I'm Supposed to Love You (Peterick)

Hey!

Pete had given me his number, as well as Joe and Andy, but I wanted to talk to Pete more. I was too nervous. Was he going to think I was being to creepy calling a couple hours after I had just left his house?

I looked down at my phone which had Pete's number on the screen. I sighed and clicked the call button.

"Hello?" He answered on the third ring.

"Um hey... it's Patrick."

"Oh, hey, Pat... What's up?" His voice sounded like it was shaking. Was he crying?

"Nothing... um, just making sure you gave me the right number." Smooth, Pat.

Pete sighed instead of chuckled. Shit, I knew this was a bad idea. "Yeah... sorry." he finally said.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I could hear the false happiness in his voice.

"'Cause you sound kinda... um... upset?"

"Do I really?" he asked, sounding disappointed.

"Yeah... Should I hang up now, or..." my voice trailed off as I heard him speak again.

"Do you wanna come over? We can get to know each other a little more."

I smiled. "Yeah. I'll be over in a minute." I said, hoping I didn't sound to creepy.

"Cool." The line went dead as I found my keys and headed out.

It was pretty dark for seven o'clock at night. But not dark enough for me to not be able to see.

I climbed into my car and drove to Pete's. I knocked and waited a couple of minutes. Inside, I could hear scurrying and tumbling and things falling. Pete finally answered with a "Shit! Sorry the place is a mess, I was uh... doing somethings." he scratched the back of his neck and looked down while stepping out of the way so I could walk in.

"Its okay..." I said, walking into the living room. I noticed that there were newspapers everywhere... along with magazines. 

"Make yourself at home, I'll... uh... I'll go get us something to drink... soda?" he asked.

I nodded.

"What kind?"

"Whatever's fine." I said, looking down. This is extremely awkward.

He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me to sit on the couch. I heard a lot of breaking things, and a lot of cuss words streaming from where Pete had just gone.

I stood up and walked over to the door and stood near the wall so he couldn't see me.
"FUCK! JUST SHUT UP! PLEASE! NOT NOW!" Pete pleaded. Who was he talking to?

I peaked my head around the corner. No one but him was in the kitchen, and he wasn't on the phone. I thought that at first but then I realized he was clutching his head and tugging at his hair. "Pete...?" I slowly walked up to him.

He shook his head and fell to his knees.

"Pete!" I grabbed a hold of his shoulders and shook him.

His eyes looked into mine. "Patrick?"

"Pete, what's wrong?" I demanded.

He frowned and stood up, straightening out his shirt. "Sorry, Pat. I didn't mean for you to see that... I just..." he looked away from me.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing. How bout those sodas, huh?" He put on a fake smile and walked past me to the fridge.

"Stop smiling, Pete. Tell me what's wrong! Please?" I asked.

He sighed as he stared at the door of the fridge. "Look, it really doesn't matter."

"I'm you're New band mate!" I argued.

He smiled a genuine smile. "Stay innocent, Pat. I'm a monster. Don't get into my business." he ruffled my hair. "I think you should go."

"But I just got here."

"Stop, kid. It ain't worth it." he walked out of the kitchen and headed upstairs.

I was afraid, I will admit that. But the thing I was afraid of was that Pete was going to do something. I had only known him for five or six hours, but he's my new band mate. He's supposed to be a friend. I didn't want anything to happen to him. So I decided to stay the night there.

I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about Pete. He hadn't cone out if his room and I was really starting to worry. What's wrong with him? Why won't he let anyone help him?