when the party's over, hockstetter 𝜗𝜚

ii. unfortunate events

❨ WHEN THE PARTY'S OVER ❩
CHAPTER TWO:
UNFORTUNATE EVENTS

‧ : *: ‧ °✧

the classroom felt stifling and muggy, the air thick with humidity, as patrick sat lost in thought.

"the equation y = |x| with y greater than zero, represents y as a function of x. true or false?" the pinched, nasally voice of patrick's calculus teacher slices through his daze, pulling him back to the present.

he slouches his shoulders a bit more, eyes lowering to where his fingers fiddle with his pencil pouch.

his peers' curious gazes were fixed on him.

"repeat the question." he means it to sound like a request, but his voice is so monotonous and low that it seems to be a demand.

"the equation y = |x| with y greater than zero, represents y as a function of x. true or false?" the gray-haired lady repeats herself, an eyebrow raised and a belittling smirk on her face.

patrick wouldn't be able to answer; the teacher, along with all of his classmates knew so.

"uhh...i don't know, five?"

as soon as he gives his answer, everyone bursts into laughter, including the wrinkly, saggy-boobed teacher.

she stalks over to his desk and slams a hand down on it, grinning proudly when she notices him flinch.

"that's incorrect." she slowly steps away, "greta, what's the correct answer?"

greta smiles smugly, "true."

before anyone else can say anything, the bell for lunch rings. patrick grabs his things hastily, keeping his gaze on the ground as he walks into the crowded halls.

he doesn't look up until he reaches his locker, emptying the books he doesn't need into it. just as he's about to walk off, greta bowie and her possé walk up perverted smirks.

patrick's hand twitches beside him as he fights the urge to smack it off of all of them.

"what do you want, bowie?" he speaks through gritted teeth. he wouldn't hit her—he couldn't.

to him, she looked anything but conventionally feminine, yet she was unmistakably female.

shockingly, patrick hockstetter did not put his hands on females, unless they wanted him to, of course.

"oh, nothing. we just wanted to congratulate you on being the world's dumbest psychopath." she flashed her pearly whites, adding fuel to the fire raging in the boy's stomach.

"you're not worth my time, you're not even re—"

"seriously? you're still going on about that 'not real' shit?"

they continue to bicker, oblivious to a certain girl making her way towards them.

"everything okay over here?" her gentle, soothing voice catches both patrick and greta off guard, making them jump.

"why don't you mind your own business, slu—"

"we should...we should probably get going." the long-haired boy's eyes go wide as he hears what greta is about to call the shorter girl beside him.

he makes a move to grab her hand but she quickly pulls away, crossing her arms over her chest instead.

a scowl darkens her face as she inches closer to greta, their noses almost touching.

"how are things with your dad, greta?"

patrick watches from beside (y/n) as the blonde haired girl's face contorts into one of sheer anger.