Just Once - A Peterick Fic

Chapter 6

        I'm outside whenever you're ready was the text that woke me up. It was from Pete and he was picking me up for a radio interview this morning. We were going to be late because of me again.

        Hurriedly, I shot back a reply. Might want to come in. It's going to be a few minutes.

        I jumped out of bed and stripped off my pajamas before rummaging through my dresser for something to wear today. I'd settled on a blue short sleeved polo and black skinny jeans. Pulling on a pair of shoes, I simultaneous grabbed a light wash jean jacket.

        Rushing downstairs, I saw Pete in the living room. "I woke you up with that text, didn't I?" he asked with a smirk, already knowing the answer.

        I blushed, my cheeks only turning a soft pink, and said, "Yeah, you did but I'm ready now so hopefully we won't be too late."

        "Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked, shooting me a funny look.

        "What? No..." I said, thinking a moment before I realized what he'd meant. He knew me too well. I ran back up stairs to my bedroom and grabbed my fedora before we headed out to his car.

        "...fedorable," I heard him mutter as we climbed into the vehicle. I could tell he'd said more, I just hadn't heard it.

        "What was that?" I asked, glancing over at him as I buckled in.

        "Nothing," he said, shaking his head as he started the car, a small, amused smile curving his lips.

        "Mhm, sure," I told him sarcastically as he began driving, both of us grinning. He just laughed but never would tell me what he'd said.

        "Look through here and find something for us to listen to," he told me, popping open the console without ever taking his eyes off the road and revealing a fair amount of CDs from his favorite bands. It didn't take me long to choose, pulling out a copy of The Smiths's The Queen is Dead and popping it into the slot.

        As soon as the music started, he smiled, recognizing it. "Nice choice," he told me, nodding slightly.

        "Thanks, I thought so too," I said, returning the smile.

        We both sang a little, just softly, on our way to the radio station. Pete did some banging on the steering wheel as if he were drumming, earning some laughs from me.

        "What?" he asked me, wondering why I was laughing.

        "Nothing, nothing at all, Andy," I told him with a smirk, still chucking a little. He just stuck his tongue out at me and continued to drive, occasionally still banging on the steering wheel. He can't even play drums.

        It took us 7 of the ten songs to get to the radio station and we made it just in time. When we walked in, a look of relief passed over the people in the room, like they thought we wouldn't show. I smiled sheepishly as if to apologize and Pete waved.

        "Where are Andy and Joe?" I asked Pete as we waited for our time to go on.

        "They're not doing this one. It's just us, Pat."

        I sighed, nodding. I liked it much better when all four of us were there but that couldn't always be the case. Sometimes one or two of us were busy or sometimes the media only wanted to hear from a couple of us. I never understood that. We were all in the band; we all wrote the music. Why did some of us apparently matter more than others?