Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > My Time Will Come..(Won't It?)
Hospital Bed Crawl
4 reviewsClick. “The fuck. Lifetime?” He rolled his eyes and turned around in his seat. “Seriously, Travie! Lifetime?” “Shut up you stupid, short, whitest kid I know!”
2Moving
In the last few seconds the room had fallen into a dead silence. Patrick was rubbing the back of his neck, trying not to make things so obvious and Cali was eyeing him suspiciously. Travie just raised an eyebrow to the sudden situation and took a step back. Whatever was going, he was so not involved. He’d been around these girls long enough now to know that whenever Troian had that look on her face—which was becoming quite often these days—and Patrick was nearby it had to be bad. And he didn’t do bad. Unless it was in bed with Cali.
Calista took a step toward the capped boy. “You have exactly four point fifty seconds to explain why she looked like she was going to jump off a bridge.” Anyone who knew Cali knew that when she started giving you exact time spans it wasn’t a good idea to waste them because she wasn’t that big on second chances.
Patrick bit his lip and did his shrug thing that annoyed everyone. What was he supposed to say? ‘Sorry. I told her she wasn’t pretty and that I really only wanted to use her’? Yeah, that would go over well. “Hell if I know, she’s always on about something.”
Cali took another step forward. Christ, this girl could be so menacing. “Two point thirty seconds,” She warned him.
Patrick glared at her and threw his hands up. “How do you even know that?! Who the hell keeps track of nano-seconds?”
She didn’t bother to answer him, she just picked up the nearest picture frame and aimed it him. “What did you do to her?” If there was anyone who held the possibility of having mind powers, it was Calista. She always seemed to know exactly what people wanted or what they were thinking. Then there was the whole being close to Troian. That made it kind of hard to miss the emotion she was harboring as she ran out the door.
“I didn’t do shit! She’s always over reacting! Honestly. Why the fuck do you always blame me anyway?” Shame was crawling up over his color to coat him face. He couldn’t hide it. “You do realize she had issues, right?”
“Because you ALWAYS do something to her. Ever since she met you, her life had been hell. Pete’s gonna have a hell of a time trying to find a new singer if you don’t spill, right now.” Patrick didn’t know Calista that well, but he knew her well enough to piss her off and to not underestimate her threats.
“You know what?” Patrick pressed his lips together and took a deep, calming breath, “I’m not doing this right now. I’ll be back later.” If he could just make it to the door…He took a step forward and a loud crash echoed through the room as the picture frame Cali had been holding shattered against the wall in the spot Patrick’s head had been only two seconds ago.
“The fuck you are.”
His jaw dropped. “You do realize that that’s not funny and you could have hit me, right? You missed my face by like an inch!”
Travie ran a hand over his face. He was still as high as a kite but even his common sense was running better at the moment.
“Half an inch. I have good aim; that was just a warning.” Cali took off her heel, Mexican style. And pointed it at him. “If you don’t fix that,” She point at the door, “and make her happy again, I’m going to mess you up good.”
Patrick looked up at the ceiling and sighed. He raised his arms and dropped them to his side. “Dude, seriously. Come on. Tell her to get over herself. What does she think? That life is going to have a happy ending?”
Cali resisted the urge to deck him and closed her eyes. “Travie?” She retreated to him and pecked him on the lips. “I’m going to go find Troian. Check your boy.” She threw a glare at Patrick over her shoulder. “Before I do.”
*
She had made it a good block when a familiar voice, accompanied by the roar of Calista’s car revved up behind her. There was no point in running, she was caught. So she turned around and unwilling made her way up to the driver’s window. Cali had this expecting look across her face and all Troian could do was shrug. She wasn’t going to say anything but then she figured she might as well, because Cali was going to ask. “Life’s not a fairy tale. Apparently looks are everything and all a girl like me can get is whatever someone decides to offer me.”
“Get in,” Cali sighed. “We’ll talk on the way home. You look beat and it looks like its bout ready to rain.”
Troian obeyed without a complaint and trudged around the car to the passenger side. She didn’t bother initiating a conversation, she just stared ahead. Cali glanced over at her before putting the car in gear and driving. Normally, she would have known what to say but she had to admit she felt a little guilty. Not a lot, it wasn’t her fault, but a little since she had convinced her friend to go to Travie’s in the first place.
Silence settled over the car except for the hum of the car running. Time magnified it and with every second the hum sounded more like a roar to Troian. Like the roar of the beast in her stomach, threatening to spill her tears. Up until this point she was good. She was solid as a rock. Up until Cali had stopped at a red light at looked over at her she was good. Up until she reminded herself that Patrick was only using her and then it kinda sucked.
After that it was all downhill and there was nothing she could do about it. Tears leaked from her eyelids no matter how tightly she squeezed them shut and tried push out the reminder that to him she was just another fuck. To Patrick she was just another girl to hit and quit and the fact that he had been her first meant absolutely nothing to him. She hadn’t even enjoyed her first time.
It was strange for her. She had always been the one her cousins teased because she wasn’t having sex until she found the right one. She had always the one that they made fun of, giggled at and rolled their eyes at. She had hated being that girl. But she hadn’t minded being the one who was sure of herself. She had been okay with believing her mom when she told her ‘Your time will come, mija’ and know she wasn’t so sure. It seemed quite obvious to her now that her time would never come. She didn’t have any time. Or rather the world had no time for her.
“So…you gonna tell me what he said?”
Troian ripped herself from her thoughts and stared a lifeless stare at her friend. This was beyond what she had felt the past week. This pain was so much worse and yet it was so much better. She almost relished the feeling of being numb. Almost.
