Family is Family is Family *Uno&(maybe)Guillermo*

[ROSE MERCER]

OUTFIT OF FUZZY FAMILY MOMENTS

Had it been Rose's aunt Margie, more formally known as Margret Gwynn, who had called her, she honestly would have just hung up. Rose hadn't spoken to that side of her family since Nana Grace's funeral, and she rather liked the silence. It was a comfort, not to be looked at as an outsider. She had invented her own family in Mallory, Seth, Jeny, and Guillermo. Oh, and now baby. That too. Anywho, the point was, she didn't need the Mercer's anymore. But it wasn't Margie who called. It was her husband Nicholas.

Now, Rose was not close with any of her father's sister's husbands. Not because they weren't good men, nor really particularly good men, from Rose's witnessing. Simply put, there just wasn't much dialogue. Their wives, three evil harpies with vaginas resembling planet Hoth, made their distaste for their niece clear. And, rather than having their dicks frozen off, on the off chance intercourse would happen between spouses, the Uncles generally avoided Rose. Not that she was the chatty sort. So, one could imagine Rose's surprise when Nicholas Gwynn called her cellphone. Especially as she had no idea how he even got her cellphone number.

Of course, this was not pleasure call. He made his pleasantries, inquiring how she was, and life in general. Again, he startled her, showing knowledge that he knew she was a mechanic, when asking how that was going. Awkwardly she answered, leaning against her counter, explaining she was taking a small sabbatical. Honestly, when Rose had returned from her Europe excursion, she had been excited to get back to work. But Fernando finding out about the pregnancy put a halt to that, and his concern for fumes and such directed him to send her home on 'Maturity Leave' for the next nine months. Paid vacation sounded like a dream to most, but it left her rather bored. Not that she told her Uncle any of this. After a moment of silence, he began talking about her cousin Ripley. She paused for a moment, feeling a pinch of guilt that she didn't know which one of them was Ripley, until he started talking about her being a Junior in High school. Alright, then, that made her Number One. Damn, she was in High school? Rose gave little 'huh's' and 'mmhmm's' when it called for it, but otherwise stayed wearily quiet.

Number One, the eldest of the Minor Cousin's, was apparently getting a little rebellious. Sneaking out, pot, drinking, boys, what have you. Rose listened awkwardly, as the first genuine conversation she had with her Uncle became about him expressing his concern for his eldest child. Still... apart of Rose was touched by it, as much as she was uncomfortable. Then the two words no rebel wanted to hear exited the Father's mouth. Military school. What exactly did this have to do with her? Not that it wasn't... interesting? But, it hardly seemed to be her business.

And then he came out with it.

Margie and Number One could no longer stand one another, and Nicholas could not finance Military school without taking a large hit to their savings. The other Aunts had no interest, and besides, would be unable to help the wily girl. But Rose, who had gone through a rebellious phase (when exactly was he thinking she stopped her 'rebellious phase'?), might be able to reach out to her. A long moment of silence followed, while Rose determined if this was a joke or not. She promised to call back, and dialed her Mother's number, inquiring her opinion. Of course, Mama, ever the tender heart, and positively tickled that Rose could bond with someone with Mercer blood, was gun ho for the idea. Rose attempted protest, but her Mother cut her short, with a soft, sagely, voice: "Ellos son la familia, mija."

Sonofabitch.

So Rose called back, and agreed. The next day a lawyer came with paperwork, and she was requested to pick up the kid that Saturday. Awesome.

So, here she was, selfish ass Rose Mercer, driving her hemi down to Long Island, to pick up a cousin she barely knew but was becoming her roommate, so that her family, which Rose did not like, wouldn't take a hit on a Military school bill. Mother fucker. She still hadn't brought it up to Guillermo, though she was unsure of why. She hadn't really brought it up to anyone. Reaching the nice little neighborhood, with that strange green stuff on the ground that could only be found in Central Park in Rose's neck of the woods, she parked across the street from her assigned address. She knew she was not welcome inside Margie's home, EVEN THOUGH ROSE WAS TAKING IN HER FUCKING DAUGHTER. And frankly, that was fine. Leaning against her door, she tooted the car horn, wishing with every fiber of her being for a cigarette.

