Fireflies // Peterick

8.

"Pete, I swear to god if you get us in trouble-"

"Relax, Patrick," Pete whispered, pulling up his hood. "Andy and I used to do this all the time." He zipped up his black hoodie and grinned. "Midnight snack raid is on, baby."

Patrick glared at him. "You know all the lights in the hall are on, right? All black isn't exactly incognito."

"It will be when we get downstairs," Pete explained. Patrick narrowed his eyes. "They keep the hallway lights on in case anyone has to shit in the middle of the night. It's always pitch black downstairs, cause no one's running around down there."

"No one except us?"

Pete shook his head. He glanced back at Patrick. His eyes were wide, and he was chewing his bottom lip. "Hey, don't worry," Pete said softly. He reached out and squeezed Patrick's shoulder. "If we get caught, you lay low, and I'll take the fall, okay?"

Patrick's breath hitched. "You'd do that?"

Pete shrugged. "It's my last year, remember? Why not get into a little trouble?" He grinned. With that, he grabbed their room key, pocketed it, and eased the door open. Pete only pushed it enough to make room for Patrick to slip into the hallway, then followed him, making sure the door didn't slam behind them.

Patrick was right. Pete had to blink a few times to adjust to the fluorescent lighting. Once he did, he looked around to make sure no counselors were up. Lucky for them, the coast was clear. Pete smiled at Patrick and motioned for him to follow.

They made it into the stairwell and dashed down the stairs quietly, freezing and pressing themselves against the walls if they heard any sound.

Downstairs, it was just like Pete said it would be: dark. The only light coming in was from the cracks in the blinds and the windows by the door to the building. They could make out the outline of the furniture, but that was it.

The snack room, however, was dimly lit by the light from the vending machines.

Pete grabbed Patrick's wrist and tugged him forwards. Pete began to lead the way, not noticing the small table right by him. The sound he made when he ran into it was neither dignified nor quiet.

He yelled fuck.

A door opened somewhere behind them, and panic washed over Pete. He scrambled to regain his footing and pulled Patrick along behind him, making sure he didn't run into the table too. They ducked into the snack room. To be sure they wouldn't be spotted, Pete laid down on the ground towards the back. Patrick followed suit.

"Did you hear that?" a counselor asked from somewhere in the lobby. Pete locked eyes with Patrick, who looked like he was about to have an anxiety attack. Pete held a finger to his lips.

"Yeah," came as an answer. A beat of silence passed. "Could've been the air kicking on."

"I guess it had to be."

They heard a door close.

Pete let out a sigh of relief. He sat up, then crawled over to where the door was propped open. He moved the door stop and slowly shut the door. Pete turned back to Patrick and crawled over to him.

"You okay?" he asked.

Patrick smiled. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Cool." Pete grinned back. "Let's get some food." He stood up and offered Patrick his hand. Patrick took it and pulled himself up.

With their money combined, they bought four bags of chips, two refrigerated coffees, a package of red vines, and three packs of peanut butter cups. Sneaking back upstairs had an overtone of urgency, considering they'd almost got caught, but they made it back to their room with no further incidents. Pete unlocked the door and let Patrick go in first, then he went it and closed the door softly.

Patrick sat down on the floor in front of his dresser and gestured for Pete to sit across from him. Pete did, and they put their snack haul in between them.

Pete was halfway through a bag of Doritos when Patrick spoke. "What do you want to do for a living?"

Pete swallowed. "I don't know." He ate another chip. "My dad's a lawyer, and his dad was too, so I've considered carrying that on."

Patrick stared at him. "But is that what you want to do?"

Pete shrugged. "I want to be a writer, or in a band, but realistically..." he trailed off.

"Right." Patrick nodded. He picked up one of the red vine packages and tore it open.

"What about you?" Pete asked.

"A scientist, probably. Science has always been really interesting to me, despite what my grades suggest." He smiled, and Pete laughed a little. "Being in a band would be cool, but it's like you said. Realistically."

"Have you thought any about colleges?" Pete asked.

Patrick shook his head. "Not really. I'll probably go somewhere local, though. Stay close to my brother. My sister managed to go out of state, so we don't see her very often. Not that I blame her. I just miss her," he said quietly.

"I didn't know you had a sister." Patrick nodded. Pete paused, weighing his next question. "You're pretty close with your siblings, aren't you?"

Patrick glanced at him. "Yeah...why?"

"No reason. It's just...I don't know, people don't usually want to stay near their family."

Patrick turned his head away. "Like I said, my sister comes and goes. My brother and I stick together. All three of us try to stay in touch. Make sure everyone's safe and taken care of."

Pete smiled a bit. "I think that's really nice."

Patrick gave him a lopsided grin. Then he looked back down at their snack pile. "Can you pass me those Cheetos?" Pete did, not minding the sparks that shot up his arm when Patrick's hand brushed his.