“Speak for yourself,” Dino mutters. “I’m only here because I have to.”
“And nobody would have shed a tear had you never made it,” Rosalie smiles.
“Not everyone can be as popular as you, Rosie. I’m sure our football team would inconsolable if you weren’t there to-”
“Dino,” his uncle cuts him off. “Manners,” he says, the warning clear in his voice.
Dino frowns. Why does he have to sit so close to the bitch anyway? Why does he even have to be here?
“Rosalie,” Mr. Trupiano says. “We talked about this.”
Dino rolls his eyes. That woman is unbearable. He gets up. “I need to take a piss. Where’s the bathroom?”
__________________________________
“I’m sorry for my nephew’s behavior,” Mr. Schibetta sighs as Dino leaves the room. “He’s at a difficult age,” He pauses. “Very difficult.”
Mr. Trupiano laughs. “You know what they say, boys will be boys and all… Some longer than others, I guess.”
Gintare leans back. The air seems tense but honestly… what does she care? Rosalie is eyeing Dino’s cousin while sipping on a glass of wine, her expression unreadable. Her mother looks like someone just pissed on her plate and Mrs. Schibetta… man, does she look like shit. Cancer and all, what a bummer.
This might be the lamest date she has ever had with Dino. God, what she does for that guy…
She looks at the clock. Either Dino has gotten lost in that big-ass house or he’s not taking a piss. She gets up. That leaves three possibilities. Number one, diarrhea. Number two, he’s waiting for her to come after him so they can fuck. Number three, that asshole is trying to get out of this dinner and is ready to just leave her here. All three make going after him a preferable option to staying with these lameasses.
“I think I’m going to see if Dino is alright.”
Mrs. Trupiano raises her eyebrows, as if she wants an extra explanation. Fuck that.
_______________________________________
Dino sits down. And he thought the giant tank in the bathroom was impressive… This tank is huge, like he imagined the Aquarium to have that his class took a trip to in third grade. Fucking teachers refused to take him with them and Maria? Just laughed her ass off.
This is less than a living room - doesn’t even have a tv - than a giant tank with some sofas next to it to watch it. Looks like out of a movie, the light illuminating the corals and plants and the small and big colourful fish dancing around them.
Someone seems to have one expensive hobby here. He dimly wonders if they have a sharktank in the cellar where they dispose off their enemies. He shudders. Or a crocodile pond in the garden.
These people are so loaded. Between his backdoor clinic and her witch business… so why do they want to join their family anyway? He got lost on his way to the guest bathroom and lost again on his way back! This house is almost as big as his grandfather’s mansion, for fucks sake!
Of course. Grandpa. Maybe the old fuck wants this union as much as greedy Trupiano. Both assholes who can never have enough money.
This is so unfair, why does the old fuck have so much power over them? Why does his cousin have to pay with his life for it?
And why does Petey go along with it? He really that desperate for pussy?
For his father’s approval?
He slips off the couch, next to the tank. A small, orange fish with white and black stripes swims up to him.
In a way, they are a lot like these fish, his cousin and Dino. Their freedom restricted by the walls their family sets up and they only see it when they bump into one.
Like now. He sighs. He was pissed at his cousin for how he talked to his girl, pissed how he goes along with everything, pissed at having to deal with Rosalie, that bitch… He forgot about Aunt Angie. Fuck, he embarrassed her, too.
He rests his forehead on the cool glass. Him and his stupid decisions.
“Wow, someone really likes fish…”
Gintare? He turns his head. There she is, her eyes following a school of colourful, small fish.
“That’s the third one I’ve come across so far.”
“He has got one in the bathroom, too.” Dino supplies. “I thought about pissing in there but then again, it’s not really the guppies’ fault they’re owned by a bunch of jerks.
Gintare snorts as she sits down next to him. Her hair tickles his nose when she rests her head against him.
For a few moments they watch the fish in silence.
"Kinda romantic, isn’t it?” she whispers. He nods. This is nice.