At least now she didn’t have to think about the ‘what ifs’ and the ‘maybes.’ There’s was nothing to wonder about anymore; if she wanted a free fuck then evidently she was more than welcome and if she wanted to feel like she mattered then she could fuck off.
“Nothing. He just talked and I listened and in the end we agreed that I wasn’t the person for him and that was all.”
No more drama. None. She refused to let herself get into anything else. She was so through with all of this love crap. Patrick was right; it most certainly did not exist. She wasn’t even going to bother telling Cali what he said because it really didn’t make a difference.
“You’re lying again,” Cali stated rather then asked. “Why do you feel the need to cover things up with me? I promise I won’t laugh. I won’t think any less of you. Just tell me what did to you. I hate it when you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“That’s it,” Troian sighed.
“Troian.”
“NOTHING!” The words reverberated in the car and left them both quiet. She took a breath to calm her heavy breathing and just leaned against the door, the dark scenery passing her by. She hadn’t meant to do that.
Troian bit her lip in frustration. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking straight ahead. “I just need time to think…I need to go home and calm down.” She sighed after a moment. “I think I should go to Texas.”
*
*
[The next day]
Sunlight poured through the open window, filling the living room an intensity of brightness. Too bright in Troian’s opinion. After last night everything had taken on another twenty ounces of happiness and she didn’t like it one bit. She felt as though the people she passed, the things she heard; just everything was made to remind her how lonely she was. It had all taken on an effect of sugary sweetness that she couldn’t seem to taste. She felt like everyone, even the people in the radio, the characters on TV were mocking her. Laughing at her.
She moved slowly, deliberately as she packed her bags. There was no enthusiasm as she gave the apartment one last clean sweep and made all the beds. She found no enjoyment in trying to decide what she was going to take with her and what she would come back to later. Whatever was most important she would stuff in her bags and the rest she would come back another day and retrieve. Without things thrown on the floor and her clothes no longer in her closet, the apartment looked bare. Pete was still out and about with his family so there was basically no one to have to clean after or cook for and that was just fine. But, you can only stretch out cleaning for so long. Then your mind is free to think about nonsense and things you can’t handle. It all just comes rushing back. An idle mind, after all, is the Devil’s playground.
*
[Patrick]
Ten minutes away Patrick let out a breath of exasperation as he slung himself over Travie’s couch and glared at the ceiling.
Who cares anyway? Get a hold of yourself, Stump. She wasn’t even pretty! Psh. She did nothing for you. Fucking her wasn’t even that…amazing…
“UGH!” Patrick groaned. He grabbed the magazine on the coffee table and smacked his forehead with it. “Get out of my head!” He commanded his thoughts. She wasn’t, He repeated mentally. She sucked. She was fucking pitiful! Yes! And she wasn’t skinny! Or Or pretty! And she was always sitting there all shy and quiet! Why couldn’t she be more…like Cindee! Why did she have to be so…so…adorable and thoughtful…and smart…? “NO!” Patrick snatched up the remote and turned the T.V on. He wasn’t going to think of this right now. He wasn’t going to think of her. He refused to let HER break him and hurt him or use him. Sure, she looked harmless….but they all did. And something about being with Troian made him feel vulnerable. Like he might fall off a cliff any second. What if she didn’t catch him? If you don’t give your heart to anyone then you can’t get it handed back to you in tiny incoherent pieces.
These thoughts made his stomach churn. Hence he turned on the TV. And of course, of all the stupid movies to come on it had to be Romeo and Juliet. WHY did it have to be Romeo and Juliet? He made a look of disgust. Click. A picture of black and white filled the screen. The man held the woman close. *‘Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn…’ Patrick pounded the mute button. “Where the hell do you get these channels?” He yelled into the kitchen where Travie was eating a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles.
“Ioknowe,” Travie called back, spoon in his mouth, eyes concentrating hard on the back of the box.
“Stupid,” He muttered and flipped through the channels. “This is stupid.”
Click.
“The fuck. Lifetime?” He rolled his eyes and turned around in his seat. “Seriously, Travie! Lifetime?”
“Shut up you stupid, short, whitest kid I know!”
“I am not that...short…” Patrick growled and turned back around. Click. “Ah, here we go,” Patrick sat back in relief as the boy on TV tumbled down a hill. Some action, right there. It was all good until he realized the guy on the screen was shouting **As you wish!’ and this was no action movie. “FUCK!” Patrick switched off the TV and slung the remote across the room. It hit the wall loudly and clattered to the floor. “I hate your TV, Travie!”
“Uhuh,” Travie called back absently; still focused on getting through the cereal maze.
Patrick leaned back and re took his earlier position, this time burying his face in the sofa. Maybe he could smother himself to death. Before he could get to work on that, his phone vibrated between his pocket and the couch. His first reaction was Troian! Then as expected, he gathered his pride and checked it, trying to make himself happy that it was Cindee calling him. But well, that isn’t the easier feat and it was relatively hard to enjoy a phone call from Cindee. She probably wanted more money. He decided to just it let ring and let it sit on his leg. It rang again, anyway. “Shut up,” He yelled at the cell phone. “I don’t want to talk to you, you stupid, whor—Hey,” He cut himself off and answered the phone, his voice going from bitter harshness to a level of sweetness.
“Patrick,” Her high voice crackled through the phone. “I’m bored. And I want to go shopping tomorrow. I need money.”
