Philips (Sequel to De Santa)

Chapter Thirty Two

"I just saw you," I chuckled into the phone.

"I know that, but I miss you," Trevor whined. "Half the time we see each other, you're sleeping."

"We had dinner."

"Weeks ago. Come on, Peaches, you know you want to."

"Of course I want to, but what am I supposed to tell Dad? That I'm staying the night with his least favorite person?"

"I'm his least favorite person?"

"It may be a tie between you and the dude who stabbed me, but yes."

"What about Arty?"

"He's dead, can't hate him anymore than that. We're getting off topic, Trevor."

"Just tell him you're going camping with Cletus."

"Camping? You expect him to believe that?"

"He believes you run, doesn't he?"

"I do run!"

"Really?" Trevor asked with disbelief. "I thought it was just some metaphor."

"Trevor!"

"Just tell him you're going camping and make him believe it, okay?"

"You know the only reason I'm going along with this is because we actually have work to do tonight."

"That and because you miss me," Trevor cooed. "So, that's a yes?"

"It's a yes," I sighed. "But no funny business, Trevor."

"Define 'funny business'." I hung up the phone and sighed with frustration. I actually was excited to spend the night with Trevor, but all this prep work we gotta do before the job was starting to get to me. I was stressed beyond belief. So many people expected so much shit from me just because I'm Michael's kid. They didn't expect shit from Jim or Tracey. Why me?

I got out of my car and headed inside. "Hey," Jim smiled from the living room.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" I asked.

"Just visiting," Jim explained. "The guys and I are holding auditions tonight for a new bass player and Dad's house is closer to Tim's place."

"Cool, good luck."

"Thanks."

"Where's Dad?"

"He went out to get dinner, why?"

"I'm going camping, I was just wanting to let him know."

"Camping?" Jim chuckled.

"I camp!" I exclaimed. "I'm a very outdoorsy person!"

"If you say so."

"Just for that, I hope the person you hire has explosive diarrhea on stage," I smirked and quickly made my way upstairs to pack, being sure to grab my toiletries, some cash, clothes, and my knife and gun. Once I was satisfied with my bag's contents, I slung the bag over my shoulder and raced downstairs.

"Bye, Jim!" I called out.

"Bye, have fun camping!" Jim guffawed. I rushed out to my car just as Dad was climbing out of his.

"Hi, dad! Bye, Dad!" I smiled.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Dad smiled. "Where's the fire?"

"No fire, just in a hurry."

"For what? It's Chinese night. I even got your favorite." Dad held out a container and showed me its contents.

"Ooh, wontons." I took one and popped it into my mouth with a smile. "Xiè xiè (thank you). Okay, see ya."