Her cloths were dark, mostly to annoy her Aunt, who could be seen scowling out the window at her. Rose gave an unconcerned wave, tugging at her R necklace gently. Her leather jacket sat in the back seat, leaving Rose in the black, newspaper print, tank blouse. Grey patch-stitched skinny pants, and of course thigh high leather boots that would grind Margie's gears. The outfit kept the monochromatic feel, save the vividly green earrings dangling from hear ears in front of the two plaited braids, and the green purse on the floor near her seat. Her blue eyes scanned the house from behind her sunglasses, as she gnawed on her pinky nail to quench her nicotine craving. Three months, and she still dreamed of the smoke.

Sighing, she puffed at the loose bangs hanging from her forehead, not really impatient, but a little nervous. This could either be an okay experience, or a disaster. Nicholas assured her that it was currently a trial period, and Number One would be on her best behavior.

But if he could guarantee that, what the hell was Rose doing here in the first place?

[RIPLEY "TRAMP" GWYNN]

It all happened so damn quick. The fight that left Tramp's throat sore, and then the lawyer the next day. Apparently she was going to live with her cousin, Rose now. The last time she saw the hispanic girl was on Thanksgiving--which had been a complete disaster. Much like Rose--Tramp felt a bit of the outcast, since her trouble started. However, she was still considered family, unlike Rose seemed to be.

"RIPLEY. GET DOWN HERE!" Her mother screeched, and from up in her now bare room, Tramp could hear the horn of the truck blare. She had been perched on the edge of her bed waiting, her jaw set tight, and her lips only opening to inhale her cigarette and push it out. Her hoodie was unzipped, but on her arms, falling down around her elbows--mostly for decoration, rather than warmth. Beneath that was a simply tanktop that nearrly covered a pair of raggedy, torn shorts. Tramp remained trancelike, waiting.

At the sound of Rose's arrival, Tramp leapt to her feet--securely laced into a pair of combat boots and swung her backpack on her shoulder. Stacking her duffelbag ontop of her suitcase, she dragged it down the steps--scuffing the wooden stairs.

It didn't stop Margie's screeching however. "Oh, you have to damage the house while you're at it? What is wrong with you? I'm glad you're going; you're someone else's problem now. And get that damn stick of cancer out of your mouth, you are seventeen god damn years old!" The irritating voice followed Tramp through the livingroom, and out the door. Three younger blonde girls scurried out like roaches after their mother, who was still screaming absolutely nonsense at the still smoking teenager.

Tramp marched to Rose's car, and tugged the passenger door open, pushing the seat foward to move her bags into the back seat. Actually having the care to lift it, and lay the bags flat, as to not scratch the outside, or inside of the car. "Oh, so you're going to mess up our house, but you're going to treat this piece of junk like it's worth something." Margie continued, even as her daughter fixed the seat and slumped in it, and closed the door.

"And Rose Mercer, if my daughter ends up knocked up by some loser puerto rican jackass, I am holding you fully responsible. You're a guardian now, why are you even dressed like that? You look like you're coming off the street, which isn't anything new, really--"

Margie was cut off by Tramp studdenly sticking a good portion of her body out of the window, and coming into her mothers face. "Seriously, man,"

[/color] As Tramp's raspy voice spoke, smoke curled out from her lips, and into her mother's face, "Stuff a cake in it."[/color] Tramp flicked the end of the cigarette onto that pristine, perfect grass, before quickly sliding back in the car, and pushing up the window quickly, just in time to see her mother's face start to turn red.

"I highly suggest you get into gear and get the hell out before she smashes your window. And please, do feel free to fuck up the grass."[/color] Tramp crossed her arms on her stomach while she sunk into the passenger seat, her thumb rubbing against one of the claw rings that encased her index finger. She turned her head and took a good look at her cousin, and tilted her head a little. "Actually, feel free to bulldoze right through the house. This baby looks like it could tear the shit out of that stupid ass plaster."[/green] Tramp straightened up, and turned to sit on the side of her hip, after tugging a seatbelt over herself, turning her gaze to stare out of the windsheild.

