CHANGES [eric matthews]

The Pink Flamingo Kids

↳CHAPTER 3.7
The Pink Flamingo Kids.
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『 "We don't have to be what our family is."』
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BECKETT EXTENDED HER ARM from Shawn's reach, the cordless phone clutched in her hand. Unfortunately, this tactic didn't work as well as when Shawn was ten, as he was now taller then her. He snatched the phone from her grip and used his free hand to push her by the face backwards, eliciting an angry groan.

Their dad was on the line, waiting patiently to talk to each of his children. Beck followed her brother angrily as he spoke,

"Hey, it's Shawn!" He said with a smile, heading down the stairs from Beck's loft. She stomped after him, fighting the urge to shove him down the stairs.

"Shawn!" Cory spoke from the doorway, a large camera on his shoulder. Beck gave him a strange look, which he only shrugged to.

"On the phone, Cor," Shawn murmured back, "So, dad, how will you celebrate your birthday?" There was a pause as he listened, then a laugh, "Oh, that's great!" He leaned over to his sister, "He'd going to the dog track with President Clinton."

Beck rolled her eyes at the obvious lie, then put out her hand, "My turn." He shoved a finger in her face to silence her, and headed for the couch. The older girl turned to Turner in annoyance, "Is anyone else seeing this?"

"Shawn.." Turner warned. The boy sighed and held up two fingers. Two minutes.

"So, you coming home soon?" Shawn asked hopefully, which peaked the girl's interest. It had been far too long since she'd seen her father, and she didn't know how much longer she could take of this. "Yeah I understand." Shawn nodded after a moment, giving Beck the impression the answer had been no.

"Where's your dad calling from?" Cory asked Beck in a lower voice. The girl shrugged,

"He said aboard the Air Force One, but when has he ever been truthful." She huffed, "I doubt the president would let my dad come within 100 feet from him."

"What? You gotta go?" Shawn asked, "Oh! The President needs the phone." He turned to the other three in the room, "Yeltsin's on call-waiting."

Beck raised an eyebrow, before extending her hand towards Shawn and beckoning for the phone.

"Okay, well, we can't wait to—" Shawn stilled for a moment, his expression darkening, "Hello? Lost him." He sighed as took a seat on the couch, "Didn't even get a chance to sing him happy birthday."

Beck groaned, "Shawn, you always do this! Just for once I wanna talk to my father, is that too much to ask?"

She pushed past the crowd of three and stomped up to her room in the loft. Even after this year of staying with Turner, she hadn't gotten used to its size. Her room at the Pink Flamingo Trailer Park was significantly smaller, and resembled more of a closet then anything else. This one was more of a large empty space with a couch, desk, and a queen sized bed that felt too big and cold for her.

She had created her own oasis by moving all the blankets and pillows to the center to create a cocoon, her scratchy childhood blanket as a comfort on top. She shoved herself inside it and blew a piece of hair out of her face angrily.

Stupid Shawn and his stupid phone hogging habits.

He had a bad habit of keeping the phone on him as long as possible, leaving the older girl maybe a minute or so, usually, to speed run through all of the things she wished she could tell her father in person.

She hadn't been given enough time or privacy to confront him about Jack and his father's letters, although it was itching in her brain. She decided it was left better for when they were in the same room, so he didn't have the option of hanging up to get away from the conversation.