From then on, my school year went beautifully.
I had new friends, a new city, a new life. The boys had become like brothers to me. Everyday after school we all hung out at the coffee shop, at a table that used to be for one, but it now sat five.
Joe became more of a younger brother than my own, even though he was older than me.
Patrick was like a best friend brother, you know?
Andy was always there when you needed him, he always had advise.
Pete was like an older, and overprotective brother.
And it was amazing.
Pretty soon the school year was over, but everyday we still went to that coffee shop.
Brendon still talked to me, he was so nice. He talked to the guys as well, but made sure they knew I was his favorite.
Sometimes the boys would visit me, take me to dinner, or go for a drive.
But Pete always came just to talk.
To talk about life, feelings, songs, everything.
I felt like I could tell him anything.
But sometimes he just feels, different.
He gets scared, and the number of cuts on his arm increase.
One evening (the 4th of July to be exact) Patrick arrived at my door.
"Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to go see... some fireworks?" He asked shyly, rubbing his arm.
"Sure, just give me a minute." He nodded and entered.
I ran into my bedroom and ripped through my drawers.
I've got to find that outfit! I say to myself as I fumble around. Suddenly I remember I put it on my chair. I shake my head and retrieve my clothing, a tank top with the American flag on it, and some shorts.
I throw these on and redo my makeup. Patrick is still standing there, waiting for me.
"Ready?" He asks.
I nod, he holds his hand out for me to hold. I take it and we walk out.
He adjusts his fedora and he smiles at me.
We get in the car and he turns on the radio.
Good evening ladies and gentlemen.
Tonight we have some troubling news, a young man attempted suicide in his van.
Police arrived at the scene after he was found by an older man. He was found with an empty bottle of pain killers. Police suspect he had been suffering from depression a long time. He had dark hair and tattoos. The only identification the Police have found is that his name is Pete.
Patrick and I looked at each other, he nodded and stepped on the gas.
A/N
Sorry about the short chapter. Next one will be better I promise.
-Petey 💕
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Table for Five
FanfictionBrooklyn was born in the big apple 15 years ago. She loved it there, the shops, the skyscrapers, the people. Until.... her parents decided they were leaving her in Chicago, all alone. At least they bought her a nice apartment. But things get lone...
