trilogy [one-shots and poems]

VIII

EIGHT:
Wedding
(2/13/18)

Pete did not sleep. At all.

He regrets that greatly, and put himself down for it — but he knew that even if he tried his hardest, and used all the insomnia tricks in the book, that he wouldn't sleep. He was so anxious. His stomach was turning all night. He watched Robot Chicken for the millionth time until he just gave up and made himself some cereal at 4 in the morning.

He didn't know why he was so scared. The typical Pete never was never scared. Plus, Caden and him were practically already married. They were attached to the hip since second grade, and nothing would change from that, other then the fact that they now had a piece of paper to prove it. Caden already had a ring from when he proposed.

So... why?

Trying to act as if he had gotten a full nights sleep, Pete walked downstairs still in his pajamas when the doorbell rang at 8:30 that morning. His mom stood in the doorway and smiled, cocking an eyebrow.

"No sleep."

Pete cursed under his breath. His mom continued to scold him in Russian, walking through the door, Pete having to shut it behind her. He listened with a tired groan, throwing his blanket lazily on the couch. "Oke, Mama, I get it." He growled.

"The bags under your eyes, hun! Let me guess — you didn't sleep for night before either."

Pete pursed his lips. Katya groaned.

"You have pills for that." She urged, but Pete angrily crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the growl in his stomach. "You know how I feel about those, Mama, I would've had an anxiety crisis." She sighed but didn't object — putting her hands on her hips.

"Okay, well go take a shower. We have a few hours to get ready." She smiled and watched as her son stood as stiff as a stick. Pete didn't make eye contact, clearly a huge mess, biting his nails. She swatted his hand away.

"Don't ruin the nails." She hissed. Pete hissed back.

"I'm nervous, buzz off." His voice cracked, pushing past her and upstairs loudly. Katya only smiled and reminisced on when her son said that so long ago as a teenager, but this time it was without anger. She pitied poor Pete greatly, knowing that all he probably wanted to do was just get the certificates and go. But he did this whole thing just to make his boyfriend happy. Which seemed unlikely for someone like Pete, but she knew that it wasn't as unlikely as everyone would think.

Pete was in the shower for 40 minutes.

Why was he so nervous? He couldn't stand it. He hated this. He could call Caden, right? That's not bad luck?

After the shower, he picked up his phone.

"Pete." Rob answered. Pete growled.

"Can I just talk to him?" He pleaded. Rustling was heard on the other line — voices in the background. "Ah — I mean —"

"Tell him it's a cat." Pete responded, gripping his phone. Rob hesitated and was heard saying it faintly, and immediately he was met with a new voice on the line.

"Babe you good?" Thank god for code names.

"I'm gonna throw up." He replied, holding in his gut. He tried not to sound pathetic, but his voice really did come out weak. What a pussy.

"Oh, what, why?" Caden argued, and Pete heard his mom softly knocking on his door. "Hold on Mama I'm in a towel." He tried to say as loudly as possible, gulping down.