Baby-Blues | Peterick

Baby-Blues

The baby-blues that lived across the way. That was my favorite part about summer in the family's summer home. He may be some poor kid from the area that my family didn't want me associated with but he was much too captivating.

I'd never actually talked to baby-blues before but I did like to watch him when he'd do all the things I was never allowed to do. I watched him growing up, living vicariously through him somewhat.

We pull up to the gate and I spot the boy immediately. He'd changed a lot since last summer. I mean, I had too but not as much as the pretty baby-blues. His hair had gotten so long and his stupid 'I heart bingo' had wasn't atop his head and he seemed to have lost some weight.

As for me, my hair was now only black, still a shitty emo fringe and I still have the too dark eyeliner around my eyes. This was my form of rebelling against my parents strict rules. I couldn't do much else.

We pull in and as soon as I get my stuff inside I run over and sit up on the giant walls that surround the house. I'm down near the gate, which I wonder why I don't just hop over at this point.

Baby-blues notices me and smiles, giving a gentle wave. I almost fall off the wall as my heart skips a beat. I wave back and I see him get excited.

"Hey! Emo boy!" He calls and swoon at his pretty voice.

"Yes?" I call back to him.

"I accidentally flew my drone into your yard! Could you just toss it back? It's over there somewhere!" He points to the opposite side of the yard.

"Yeah! Okay!" I jump down off the wall and hurry to find his drone. I think it's a thing like mine, huge with a camera. Though I find a small one, a very small one. It's white and grey with neon green propellers.

I frown at it and pick it up, looking it over in my hands for a moment before jumping back up onto the wall. The boy's now stood below me and I sit down, handing him the toy.

"Thanks!" He grins, "I owe you one!"

He runs off and I'm left with a mouthful of words that are trapped in my lungs.

"Bye, Baby-blues." I finally say, much too soft once he's already long gone.

"Peter! What are you doing?! Get in here and unpack and get dressed for dinner!" My mother shouts at me from the doorway. I huff and jump off the wall, slowly making my way back to the house.

Dinner is just as awful as always. The family barely talking, when the do it's nothing or a crack at my appearance and comparing me to my siblings.

I'm always the first done and the first to run off and do anything but be at that table. But tonight my mother calls me back.

"What? I'm kind of busy." I huff.

"We've found a very lovely young lady for you." She smiles up at me and I feel sick at the thought of even having feelings for a girl.

"Not interested." I make a face as I turn away from the table.

"Peter Wentz! What are you talking about!? You have no say in this!" My mother speaks in her posh 'rich' person voice.

"Too bad, I'm not dating her. You already control every other part of my life, you're not having this one." I insist.

"Peter! You do not speak to your mother like that! To your room!" My father points to the stairs.

"Okay, whatever. Just don't dictate who or what I'm forced to be with." I hiss and stomp up the stairs. Every single day I get told 'look at this pretty girl!' or 'Oh! Peter, look at her!' and my favorite, 'Isn't she a pretty one, you should talk to her!'