I Have Friends in Holy Spaces

6: I'm A Loser, Baby...So Why Don't You Kill Me?

I found it strange when I woke up in my own bed the following morning, not know how I got there in the first place. Sitting up, my eyes adjusted to the sudden light in my room to find that there were people in here; my parents were home.

"Frank," my Dad said sternly, "Care to explain why your room's such a mess and the fact your window's broken?" My eyes widened as I looked at the window which was no doubt broken from my bed. But how did my bed get back in my room? "Uh..." I began, showering my brain for a good lie, "Pete came over and trashed it, accidentally breaking the window with some random shi- stuff he found." I hoped to God it was a decent lie; it wasn't far off from the truth, just lacking in certain details.

   Mom and Dad looked at each other, probably wondering if they should believe me or not before turning back to face me and nodding, "You better tell Pete he's going to help around this house to help pay for that window. That kid's out of control sometimes." I nodded, giving them a thumbs up, "I'm on my way over there now, so I'll tell him."

   I sat up and started making my way toward the door, but my mom stepped in front of me and stopped my actions. "Hold it there, buddy," she said, "We need to know if you're going to Mass on Sunday. You know it's good to show up despite it being better to show up every week." It really didn't take that much thought to answer this question, I wanted to talk to Father Way sometime soon and I need some Jesus in me so I don't burn in hell that much. "Yeah I'm going, can I go now? Pete and I have something to talk about," I nodded my head.

    "As long as it's not about drugs you're good to go," Dad answered as Mom nodded, moving out of my way. I kissed their cheeks, saying goodbye as I left for Pete's.

    There was no snowfall last night and the sludge had melted yesterday, leaving the sidewalks devoid of any precipitation. A winter breeze blew along, as if it were an invisible dancer, weaving its intricate way around me; I shivered, wishing that I put on a coat.

After about five more minutes of freezing my ass off, I finally made it to Pete's, walking in rather than knocking because I'm basically family. Inside, Deb was in the living room reading a book and Pete Sr. was in the kitchen, cooking for breakfast. He looked behind and smiled when I walked in, "Morning, Frank. You want any breakfast?" I shook my head, "Is Pete upstairs?" Pete Sr. nodded and I began my way up the stairs.

    His bedroom door was open and I peeked in, seeing that he was listening to music with his eyes closed; the way his head bobbed along to the beat and he would mimic a guitar solo every now and then was quite amusing. After taking a video for blackmail later on, I walked and threw a random marble I found on the floor at him, disturbing his peace.

   Pete opened his eyes quickly, looking quite startled at what had hit him. His eyes landed on me and he took of his headphones. They were a nice pair of headphones; they were black on the outside with great quality, better than those Beats headphones. He sat up and patted to the spot next to him and I walked over to sit down; there's no way I'm standing when someone offers me a seat.

   "I see Sleeping Beauty has awoken," Pete said as I sat down, "Any bumps on your head, amnesia?" "I don't think I got hit that hard, Pete," I replied, "Did you move my bed back into my room?"

   And with that, Pete broke in to a devious smile and started cackling maniacally. I felt like I said something that was part of an inside joke that I wasn't getting and then I got it.

   I lost the bet.

   "No I didn't," I started, but Pete nodded, still smiling. "Oh but you did," he sneered, "I already told Brendon and I'm currently receiving a shitstorm of angry texts from him at the moment."