“You look beautiful in that light.” He kisses her ear, soft and light. Her hair smells good. Fruity.
“So…” She giggles and slips her hand down his pants. “You wanna fuck?”
How could he say ‘no’ to that?
Peter can’t stop a frown from spawning in response to his cousin’s comments regarding his - what was he calling her now - his girlfriend? Yeah! His girlfriend! Who did that fucking guy think he was? If Peter was a little taller, a little stronger...maybe even a little braver, he’d have shot Dino down right there and then but instead, the teen sits in his own anger.
His eyebrows narrow and the gaze beneath them finds itself locked onto his glass of red wine - his father says something, her father says something and Dino’s gone before Peter can even comfort Rosalie with a compliment. Hell, she doesn’t look like she gives a shit at all. She swirls her glass before taking a long sip, the corners of her lips curling as the wine reddens them.
He catches her eyes with his own and the smile beneath her glass extends. There’s something both enticing and intimidating about the lady before him. Like a black widow, the attraction is toxic - though he’s far too young to understand entirely why that is. For him, it’s a girl. A beautiful girl with a powerful family, his father’s approval and something special. What was there to be unsure of?
...but then Dino doesn’t like her. He never has and probably never will and the fact of the matter is that Peter has always looked to his cousin for life’s questions. Although Dino may not be a poster boy for reason - his opinion matters more than he thinks, especially for the impressionable teen neath his shadow.
Peter sinks into his seat, pulling his eyes from her and instead toward the waiters arriving with plates upon plates of food.
“Like whatcha see?” Rosalie smirks at her dish, her eyebrow cocking as she notices Peter looking wide-eyed around the room. Both sets of parents shoot them a glance before he shuffles out of his seat.
“I - I should go tell Dino that the foods here-” he half-laughs, his skin crawling as he gently pushes himself free of the waiters and plates incoming. He can feel his father’s eyes piercing from the table; without even looking, he can tell that the man’s disappointed. It’d hurt if he wasn’t so used to it.
Free of the dining room, he has a moment to catch his breath before exploring the halls for his cousin.
“Where the fuck-” he whispers beneath his breath; for all he knows, Dino’s fucking left already.
Peter makes his way up the stairs, he could have sworn that he’d heard his cousin going that way...or at least, heels, going that way. Gintare probably and like a tramp on chips, she’d follow Dino where-ever he went. Strangely enough, the teen feels himself green with envy - why wasn’t Rosalie acting like that? Would she eventually? He has to wonder...just as he does the halls of her house.
One room he does recognise almost immediately is her bedroom. Yeesh. The room he’d lost his virginity in - his envy quickly turns to pride as he basks in his sin. What a night.
With a smile creeping across his lips, he edges the door to the bedroom slightly ajar before creeping in. It’s as pristine as he remembers, as stylish and rich - as expensive as he knows. The teen ganders around the room, his eyes barely looking for something other than a figure...that is until he spots a book. A small notebook atop her dresser, laden with red lace and a ink across it that reads ‘For My Eyes Only’. Curiosity entices him to look inside, flicking to a random page of the book with a guilty but interested action.
‘He’s a fucking asshole. Dino’s a real shit-stirrer. But I can’t lie if Peter had his body and his face, maybe I’d like him a little more...”
the writing continues but Peter chooses not to. He slams the book shut, his lips letting out an audible gasp. What the fuck, Rosalie? Peter steps back from the dresser as he hears footsteps from the down the hall. With a few ‘shits’ and a few ‘fucks’, he leaves the room with relative ease and stealth. Luckily, the hallway is still empty...
What the fuck did she mean by that?! Thoughts race through his mind as he treks down the hallways. No...no...calm, maybe that entry was from a while back. Before we got to know each other - before we fucked...but then...what if it wasn’t?
The teen holds his rage with a balled fist, his mind distracted until he hears giggling and a noise from one of the rooms in the hallway.
