A Conformist Love Story: Goth Kid Pete x Reader

Chapter Fourteen

*Pete's P.O.V.*

I saw just leaving the cemetery when I had to pull over for the ambulance to drive past me, not thinking anything of it. Then, I went home for a few hours before I met everyone else at Denny's for coffee. It was around 10:00 pm, and I could tell the waitress was annoyed. I knew Michael didn't care, but I always sort of felt bad for them. They were really only waiting on us.

Michael was going on about those pointless something was- really wasn't listening, when I watched Stan and Kyle walk into the diner. Both of them looked like hell with bags under their eyes, dirt all over them, and different forms of cuts and bruises. I then realized that Stan and (Y/N) were the two people that I hadn't seen all day, and seeing their state, my heart instantly sank.

"I wonder what happened to them..." Henrietta whispered.

"Probably some dumbass normy shit," Michael bluntly replied.

Stan's eyes scanned the diner until he saw us. His face lit up when he made direct eye contact with me. Without hesitation, he came over to our table with a panicked look on his face.

"Pete! (Y/N) is in the hospital," he informed us.

My body froze, and I could feel my heart pounding. I heard Stan's words, but it was as if they had put me in shock. Everyone was looking at me, and I couldn't even think.

"Um...okay?" I managed to say, trying to seem uninterested.

"She won't wake up," Kyle added.

"Why would I care?" I instantly questioned, the hostility beginning to form in my words.

I knew I was about to act under pressure, but I didn't have any other choice. It was I either do this, or I lose my entire way of life.

"I though you care..." Stan mumbled in disbelief.

I glanced to Michael who seemed angered by the situation. Fickle and Henrietta were also staring in confusion, and I knew what I had to do.

"Care?!?" I laughed loudly. "Why could I EVER care about one of you? Look, I can't help the fact that she liked the idea of some tortured edgy guy, but let's get one thing straight. I will NEVER care about one of your conformist buddies. I'm my opinion, this is great news. It's one less Taylor wannabe living an absolute pointless life. Why don't you go ask someone who cares?"

Stan stared me straight in the eye. He looked like he was going to deck me straight in the face, and I honestly wished someone would have for the words that just came out of my mouth. But knowing who was all watching me, my stone-cold face didn't waver.

Stan frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped himself short, "...let's just get out of here, Kyle."

Kyle gave his best friends a regretful look, but the two walked out of the diner with their heads down low. However, I still wasn't in the clear, as I still had three sets of eyes glued to me.

"Did you really mean that Pete?" Michael asked in his usual bored tone.

"Why else would I say it?" I responded to him, looking him dead in the eye.

Neither of us looked away from each other, as if we were stuck in an eternal glare, and I can't help but wonder how long we would've stayed like that if Henrietta didn't say anything, "well, this night got really weird, and I'm going home. Pete, give me a ride?"

Great now Michael's going to have two reasons to persecute me. This night just keeps getting better and better...it's whatever. The sooner I get her home the sooner I can get to the hospital.

I nodded her direction, avoiding Michael's gaze. We all dispersed from the diner, Henrietta and I getting into my car. We didn't speak on the way to her house. I just played music, and we bother seemed fine with that. I assumed she was going to ask me about what happened back at the diner, but maybe, she just didn't want Michael to her home.... oh, how that was wishful thinking.

However, when she did speak, the only moment she spoke, it was short and blunt, just before she got out of the car, not even giving me the chance to respond.

"You better go see her," Henrietta spoke as she got out of the car.

I tried to respond to her, but she had already closed the door and started to walk away, leaving me alone with my own thoughts. I knew she was right, and I didn't have to time to think about anything else at that moment. Truth was that (Y/N) was hurt, and I needed to be there.

I quickly turned my car around and made my way to Hell Pass Hospital.

I have to make this right.

As soon as I walked in, I went straight to the front desk. "I need to know what room (Y/N) (L/N) is staying in."

"Sir, visiting hours are not permitted—"

"You really think you are going to stop me from seeing her?!?" I growled, slamming the desk.

The receptionist instantly flinched. "I-I apologized. Sh-she's in room 304."

I gave her a nod and made my way to the elevator. Anxiously, I continued to press the up button, but the elevator took it's time coming. It took even longer to get the third floor, but once I was there, I sprinted to her room, only to find both of her grandparents sitting there, looking at her sleeping figure with sad eyes.

Surprised to see me, her grandfather jolted up to greet me, "Oh, hello? Do we know you?"

They both looked tired, and I could tell that they had been here for a while.

"I'm a really good friend of (Y/N)'s," I told them. "I came as soon as I heard the news."

Both greeted me with a smile, which I tried to return the best I could, but it was clear that I was uncomfortable. However, their attention wasn't on me. It was on her, who was asleep peacefully in her bed. I looked back to her grandparents. They looked so tired.

"Hey, I know you guys are worried..." I spoke to them, barely getting their attention. "But, if you two want to go home, I can stay here with her. I'll give you number even if you like, but don't worry...I wouldn't let anything happen to her..."

Her grandfather looked skeptical, but her grandmother accepted the offer. I gave the cell phone number, and they left. Once we were alone, I instantly went over to her. She had a large bruise on her head along with some bandaging. I let out a sigh and sat down next to her, taking her hand in mine.

I shouldn't even be here. If she wakes up and I'm here, who knows what will happen...but I can't leave her alone either. It was my fault she was in this mess. She would've never left school today if I wouldn't have...I need to stop. I won't love her. I can't...

I looked down to her sleeping figure, as I sat next to her. Trying to get out of my own thoughts, I took her small hand in my left hand, and I took out my notebook- hoping to find some self-clarity in all of this.