WAIT FOR IT.

“so you think i’ll be nicer because you put on a little makeup and a short dress?”

     “no, i think you’ll be nicer because i’m nice and i’m telling you that if you’re not nice it’ll hurt my feelings.”

“why’d you have to fight at all? there’s other ways to solve conflict.” not that emma ever directly involves herself in a conflict, so she’s not one to talk— but she knows busting someone’s lip isn’t the way. “ones that won’t get you suspended.”

     sure there are, but rosie has found that nothing’s quite as effective at putting an end to conflict as her father’s long list of titles weighing heavily on her name and a bruised fist. she shrugs noncommittally, gaze skirting away from emma’s in a blatant showing of childish pride.  “won’t get suspended. told her if she told anyone i’d hit her again.”

fingers descend to tap at her lips, stress weaving a familiar aura around her thin frame as she watches him work on getting himself ready. “splendid. we should hand her a medal.”

     “yeah, maybe.”  it’s an absent sort of tone as he ties his laces, palms brushing themselves free of dust and dirt as he leans back in his chair, finally turning his gaze on her.  “it’s easy. you just gotta sit there and nod. kinda hard to fuck up.”

“you should never say no to me, wyatt. it’s a bad idea.”

     “is that a threat?”

“anyone ever tell you nothing you do is NICE?” she shuffles through lingerie and pajama pants, trying to see if any of her makeup’s spilled out into the bottom of the suitcase— the reality is that wyatt could draw out a better blush than anything from the drugstore shelves. “i’m not lookin’ for clothes. maybe this would go faster if you’d get down here and help.”

      “anyone ever tell you that you’re a real brat?”  he’s plucked his snapback off of his blonde head as he shifts on the bed, abandoning it on his chest for the moment as he sprawls on his back, an arm thrown across his eyes.  “listen, lydia, do what you want.”  his tone implies that doing so would be at her own risk but wyatt expects her to take his words at face value regardless, wandering around the suite without a care in the world.  “just hurry up.”

“you sure? ‘cause i’ve got so many bills to pay, i’m fuuuuuuucked up.”

     “right. –––––– and i’m sympathetic to that, i am, but i’m still not your daddy.”

“what are you, five? it’s not a date, i’m not kissing you good night at the door. face it.”

     “it’s TOTALLY a date. don’t be mean, you’ll hurt my feelings.”

zen. she’s zen. completely zen, absolutely and totally zen. “— i’m going to explode.”

     “i haven’t even kissed you yet, slow down.”

her hand skims a gentle path on rosie’s cheekbone before withdrawing. “i don’t like this.”

     she leans into the touch automatically, brow furrowing at her own lack of self control and at the flickering of regret  ( no, not regret –– SHAME, maybe )  that emma’s words prompts.  “it’s fine, ems. it’s not like i knocked her out.”

“you started talking, i just checked out your ass. not my fault.”

     “that’s basically the DEFINITION of your fault.”

“i don’t know. aren’t you supposed to tell me that? whatever you’ve got. — look, relax. i’m not going to turn you in, okay? this is a really big deal for me, i don’t want to mess it up.”

     “fine, look ––– are you buying for yourself or someone else?”

“you can’t think like that, cariño. flash me a little smile. i know you’ve got it in you.”

     “you shouldn’t play with your food, gaby. it’s undignified.”

“are you dead? then no, you can’t be.” her tone is far too light and casual as she kneels to dig through a suitcase— no, not for clothes. she must have left her cheek stain somewhere amidst the chaos. “an’ if you’re sayin’ that you can fuck me but it’s inappropriate to look at me naked, then you’re dumb.” A FINE INSULT RESERVED FOR THE HIGHER CLASSES.

     it’s something of a jarring admission and wyatt isn’t quite sure how to take her unabashed honesty; for the moment, he keeps his eyes on the ceiling fan’s steady spinning, hands folded atop his abdomen.  “anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to call people DUMB, lydia?”  as if he cares.  “maybe you can dig some manners out of that suitcase while you find your clothes.”

“i’m happy alone.” LIE. they’re both good at it but he’s got the advantage on this one. “and if you’re saying that you’re in love with me, i don’t know what to say. get in line.”

     “PLEASE. been there, done that, immortalized it on instagram. we’ve moved past that,”  UNFORTUNATELY.  “listen, i know you can afford the premium subscription on pornhub but that doesn’t mean you should have to pay for it. we both know i could find you someone really good.”

“when you’ve got a kid playing fuck bitches get money in the other room, i’m not surprised that it rubs off on the others.” a hand flies to her mouth as if to rewind any and all of the profanity, APPALLED. “i didn’t mean to say that.”

     he pauses, dusty shoelaces wrapped around thick fingers and amusement dancing in bloodshot eyes.  “in fairness, she didn’t fuck a bitch. that’s something.”

“daisy. stay out of this.”

     “see, i’d love to,”  LIE.  “––– but the thing is you’ve gone and, like, ENDEARED YOURSELF to me and now i’m stuck in this shitty situation where i actually care if you die alone and let me tell you it’s a real pain in the ass but listen. you let me do this for you and then i can rest easy knowing your body will be found by your super-successful-but-also-like-super-respectful-of-your-work-and-of-making-sure-you-take-time-for-yourself husband and not maid service. you deserve that.”

“if you’d let me talk to her first there wouldn’t have been a punch. — i’m not going.”

     “how the fuck am i supposed to know when she’s gonna decide to play streetfighter on the playground? you take that up with her.”