when the party's over, hockstetter 𝜗𝜚

iv. i don't know her

❨ WHEN THE PARTY'S OVER ❩
CHAPTER FOUR:
I DON'T KNOW HER

‧ : *: ‧ °✧

patrick walks down the hall with his head down, as usual. the only difference is that this time, he's trying not to cross paths with a specific girl.

"patrick!" a female voice rings out, causing him to flinch before quickening his pace. he nearly reaches his class when a small hand grabs his forearm, halting him in his tracks.

his blue eyes glare down at the short, blonde haired girl, an obvious look of distaste on his face.

"what the hell do you want, greta?"

she smiles sweetly, shrugging her shoulders.

"i'm throwing a little get-together tomorrow night, thought it'd be a great way to kick off thanksgiving break...i was wondering if you wanted to come?"

he pretends to think for a second, a smirk evident on his face as greta begins to shift impatiently.

"sure, whatever. as long as there's beer." he shrugs. the short female in front of him nods, her top teeth tugging at her bottom lip.

"they'll be more than just beer." greta flutters her eyelashes, "just as long as your little girlfriend doesn't show up."

the long haired boy shakes his head, "who?"

"(y/n) (l/n)."

just the sound of her name sends a shiver down the boy's spine, his fists clenching by his sides as he hears the disgust in greta's voice.

he looks up, feeling her presence just a few feet away. he observes silently as she hurriedly shoves books into her locker, slamming it shut, before lifting her head and meeting his gaze.

patrick leans against the locker beside him, his gaze never leaving (y/n)'s.

"i don't know her."

☆

"do you have any clue why the hell my cousin ran off during school today?" henry bowers shoves patrick against the car behind him, eyes angry.

the lanky male immediately shoves henry back, shooting him daggers.

"why the fuck would i know?" patrick's guilt weighs heavily as the words escape his lips, convinced that the blame lies solely on his shoulders.

despite having known (y/n) for only a few weeks, he was beginning to develop strong feelings for her.

the intensity of these emotions scared him.

deep down, he believed he could never be the kind of person she deserved. she was kind, witty, and beautiful, embodying all the qualities he admired. in contrast, patrick saw himself as lacking, unable to measure up to her in any meaningful way.

"are you even hearing me right now?" henry shouts, snapping the boy out of his thoughts.

patrick nods, not making eye contact.

"what'd i just say then?" the mullet wearing boy mocks, knowing patrick had no clue.

"that you'd beat my ass if i even think about messing with (n/n)."

"come on, man!" the shorter of the two groans, "ever since she came around you've been acting all different. i want the old patrick back!"

those words ignited a spark of anger in patrick.

would changing truly be so terrible?

all his life, he had lived with little concern for the future. maybe it was time for a change, and perhaps it would do him good to start caring. a headache began to form. this was too much for him to process all at once.

patrick hockstetter felt like burning something.

☆

his eyes mirrored the flames, capturing their dance and flicker with a haunting, almost surreal clarity. an uncanny grin daunts his face as proudness surges from within.

henry and the others stand a few feet away, their expressions similar to patrick's.

a small chuckle falls past his lips as he watches victor splash some lighter fluid onto it, the fire immediately growing larger.

they were a little further past the quarry, just lying in the soft grass and watching an old car—they stole it from belch's father's shop—melt and shrivel in on itself.

for hours, the air is quiet aside from the fire crackling. the sun begins to set and the temperature cools.

the silence is so profound that they can't ignore the sound of a female scream, followed by the loud "plop" of someone falling into the water.

henry is the first to react, recognizing the scream immediately. it wasn't playful or happy; it was a scream of sheer terror.

henry bowers knew for certain that it belonged to (y/n).

"shit." he grunts, stumbling over his own feet. he had downed way too many beers to be moving so fast.

the others stare at him in a daze, eyebrows furrowed. belch chuckles as he watches his friend try to stand straight.

"calm down, bowers. it was probably just the losers messin' around." vic hums. henry rolls his eyes, taking a few deep breaths before finally gaining the strength to see clearly and walk steadily.

his ivory toned hand immediately reaches for the pocket knife in his shirt pocket.

soon enough the gang realizes that he's being serious, so they trail behind him.

once they reach the cliff, henry's eyes search the water frantically for any sign of (y/n), but sees nothing.

"oh, man..." patrick mumbles.

"what is it? you see her?" henry has never sounded so worried, unsettling the boys around him.

patrick nods, raising a trembling arm to point over to the other side of the quarry.

no one could believe what they were seeing.