Lost, But Found // Patrick Stump

chapter three

anna ran into the handicapped stall and shut and locked the door. she curled herself into a tight ball and took very deep breaths, in an attempt to calm down.

it didn't work. it only made anna more anxious, more ready to freak out.

why did you even freak out, you stupid idiot, she thought to herself. all patrick said was that you were extraordinary. and this is your way of thanking him? after everything he's done for you. congratulations, annabelle. you're a bigger jerk than i thought you were.

anna now began to cry. up until this point, she had been completely silent. and that included laughing and crying. she now succumbed to her anxiety, to her emotions.

she must have sobbed for about thirty minutes; it felt like such a very long time. she regretted everything she'd done to patrick. he probably felt like crap now; she had been so very awful to that poor man. the man who checked in on her every single day, for weeks and weeks. the man who had helped her through so much already. one of the only people besides her mother who had ever cared about her.

and she pushed him away, just like she had done to a bunch of people that were, at one point or another, part of her life.

there was now a knock on the door of anna's stall. she quickly became silent and started wiping her tears away.

"annabelle? it's patrick." he sounded like he'd been crying as well. "can you please come out? the last thing i need is to be caught in the girl's bathroom."

and out she came, tears still staining her pale white cheeks. her pale blue eyes were now glossy, and her light brown hair was damp, for she had wiped the tears with her hair.

patrick wore his fedora upon his head, which helped to hide the tears that threatened to fall from his blue, maybe green, eyes.

"annabelle, what's wrong? why did you run away like that?" he asked softly.

anna just shrugged, unsure about how to respond.

"was it something i said?" he asked, with a concerned look on his face.

anna mouthed, "i'm not extraordinary, patrick."

"but you are, anna," he protested. "you're the most wonderful girl that i've ever met. you get me, you know me so well, you're my best friend. how do you not believe me?"

she shrugged again.

"well, let's get out of here before i'm kicked out for being in the girl's room." patrick chuckled, and took anna's hand.

it was warm, calloused from strumming his guitar, yet so smooth at the same time. it fit perfectly into her own hand, ice cold and so tiny.

it was like cinderella and her glass slipper, the perfect fit.

-

when they stepped out of the bathroom, they were greeted by a familiar face.

"well, well, what do we have here?" he laughed jokingly. that big, very foolish grin was on his face.

"not funny, pete," patrick said sternly, but he was smiling.

it was pete wentz, patrick's very dear friend. pete was also close with anna. she hadn't shut out pete, joe, and andy, patrick's bandmates; in fact, they often came to visit when patrick did. anna loved those four guys to death. they were funny, caring, and very respectful, especially with women; they knew how to treat a girl right.

"why were you, the incomparable patrick stump, in the girl's bathroom with our very dear anna?" pete asked.

"it wasn't like that, pete. i swear to god," he replied, blushing furiously.