|PIKE| "I Can't Be That Bad"

Chapter 2

A.N// Wow so much for this story being my "main focus" jsdnf I've had no motivation I'm sorry!

Pete's P.O.V

For a few more minutes, I stay pressed against the red brick wall next to Michael. Taking drags of my cigarette often, today was already stressful. I needed as many cigarettes as I could fit in one day. Because for some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off of Count Fagula. He caught me looking multiple times. I can't say I enjoyed the eye contact. Not can I say I didn't enjoy it it. Emotions are so conformist. I furrow my brow as he looks up at me again. He looks at me again and shrugs instead of smiling back like he did before. I felt apart ot me drop at the act. And my frown turned into a face that held emotion. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. Maybe I have a fever. I'm not used to these feelings, even if they have been going on for months now. I used to be able to shrug them off as hatred. Yeah, hatred. That's why I feel this right? I don't know. The other vamp kids,the emos. I hate them. But when it comes to him I feel different. I guess it could be extreme hatred? I'm not sure this is something foreign for me. I zone out if my surroundings as I go into deep thought. Firkle seemed to notice as he spoke few world's to me from the steps on my left. "Pete, are you fucking crying?" His words made me snap my head to face him, flipping my dip dyed fringe out if my face. "What?" I ask, not hearing him. Now all the goths are looking me me scowling. "I said, are you fucking crying?" He repeats himself. Sounding concerned but disgusted. "Pete what the fuck." Henrietta asks disturbed. I raise a hand to my cheek and feel a cold trail of water on my cheek. "What the fuck.." I whisper. "I didn't even notice." I think aloud. "Are you okay?" Michael asked me. Earning strange looks from both Henrietta and Firkle. As it's a conformist question. But they understood. "Yeah, I guess." I trail of back into thought. Now aware I was crying, the crying had stopped. But I still had visable tear stains down both my cheeks. Without warning, the bell for class to begin rang noisily through the P.A speakers. Groans could be hard from both us goth kids, and the vamp kids across from us. Firkle, Henrietta and Michael all stood up. "Aren't you guys skipping?" I asked. Knowing I was definitely not going to class today. I needed to smoke. "No." Henrietta began. "We've all been threatened with suspension and our parents will kill us. The conformists." My head lowered. "Oh, well good luck with the conformists." I said and the three nodded and walked back into the school up the steps into the busy hallways. I turned back around to find the same thing happening to Vampir. Wait. He never skips. An emotion wavered over me. I haven't felt this since Henrietta was practically kidnapped to go on some basic reality t.v show. Worry..? Why the fuck am I worried about Vampqueer. I thought about this. I hate him. I shook my head and took a drag of my cooling cigarette. He just sat there. Facing the side,sitting on that old off-white wall. Staring while music blasted through his earphones that I could hear from over here. He looked, upset. Worried? I'm not sure. I'm bad with emotions. I shook my head and threw my cigarette onto the floor in anger. What the fuck am I thinking. This has been life for months now. What is he doing. I hate him..I think. I reach for the pockets of my jeans and pull put my black earbuds and put them into the headphone jack of my phone. I open my music app and hit shuffle. Not really caring what song comes on. Of course, it's metal. The guitar and drums start blasting in my ears and a light sensation of relief travel through me. Good. I look down to my phone start texting Micheal as he's in Science class. I feel a hand placed on my shoulder. I expect to be some teacher telling me to go to class. I rip my headphones out and flick my head to the side to face the person. "What the fuck do you want co..nformist." Fuck. It's him. Vampqueer, Vampir, Mike fucking Makowski. I gulp and my face heats up lightly. Because I hate him, right? "Simply to talk, per se." He smiles at me, showing of his fake fangs. I roll my eyes. "Whatever." I say to him. Wait, what. Why didn't I tell him to go away. What am I doing. I hate him, I want him to go away, right? Why did I let him talk. Mike bends down and picks up my abandoned cigarette out of the snow. "This yours?" He asked, furrowing his brows at the item. I nodded. He flicked it over the steps next to us. "Smoking is bad for you, Pete. You shouldn't smoke." He actually looks concerned. What the fuck are we doing. We hate each other. We're supposed to hate each other. "Whatever, conformist." I scowl. "Just looking out for you, per se." He trails off with his stupid catch phrase. As he swung himself onto the short steps so he leans on the bar you're supposed to rest your arm on. His jacked flipping as he did so before once again resting at his sides. "Anyway." He began as I flicked my fringe out of my face, only for it to fall right in the same spot. "I actually came to ask you something." He said as his spiked brackets clinked together while he reached to pull his headphone from his ear. "And what would that be?" I asked him. Except this time, there was no scowl. No frown. Hell it was almost a smile. What am I thinking. Why aren't I stopping myself. I could swear I saw a light pink spread underneath his deep chocolate eyes. "Just wondering if you want to come to the cemetery with me after school?" He asked me. Why is my face red? What is my heart doing. Why am I exited. "Whatever." I say. Once again, no from, no scowl. An almost smile. He smiled widely at me. "Meet me here, after school..per se." Mike said as he turned around to run to what I guessed was his classroom. I knew he wouldn't skip. His jacket flapped behind him as he sprinted off. "Mike!" I extended my arm in the direction he ran as I yelled for him to turn back. He didn't hear. To be frank, I'm glad he didn't. Because I have no idea why I yelled for him. Just like how I have no idea why I said yes to meeting him. Just like I have no idea what these feelings are. I shake my head. I'm so fucking frustrated. This is so not goth. This is so conformist. I growl, remembering I don't have my lighter with me and I've thrown away my only lit cigarette. How am I supposed to help this stress now. Everything is so fucking confusing. I lean against the wall further as I scrape myself down it to sit down. I wince as the scratching bricks make contact with the skin of my back as my grey shirt is forced upwards. I ignore it otherwise though. Sitting down and resting my head in one hand. Zoning out from all surroundings. But one thing is still in my head.

And of course, it's him.