“Okay, how much?” He listened to whine about shoes and accessories and nearly peed himself on the spot. “A thousand?!” Patrick’s forehead wrinkled, bringing his eye brows together. “What the hell do you need a thousand dollars to go shopping for?”
More high pitched whining.
“I don’t care if you need matching shoes, that’s crazy. I’m not giving you a thousand dollars so you can ‘un-bore’ yourself.”
“Cindee pouted over the phone. “You don’t love me!”
He ran over his face wanting to scream into the phone. “Yes, I do.—”
“NO, you don’t!” She cut him off.
“Yes—Troian—I do love—”
“TROIAN?!” She shrieked, threatening to leave Travie hard of hearing. “Did you just call me—“
On any other occasion Patrick might have tried to fix this and make Cindee feel better but he honestly didn’t care. She could rot in hell. “I—uh—Cindee, I’m tired. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you later.” He snapped the phone shut, cutting off her cries and pushed himself off the couch. “I hate girls!” He whined to Travie. The chair scraped loudly over the linoleum as he took a seat next to his friend.
“No you don’t. You just hate Cindee. And loooovve Troi.”
“Do not!”
“Do too!”
“Do NOT!”
“Yes huh! I heard you! Why else would you have accidentally called Cindee ‘Troian’? Hmm?” Travie grinned at Patrick expectantly as if he were some genius and Patrick opened his mouth, flustered.
“I—No—that was an accident!”
“LIES! You’re so in love with her! I don’t understand why you treat her like crap. That girl is read to take fuckin bullet for you dawg, and you just act like she’s trash.”
“I do not treat her like trash.”
“Patrick.” Travie turned so that he was fully squared with him and gave him a serious look. “I’m surprised she hasn’t left the country with the way you treat her.”
“Okay, you know what? I don’t need this.” Patrick pushed his chair back in and shot Travie a death glare. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
Travie just shook his head after him and went back to studying the cereal box. One day Patrick would learn.
“Do not…fucking trash…stupid…” Patrick was muttering so low under his breath anyone passing him by wouldn’t have been able to understand the small pieces of sentences he was getting out. This automatic response almost made him smile. It was something he had picked up from Troian. He was even using the same tone she often used when she angry and frustrated. He flopped on his bed and hugged a pillow to this chest.
It was funny how things always led back to Troian even when he tried to run them in the opposite direction. That girl was everywhere. Her scent was on his pillow, which would explain why he was holding it so close and her face was there when he shut his eyelids.
“I don’t love you!” He growled to himself. “I don’t.”
[Troian]
Now she was here, sitting in her living room stuck on deciding what if she wanted to take the next the two and a half free hours she had left to say goodbye to her friends or if she just wanted to get to the airport without anyone noticing. Sooner or later they would notice of course, but later was always better. Everyone would be pissed that she hadn’t said goodbye but they would get over it. Cali knew, of course, but no one else and that’s how she wanted it. Cali better have not told anyone.
She absently called the taxi services and arranged to be picked up. It was now or never. She texted Cali as she waited for her ride and sat back. It felt so odd to think she was going home when she knew this was her home. Or least she thought it had been.
One New Message
Fr: T-Star
So, see you in a few months?
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: Cali-love
=[ I guess. You know, you don’t have to go…You could just stay with me. I promise that douche would never come ten feet from you ever again.
Cb: 855 431 4309
Fr: T-Star
I can’t. I need to get outta here, Cali. Every second I stay here I feel like he’s laughing at me. Like he’s rolling his eyes and waiting for me to come crawling back and that I will not do.
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: Cali-love
-sigh- butbutbut I want you to stay. -pout- who will I talk to and love? Who will mother my children?
Cb: 903 431 4309
Fr: T-Star
Travie?
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: T-Star
Wait. You don’t have ANY children!
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: Cali-love
NOT the same and you know it.
Cb: 855 431 4309
Fr: Cali-love
Hey. Don’t crush my dreams. I will one day.
Cb: 855 431 4309
Fr: T-Star
Sorrrrrrrry. I Love you, wife!
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: Cali-love
LIES!
Cb: 855 431 4309
Fr: T-Star
-gasp- Never that!
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: Cali-love
Then why are you leaving me?
Cb: 855 431 4309
Fr: T-Star
Because I’m weak. And my taxi is here.
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: Cali-love
-dies a little- Text me when you get to the airport.
Cb: 855 431 4309
Fr: T-Star
Will do.
Cb: 855 676 9233
It was at that moment that she stepped out of her apartment that she knew she had to go through with this. She knew there was no other choice.
*
[Patrick]
The silence screamed back at him, accusing him of lies and he leaned back feeling defeated. “I don’t.” He whispered to himself but there was no avoiding the rush of emotions and scents and memories coming back to him. All at once, it was like she was next to him. He could practically hear her voice talking to him. It killed him on the inside.
He could see her. He could smell her. He could feel her arms around his waist as she hugged him. There was a slight possibility that he was going insane. Pieces of her kept flashing in his mind. Troian smiling. Troian laughing. Troian crying. Troian touching him; giving herself to him. Taking the pain because she wanted him happy. Troian shouting…then giving up. Troian’s face contorting into a mask of pain as the only person she had ever let herself get close to tore her down. Her expression as his words sunk in. In that instant he could feel a wrench of guilt go through him.
None of these images compared anyone else.
He couldn’t remember Cindee ever hugging him for no reason. There was no recollection of Cindee looking at him like he was everything. Telling him that she loved him.
