I’m joking, you’re mother is a lovely lady. Even if she did send me to the ‘timeout corner’ every single fucking time I was over your house. Yeah, don’t think I forgot about that.
You deserved the time out corner. You constantly put peanut butter in my shoes.
Trevor groaned in annoyance, he was awake for barely half an hour and he was already sick of the room. It was decided, Trevor didn’t like hospitals. He didn’t understand it, he always heard of how colors were often associated with affecting people’s moods, so why didn’t hospitals paint their walls bright happy colors? Like a soft yellow, or at the least, add some nice pale green accents? The bland white walls were only one factor that attributed to his discomfort with the place. “Could you? What are you going to say, though? I’ll figure everything out with the costs and put it on my account. Hopefully they won’t notice…” Trevor was more worried about his parents finding out about these shenanigans than he was about figuring out a way to pay for it all. To put it simply, he came from a financially stable family. Very financially stable. They just weren’t the type to show it, they had a modest sized house, and only a little more of everything they needed. It was a comfortable life, complete with the safety net of a generous bank account.
“This is going to be a boring two days.” Trevor looked around, scanning the room for anything remotely interesting he could work with. Tonly thing that caught his eye was a small nightstand holding a stack of white printer paper and a handfull of different colored markers, most likely something promoting small children to draw things for their sick elders. Suddenly an idea came to him and he wondered if Isabella would be up for it. “Bells, do you think they’d let us put stuff up on the walls? They can’t say anything, right?” The source of Trevor’s sudden enthusiastic spontaneity was unknown to him —the most probable answer being the strong meds he was hooked up to— but this didn’t stop him from wanting to do something to pass the time. Hopefully, Isabella could look past their passed and just for this one occasion, actually enjoy spending time with Trevor again like they used to. “What do you say to a little interior decorating, babes?” The teenager was acting like anything but, as Trevor flashed her his most charming smile. He himself wasn’t even sure of what they’d do, but he was sure that if he was being forced to stay in this room for two days, he wanted to try and brighten it up a bit, pimp it out a little.
"My dad’s off to Colorado for a business trip this week," Isabella suggested, bringing her thumb up to lightly bite on the nail in thought; it was a slight habit of hers, "I could just say we’re all tagging along for some.. bonding." she shrugged her shoulders and gave Trevor a hopeful expression, wondering if that certain excuse would suffice for his momentary leave from the spiral of the world. For a moment, she considered school and what his friends would think; if they wouldn’t notice at all that he left and would just shake it off as ‘some trouble that Keanes always get out of’ or actually worry. And his parents, how oblivious would they be to believe Isabella’s excuse for a whole trip, as if they didn’t know what was going on with their son. As kids, she remembered them caring a lot more, like this one time when Trevor fell asleep at her house and his mother called a minute before curfew; because they worried then. But who was she to assume rather than let her mind wander elsewhere? She barely even knew what was going on with Trevor’s life nowadays, if at all; for all she could think of, there might be a whole freaking lollapalooza of happiness going on in that household, and that his parents would just flip if their little baby got hurt.
Trevor’s sudden statement got Isabella’s attention, putting a roadblock on her train of thought and the conductor calling out her name. A small chuckle left her lips and a slight smile adorned them afterwards, “I don’t think so. I mean, they do it all the time with patients, when their kids or something make get well cards. I don’t see a reason for complaint, I mean, these walls are..” She saw his eyes light up just momentarily, like the flicker of a dead light in an empty corridor, and knew at once that he had been up to something. “..boring.” There was no telling what, but something; and until now, Trevor remained a mystery, a mischievous, wicked, yet brilliant mind. Isabella missed it. At his suggestion, a grin appeared on her lips, as if it was the first genuine one in such hours; if her parents had seen her just then, they would wonder what was up. “I’d say that’s perfect, Trev. Here,” she stood up, picking up a small pile of the printer paper, a clipboard, and some markers, handing them to Trevor. “Let’s pimp up our shit, downtown style.” There Isabella went again, restating movie quotes in hopes they’d lighten the situation; but no matter. This wasn’t a moment to sulk or slap herself because she had been hanging out with Trevor. Besides, he was never that bad when he was by himself. Tolerable, if she could say.