OUTFIT OF TELLING HER MUM TO STUFF HER FAT FACE! YAY! [/blockquote][/size]

[ROSE MERCER]

Rose watched with a bored expression as her cousin exited the house, her Aunt marching after daughter, squawking in a matter that must make the neighbors incredibly uncomfortable. There was only mild interest from Rose, like a student politely watching their teacher go over a subject they already knew.

So, cousin One was a smoker. Just like all the cousin's she had pale blond hair and round blue eyes, with an angelic round face that covered up true and pure mischief. There was a certain amount of surprise when the cousin didn't manhandle (girlhandle?) Baby, but Rose didn't have long to think on it, as Margie's voice ripped through her eardrum. First of all, Baby was in no way, shape, or form a 'Piece of Junk'. Second, what the fuck would Margie really do to Rose, if One got pregnant? It wasn't like she'd be in her Mother's custody anymore. So, she said nothing, staring with her bored expression behind the aviator sunglasses.

"I highly suggest you get into gear and get the hell out before she smashes your window. And please, do feel free to fuck up the grass." One's voice came from the car, not quite what she was expecting. Actually, it was much like Rose's. Quiet, but with a severity. She had never assumed that to be a Mercer trait, until this point.

Fabulous.

Waving unconcernedly, Rose opened the driver side car door. "I always cherish these warm family moments, Marge." With that, she got back in the car, happy to leave.

Number One, who Rose thought she would call Uno from this point on, also seemed ready to take her leave. "Actually, feel free to bulldoze right through the house. This baby looks like it could tear the shit out of that stupid ass plaster." Buckling herself, she near scolded the girl for suggesting such a thing. Like Rose would waste Baby's pristine exterior work on that load. But, it occurred to Rose, that it could be Uno's attempt at humor. Rose offered the girl a small, wry, smile. If it was meant to be humorous, it would be acknowledge as sort of funny. If not, it would be acknowledged as sort of funny, but not even if it were to save the fricken Pope's life.

Starting the car, she gave a final glance to Margie, before starting down the street. An awkward silence followed. Honestly, Rose wasn't sure what to say. Perhaps she should ask if Uno was okay? But did she care? Not really, truth be told. And what could be done if she wasn't? Rose definitely was not the comforting sort. "So." She started, not even having had figured out words to say yet. Another pause, though shorter than before, ensued once more. "Let's get this out of the way, shall we Uno? What are your demands and wants, and I'll tell you my... expectations? I guess they could be called that... Sure." She shrugged, not really caring about semantics at the moment.

It wasn't like she was going to ask for much.

And she kind of hoped that Uno would return the favor.

Or at least keep her want list fucking realistic.

Rose was not a maid, and this kid would be off her fucking rocker if she thought she was getting breakfast in bed everyday.

[RIPLEY "TRAMP" GWYNN]

”Let’s get ths out of the way, shall we Uno? What are your demands and wants, and I’ll tell you my…expectations? I guess they could be called that… Sure.”

Tramp glanced over at her cousin, and chewed the inside of her cheek. Rose seemed to be really apathetic about this all. She as mildly disappointed this, sort of hoping that Rose had welcomed her with open arms. That they would laugh about Tramp’s mother’s absurdity, and bond over their mutual distaste for the family they shared. The disappointment never showed on Tramp’s face while she tugged at a strand of messy blonde hair.

“I like to wake up with foot rubs, and a hot bath. Then I like my breakfast to be ready, eggs and bacon—over-easy on the eggs, and the bacon almost burnt.” The corner of her mouth twitched, glancing sideways at Rose, before choking down a chuckle. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding.”

[/b] She crossed one leg over the other in the seat, still tugging on her hair, twisting the strands in her fingers. When she was offered to actually have her opinion on what she wanted, Tramp came up blank. Another surprise.