It was at that moment that tears threatened to spill over his eyes. There was no one else who would ever do those things for him because there was no other Troian. It didn’t matter that wasn’t that good looking or as sexy as Pete. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t as suave as Travie or Gabe. It didn’t matter that he could be a complete asshole because she was always going to love him for him. He was sure that if he got into a wreck and lost both of his arms it wasn’t going to be Cindee at his at the hospital bed; it was going to be Troian. It didn’t matter if he was flat broke and never made another CD again, it would be Troian there, not Cindee.
Troian.
“Troi,” He whispered the name to himself in what was almost wonderment.
Like dawn breaking the sky, the realization hit him. It was like a ton of brick to the body. Nothing really matter except for him to be with her. She loved him. Love. The word was almost foreign to him and yet it seemed to fit with her image. It all made so much sense and he didn’t why it had taken him so long.
He didn’t know crap about love but he was absolutely sure about two things.
One, he had fucked up. Bad.
And two, he was irrevocably in love.
“TRAAAAAAAVIIIIIEEEEE!” Patrick leaped from his bed, clearing ten feet and burst through his beddoor to the kitchen. “Travie!” He panted from the doorway, “Travie I fucked up,” Huff. “So bad, but I love her.” Huff. He leaned against a chair, his eyes excited, his hat disheveled from his enlightenment.
Travie raised an eyebrow. “Um. Sure. Yeah, dude…”
Patrick waved a hand of dismissal to Travie’s nonsense. “Hush puppy!” and Travie burst into a fit of giggles. “Troian says that!”
“I know!” Patrick sat down excitedly. “Dude,” He got back up from his fresh seat. “How did I see it? I don't understand. What the hell was wrong with me?" He groaned. "Why didn't you slap some sense into me?"
"Well, I..."
"I should go talk to her! No, I should buy her something! No! Yes! I don’t know! I’ll just call her!”
“Uh, Patrick…”
“I don’t know, obviously first I have to apologize…”
“Patrick…”
“I’m going to call her!” He scattered out of the kitchen before Travie could say anything back. “Phone, phone, phone,” He moved frantically, checking and rechecking his pockets for his missing phone and pulled at his hair. “Fuck! Where’s my phone?”
“Check the couch!” Travie called and Patrick dove for the furniture. Sure enough, there it was.
His fingers dialed the all too familiar numbers with ease and he sighed in impatience.
It rang. And rang…and r—
“Patrick.” Travie emerged into the living room looking grim.
And rang…
Patrick shot Travie a discouraging look. “She’s not answering.”
“She’s going to Texas.”
“Its rang lik—WHAT?” The cell phone almost slipped in Patrick’s grasp and his eyes went wide. “Texas?” He swallowed; his mouth dry.
“She’s leaving. Like. In an hour and a half.
“And you DIDN’T TELL ME?”
“I tried…”
Patrick stood motionless for a second. His blank stare set a wave of worry through Travie.
“Trick?”
Patrick mashed his lips together and looked up. He looked like he was pondering something.
“Patrick?”
“I gotta stop her.”
*
“Drive faster!”
“I’m driving as fast as I can!”
Patrick bit his lips and struggled uncomfortably in his seat. Couldn’t this car go any faster? He pressed his foot into to the floor of the car knowing it wasn’t going to make it go any faster. “Right here, right here! Take this exit!”
“I know how to get to Midway, yo.”
“Please let her be there. Fuck! Please let her be th---”
“Ey, man, chill out! Just chill. She’ll be there.” There wasn’t much Travis could say to friend. He was racking his brain but Patrick was making it hard for Travis to keep him calm. He kept glancing at his cell phone and checking the time as if the end of the world was coming.
“You know, time isn’t going to slow no matter how much you stare at your cell phone.”
“Her plane leaves in an hour and three minutes!”
“Stop counting time!”
Patrick slumped in his seat. “I can’t do this. She’s going to say no. She’s going to leave to Texas.”
“No she won’t,” Travie sighed.
“She will,” He mumbled, staring at his phone again.
*
Patrick didn’t even let Travie completely stop the car before he was unbuckling his seatbelt and jumping out of the car. He was thirsty feet ahead away before Travie locked the car and turned to meet him. He caught the sight of Patrick sprinting and groaned. “I hate running. You fucking owe me, Stump.” He started after Patrick.
Patrick scrambled throughout the crowds of people, muttering apologies. “Sorry! Sorry!” He pushed through a group of people and in front of a cart carrying baggage. “Whoa. My bad!”
“Slow down!” Travie hissed, trying to desperately catch up.
“I don’t see it…” Eyes squinting, nerves on end, Patrick reached the electronic schedules. “I don’t see it!” He repeated anxiously, re reading the names. He tugged at a strand of his hair and Travie came up beside him, out of breath. “Me neither.”
“It supposed to be there! Texas at 6:10.”
“Call Calista, she’ll know.”
He didn’t want to, but he knew he had to. He just hoped that Cali was going to actually let him speak before hanging up on him. It had already four times and Patrick was about to give up when someone answered the phone. “What?” Cali greeted him.
“Don’t hang up!”
Cali almost rolled her eyes but the sense of urgency in Patrick’s voice made her stop.
“Okay. What do you want?”
“Where is she?” Patrick whined, looking around. “I thought she was leaving to Texas at 6:10.”
“She is. Her info is written down, right here,” she told him, reading from the pad on the counter. “O’Hare. Texas. 6:10.”
Patrick’s body went stiff. The color drained from his cheeks and he felt like either the world might fall on him or he might throw up….or both.
“Why?” Cali asked. “Where are you?”
