A Conformist Love Story (Part 2): Goth Kid Pete x Reader

Chapter Eight

*Pete's P.O.V.*

I vowed to myself that (Y/N) was going to become a priority. I had wasted too much time trying to make sure things stay hidden. She was just too amazing to lose.  She had gave me so much to look forward to. So, I sat under the home bleachers watching what I could of the game.  Everything felt good. (Y/N) was playing amazing, and the game wasn't going to last too much longer- not that I didn't like being there, but I didn't like hiding under the bleachers for anything.

"What are you doing here?" a voice from the dark asked.

I knew that voice too. There was no way to mistake if for anyone. It was Mike.

I couldn't help but just stare at him. I had no idea what to say. No one was supposed to be here.

Mike let out a blunt laugh. "Well, what is it? Got a secret achilles heel for volleyball?"

I still said nothing, not having a single thing that made sense for me to be here.

His playful look started to fade. "Oh my God, does Michael know you have a secret love for this?"

"I do not have a secret love for volleyball," I snarled.

"Oh, then what is it that you are doing here?" he pressed. "A girl I suppose?"

"Look Mike, go home. Find some friends. I don't care just leave it alone," I threatened. 

"Well well well, I think it may be a girl," Mike commented.

I pushed him against the wall rapidly, causing the bleachers to rattle. "I'd advise you to leave your goddamn mouth shut before I break your faggy, plastic fangs out. Because we both know that I won't hesitate."

He nodded before I dropped him. "It's for that new girl, isn't it?" 

I quickly turned back around to hit him but he ran off too fast.

Oh fuck, I need to go find him.

I looked through the bleachers and saw (Y/N) get another kill. I felt so shitty but had to find him. I quickly ran down the bleachers on my journey to murder the faggy Vamp kid.