“At home, I’d have to sneak out whenever I wanted to go somewhere with someone. Even if I asked like a good little girl,”[/color] Insert eyeroll, “I’ll let you know where I’m going. And I have a cellphone to call when I figure out how late I’m gonna be gone, but a bit of freedom on coming and going sounds a bit fair.”[/color] Her brows furrowed, while she scrunched up her lips in thought. There had to be something else, but when put on the spot it was a little difficult to come up with things. And the slight tension in the car wasn’t helping matters at all.

Tramp’s foot bounced slightly, wracking her brain for something. Especially since she didn’t know her cousin that well. Rose was supposed to be the new head honcho, but she didn’t put it past the other woman to lock her out of the house, or knock her around if she got smart assed. Margie could harp, and nag, and scream—but Tramp usually did whatever she wanted, when she wanted, and didn’t really care about what her mother thought or felt. On the other hand, she felt herself wanting to get along with Rose; to have someone to relate to. And even look up to.

The mushy thought caused her to wrinkle her little nose, and she dropped her hair that she had been playing with. “Let’s hear your side, cause I’m not thinking of anything off the top of my head. As long as you aren’t trying to be my mom, I think things will be fine. You won’t even notice I’m there, if that’s how you want it.”[/color] Tramp shrugged her shoulders, toying with one of the many rings encasing her fingers. This wasn’t exactly going how she planned; and that was making her a little uncomfortable. Tramp was intimidated by Rose, a feeling she only felt when paired with her Uncle. A shudder ran down her spine at the thought of the man, and she glanced reproachfully at Rose. She knew well enough the girl and her father didn’t get on well, and she sort of wondered if Rose was passed some of the man’s habits.

“What are your wants, demands, and expectations, Senorita Rosie?”
[/size][/blockquote]

[ROSE MERCER]

“I like to wake up with foot rubs, and a hot bath. Then I like my breakfast to be ready, eggs and bacon—over-easy on the eggs, and the bacon almost burnt.” Sonofabi- Rose's sharp blue eyes shot wearily at her grinning cousin, and her shoulders relaxed. Okay, she was joking. Good. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding.” Rose let a smile cross her, sitting back in her seat, fingers drumming a little on the steering wheel. Well, at least she had a sense of humor. Rose wondered if that came from Uncle Nick's side of the family... “At home, I’d have to sneak out whenever I wanted to go somewhere with someone. Even if I asked like a good little girl,” The elder cousin couldn't help but grin a little more easily, wondering if that's what she sounded like at seventeen. “I’ll let you know where I’m going. And I have a cellphone to call when I figure out how late I’m gonna be gone, but a bit of freedom on coming and going sounds a bit fair.”

Rose internally debated this for a moment. On the one hand, she really would rather not be a babysitter. On the other, it seemed a little irresponsible to just let the kid run rampant. She didn't think New York would survive. Eyes staying on the road, and ear on Uno, Rose gnawed gently on her thumb nail, a habit picked up since she stopped smoking. If not for fingernails and blow pops, Rose would have gone insane by now. Even after three months, nicotine screamed out for her. Remember me, the nicotine said in a horridly lustful voice, how good I felt. How relaxed I made you. Ugh, nicotine was a fucking figurative dick tease from hell. Nicotine should die. She missed it so damn much.

Uno's voice broke her focus on the cravings. “Let’s hear your side, cause I’m not thinking of anything off the top of my head. As long as you aren’t trying to be my mom, I think things will be fine. You won’t even notice I’m there, if that’s how you want it.” That last bit threw Rose off guard. Sure the cousins had never been overly close to Rose. There Mother's, the Aunts, had never forgiven Rose's existance, as their precious baby brother Jimmy married some 'green card seeking Mexican'. Of course, this was them ignoring the fact that Maria Mercer had stuck by her husband despite years of physical abuse at his hand, and emotional at theirs. Oh, and that little detail about Maria not being Mexican, but Colombian. “What are your wants, demands, and expectations, Senorita Rosie?”