“Patrick struggled to breath. “I’m at Midway.”
**
Yay, my first foot notes!
*Gone with the Wind
**The princess bride
You like? Lemme know….pleeeeeease.
Teehee. I’m sorry. I know that was a mean thing to do to Patrick but I had to.
Oh since we're having fun, tell me, what's your favorite part about my Fic?(:
Calista took a step toward the capped boy. “You have exactly four point fifty seconds to explain why she looked like she was going to jump off a bridge.” Anyone who knew Cali knew that when she started giving you exact time spans it wasn’t a good idea to waste them because she wasn’t that big on second chances.
Patrick bit his lip and did his shrug thing that annoyed everyone. What was he supposed to say? ‘Sorry. I told her she wasn’t pretty and that I really only wanted to use her’? Yeah, that would go over well. “Hell if I know, she’s always on about something.”
Cali took another step forward. Christ, this girl could be so menacing. “Two point thirty seconds,” She warned him.
Patrick glared at her and threw his hands up. “How do you even know that?! Who the hell keeps track of nano-seconds?”
She didn’t bother to answer him, she just picked up the nearest picture frame and aimed it him. “What did you do to her?” If there was anyone who held the possibility of having mind powers, it was Calista. She always seemed to know exactly what people wanted or what they were thinking. Then there was the whole being close to Troian. That made it kind of hard to miss the emotion she was harboring as she ran out the door.
“I didn’t do shit! She’s always over reacting! Honestly. Why the fuck do you always blame me anyway?” Shame was crawling up over his color to coat him face. He couldn’t hide it. “You do realize she had issues, right?”
“Because you ALWAYS do something to her. Ever since she met you, her life had been hell. Pete’s gonna have a hell of a time trying to find a new singer if you don’t spill, right now.” Patrick didn’t know Calista that well, but he knew her well enough to piss her off and to not underestimate her threats.
“You know what?” Patrick pressed his lips together and took a deep, calming breath, “I’m not doing this right now. I’ll be back later.” If he could just make it to the door…He took a step forward and a loud crash echoed through the room as the picture frame Cali had been holding shattered against the wall in the spot Patrick’s head had been only two seconds ago.
“The fuck you are.”
His jaw dropped. “You do realize that that’s not funny and you could have hit me, right? You missed my face by like an inch!”
Travie ran a hand over his face. He was still as high as a kite but even his common sense was running better at the moment.
“Half an inch. I have good aim; that was just a warning.” Cali took off her heel, Mexican style. And pointed it at him. “If you don’t fix that,” She point at the door, “and make her happy again, I’m going to mess you up good.”
Patrick looked up at the ceiling and sighed. He raised his arms and dropped them to his side. “Dude, seriously. Come on. Tell her to get over herself. What does she think? That life is going to have a happy ending?”
Cali resisted the urge to deck him and closed her eyes. “Travie?” She retreated to him and pecked him on the lips. “I’m going to go find Troian. Check your boy.” She threw a glare at Patrick over her shoulder. “Before I do.”
*
She had made it a good block when a familiar voice, accompanied by the roar of Calista’s car revved up behind her. There was no point in running, she was caught. So she turned around and unwilling made her way up to the driver’s window. Cali had this expecting look across her face and all Troian could do was shrug. She wasn’t going to say anything but then she figured she might as well, because Cali was going to ask. “Life’s not a fairy tale. Apparently looks are everything and all a girl like me can get is whatever someone decides to offer me.”
“Get in,” Cali sighed. “We’ll talk on the way home. You look beat and it looks like its bout ready to rain.”
Troian obeyed without a complaint and trudged around the car to the passenger side. She didn’t bother initiating a conversation, she just stared ahead. Cali glanced over at her before putting the car in gear and driving. Normally, she would have known what to say but she had to admit she felt a little guilty. Not a lot, it wasn’t her fault, but a little since she had convinced her friend to go to Travie’s in the first place.
Silence settled over the car except for the hum of the car running. Time magnified it and with every second the hum sounded more like a roar to Troian. Like the roar of the beast in her stomach, threatening to spill her tears. Up until this point she was good. She was solid as a rock. Up until Cali had stopped at a red light at looked over at her she was good. Up until she reminded herself that Patrick was only using her and then it kinda sucked.
After that it was all downhill and there was nothing she could do about it. Tears leaked from her eyelids no matter how tightly she squeezed them shut and tried push out the reminder that to him she was just another fuck. To Patrick she was just another girl to hit and quit and the fact that he had been her first meant absolutely nothing to him. She hadn’t even enjoyed her first time.
It was strange for her. She had always been the one her cousins teased because she wasn’t having sex until she found the right one. She had always the one that they made fun of, giggled at and rolled their eyes at. She had hated being that girl. But she hadn’t minded being the one who was sure of herself. She had been okay with believing her mom when she told her ‘Your time will come, mija’ and know she wasn’t so sure. It seemed quite obvious to her now that her time would never come. She didn’t have any time. Or rather the world had no time for her.
“So…you gonna tell me what he said?”
Troian ripped herself from her thoughts and stared a lifeless stare at her friend. This was beyond what she had felt the past week. This pain was so much worse and yet it was so much better. She almost relished the feeling of being numb. Almost.
At least now she didn’t have to think about the ‘what ifs’ and the ‘maybes.’ There’s was nothing to wonder about anymore; if she wanted a free fuck then evidently she was more than welcome and if she wanted to feel like she mattered then she could fuck off.
“Nothing. He just talked and I listened and in the end we agreed that I wasn’t the person for him and that was all.”
