Patrick and I had been sitting in the dark of my bedroom for hours. We started with kissing, then laughing and now we'd been talking.
"You know that the word fear is not in my vocabulary," Patrick claims, pulling me into his side. His gaze shifts from my face to look at the lighter he'd been switching on and off.
"Maybe", I begin, drawing his attention back to me, "but it's in your eyes". He shakes his head, laughing lightly. "I love you," I suddenly say, knowing he didn't feel the same. The overwhelming emotion I felt toward him had been eating away at me for months.
"Y/N.. I can't tell you what you want to hear". Patrick's hand slicks back his own hair, looking disappointed with himself.
"You don't need to say anything. Patrick, I don't care if you don't love me," of course I was lying, but I didn't want to make his life any harder than it already was. "Even having a small part of you is better than nothing".
"You think that'd be fair to you?" He stares at me intently, as though trying to calculate my answer.
"Life isn't fair," I look down at my hands. I was letting him take advantage of my heart. I wanted him to. He follows my gaze, seeming to accept my decision.
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"Will you do something for me?" I ask, lying down and taking off my sleep shirt. His eyes travel over my body before he nods in response. "Run your hands over my skin," I take his hand and lightly trace his fingertips over the skin of my back and stomach, "like this". Patrick's hand starts to move on its own now, the blissful feeling slowly putting me to sleep.
"Your skin is so soft," he murmurs, lying down behind me as he continues.
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...
"I have to go". I walk past Henry but he blocks the doorway.
"Patrick ain't here yet," he points out.
"And?"
"Aren't you two like fucking or something?" He says.
"How romantic," I reply sarcastically and get around him. When I step into the hallway, I have to hold myself back from choking: Patrick is leaning over one of the slutty cheerleaders, pushing a piece of hair from her face.
"Y/N?" Patrick turns towards me and waves. I put up the middle finger and head the opposite way. My heart felt like it was shattering in two. I'd never felt so replaceable and unwanted in my whole life. Patrick had become my home the past couple weeks, and I didn't realize it was a 'rental only' property. "Hang here a second," he tells the lap-dog of a girl, his footsteps behind me getting louder. "What is your deal?" He pants, meeting my stride.
"Fuck off, Patrick," I snarl, turning a sharp corner. Patrick runs ahead of me, turning to face me as he walks backwards.
"You're crying?"
"Quite the Sherlock," I wipe some tears away and try to hide my face.
"What did I do?" He asks, genuinely confused.
"Are you fucking her?" I ask.
"Yeah, why?" He retorts casually. I finally stop in my tracks, inhaling becoming painfully more difficult.
"Just get out of my way," I walk past him and he scoffs, turning as I pass him.
"Why are you angry with me? I'm not your fucking boyfriend!" He shouts. I stop where I am, but don't face him. He was right. We weren't dating, he hadn't cheated on me. I rush into the girls bathroom and wipe my face with a wet paper towel. The door opens and I see Patrick in the mirror behind me. "Just get out. Please," I cry, completely humiliated. His mere existence was beautiful to me. I loved every aspect of his frightening and unpredictable nature. I loved a man I could never have.
"Y/N, I'm not trying to hurt you here-" he starts, sauntering towards me.
"Go!" I shout. He stops where he is, seeming as though he isn't sure what I want or even what to do in this situation.
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"I can never tell with you, Y/N. Am I supposed to hold you now?" He takes another step and I throw the paper towel basket at him.
"Get the fuck out, Patrick!" I scream, anger completely over-taking me.
"Fuck, okay!" He yells back, slamming the door behind him.
...
I walk to the library, the terrible feeling that is Patrick setting in. He's outside the library with Henry, trying to beat up Richie again. I avoid eye contact, staring at my shoes instead.
"Ow!" Someone yells. I realize I'd fallen on another student. He had kind eyes and soft brown hair.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," I apologize, expecting him to scoff and walk away. Instead he starts laughing, helping me up.
"Don't worry about it, I'm Lucas," he smiles back at me.
"Ugh, I swear I have two left legs," I joke.
"Hey, I know this is forward or whatever, but would you ever wanna go on like a date or something?" His eyes hold mine and I can't help but look at Patrick. He's not watching but he's not actively participating in the Bowers' assault either. His eyes are trained on the floor, an unsure look on his face.
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"Totally". We walk into the library together, Patrick finally staring at my face as we pass one another.
