Mister Wentz

September 24th, 2010

Patrick scurries into line, pushing up his glasses and standing on his toes to look over the line of kids before him.

It's Friday, pizza day, and Patrick's mouth waters at the aroma of grease and cheese that hangs in the air of the cafeteria.

The third grader nibbles on his thumbnail and sways in anticipation, watching the kids in front of him recieve their tray of pepperoni pizza and move down the line to recieve applesauce and milk.

The line shifts, and kids shuffle forward, standing close to one another, trying to get ever so closer to their lunch. Before Patrick can close the gap between himself and the kid in front of him, someone steps in his way.

"Kevin!" Patrick whines, causing his older brother to twist with a grin.

"Thanks for saving my spot," Kevin sneers.

"Move! I was here first!"

His brother isn't paying attention though, waving over someone from afar. Patrick doesn't care about that, he only cares about his pizza, and no fifth grader, regardless of blood relation, is going to get in his way.

"Kevin, move!" Patrick presses his hands against Kevin's side, trying to push him out of line.

Kevin stands his ground, and keeps his eyes to the right, smiling as a boy approaches, stepping behind Kevin, pushing Patrick back in line again.

"Hey!" Patrick growls.

The boy turns to Patrick, a Cheshire smile stuck to his lips. "Hey, Kevin's little brother."

"Move! I was here first!"

"That's Patrick," Kevin frowns. "He's a little baby."

Patrick feels hopeless. "I'm not a baby!"

"Babies whine," Kevin narrows his eyes. "And you're whining."

"You stole my spot!"

"Whatever," Kevin turns his back to Patrick, leaving blue eyes to face off against the whiskey eyes of Kevin's friend.

"Move," Patrick says again, mustering up every ounce of anger he has. "Or I'm telling."

The boy's smile only widens. "I dare you."

Patrick wants his pizza, but he wants revenge far more. He's happy to step out of line and march toward his teacher, Miss Schultz.

"Miss Schultz!" Patrick tugs on his cardigan.

"Yes, Patrick?" She pauses her conversation with a fellow teacher to look at him.

Patrick points a tiny arm to the lunch line, where Kevin's friend watches with wide eyes. Patrick almost smiles. He called Patrick's bluff, but didn't realize Patrick wasn't beyond snitching. The boy taps Kevin quickly.

"That boy and my brother cut in line and won't move!"

Miss. Schultz looks to the line, and immediately shakes her head. "Of course it's him," She walks to the line, crossing her arms. "Pete Wentz, we talked about this, did we not?"

Patrick watches from behind his teacher, and kids from all angles stare too. Pete swallows hard, eyes bouncing to Patrick, frustration swirling in his irises.

"And Kevin, just because he's your little brother, doesn't mean you get to pick on him."

Kevin looks to Patrick too, wrinkling his nose.

"Both of you, back of the line," She points to the end of the line, at least thirty kids back.

Both fifth graders deflate, offering Patrick one last nasty look before dragging their feet across the linoleum to the end of the line.

"Go ahead, Patrick," She nudges him back into the line, and returns to her conversation.

Patrick feels pride for a moment, happy that he's reclaimed his rightful spot in line, but it fades when he looks behind him, where Kevin and Pete await his eyes, frowning.

He spins forward quickly, trying to focus more on the joy of pizza day rather than the icy gazes targeting the back of his head. It almost does feel better when he's handed his tray of pizza and he can visualize the prize he snitched for.

"Cinnamon or regular?" The lunch lady holds up two applesauce options.

"Cinnamon!" Patrick chirps, holding up his tray so she can place the package onto the plastic.

He carries his tray down the line, snagging a carton of milk before walking toward his table, plopping down and immediately lifting the slice of hot pizza to his lips, taking a timid bite.

While waiting for his friends, he opens up his milk and takes a couple sips, the cool liquidity soothing the residual heat from the pizza left on his tongue.

When his friends arrive, they talk about recess plans and who will be "it" when they play tag next. They discuss weekend plans and promise they'll bring their Pokémon cards on Monday.

Patrick's halfway through his slice when a figure approaches, holding a lunch tray. Blue eyes bounce up to spot Pete, who, surprisingly, has a smile on his face.

"What do you want?" Patrick grumbles.

"Payback," Pete says calmly, snatching Patrick's applesauce. "Cinnamon, my favorite!"

"Hey! That's mine!" Patrick reaches for it, failing as it is yanked from his grasp.

"Sorry," Pete shrugs. "It's not anymore."

"I'll tell on you again!"

"I'll just eat the evidence before Miss. Schultz gets to me," Pete smirks.

Patrick feels his lip twitch, anger bubbling in his chest. "I hate you, Pete Wentz!"

Pete only laughs, walking away, but not before calling over his shoulder, "You love me, Patrick Stump!"

Patrick feels his muscles tremble. He doesn't even like Pete, let alone love Pete.

He will never love Pete.