The Theory of Existence (Peterick)

1: The Notion of Existence (Part3: The Bleachers)

"Hey, Patty," Gerard said, only making Patrick imagine an elaborate scheme in a matter of two seconds where he heaved his books at the mirror, the glass would shatter everywhere while Patrick covered his vulnerable face with his arm and then, as Gerard was recovering from shock, Patrick would grab a shard of glass and slit Gerard's annoying throat, ceasing the ridiculous stories and hopefully putting an end to all the "boyfriend" shit people gave him.

"So are we skipping class then, cause if we are, we should at least take advantage of the fact that the cameras can't see under the bleachers up at the track," Gerard urged.

Momentarily disgusted, thinking Gerard had been suggesting they have sex, Patrick was relieved when Gerard pulled out a lighter from his messenger bag and waved it around.

Despite the fact that he wasn't a smoker and did not intend to become one, Patrick agreed, pleased for any excuse to get away from the building and out of the bathroom glittered with a scent that could only be described as unbearably rancid.

As they walked through a maze of staircases and hallways to he back door of the school, (but first stopping at their respective lockers so Gerard could put his bag away and Patrick could part with his books,) Patrick asked something he'd only just now begun to wonder about. "So how do we just walk out of the school when there are cameras at the doors? Won't we get caught?"

Patrick was beginning to question the authenticity of some of the stories Gerard had forced upon him over the last few months that they had been "friends".

"They won't check the cameras unless they suspect something is going on, and if they do, or if someone sees us leaving, we let them think we're leaving for a doctor's appointment. The student parking lot is back here so it makes enough sense." Gerard's words didn't do much to calm Patrick's nerves, but then again, nothing ever really seemed to calm Patrick.
He was eternally restless.

The school's two token gay kids made the journey across the parking lot and up to the track, which seemed five times as far as it actually was since Patrick was nervously fidgeting and looking back the whole way, sure that they would get caught and charged with three accounts of murder to learning.

As they walked under the bleachers and leaned against the stone wall of the outside of the track bathrooms, Patrick let out a deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding captive in his lungs.

Gerard started to climb the beams holding the old wooden bleachers up .

"What are you doing?" Patrick asked, skeptical when it came to Gerard's decisions.

"Climbing," Gerard stated the obvious.

"Well I can see that," Patrick said, annoyed. "But why?"

"Because I can," Gerard stated simply, eliciting an eye roll from his companion still standing with his feet planted firmly on the ground.

"Because these," Gerard decided to explain, grabbing a tiny box out from where it was planted between the top of the iron supports and the underside of the bleachers. "Are up here," Gerard finished, shimmying down to the roof of the restrooms, and pulling a little stick of pre-rolled cancer out of the pack he'd just retrieved.

"I'm not going up there," Patrick said defiantly.

"What?" Gerard shouted, pretending he couldn't hear the other boy. "You're so far away! What was that?"

"You're not THAT high up. You heard what I said, you little shit!" Patrick said, speaking only a little bit louder than before for fear that someone would hear them and lock them up in detention. Or give them suspension since Gerard had cigarettes. Patrick just prayed he wouldn't get in trouble for association.