Fall Out Girl: Fall out boy fanfic

Part 8

Andy sat on the couch, still lost about what happened.

"So their your parents?" She asked dryly.

"Yep." I simply said.

"And no one but Principle Meyer, Myles, and I know?"

"Uh uh."

"Wow. I can see why you wouldn't want to tell anyone."

"Exactly."

The guys stood outside to give us some space to talk to Andy. They came back inside after a few minutes.

"So this must be Andy?" Patrick said. "That's going to be confusing."

"Huh, that completely skipped my mind." I realized.

"Oh you can just call me Annie from now on." she flushed.

"So you won't tell anyone?" Andy asked.

"Nope. I'll take it to the grave if I have to."

"Fair enough." Pete shrugged.

"So happens now?" she asked.

"Nothing much. Just don't tell anyone." I said.

"Alright. Since I'm here, can we please study for the exam!!" Annie pleaded.

"Sure." I lead her upstairs.

I looked back at the guys. Then back at An.

"Oh, don't touch, burn, or steal anything." I warned.

"Of course not." she scoffed.

"Mmhm."

Annie left at 7, which gave me time to cook dinner. Pete, Andy, and Joe were on the sofa, watching a hockey game between the Chicago Blackhawks and the DC Capitals.

"Aww c'mon!!! That's some total shit right there!" Pete cussed.

The Capitals were up by one, and was on overtime. I mixed the last ingredient in the soup, and let it simmer.

"Hey, where's Patrick?"

"In the recording room trying to write a new- are you fucking serious?!" Pete screamed.

I snickered a bit, and went to the music room. Patrick was in the recording booth, playing his guitar.

"Hi." I waved.

"Hey, dinner ready?"

"Almost. So whatcha playing?"

"Um just a few cords. Not much yet."

"You gonna write a new song for the tour?"

"Nah. Wouldn't fit in. Maybe for something else."

"Oh. By the way, thanksgivings coming up. I didn't know if you guys had any plans or something like that."

"Aw damn it!"Patrick face palmed himself.

"What's wrong?"

"I completely forgot about it."

"You were gonna spend thanksgiving with your family?"

"Yeah, I usually take Elisa with me to Chicago."

"Elisa? Is she your girlfriend?" I asked.

Patrick played again, this time more depressing.

"She, she was my wife. We got a divorce six months ago."

"Oh." Is all I could say.

I remember him talking about it in Chicago, but didn't think anything of it.