No more drama. None. She refused to let herself get into anything else. She was so through with all of this love crap. Patrick was right; it most certainly did not exist. She wasn’t even going to bother telling Cali what he said because it really didn’t make a difference.
“You’re lying again,” Cali stated rather then asked. “Why do you feel the need to cover things up with me? I promise I won’t laugh. I won’t think any less of you. Just tell me what did to you. I hate it when you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“That’s it,” Troian sighed.
“Troian.”
“NOTHING!” The words reverberated in the car and left them both quiet. She took a breath to calm her heavy breathing and just leaned against the door, the dark scenery passing her by. She hadn’t meant to do that.
Troian bit her lip in frustration. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking straight ahead. “I just need time to think…I need to go home and calm down.” She sighed after a moment. “I think I should go to Texas.”
*
*
[The next day]
Sunlight poured through the open window, filling the living room an intensity of brightness. Too bright in Troian’s opinion. After last night everything had taken on another twenty ounces of happiness and she didn’t like it one bit. She felt as though the people she passed, the things she heard; just everything was made to remind her how lonely she was. It had all taken on an effect of sugary sweetness that she couldn’t seem to taste. She felt like everyone, even the people in the radio, the characters on TV were mocking her. Laughing at her.
She moved slowly, deliberately as she packed her bags. There was no enthusiasm as she gave the apartment one last clean sweep and made all the beds. She found no enjoyment in trying to decide what she was going to take with her and what she would come back to later. Whatever was most important she would stuff in her bags and the rest she would come back another day and retrieve. Without things thrown on the floor and her clothes no longer in her closet, the apartment looked bare. Pete was still out and about with his family so there was basically no one to have to clean after or cook for and that was just fine. But, you can only stretch out cleaning for so long. Then your mind is free to think about nonsense and things you can’t handle. It all just comes rushing back. An idle mind, after all, is the Devil’s playground.
*
[Patrick]
Ten minutes away Patrick let out a breath of exasperation as he slung himself over Travie’s couch and glared at the ceiling.
Who cares anyway? Get a hold of yourself, Stump. She wasn’t even pretty! Psh. She did nothing for you. Fucking her wasn’t even that…amazing…
“UGH!” Patrick groaned. He grabbed the magazine on the coffee table and smacked his forehead with it. “Get out of my head!” He commanded his thoughts. She wasn’t, He repeated mentally. She sucked. She was fucking pitiful! Yes! And she wasn’t skinny! Or Or pretty! And she was always sitting there all shy and quiet! Why couldn’t she be more…like Cindee! Why did she have to be so…so…adorable and thoughtful…and smart…? “NO!” Patrick snatched up the remote and turned the T.V on. He wasn’t going to think of this right now. He wasn’t going to think of her. He refused to let HER break him and hurt him or use him. Sure, she looked harmless….but they all did. And something about being with Troian made him feel vulnerable. Like he might fall off a cliff any second. What if she didn’t catch him? If you don’t give your heart to anyone then you can’t get it handed back to you in tiny incoherent pieces.
These thoughts made his stomach churn. Hence he turned on the TV. And of course, of all the stupid movies to come on it had to be Romeo and Juliet. WHY did it have to be Romeo and Juliet? He made a look of disgust. Click. A picture of black and white filled the screen. The man held the woman close. *‘Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn…’ Patrick pounded the mute button. “Where the hell do you get these channels?” He yelled into the kitchen where Travie was eating a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles.
“Ioknowe,” Travie called back, spoon in his mouth, eyes concentrating hard on the back of the box.
“Stupid,” He muttered and flipped through the channels. “This is stupid.”
Click.
“The fuck. Lifetime?” He rolled his eyes and turned around in his seat. “Seriously, Travie! Lifetime?”
“Shut up you stupid, short, whitest kid I know!”
“I am not that...short…” Patrick growled and turned back around. Click. “Ah, here we go,” Patrick sat back in relief as the boy on TV tumbled down a hill. Some action, right there. It was all good until he realized the guy on the screen was shouting **As you wish!’ and this was no action movie. “FUCK!” Patrick switched off the TV and slung the remote across the room. It hit the wall loudly and clattered to the floor. “I hate your TV, Travie!”
“Uhuh,” Travie called back absently; still focused on getting through the cereal maze.
Patrick leaned back and re took his earlier position, this time burying his face in the sofa. Maybe he could smother himself to death. Before he could get to work on that, his phone vibrated between his pocket and the couch. His first reaction was Troian! Then as expected, he gathered his pride and checked it, trying to make himself happy that it was Cindee calling him. But well, that isn’t the easier feat and it was relatively hard to enjoy a phone call from Cindee. She probably wanted more money. He decided to just it let ring and let it sit on his leg. It rang again, anyway. “Shut up,” He yelled at the cell phone. “I don’t want to talk to you, you stupid, whor—Hey,” He cut himself off and answered the phone, his voice going from bitter harshness to a level of sweetness.
“Patrick,” Her high voice crackled through the phone. “I’m bored. And I want to go shopping tomorrow. I need money.”
“Okay, how much?” He listened to whine about shoes and accessories and nearly peed himself on the spot. “A thousand?!” Patrick’s forehead wrinkled, bringing his eye brows together. “What the hell do you need a thousand dollars to go shopping for?”
More high pitched whining.
“I don’t care if you need matching shoes, that’s crazy. I’m not giving you a thousand dollars so you can ‘un-bore’ yourself.”
“Cindee pouted over the phone. “You don’t love me!”
