The entire night she didn't sleep. Her mind wandering everywhere to how Pete's doing to how this whole separation thing of both sides being stupid.
There's no reason for the conformist kids and non-conformists kids to separate, you either adjust to how they are or fuck off. Popular Britney wannabes could like MCR or whatever bands those non-conformists kids would like. They could both just respect what they like.
Wonder how it's been for the outcast kids. Actual outcast kids. The ones who don't fit into a category. Emo, Goth, Vamp, Popular kids or neutral. Those who go for both and is shunned by them or seen as a traitor or an ally.
She didn't bother closing her eyes. She just looked at the ceiling, thinking, listening to music, taking apart pens and putting them back together, singing to herself, debates with herself about texting him until..
10+ Messages from Red Goth.
Voice message from Red Goth. 0:02Voice message from Red Goth. 0:01Voice message from Red Goth. 0:12
'jsj''kkkkkkkkkkkkikkwkkkkkkkkkkkkkllnx'
Voice message from Red Goth. 0:20
Voice message from Red Goth. 2:03
Voice message from Red Goth. 25:12
Voice message from Red Goth. 1:11
Voice message from Red Goth. 10:35
Voice message from Red Goth 0:02
Messages all coming at once. "Is he high?" She asked herself. Pete doesn't smoke weed or does any drugs he only ever smokes cigarettes.
'Whatever the fuck.' She though to herself before texting,
You: 'hello?'
It was already 6:32 AM. She was supposed to sleep 6 hours ago and so was he. She only ever knew that because he has called her before because he couldn't fall asleep without crying or feeling bad about everything. She never pointed it out how he felt vulnerable enough or ever comfortable enough to hear and see him cry.
Seen.
Everything was making her angry. The fan making noise, her hair making sound everytime she moved, the slight noise of the clock ticking, water droplets. The little things setting you off.
She got up and washed her face, contemplating if she should even get ready for school that starts in 2 or 3 hours. She had been looking at her phone, the same message with Pete, not even scrolling up or doing anything to stop the fingers from fidgeting with anything leaving her restless and anxious.
It'd been days since Pete and her talked, no shit she'd feel fucked. There's nothing more mind fucking than getting random texts and voice messages with nothing being said as if his entire body was on the keyboard button mashing.
Is this his way of saying hi? Was he that embarrassed to even say something that he'd result in saying random shit?
She brushed her teeth and put on a sweater, forgetting about the pants. She closed the lights and sat on the bed, not bothering to fix up her messy, frizzled hair. Her usual routine was thrown away, abandoned ever since the whole thing with Pete. She bit her nails, a habit she couldn't stop no matter how hard she tried. Wendy's on her ass about biting them because she plans on bringing (Y/N) to some nail salon.
Wendy's nice. The biggest feminist in school. Wendy's not that bad of a person or too much of a prissy sissy bitch. When her group of friends weren't there and it were just (Y/N) and her, they'd do everything the girls didn't wanna do.
But Wendy's not the best at comforting or helping shit like this.
She calls Pete.