Choosing her words carefully, Rose was quiet for a second. After all, in most cases, had Rose been a diplomat, the United States would have been nuked by Canada. She was not one to simply laugh at someones nonfatal misfortunes, but point and laugh. But that would not due, right now, at this moment. No, she had to live with this girl, and (preferably) somewhat enjoy her company.

A pessimist by nature, Rose couldn't help but be concern that her Mother's opinion, despite the two's obvious distaste of each other, might have passed on a bit. Though, thus far, she had been friendly enough. "First of all, you don't have to hide in your room if you don't want to. Seriously, it's your apartment too... so, your welcome to it. Even my room, if the door is open." Rose shrugged, her voice smooth but cautious. It was such a weird boundaries to straddle. Authority figure and friend. Perhaps a joke... "And, trust me, I'm not trying to be your Mom. I don't think anyone could quite fit those shoes... assuming they make shoes for hooves." It wasn't Charlie Chaplin, but it was an attempt. At least Uno would see she was trying, right?

Taking a deep breath, she tried to think of rules on the spot. "Wants: No complaining about Spanish being el sprecken in the apartment. Cause, it happens often. Learn it or ignore it, just don't bitch. Um. Almond fudge brownie ice cream is off limits, just because it's expensive as hell and hard to find. But I always keep spare ice cream in the house, cause Seth is sort of a roamer. Oh! Uh, don't mind people just coming in and out. Generally Seth, Jeny, or Guillermo. You've seen Guillermo, at Thanksgiving, and I'm pretty sure you've seen Seth at least once, years ago. Jeny's a cute little Mexican girl, hard to miss. But yeah, they come in and out, so... roaming about in your skivs should probably be avoided." She sort of rambled through the wants, shifting awkwardly to demands. That was the one she was rather dreading, as the previous things were more suggestions. But, they sort of had to be set, after all. Minor in her care, and what not.

"I don't mind you going, though I'd prefer about two on weekdays. Shit happens, I get it. But don't sneak out. I'm not really going to say no often. But I should know where you be, you know." Okay, this wasn't going so bad. "If you have sex in the house, which I rather you didn't, but... if you do, don't do it on my bed. Seriously, I'd be less than tickled, alright. Also, eventually, laundry will get mixed up, and cloths will be borrowed. That's fine. Don't borrow my shoes though, at least without asking. I'm kinda touchy about them." Rose tried to think of other things she didn't like people touching, genuinely surprised when she could only think of one more thing. "Also, my car. It's nothing personal, but don't bother asking, because it's no, and no one drives Baby but me. Hell, if I take a shine to you, I might be able to sort out finding you something at the shop, but don't EVER think about taking my car."

Her tone was light, but serious, her eyes on the road as she maneuvered through traffic. She took a deep breath, wrapping up this bit. "Other than that, don't get the cops called on you. Don't bring drugs in the house, even weed. Folks usually stash some on the apartment roof, but be careful, because that door up there sticks. Oh, and if you need to smoke, just go out on the fire escape. the apartment is sort of... smoke free now."

Well, that was rather painless. It wasn't like she was asking for the moon, and her apartment was more or less open. Pretty good deal, as far as rebellious teenagers go. "And as far as expectations... I have none." Rose gave a little laugh, feeling the infant in her gut swirl around a little. "Whenever I got those, it ends up going almost comically the other way, soooo... fuckit. Right?" Rose grinned at her cousin, easing a little more as she got use to the girl. Though, really, Rose still knew basically nothing. First she'd get use to the presence, then Uno herself.

[RIPLEY "TRAMP" GWYNN]

Tramp relaxed when she saw the smile break onto Rose’s face, before the grin came. Tramp’s shoulders relaxed, and she sunk into the smooth seat of the car a little more comfortably. She lifted her brows, waiting for the brunette’s response, before she started talking. Her voice freaked out the younger one slightly—it was a deeper, older version of her own.

