TWISTED GAME: A Patrick Hockstetter x reader x Henry Bowers

Chapter Six*

     Eventually, the first days of school rolled around. And it rolled over you like a damn hay bail. The first day, you threw up. Again. You had the weirdest habit of doing that lately. Throwing up at random moments, out of seemingly nowhere. Of course, it wasn't nowhere. Something was causing it, and you had a damn good idea what it was. Though you'd never say it out loud.

     The very thought made your heart race rapidly. It made your tongue dry, and your leg shake. The kind of antsy shake you got when extremely anxious. You found yourself leaning against a brick wall in a large alleyway in town. Looking off in the distance as the thought crossed your mind. You didn't even realize your leg was bobbing up and down until you felt a firm hand slap down on your thigh and hold it down.

     "Cut that out, won't ya? Makin' me nervous." Henry scolded before turning his attention back to the conversation the small group was having. You didn't say a thing. You held back your nauseous feeling as the boys smoked their cigarettes. The smell used to make you vomit, sometimes it still does. 

     "Y/N...You alright?" Belch asked from across the alley. You looked up at him and realized you were wearing your melancholy expression. You forced a smile and a bright look in your eyes. You nodded.

     "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

     "Haha! Yeah ya' are!" Henry laughed and swung his arm over your shoulders to hold you closer. Eluding to the sex the two of you had the night before. A relatively uneventful night as far as you were concerned. Out of nowhere, like your sudden illness, came a feeling of boredom with Henry. Boredom and annoyance. Henry had his moments of genuine affection and value. But for the most part, you wanted nothing more than to drop him.

     Your eyes glazed over the glassy blue eyes of Patrick who held a cigarette between his rubbery lips. An amused smile crept over his lips and he shifted his place against the wall as he chuckled. Clearly entertained by your reaction at Henry's comment. You looked back at Henry, fed up. He looked back down at you and realized your opinion. Shaking your head, you chewed on your bottom lip.

     "What?" He asked, clearly confused that his review of you the night before was not being greeted with smiles and cheering. You pushed yourself away from the wall and wrenched yourself from his embrace. Shuffling off down the alleyway and to the street. "Hey! Where you goin'!?" He shouted after you. You ignored him and kept walking. You reached the warmth of the afternoon sun as it shined down on the sidewalk that sat beside the small stretch of road. In between various buildings and businesses.

     You closed your eyes and took a deep breath as the late summer airbrushed your hair over your bright cheeks. The idea came back, and you started the sweat. Your heart dropped down to your stomach and you felt sick again. You were so sick of being sick. Just get it over with, just do it. You made your way down the street, your sweaty palms stuffed in your denim short pockets. Your breathing became uneasy as you got closer and closer. What if someone you knew was in there? What if you got caught?

     Your breath started becoming shaky as you opened the doors and that loud familiar chime of the door sounded off like a fire alarm. It startled you at first. Your eyes stared as you saw movement from behind the pharmacy counter. A familiar figure emerged, creepy Keene, that's what the girls of the neighborhood called him. The ones he hit on anyways. He had a bad habit of flirting with underage girls. He'd never been convicted of a crime, but that didn't stop rumors from spreading amongst the youth. It didn't stop Gretta Keene from being rumored to have been molested by him either. You had watched the blonde drag a girl to the ground by her hair once for that.

     "Ah! Ms. L/N." He smiled and gave a short wave. You gave an awfully awkward smile back and went on browsing. How could you do this? How could you go up to him with such a purchase? He'd know, and then Gretta would know, and then the whole damn town would know. Fuck. You always liked to play it off as a tough girl. Not taking shit from anybody, independent. Like you didn't care what anyone thought or said about you. You were a damn liar.