Your Secret's Out | Peterick AU

Chapter 5

What the hell do I wear for a not-a-date with my teacher crush? Do I wear band merch, or something a little more decent? I decide to call Brendon since I know that I can trust him with secrets and advice. After a few rings, he picks up.

"Breadbin! I need help!" I say with a panicked tone of voice.

"With?"

"What do I wear for a not-a-date?"

"Don't you dare wear band merch if this is with who I think it is."

"Yes! It is! What do I wear?"

"Do you have any normal shirts?"

"I have a black tee..." I say.

"Dammit, Patrick, you're such an emo. Wear it," he sighs.

"Okay, should I wear jeans with it?"

"Yes, you piece of moldy bread!"

"Okay! Holy crap, jerk," I laugh.

"You're welcome; get the d!" he yells before hanging up.

I throw my phone onto my bed before making my way to my closet. I scavenge through the different shirts hanging up before my eyes rest on the black t-shirt. I gently take it out of the closet before shutting the door firmly. I swiftly take the current shirt that I have on off of my body, then I proceed to replace it with the comfortable fitting black shirt. I leave jeans that I had on before I called Brendon alone, considering I've only worn them for about ten minutes.

I run into the bathroom and quickly fix my hair before tuning to my toothbrush. I squeeze toothpaste onto my black toothbrush and begin scrubbing every corner of my mouth. I have to have minty fresh breath for my not-a-date.

When I spit the minty toothpaste and spit solution into the sink, I wipe my mouth off and go back into my bedroom. I quickly grab my phone from my bed and open my messages.

To: Breadbin
Fedora or no fedora?

I wait what seems like forever before Brendon finally replies.

From: Breadbin
Yes fedora

I slowly walk over to my dresser and gently pick up the black fedora resting on top of it. I walk up to the mirror in my room and I stare at my reflection as I place it on top off my head. Just as I do, the doorbell rings. I snatch the $25 I have on my dresser and run out of my room to get to the front door.

When I finally reach the front door, I am greeted with a warm smile from Mr. Wentz. I quickly glance at the time on my phone before stepping outside and closing the door behind me. We have half an hour into lithe movie starts, and we aren't far from the small, so what do we do for the next half hour?

"Hey, Mr. Wentz," I say.

"You can call me Pete on the weekends," he replies.

"Oh, okay. How has your day been so far, Pete?" I ask.

"It's been alright. Meagan left this morning, so I'm alone for a bit. She said that she might be gone longer than just the weekend. How about you?"

"I'm good," I say as we approach his car, a 2006 Chevy Equinox. I pull the door open and slide into the passenger seat while Pete does the same thing on his side of the car. Pete takes the car out of park and backs out of my driveway hesitantly. As he pulls back, he rests his right arm on my seat and rests his head on that shoulder as he backs out. When we get on the road, he doesn't move his arm, probably only because he's me comfortable driving that way. Or maybe he does this to Meagan. I've never been so envious of a girl in all of my life. She has it all.