Adopted [ Fall Out Boy ]

7 - Think About It

By now, the sun has gone down, and we're all lazily chilling out in Pete's back yard, but everyone's out of the pool. We're horded on the porch, towels wrapped around our still-damp selves, waiting for Pete to finish up grill a second round of hotdogs and hamburgers.

Maddie makes a face at me. "Ew, I can't believe you actually like hotdogs. They're so nasty!" She exclaims, her wavy, wet hair bounces with her head as she dramatically shakes her head with her nose scrunched up.

In return, I stick out my tongue. "Yeah, well, you're nasty," I say.

Laughing at my comeback, Maddie leans onto my shoulder. I can't help the little blush that rises on my cheeks, but I know that it can't be that bad, because my face isn't too warm.

With the burgers and hotdogs finished grilling, Pete passes them out. "Here you go, girls! Much up, we have plenty of stuff for thirds if you guys decide to go full out piggy."

I giggle in response, but say no more. After a while, Meagan's conversation begins to drift towards me.

"So, Emily," She started, "How would you honestly feel about being a model? Because you're just so perfect, and I think my boss would adore you. But of course, if that's not something you'd like, then no pressure." She suggests, casually getting Bronx to eat his hamburger.

Starting down at my feet, I think. The thing is -- I think modeling might be really fun, but I'm worried that the photographers won't like me or will be too harsh. And I'm not sure how I'll receive any kind of hate. So, in a small voice, I say, "I just don't know. Do you really think I'd be any good of a model?"

Xoë then takes her turn in our conversation. "Oh, c'mon, Emily, you sound like you wanna sell yourself short! Don't; you'd be a plently great model. You have the perfect bone structure! Trust me, I'm a photographer, and that's how me and Meagan met -- a gig we both worked. If anything, just think about it, okay, girlie?" She smile's big at me, and I'm a little shocked she isn't actually a model herself.

But what Xoë said was actually really reassuring, to me. If she thinks I'd be a decent model, then it might be time I gave it a chance. To further convince me, Maddie pipes up, "You'd make a great model, Em's!"

With a smile on my face, I nod. "I'll think about it," I confirm before shoving a hotdog in my mouth. What, I'm hungry, alright?!

×××××

We drop Maddie off at her house around 9:30 PM because Pete needed everyone to leave so he could put Bronx to bed. Talk about a rockstar party, right?

After she exits the car, I crawl back up to the front seat, and Patrick begins to drive us home.

"So..." He trails off, before regaining his point, "What'd you think of all that modeling business? Because Pete was talking to me, and apparently Meagan's really hyped about the possibility. I think it's because they have a boy and Joe's little girl is never around, since she's a quiet one that sticks to her mom, so she doesn't really get the chance to do... Stuff like this, I guess."

I sat for a moment, just mulling over the idea. "Honestly, I think I'd be interested. It's not like I'll have to be stuck with it if I don't end up liking it, right?" I inquire.

He shakes his head. "No, no, no. You'd be totally free to drop it anytime you'd like, of course. No one's gonna force you to do something you wouldn't want to do."

Another second passes, and I simply nod, my blonde hair following suit. "I think I'd love to do it."

"That's great, Emily!" He exclaims while we pull into the drive way.

Turning to him, though, I study his face. "But what do you think about it?"

Patrick scrunches up his face, glancing at me. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, would you rather I not be a model? Or do you not care either way?"

We stop at a red light, giving Patrick the chance to look me in the eyes for a little. "Emily, as much as I'm your dad and I should make sure you're doing the right thing an all, that doesn't mean I control you and your decisions. It's your life, and I want you to live it, you know?"

I nod, understanding what he means. Still, though, I'm unsure. As much as it is my life, I still care about what he thinks. "Can you tell.me your stance on it, anyways?"

Patrick sighs, laughing to let me know he's not angry. "Oh, Emily, don't be so concerned with what other people think! If I was really that heavily agaisnt it, I'd tell you right off the bat. But for matter's sake, I think it'd be a great learning opportunity."

"I'll try not to be too concerned. I just can't help it, you know? And... I'm glad you like the idea."

When we finally make it to the driveway of our home, I dash up to my room, telling Patrick I'm "completely worn out". In reality, I just have some stuff to think over and I want to do it alone. It's just easier for me to clear my thoughts that way.

Flopping onto my fluffy bed, I grumble at myself while taking in everything that's happened to me in just under a month. I got adopted by a famous dude who makes amazing music, and now I'm being offered an opportunity that's hard to pass by -- modelling. I'm just 15, so I don't know exactly what to expect from the modelling industy, but Meagan made it sound like she would take me under her wing, and I want to trust her. She doesn't give off any bad vibes, and something's telling me that I'll need some female companions in my new, guy-filled world, and Meagan seems like the best of the best. My guts never lied to me before, either.

I roll over and snuggle my fuzzy, black pillow and huff in despair. My worst nightmare would be rejection and that's impossible to no come across in a world such as modelling. And who knows if I'll even like it? I mean, I'm a more alternative girl, and modelling isn't really built for my type. But Meagan's dating Pete Wentz, so she has to be at least a little alternative (not to mention she looks like she has a punk spike in her), right? And she is a model...

My pale blue eyes catch the ceiling and I attempt to find constellations in the dotty, bumpy paint job. Those efforts are fruitless, since I don't really know any constellations in the first place.

The grip that I use to hug my pillow loosens when it finally comes across my mind that I may be over thinking this whole deal. It's not like I'm choosing between moving to a new state or staying in a place I hate. I'm basically just picking up a summer job I can drop at anytime I like.

And anyways, I should be focussing on how amazing things are right now. Like, how I have a family for once. And friends, and family friends who want me to find a cool new path in life that might just be pretty fucking cool! And the simpler, but no less amazing things like how I actually have my own room.

Taking in a breath, I scan the surroundings that are known as "my own room". A nice sized bed with a black frame, grey comforter, and grey and black pillows. My walls are barren and white, but I do happen to have a black desk that has my new computer lounding on it, as well as my notebooks being showcased on top of it's upper shelf. Next to said desk, I have a built in wardrobe that is the home to my... Wardrobe.

As great as my room is, it seems empty and impersonal. I make a mental note to talk to Patrick about going haywire on posters in the morning, but otherwise try to figure out where the hell my thought train is going.

After finding out that I have no line of plot whatsoever, I figure that I might legitimately be tired and legitimately need some sleep. So, I kick off my shoes and throw on some PJs, opting to take a shower in the morning and deciding whether or not to take up Meagan's offer, then, as well.

×××××

AN: Sorry for the wait! Hope you all have lovely nights/days. <3

P.S. I haven't.edited this yet because I'm tired lol