THOSE GOOD TEEN YEARS 4 CLOSER THAN EVER

Chapter Seven: Late Night

A strange sort of desperation was starting in Peter's chest.

The two weeks apart from Em were... painful. Like knowing that you were underwater and you had to come up for air, but not being able to do so- or not WANTING to do so. It was like a really bad nightmare. Nightmares were bad, but this one was the kind where you know how things were supposed to go but couldn't control it when it went otherwise. It gave lame a whole new meaning.

Who was at fault here? Was it Em, for saying those unforgivable words, for acting like an insecure girl? Or was it him, with his arrogance and his oblivious attitude, for saying those unforgivable words to Em?

It was confusing.

He remembered the anger. He'd been like a ravage caveman at home that day, freaking out on his parents and even Adeline when they Skyped. Of course, she'd known that it was related to Em somehow, but Peter refused to speak about her. When Peter had told her that he didn't care about Emma anymore and wanted to forget her and never wanted to speak to her again (the silly things people do in anger), Addy had remarked:

"Well, if a girl can get you worked up so much, and way more than your annoying sister, then you still care about her. That's my theory." That had made Peter shut his trap.

The attempts by his friends to reconcile the two had been annoying at first, and he'd snapped at them, but deep down, he'd felt a little touched. To have friends like them was truly great.

He also remembered Luke's attempt. It had happened after soccer practice.

"Hey, dude, why don't you just let go and try talking to her?" Luke began. Peter groaned loudly, which led to Kent remarking about sexual noises (disgusting how some people could still be so perverted during a particularly trying period).

"God, Luke, seriously. Stop carrying out Si's errands; it's pissing me off." He complained as he changed out of his practice clothes.

"Hey, Si didn't ask me to do this, man. I just don't like seeing you so... depressed. Makes me feel depressed, and I don't like that. Nobody likes that. Besides, your looks get all weird."

"Does it look like I care about my fucking looks right now?" Peter growled, annoyed by his friend's shallowness while he went through the stupid, tragic teenage breakup.

"Hey, chill! I'm just... never mind. Jeez, you're acting like you're on your period. Ha, ha. Anyway, getting back to the point, why don't you just think about how she's feeling, y'know? Em's pretty-"

"Luke, it's not my fault that Em doesn't realize how beautiful and amazing and perfect she is in her own way. It's not my fault that she thinks that the ideal of beauty is someone like fucking Kelly Riker. It's not my fault that she places me as one of those people who thinks about looks rather than feelings. It's not my fault that she doesn't realize how much I'm in love with her, and that I don't care if she grows a  freaking third eye or another arm." He burst out. Luke just blinked, and Peter didn't wait for a reaction. He had pushed him out of the way before Luke could start his stupid convincing thing again.

When he saw people go through break ups- on television and real life- he'd always wanted to know what it felt like. Now he knew. It was an absolutely shitty feeling, especially since he still loved her. Seeing someone you loved but not being able to talk or kiss or touch in any sort of way, always out of distance was the worst feeling in the world. He felt really broken. Of course, both of them tried their little forms of revenge. He would flirt with some girls in front of Em always, she would deliberately ask some jock or weirdo about mundane things- things Em had never cared about before. Jealousy burned within him. He was so gone that when Em talked to a male teacher, he'd feel the horrible monster of jealousy trying to claw its way out of his stomach, and he'd try to control himself, for fear that he might just sock the bloody teacher in the eye.