(Pete's POV)
Sweat ran down the side of my face, my chest heaved and I carefully shuffled over to the goal. "Pete, Pete, Pete!" I heard the chanting of the crowd. My heart soon became then only noise as I prepared to make the shot. I took a deep inhale before.. "GOAL! YES!" Coach Ken yelled. I had shot the ball directly into the goal. The goalie held a look of frustration as he glared at me. I smirked and shrugged, suddenly a wave sweaty teenage boys lifted me into the air. "Pete, Pete, Pete!" They all chanted, I held my arms in the air and basked in the glory.
I looked around, where is he? I can't enjoy this without-- "Go, Pete!" I heard him yell. I turned my head around and saw Patrick clapping shyly and smiling at me. I smiled back and waved him over. He shook his head and turned red. "Get over here!" I yelled. he refused, so I hopped out of their arms and into Patrick's. I ran into him, squeezing him tightly and breathing heavily into his ear. "You were great out there, Petey." he said, chuckling into my shoulder. "Thanks, Pat. Couldn't have done it without your support." I replied. He scoffed and patted my back.
We pulled our heads back, taking a moment to look at each other's faces. He was hiding under his fedora and red cheeks, his blue/green eyes lit up by the setting sun. His cheekbones looked deepened and defined, he slid his tongue across his plump bottom lip, laughing lightly and smirking at me. Why am I thinking such suggestive thoughts about my best friend? I've known him since 4th grade, he's my closest friend. Nothing more than a friend, best friend. Yet I have the audacity to let my mind wander? It could just be curiosity.. it gets the best of us, right? I shook it off.
"Can we go to your house and eat pizza?" I said, releasing him. "You just played a soccer game, you want to toss back on those pounds?" I shrugged. He rolled his eyes, "Could you at least shower first?" he grabbed his nose and waved his hand in front of it. Is it that bad? I sniffed my armpits, "Oh, shit. Yeah, let's go." I wrapped my arm around his shoulder as we walked to the locker room. "Dude, the pits." he said, shoving my arm away. I just pulled him in tighter. I kissed his cheek and growled. He giggled and turned his head, blushing a bit.
I pushed the door open, pulling Patrick in behind me. If I didn't he would just wait outside. He always does that I have no idea why. Maybe he doesn't want to see everyone changing? No, it's something more. "Pete!" they all yelled, patting my back and shoving me. "Knock it off, assholes!" I joked, shoving them away. "Hey, dude." one of the guys said, patting Patrick's back a bit rough. He flinched as he pulled his hand back, as if he was expecting to get a face full of fist. "Back off my boy, He's fragile." I said, pulling my locker open and dragging out my duffel bag. "Whatever, Wentz. See you later, Prick." he said, pushing his shoulder.
Now I'm upset. I walked up to him, pushing him against the locker. "Cut it out or I will have to knock some manners into you!" I yelled, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him close to my face so he could feel my blood boiling. He tried to look cool, but in this position.. no one can pull it off. "Dude, I was j-just joking." I glared at him, "Joking or not, don't you dare lay a finger on him." I threw him to the floor and walked back over to my bag. The room was silent, Patrick looked embarrassed. I might have gone a bit overboard.
I pulled my jersey off and laid it on the bench, a permanent scowl resided on my face. I pulled on my Rolling Stones t-shirt and kicked off my cleats. I tugged down my shorts and pulled on my skinny-jeans. I stuffed everything into my bag and tossed it over to Patrick. "You got it, buddy?" I asked, pulling my shoes on. He nodded and walked out the doors. I followed him out, catching up to him. "You okay?" I asked.
"You know, you don't have to defend me all the time. One day, you won't be there and I need to know how to take care of myself." he said, staring down at the floor. I took his backpack and pulled it over me to lighten his load, "I will always be there. I know, I shouldn't be so protective.. But I love you, Patrick. You're my best friend." He smirked, turning his head to me. "And if you ever need me to kick some serious ass, just call." he made "tough" face, but it just kind of looked like he was holding in his piss. I laughed, "Yes, you will be the first one I call." I responded sarcastically, rolling my eyes.