Tramp’s fingers idly scratched her neck, and bit the inside of her cheek. Maybe that’s another reason that Margie and the others got frustrated with her—she sounded like Rose. And from what her Father told her—was acting a bit like her from back in the day.
Newly dubbed Uno flinched at the hoof comment. “Oof, that’s an insult to all hoofed creatures. Plus, it’s common knowledge that she comes in a size elephant. Gosh, are you totally missing, Rose?”

[/color] Tramp rolled her eyes, her tone scolding, but the corners of her mouth were turned up, finally starting to brush away that awkward tension. She tucked her hair behind her ear, listening to the rest of the ramble. “Uhh…hard to find? You’re kidding, right? Dude. This is what you do when you’ve got the munchies for the almightly Almond Fudge Brownie deliciousness. You get the tub of fudge ice cream. Get a bag of fresh almonds and bake of some hot, fresh brownies and combine. Serious—better than that pre-packaged crap they sell in stores.”

Tramp bit her nail, not enough to chew it off, just in thought, “Two sounds fair. And dude—sex on your bed? Where you and Hot Tamale shag? Nooooo thanks.” Tramp wrinkled her nose, at the older girl, “Not even with a HazMat.” She scratched her cheek, holding the expression of disgust, before relaxing again. She looked down, her hand brushing against the inside of the door, petting the car like it was a horse, instead of an inanimate object. “I can’t drive anyway. Mother Beast thought allowing me to drive would give me too much freedom. I do my travelling on foot.” She pulled up one leg, hooking her hand under her knees, “How’d you think my legs got to lookin’ this awesome?” She lowered her leg again, and hooked her arms behind the headrest.

“Whaddya mean the door sticks? Use WD-40 or something on it.” Tramp was gonna have to check that out. If she was gonna stash her weed up there, she had to make sure it didn’t get wet. Or stale. Or stolen. If someone stole her shit, heads were gonna roll. “Sounds like a plan to me. So you’re still with that guy, huh? Why doesn’t Uncle Jimmy like him? Like…” Tramp shrugged awkwardly, and twisted her lips, “It’s nothing he did, is it?”[/color] Her tone was grave for a moment. No one in the family talked about Rose except to bad mouth her, and Guillermo definitely wasn’t mentioned. “It’s because he’s not white, isn’t it?” She licked over her lower lip, and there was a slight click of a piece of metal stabbed through her tongue hit her teeth.

“I don’t think anyone said this, but thanks. I mean, this can’t be easy for you. D’ya think you can talk to the people at the shop? Maybe I can clean around for some spare change, to help out. Ya know?” She shrugged her shoulder, picking at the metallic silver paint on her nails. Tramp wasn’t a bad kid, or entirely a hard ass. Rose seemed cool enough, and Rose wasn’t exactly giving her much of a reason to act like a brat. If she could make living with Rose easy enough that she wouldn’t get shipped back to her mother’s, then she’d do it. It was exciting, and nerve wracking all at the same time.
[/blockquote][/size]

[ROSE MERCER]

So maybe cousin Uno wasn't so bad. For the most part she seemed to have rebelled against the Mercer predisposition to Rose hate. Of course the younger cousins never really had that big of an issue with Rose. The eldest three: Jamie, Carly, and Mary had detested Rose. They were her peers, they had attended the same high school. And Rose had made no attempts for the four to be close. But the younger cousins seemed to have taken on a pinch of kindness, always referring to Rose's Mother as 'Aunt' and saying hello to Rose without a sneer.

She let out a small laugh, as they continued the discussion of what exactly her Aunt was. "That seems kind of harsh on Elephants, don't you think? They're gentle giants, so that won't work..." Rose thought hard, amusement lacing an almost serious face. "Tyrannosaurus Rex? No! No... I like dinosaurs. Hell, maybe she is just the Missing Link." Rose shrugged, giving up, grinning at Uno. "And, no, trust me. You don't want me anywhere near an oven... It's worth the $6.50 a pint to not have the apartment burned down."