He ran over his face wanting to scream into the phone. “Yes, I do.—”
“NO, you don’t!” She cut him off.
“Yes—Troian—I do love—”
“TROIAN?!” She shrieked, threatening to leave Travie hard of hearing. “Did you just call me—“
On any other occasion Patrick might have tried to fix this and make Cindee feel better but he honestly didn’t care. She could rot in hell. “I—uh—Cindee, I’m tired. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you later.” He snapped the phone shut, cutting off her cries and pushed himself off the couch. “I hate girls!” He whined to Travie. The chair scraped loudly over the linoleum as he took a seat next to his friend.
“No you don’t. You just hate Cindee. And loooovve Troi.”
“Do not!”
“Do too!”
“Do NOT!”
“Yes huh! I heard you! Why else would you have accidentally called Cindee ‘Troian’? Hmm?” Travie grinned at Patrick expectantly as if he were some genius and Patrick opened his mouth, flustered.
“I—No—that was an accident!”
“LIES! You’re so in love with her! I don’t understand why you treat her like crap. That girl is read to take fuckin bullet for you dawg, and you just act like she’s trash.”
“I do not treat her like trash.”
“Patrick.” Travie turned so that he was fully squared with him and gave him a serious look. “I’m surprised she hasn’t left the country with the way you treat her.”
“Okay, you know what? I don’t need this.” Patrick pushed his chair back in and shot Travie a death glare. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
Travie just shook his head after him and went back to studying the cereal box. One day Patrick would learn.
“Do not…fucking trash…stupid…” Patrick was muttering so low under his breath anyone passing him by wouldn’t have been able to understand the small pieces of sentences he was getting out. This automatic response almost made him smile. It was something he had picked up from Troian. He was even using the same tone she often used when she angry and frustrated. He flopped on his bed and hugged a pillow to this chest.
It was funny how things always led back to Troian even when he tried to run them in the opposite direction. That girl was everywhere. Her scent was on his pillow, which would explain why he was holding it so close and her face was there when he shut his eyelids.
“I don’t love you!” He growled to himself. “I don’t.”
[Troian]
Now she was here, sitting in her living room stuck on deciding what if she wanted to take the next the two and a half free hours she had left to say goodbye to her friends or if she just wanted to get to the airport without anyone noticing. Sooner or later they would notice of course, but later was always better. Everyone would be pissed that she hadn’t said goodbye but they would get over it. Cali knew, of course, but no one else and that’s how she wanted it. Cali better have not told anyone.
She absently called the taxi services and arranged to be picked up. It was now or never. She texted Cali as she waited for her ride and sat back. It felt so odd to think she was going home when she knew this was her home. Or least she thought it had been.
One New Message
Fr: T-Star
So, see you in a few months?
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: Cali-love
=[ I guess. You know, you don’t have to go…You could just stay with me. I promise that douche would never come ten feet from you ever again.
Cb: 855 431 4309
Fr: T-Star
I can’t. I need to get outta here, Cali. Every second I stay here I feel like he’s laughing at me. Like he’s rolling his eyes and waiting for me to come crawling back and that I will not do.
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: Cali-love
-sigh- butbutbut I want you to stay. -pout- who will I talk to and love? Who will mother my children?
Cb: 903 431 4309
Fr: T-Star
Travie?
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: T-Star
Wait. You don’t have ANY children!
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: Cali-love
NOT the same and you know it.
Cb: 855 431 4309
Fr: Cali-love
Hey. Don’t crush my dreams. I will one day.
Cb: 855 431 4309
Fr: T-Star
Sorrrrrrrry. I Love you, wife!
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: Cali-love
LIES!
Cb: 855 431 4309
Fr: T-Star
-gasp- Never that!
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: Cali-love
Then why are you leaving me?
Cb: 855 431 4309
Fr: T-Star
Because I’m weak. And my taxi is here.
Cb: 855 676 9233
Fr: Cali-love
-dies a little- Text me when you get to the airport.
Cb: 855 431 4309
Fr: T-Star
Will do.
Cb: 855 676 9233
It was at that moment that she stepped out of her apartment that she knew she had to go through with this. She knew there was no other choice.
*
[Patrick]
The silence screamed back at him, accusing him of lies and he leaned back feeling defeated. “I don’t.” He whispered to himself but there was no avoiding the rush of emotions and scents and memories coming back to him. All at once, it was like she was next to him. He could practically hear her voice talking to him. It killed him on the inside.
He could see her. He could smell her. He could feel her arms around his waist as she hugged him. There was a slight possibility that he was going insane. Pieces of her kept flashing in his mind. Troian smiling. Troian laughing. Troian crying. Troian touching him; giving herself to him. Taking the pain because she wanted him happy. Troian shouting…then giving up. Troian’s face contorting into a mask of pain as the only person she had ever let herself get close to tore her down. Her expression as his words sunk in. In that instant he could feel a wrench of guilt go through him.
None of these images compared anyone else.
He couldn’t remember Cindee ever hugging him for no reason. There was no recollection of Cindee looking at him like he was everything. Telling him that she loved him.
It was at that moment that tears threatened to spill over his eyes. There was no one else who would ever do those things for him because there was no other Troian. It didn’t matter that wasn’t that good looking or as sexy as Pete. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t as suave as Travie or Gabe. It didn’t matter that he could be a complete asshole because she was always going to love him for him. He was sure that if he got into a wreck and lost both of his arms it wasn’t going to be Cindee at his at the hospital bed; it was going to be Troian. It didn’t matter if he was flat broke and never made another CD again, it would be Troian there, not Cindee.
