a boy like that | dandy mott |

Rosalie slowly followed behind Jimmy once they had arrived home. It had been a few weeks since she had seen anybody, and now it felt that she was about to walk and meet a bunch of strangers. She was dragging her suitcase in the damp grass below, listening as it occasionally hit a rock or dipped into an indent in the ground. As long as her clothes remained safe and clean inside, she didn't care if the case got beat up.

She realized Jimmy had brought her to her trailer, her name painted in red letters on the siding, and the paint was new.

"We cleaned it up for you... In case you decided to come home, you know," Jimmy said. Rosalie nodded, and he followed her inside.

Everything was squeaky clean; fresh sheets, everything had been dusted, the carpet was swept, and it smelled clean. Rosalie set her things down and ran a hand along her bed, already remembering the feeling of waking up with a sore back.

"It looks nice, thank you," Rosalie said. Jimmy was standing with his hands in his pockets, nodding with a slight smile.

"Everybody is excited to see you, do you want to go now or do you want to rest?" Jimmy asked.

"I would like to rest for a little bit, it's been a rough afternoon, at least for me," Rosalie whispered. Jimmy nodded and said he would check on her in a few hours, before leaving and quietly closing the door behind him.

Rosalie sat down on the side of her bed and stared at the door, wishing that Dandy's room was still on the opposite side. She had grown accustomed to having him knock on her door after he was done taking a nap, or startling her out of her wits when he barged in when one of his imaginative ideas were so exciting that he had to tell someone. She laid back and placed her hands on her stomach, feeling the uncomfortable twist and pull of nausea creeping up on her.

Thanksgiving was less than two weeks away, she could do this.

And what about after? When you won't be able to see him again?

Rosalie sighed and grabbed the fluffiest pillow she had before setting it over her face and screaming. 

-

Dandy was taking his pent up anger out on the small punching bag in his room, imagining it was the head of that Jimmy Darling.

The anger he had for his mother, however, was unmatched.

He spent years despising his mother; she was never there for him as a child, she had better things to do than care for the boy Gloria had brought into this world so selfishly when she married her second cousin and decided to procreate. His angry punches became violent as he hit the bag so hard that his arms began to ache.

"I HATE HER!" Dandy yelled as he gave one last punch, nearly losing his balance at the hard shove he gave. He stepped away from the corner and sat on the couch in the middle of the room, running a hand through his dark hair.

Gloria had heard the commotion from downstairs and lingered outside of his door, raising a hand to gently knock. Dandy perked his ears up at the sound, standing up in his underwear. "WHAT?" he called.

"Dandy, may I come in?" she asked from the other side.

"No!" he said, his eyes glancing towards the white tub

 sitting just a few feet away. "I'm indecent," he said, walking over and turning on the knob for the hot water. Gloria stood quietly, listening to the water splashing around in the bottom of the tub and decided to believe him.

"I will come back later, we have to talk, Dandy!" she requested, before quietly walking away and back down the steps. Dandy figured that he might as well take a bath, plugging the tub before stepping inside. The water was almost too hot to handle, but he stayed seated, enjoying the pain as it numbed what he was feeling in his heart.