Rose was comforted to hear that Uno was in no way comfortable in getting her Mate on in Rose's bed. A little saucy, slightly smug, grin roused on her lips. "Well, if you want to avoid places Guillermo and I have done the deed, you might want to just take your sexins elsewhere. We've been thorough... If you catch my meaning." And now they were pregnant. Honestly, in hindsight, she should not have been so surprised. "And as impressive as your calves are, if you want to work on the license thing, I don't got a problem with it." Rose shrugged, already deciding that Uno would get mostly free reign. Mostly. Within reason. But really, the girl was seventeenishmaybesixteenRosedidn'thonestlyknow... If she wanted to do stuff, Rose couldn't stop her, could she?

The air tightened, when Rose's Father was mentioned. Uncle Jimmy, it was strange to hear him called as such. But, then again, Rose had called him Daddy in front of Guillermo. She supposed that must have been strange for him. Rose gave a dark little chuckle, the mirth leaving her eyes. "Nah, he didn't hold his race against him. Your Mom and them did, but not Daddy. After all, he's married to my Mama, so..." She shrugged, sighing a little. "Guillermo didn't do anything but care about me." There was a small, momentary, sadness to Rose.

Deep down, beneath the bitterness and anger, Rose loved her Dad.

Deep down, there was still the little girl craving Daddy's affection and love back.

Deep down, that little girl was still confused as to what she did wrong.

But she shrugged again, as if unconcerned, her face back to its relaxed calm. "It is what it is." Sighing, a small laugh came from Rose as her cousin offered to get a job. "Uno, trust me, when you're eighteen, you'll be up to your eyeballs in work. Don't worry about money, I've got it handled. Just... you know. Do school and shit." She shrugged, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "Not that you can't. You just don't have too."

[RIPLEY "TRAMP" GWYNN]

"True nuff. I think Missing Link suits her just fine." Tramp glanced at Rose, and lifted her brows up, "Wait..then who cooks? Doesn't anyone cook in that house? Like...or do you just order out all the time?" Tramp looked absolutely horrified at the thought of this. She wasn't the healthiest eater--she did enjoy her junk food. But she did enjoy cooking a bit; she had picked it up when she had to cook for her younger sisters while her mother just lazed about with cookies.

Tramp wrinkled her nose at the realization that they were thorough in the house. With the deed. As much as she hated to admit it, she felt like she was going to have to go on a cleaning spree. Scrub the hell out of everything that remotely looked like a stain. She shrugged her shoulders foward, and made a fake gagging sound. "Yeah, but getting a liscense means a permit. And a permit means a car, and to have a car. Ya need a liscense. It's really a Catch-22, when you think about it."

She looked sideways at Rose, and lowered her eyes. "Auntie Maria is super nice. And she cooks real good, when I can sneak a bite. Mom's always saying there's poison in it."

[/color] Tramp rolled her eyes, and leaned her head against the window, staring out of it for a while. "I told Mom once, that when she points a finger--there's three more pointing back at her." Tramp's lips flickered into a grin, "She started screaming like a banshee after a minute. Took her a while to get it." The blonde shrugged again, before looking back at Rose one more time.

"Can we have another rule, Senorita Rosita?" She ryhmed, chewing the insides of her cheeks. "I don't want my mom at the house. Like, if she shows up, can ya call the cops or somethin'?"[/color] Came the apprehensive question, before dipping her eyes down, twisting the blonde hair in her fingers. "I mean, obviously I know you. But I know you better now, and I don't like the things she says about you even more now. So I'd really appreciate if I didn't have to deal with her again."[/color] There was a sadness that had echoed Rose's, before she smiled a little. "Even for the way they treat you, you've got more love it seems--than that whole family combined." Tramp stuck her tongue against the inside of her cheek idly.

"I'm gonna make that ice cream when we get there. As a Thank-You-For-Saving-Me-From-Those-Savages present." She decided with a nod, before falling quiet again. The reality of it all finally sinking in, and she felt a little intimidated. New people, Rose's people. And like any other teenage girl, she was beginning to worry herself with fitting in, and if she was going to be liked. Maybe bitch-hermiting herself wasn't going to be such a terrible idea.[/size][/blockquote]