(Patrick's POV)
That whole day we just played this game.
One moment we're joking, the next, he gets too close and my heart does that skippy thing again. At least he didn't stay the night, his mom was working and someone had to take care of Hemingway.
His dog.
The rest of that week at school was just the same thing. But these past two weeks have been hell, I kept making excuses so he won't come over.
Kind of like,
"Oh sorry, I'm busy tonight, and for the rest of my life."
But he knows something's going on, because he is my only friend. I mean my only friend. So who can I be spending so much time with? Well, my left hand has been giving a lot of love lately, but let's not get into that.
"What's the matter with you? You've been so frickin' busy, you avoiding me?" He asked, wrapping his arm around me as I took a nibble of the corn stabbed onto my plastic fork-spoon .. thing. Spork? I don't know where he came from, he kind of just swooped in like a douchey-Batman."No, I just.. I've been busy. School work, I've been helping my mom clean the garage. Yeah." I nodded and picked at my food.
"Patrick, the only time you talk to me is at school. You don't answer my texts, and when you do.. it's like one word. This really isn't like you.. What's wrong with you?" His eyes were filled with concern. He's right, I just need to get over this. We need to talk about this.
I sighed in defeat, "Can you come to my place tonight?" I asked. He nodded and sat down properly on the bench. "You wanna ditch next period?" He asked. "No way, I'm not going down with you." I chuckled. "Ugh, pussy." He shoved me and watched the cheerleaders pass by.
They just continued their conversation and laughed. I was expecting a snide comment about their short skirts, but instead.. "I hate those prissy bitches, if I had a girlfriend.. I would want her to understand me on a personal level. Like.. you!" He hollered.
I blushed and looked at him, "What?" He turned to me unfazed, "You're my best friend, I would want to date my best friend. Someone who will understand me better than anyone. Like you.. but with boobs." He smiled a little goofy.
I giggled, he sure did emphasize me quite a bit. Oh shut up, Patrick.
(Pete's POV)
Like you. I don't really know why I said it so much, but it's true. He's my other half, if I had a girlfriend .. I want her to be just like him. That's crazy, isn't it? Ugh, Is he mad at me? Did I scare him? I didn't mean to, we always joke like that.. but I guess I went a tad too far.
"Well, good luck with that." He shrugged and continued to pick at his food. "Right.. what about you? You're single." I chuckled. "What about me?" He asked. "What kind of girlfriend would you want?" I replied.
"Uh .. I think someone who understands me. Someone who I can call and they would answer right away. Someone who isn't afraid to be themself because it's either them or nothing. Someone smart, so we could carry out a conversation. Funny, a sense of humor is pretty important.. Shares my interests. I can't be over here going off about something and just have her nodding along. I want her to speak her mind.. I want to feel like my world is over if I ever lost her. Because I think it would be.. And I-I don't care what she looks like. Because with personality like that, she must be the most beautiful thing in the world. And if I did lose her.. well then I'd just be stuck with you and live in your family's basement."
He tried to lighten the subject with a joke, but this kid has really thought about this. The bell rang and he grabbed his tray and backpack, speeding off. "He's a weird kid.." I mumbled to myself and watched him run off. That's just adorable..
I sighed with an aching smile spread across my face, and walked off to my next class.
~
Patrick didn't bother to wait for me after school, jackass. I drove to his place and welcomed myself inside. "Yo, you home yet?" I hollered as I dropped my keys on the round table by the door. "Trick, you here yet?" I called again. "Upstairs," he yelled. I jogged up the steps and into his room.
He was hunched over, resting his head in his palms. He looked up at me and smiled faintly. "Hey," he sat up straight and made room for me to sit beside him. "Hey, what's up?" I sat beside him and stared at the ground. "Uh, nothing I guess.. what's up with you?"
Small talk, small talk. Nothing's worse than small talk. Especially with him, now I know something's wrong. "Is something wrong?" I turned my head toward him, he blushed and dropped his gaze. He tugged on his bottom lip and began to tap his foot, "I don't know, no. I mean, you we're acting weird and--"
"I was acting weird? You tried to ignore me for like, 3 weeks." "That's because you were being weird!" He hollered. And then came the silence. I think the silence is the worst part of the fight, it's made up of all the things we wish we could say, if only we had the guts. "I'm sorry," I finally said.
He looked over to me with a gleam in his eye, "I'm sorry too," I smiled at him, he sent it back and I pulled him into a hug. He giggled and patted my back. His body was so warm, it was like hugging a giant stuffed bear. I pulled away hesitantly and folded my hands together on my lap.
"You wanna stay the night?" He offered. "I'd love to," I ruffled his hair and stood up. He grinned and crawled onto the bed, making himself comfortable. I walked down the stairs and to the kitchen. "Patrick, where's all the good stuff?" I yelled. "I ate it!" He replied. "You little shit head!" I sighed and walked back upstairs.
"Go get me food," I grumbled, falling into the bed beside him. "I ate all that junk food myself, do you really think I have the energy to go get more?" He turned to me with a curved brow. I groaned and turned onto ny stomach. "Besides, my mom will probably get something on her way home." I simply kicked his leg and buried my face further into the pillow.
"Hey, don't kick me!" With that, he slapped my back. I shot my head up, "That hurt you little bastard!" I punched his arm. He turned to me with a look in his eyes, which meant war. He jumped up and tackled me to the floor, "Trick, knock it off!" I pinned him to the ground as he flailed and kicked.
"Not until we're even," I rolled my eyes and sat on his stomach. He continued to slap, but he isn't all that strong. "Get off, you asshole!" "Are you going to stop your bitching, you little gremlin?" I looked at his red little face. He nodded, "I can't breathe, get off." He shoved and shoved, so I crawled off and onto his side of the bed.
"That's my spot," I turned to him and raised my eyebrows, he simply took the other spot and laid down.
I wrapped my arm around him as he tucked his head into the crook of my arm. I laid my head on his and exhaled,
"Shut up, Trick."
"You first,"
"Make me,"
"I can make you do anything,"
"We'll see,"
I honestly don't even know what this update is about, I just need to post something. Sorry.
Title comes from "Build God, Then We'll Talk", by Panic! At The Disco (formally stylized as Panic At The Disco) from their debut album "A Fever You Can't Sweat Out" (2005)
