"It's not you," Trisha explained, knowing full well that Jimmy's friend was actually drugs. "He just had a fight with his husband."
"...you mean Uncle T?"
"Yeah," Trisha nodded, with a smirk. "They had a little tiff...all over my interview."
"Yeah...that sucks, but it wasn't like you were going to get in anyway," Jimmy said, and Trisha raised an eyebrow to match that of Rachael's. "I think I'll just take his car away, he always leaves the keys in the car...you won't tell him, right?"
Trisha frowned. "Nope."
Jimmy walked off, out of the front door, and Trisha walked over to look through the threshold, into the living room. Michael sat there, scowl on his face. All the blinds were closed and his eyes were glued to the TV screen. Trisha turned away, there was no point going in there only to bet shouted at. She didn't want to make any noise in the kitchen, even though she was hungry, so she headed out the back door, into Michael's backyard, which was more like a courtyard. There was tennis court, a fountain and a pool.
There was noises coming from the pool, like little laughs and splashing sounds, Trisha paused, alarmed. "No, no, Senorita, you must move more with your hips."
What the fuck?! Trisha thought to herself. She should know better than to eavesdrop on his family. She walked down the steps toward the fountain and climbed over the half wall and started walking in what little grass they had, in between the hedge and the tennis court. She couldn't help but feel entirely out of place here.
It was a horrible thought to think that she could possibly have more in common with Trevor than she thought. She was terrified by that. Trevor had made her an outcast to the social norm, to what a normal teenager should be doing. Maybe not what the De Santa's did, but at least have friends. Trisha couldn't help but feel like she literally had no one.
She sat down in the grass and watched as the sunset over the city, she just wanted a normal life...
XXX
Michael lay in bed, up a lot earlier than he liked to be, especially after last night's screaming match at Jimmy, for taking Michael's car again, without permission. He really didn't know where these kids got their nerve. Tracey was out all night and making sick phone calls and acting like Michael didn't know, because he didn't give her that credit card or pay her cell phone bill, and Jimmy was wasting his life away being a useless, drug addicted twat.
At least he still had Trisha, he obviously knew she wasn't really his kid, but at least he could pretend that one of his kids were normal.
Amanda wasn't in bed, so Michael didn't have to be quiet when he got up, he really didn't know where she was and he really didn't care either, they were still kind of fighting and it only made it worse yesterday when he had told her to shut the hell up, but he couldn't help it, Trevor just made him crazy sometimes...or all the time.
He dressed and went downstairs, Trisha was coming in from the backyard as he walked into the kitchen. "What the hell were you doing out there?"
"I fell asleep,"Trisha mumbled, not looking up at him. Michael however, stared at her.
"The fuck are you talkin' about?" he asked. "You were out there all night?" Trisha nodded, frowning. "What's wrong with you?"
Trisha sighed. "Your family hates me and I hate all of them."
"What?"
"I have no friends and my parents are dead...anything else you need to know, bro?"
"Yeah, actually, one more thing," Michael retorted, he didn't want to fight with Trisha, he had had enough fighting. "Why are you acting like Trevor?"
She glared at him. "I'm not, don't say that again!"
"Nah, you're right, he at least owns his fucked life," Michael offered. "You're acting like me...maybe I should be proud."
"Yeah, right...make this about you, everything is about you, or Trevor, or you two bitching at each other about shit that happened before I was even born!" Trisha yelled."Guess what? I don't care! I don't care about Brad, I don't care about the heists you used to pull off, I don't care if you two want to rip each other apart or if you two just finally freaking make out already! I DON'T FUCKING CARE!"
"Make out...?"
Trisha literally let out a scream. "I'm leaving!"
This made Michael realize himself and he glared at her. "Like fuck you are!"
"You can't tell me what to do," she told him as she walked into the foyer, he followed her. "I'm not stupid, I'm not going to get in anymore trouble than you already got me in."
"It wasn't my god damn idea!"
"But you didn't stop it!"
"You're right, you're fuckin' right, okay?" Michael almost pleaded with her. "I'm sorry!"
"All you and Trevor do is live in the past, no matter what he says, he won't ever be over what you did to him, you won't ever be over it either, that's obvious," Trisha said, as she walked over to the front door. "You won't ever be over being a big, bad bank robber, that's why you didn't stop him, because you still think it's cool!"
"I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about!" Michael retorted, denying all possibilities that this might be true, instead, focusing on what was important. "And where THE FUCK do you think you're going?"
"With Franklin," Trisha answered, finally. "I called him outside."
"You know, he was there too, through all of it, not with Brad, but..." Michael glared at her eye roll. "He was there, shooting, the night Trevor killed your family, so don't act like he's some god damn angel!"
"Why?" she replied, dryly. "You do."
XXX
Trevor sat in his trailer, after a night of drinking himself into a stupor. Fuck Michael, just fuck him! He was such a asshole, such a fucking-
His phone buzzed, and he picked up to see who texted him. It was Michael, that fuck! But he sat up a little straighter, feeling a little bit more alive, as he touched the text icon on his phone.
Michael: Text Received: Can you divorce your best friend?
Michael: Text Received: : Irreconcilable differences or because he's a fuckin nut case?
You: Text Sent: Awwww U really want to get rid of me that bad?
Michael: Text Received: If I did, I'd blow your fuckin head off.
You: Text Sent: Ur so romantic Mikey!
Michael: Text Received: Fuck you!
Michael: Text Received: Trisha bitched me out today then left with F.
Michael: Text Received: No idea where the fuck they went.
You: Text Sent: Y does she like him more than us?
You: Text Sent: Im hurt
Michael: Text Received:"What we've got here is failure to communicate."
You: Text Sent: Is that 1 of ur dumbass movie quotes again?!
You: Text Sent: go fuck urself with those!
You: Text Sent: Y the fuck R U such a nerd?!
Michael: Text Received: Excuse me for tryin to lighten the mood.
You: Text Sent: Kicking U in the dick wold help with that.
Michael: Text Received: WTF?!
You: Text Sent: How R we gonna make Trish like us?
You: Text Sent: QUOTE SOMTHING AGAIN & ILL EAT U FOR BREAKFAST!
Michael: Text Received: We could try not fighting for awhile?
You: Text Sent: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
You: Text Sent: Good 1 Mikey!
Michael: Text Received: I'm serious, T. We should try.
You: Text Sent: Nooooope!