Troian.
“Troi,” He whispered the name to himself in what was almost wonderment.
Like dawn breaking the sky, the realization hit him. It was like a ton of brick to the body. Nothing really matter except for him to be with her. She loved him. Love. The word was almost foreign to him and yet it seemed to fit with her image. It all made so much sense and he didn’t why it had taken him so long.
He didn’t know crap about love but he was absolutely sure about two things.
One, he had fucked up. Bad.
And two, he was irrevocably in love.
“TRAAAAAAAVIIIIIEEEEE!” Patrick leaped from his bed, clearing ten feet and burst through his beddoor to the kitchen. “Travie!” He panted from the doorway, “Travie I fucked up,” Huff. “So bad, but I love her.” Huff. He leaned against a chair, his eyes excited, his hat disheveled from his enlightenment.
Travie raised an eyebrow. “Um. Sure. Yeah, dude…”
Patrick waved a hand of dismissal to Travie’s nonsense. “Hush puppy!” and Travie burst into a fit of giggles. “Troian says that!”
“I know!” Patrick sat down excitedly. “Dude,” He got back up from his fresh seat. “How did I see it? I don't understand. What the hell was wrong with me?" He groaned. "Why didn't you slap some sense into me?"
"Well, I..."
"I should go talk to her! No, I should buy her something! No! Yes! I don’t know! I’ll just call her!”
“Uh, Patrick…”
“I don’t know, obviously first I have to apologize…”
“Patrick…”
“I’m going to call her!” He scattered out of the kitchen before Travie could say anything back. “Phone, phone, phone,” He moved frantically, checking and rechecking his pockets for his missing phone and pulled at his hair. “Fuck! Where’s my phone?”
“Check the couch!” Travie called and Patrick dove for the furniture. Sure enough, there it was.
His fingers dialed the all too familiar numbers with ease and he sighed in impatience.
It rang. And rang…and r—
“Patrick.” Travie emerged into the living room looking grim.
And rang…
Patrick shot Travie a discouraging look. “She’s not answering.”
“She’s going to Texas.”
“Its rang lik—WHAT?” The cell phone almost slipped in Patrick’s grasp and his eyes went wide. “Texas?” He swallowed; his mouth dry.
“She’s leaving. Like. In an hour and a half.
“And you DIDN’T TELL ME?”
“I tried…”
Patrick stood motionless for a second. His blank stare set a wave of worry through Travie.
“Trick?”
Patrick mashed his lips together and looked up. He looked like he was pondering something.
“Patrick?”
“I gotta stop her.”
*
“Drive faster!”
“I’m driving as fast as I can!”
Patrick bit his lips and struggled uncomfortably in his seat. Couldn’t this car go any faster? He pressed his foot into to the floor of the car knowing it wasn’t going to make it go any faster. “Right here, right here! Take this exit!”
“I know how to get to Midway, yo.”
“Please let her be there. Fuck! Please let her be th---”
“Ey, man, chill out! Just chill. She’ll be there.” There wasn’t much Travis could say to friend. He was racking his brain but Patrick was making it hard for Travis to keep him calm. He kept glancing at his cell phone and checking the time as if the end of the world was coming.
“You know, time isn’t going to slow no matter how much you stare at your cell phone.”
“Her plane leaves in an hour and three minutes!”
“Stop counting time!”
Patrick slumped in his seat. “I can’t do this. She’s going to say no. She’s going to leave to Texas.”
“No she won’t,” Travie sighed.
“She will,” He mumbled, staring at his phone again.
*
Patrick didn’t even let Travie completely stop the car before he was unbuckling his seatbelt and jumping out of the car. He was thirsty feet ahead away before Travie locked the car and turned to meet him. He caught the sight of Patrick sprinting and groaned. “I hate running. You fucking owe me, Stump.” He started after Patrick.
Patrick scrambled throughout the crowds of people, muttering apologies. “Sorry! Sorry!” He pushed through a group of people and in front of a cart carrying baggage. “Whoa. My bad!”
“Slow down!” Travie hissed, trying to desperately catch up.
“I don’t see it…” Eyes squinting, nerves on end, Patrick reached the electronic schedules. “I don’t see it!” He repeated anxiously, re reading the names. He tugged at a strand of his hair and Travie came up beside him, out of breath. “Me neither.”
“It supposed to be there! Texas at 6:10.”
“Call Calista, she’ll know.”
He didn’t want to, but he knew he had to. He just hoped that Cali was going to actually let him speak before hanging up on him. It had already four times and Patrick was about to give up when someone answered the phone. “What?” Cali greeted him.
“Don’t hang up!”
Cali almost rolled her eyes but the sense of urgency in Patrick’s voice made her stop.
“Okay. What do you want?”
“Where is she?” Patrick whined, looking around. “I thought she was leaving to Texas at 6:10.”
“She is. Her info is written down, right here,” she told him, reading from the pad on the counter. “O’Hare. Texas. 6:10.”
Patrick’s body went stiff. The color drained from his cheeks and he felt like either the world might fall on him or he might throw up….or both.
“Why?” Cali asked. “Where are you?”
“Patrick struggled to breath. “I’m at Midway.”
**
Yay, my first foot notes!
*Gone with the Wind
**The princess bride
You like? Lemme know….pleeeeeease.
Teehee. I’m sorry. I know that was a mean thing to do to Patrick but I had to.
Oh since we're having fun, tell me, what's your favorite part about my Fic?(:
Sign up to rate and review this story