Lost, But Found // Patrick Stump

chapter five

the next morning, anna sat at the table, watching as her mother brewed a pot of coffee. she was still reeling from the events of the previous day.

she desperately wanted to tell the story to her mother, but she just couldn't. and even if she could, her mother probably wouldn't believe that she punched pete wentz in the face.

because anna was too nice, too good, to even think about hurting anyone. as her mother had once said, "you wouldn't even harm a fly, you're so kindhearted."

-

patrick was also reeling from the events of the previous day, just not the same events as anna.

he had confessed his feelings for her, and she wasn't even awake when that happened. he felt heartbroken, stupid, like a failure.

he needed to talk to someone. not pete, for he was too drunk to care. not andy or joe, for patrick felt as if he talked to them about his problems way too much, and, quite frankly, they were probably sick of it.

then he thought of someone.

-

after nearly 45 minutes of pondering whether or not to call him, patrick finally decided to just do it. so he dialed the number.

he picked up just after the beginning of the second ring.

"patrick?" was the first thing he said when he answered.

"hey," patrick said nervously.

"why are you awake? it's, like, noon."

"actually, it's nine."

"in the afternoon?"

"in the morning, brendon," he groaned, making note of the reference that brendon just made about his own song.

"yeah, i guess it is," brendon said, yawning. "but that doesn't really explain why you're up at nine o'clock in the morning."

"i need help, brendon. it's about a girl," patrick said, knowing that brendon would be more than happy to give relationship advice.

and he was more than pleased when brendon, who suddenly sounded awake, happily exclaimed, "say no more, patrick! i'll be over in about twenty minutes."

-

anna's mother set down two cups of coffee. the steam rose from both as if the coffee was on fire.

"i thought you looked tired, kiddo," she said.

anna nodded and carefully took a tiny sip. she quickly recoiled, for the coffee just about scalded her tongue. she put down her cup in horror, as if the coffee was poison.

"i forgot to ask if you had fun at breakfast with patrick yesterday," her mom said. "so i'm going to ask now. did you have fun at breakfast with patrick yesterday?"

anna just shrugged.

her mother now looked at her quizzically. it was as if she could sense that something was wrong; her maternal instincts had decided to kick in.

"anna, what happened at breakfast yesterday?" she asked.

anna didn't know how to respond, so she just sat there in silence.

her mother knew that she just couldn't bring herself to speak, so she said, "it's okay if you don't want to talk, honey. it really is. you just worry about taking as much time as you need to recover. i can ask patrick later-"

anna didn't know what exactly happened at that moment, but it was almost as if something inside of her finally clicked.

her first words since the depression first hit were, "it was pete, mom."