Built To Last

Ch. 4

AN: so i managed to write this one in only tom's pov so there's that lol

Tom’s POV:

“And I’m supposed to buy that you’re from 2022?” He laughed, only half joking. When y/n simply scowled in response he realized maybe she wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

“Yeah, smartass, because you know it’s true,” she replied. Her voice was painfully monotone.

“I think the problem here is that we both think we’re telling the truth, so the only way to really decide this,” he paused for dramatic effect, “is to prove our points somehow.”

“I’ll go first!,” she burst out, “Now where did I put my phone?”
“Phone? What do you mean?” Tom asked, confused…again. How did she carry it with her? Where was she planning on putting the chord?

“Yeah my phone. Oh! I put it in my back pocket,” y/n said, “here we go.” She pulled out her phone, to the utter bewilderment of Tom. He knew what a phone was, and it definitely was not that.

“Whatdya call that? Weird lookin’ phone if I ever saw one,'' his confusion soon twisted into curiosity, “Where’s the chord?” It looked like no other phone he’d ever seen.

“Ha ha very funny,” she said, obviously not convinced he didn’t know what her phone was, “now here take a look at this calendar.” She took the weird box thing she said was a phone and turned it to face Tom. He looked, and sure enough there was a screen showing a calendar with the year labeled ‘2022.’
“Uh ok yeah that’s pretty good evidence actually,” Tom said slowly, “but the only problem is that I’m still sure I’m right.”

“Hey I know how we can settle this! I’ll ask someone else,” she paused to make annoyingly judgmental eye contact, “someone unbiased.” Tom shrugged and stood up. Appearing to take this as a sign of agreement, Y/n started off towards a young woman with a stroller who was just down on the next block. This was sure to be interesting.

“Excuse me ma’am,” she said, “I’m so sorry to bother you but my friend and I are having a little trouble agreeing on something.” Did she just call him her friend? Hooo boy, was he in it now.

“Of course sweetie, how can I help you?” the young woman replied. She was sweet, and somehow unbothered by their shenanigans. All of a sudden Tom recognized her as a friend of his mother’s.

“Well, this sounds really silly I apologize, but we can’t seem to agree on what year it is,” Y/n said, her face reddening slightly. Tom was proud of his work, he had officially gotten her into an uncomfortable situation- sort of a rite of passage with him. He decided it was an alright time to walk over and join in the conversation now.

“Oh that is a funny argument, it’s 1966 dear,” the woman replied, trying not to laugh. “Oh hi there Tom! How’s Mrs. Petty been? I haven’t heard from your mother in the longest time.”

“Hey Mrs. Jones, my ma’s alright, how’ve you and the baby been?” he replied, ever the gentleman. By the look on her face, he could tell his politeness surprised Y/n.

“Thank you so much for your time ma’am,” she said quickly, “again, I’m so sorry to bother you.” Parting from the woman, Y/n seemed to go through the 5 stages of grief twice. Tom had certainly noticed she was stubborn, and it would seem he would get the pleasure of seeing just how sore of a loser she was.

“So Ms. Y/l/n,” he started, a stupid grin spreading across his face, creasing the corners of his eyes and raising his eyebrows slightly, “how does it feel here in 1966?”

“Shitty,” she responded before mocking, “Mr. Petty.”

“Ah yes, a double win,” he sighed in content. For that he got an elbow to the rib.

“More like double homicide,” y/n huffed, “So I’m in the past, in a different state, with a young Tom Petty.”

“As opposed to an old me?” he quipped.
“As opposed to a dead you,” she deadpanned back. Tom’s joking around wasn’t making her feel any better. He understood why though. She did seem to be very confused. In a weird place and apparently weird time (he figured he’d leave that for later, she had a lot on her plate) and though he wasn’t sure why she was so confused about who he was he could see it was making her upset.

The distant hoot of an owl brought him out of his head and reminded him, once again, of the trouble he was now sure to face at home. Checking his wristwatch, he realized his dad would be home in 10 minutes, and he was a 15 minute walk from home. He’d better leave, and now.

“Look I know you’ve got a lot going on,” he started uneasily, now that the time had come to ask her to go with him he found it very hard to do.

“Oh really?”

“Not now y/l/n. I wanted to ask, since you don't seem like you have anywhere to go and I’ve got to get running home, if you maybe wanted to rent a room at my place for say like $0?” he began to ramble now before she could say no, “See we’ve got a guest room you can use and nobody’ll even know you’re there and I’ll bring you meals, all secret and stuff and we can hang out at night if you get lonely and it’ll be somewhere safe for you to stay. Oh and we have an AC!” Halfway through his rambling a smile found its way into her lips. “Finally,” he thought.

“Tom, as frustrating as you are, you also might just happen to be a lifesaver,” she laughed. Tom thought he could die happy if he just heard her laugh again. It was the. best. sound. ever.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, wanting to make sure.

“Tom, are you kidding me? Of course it’s a yes!”