Twenty Nine

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A FEW DAYS LATER...

As I start to prepare some pasta for dinner, Pete emerges from his room after a long nap. I haven't seen much of him recently; I've been at school and he has been staying at home, still recovering from his withdrawal. Seeing him today fills me with hope – he looks a hundred times better than he did a few days ago.

He comes up behind me as I'm cooking. I feel him snaking his hands around my waist and nestling his head comfortably on my shoulder.

"Hey," he utters softly in my ear.

"Hey," I say back, allowing myself a small smile.

"Are you making dinner for us?" he asks.

"I am," I reply. "How are you feeling?"

"A little tired, but much better than before."

Suddenly I feel a rush of uncertainty. Are we really going to live on our own? Are we going to tell anyone? Will we be able to cope on our own?

I turn round to face him. "Pete," I say. "Are we really going to do this?"

"Do what?" he asks.

"Are we really going to live on our own? Will we be able to pay the bills? Will we even be able to get by?"

Pete smiles, and taking me completely by surprise, he places his lips softly on mine. We kiss for a long time, his hands running over my sides and my shoulders and my neck and through my hair (for once I'm not wearing a cap). When the kiss finally ends, Pete takes my hands in his and our fingers intertwine.

"I'll get a job," he says. "I'll get two if I need to."

He slides his hands around my waist and hugs me gently.

"We'll find a way, Patrick," he whispers into my ear. "When someone's in love they always find a way. I won't give up on us...because you don't give up on people you love." He sighs next to my ear and holds me tighter. "I love you, Patrick. More than anything."

And right there, feeling his hands embracing me and his breath against mine and his calm heartbeat inside his chest, I feel completely at peace. It finally makes me realise how dramatically my life has improved. It makes me feel emotional – so emotional that I find myself crying softly.

The hug ends and Pete sees my tears.

"Patrick?" he frowns. "Why are you crying?"

"Because...because..."

I take a moment to compose myself and take some deep breaths. Pete looks genuinely concerned about me, but he doesn't know that these are happy tears.

"I am a dork," I tell him eventually. "And I've always been a dork. Before this my life was a series of dead ends. I was the reject, the outcast. I got hurt everyday. I was scared, lonely, upset. And when Kevin died everything got ten times worse. But...but ever since I met you..."

A new stream of tears escapes my eyes, and I take a sharp breath to stifle a sob.

"You're the first person to make me feel normal," I say. "To make me feel safe. To make me feel loved. For the first time in my life, I feel loved. My life has been turned upside down – I'm not the reject anymore. I'm...I'm happy. And it's all because of you." I sniff and wipe tears from my cheeks. "So thank you, Pete, for making my life wonderful."

For a long while Pete and I just gaze at each other, and I see forever in his eyes. Eventually he gently runs his thumb over my cheek to wipe away a lone tear, and whispers: "And do you know how much you've improved my life?"

I shake my head.

Pete takes his gaze away from me, before saying: "Before I met you, my life was shit. My life was shit and I didn't even realise. People at school liked me – well, they still do – and I have friends who I care about, but...I didn't realise how much I was wasting my life. I threw away my time and money on being reckless and doing things which a good person would never dream of doing."

He sighs and looks back at me, a smile forming on his lips.

"But when you showed up at school, with your waistcoat and your little cap and your sideburns...and then when Kevin died..."

The smile that had been playing on my lips fades.

"...It made me look at myself and wonder, 'What the hell am I doing?!' So when I took you in, I thought to myself, 'Maybe it's not too late for me to change. Maybe I can be a good guy'. And even though I screwed that up a few times, I like to think I'm doing a pretty good job. You inspired me to change, Patrick. You inspired me to become a better guy. And for that, I'll always be grateful."

We exchange a long-lasting smile, and then we find ourselves kissing again. When the kiss finally ends we wrap our arms around each other and embrace one another for what feels like an eternity. Suddenly I remember something...

"What about Chad?" I ask, still in the hug.

"What about him?" replies Pete.

"He threatened you. He said that you'll regret using his name to the cop. What if he hurts you?"

Pete sighs, his breath at my ear. "Let him."

"What?"

"Let him hurt me. Hell, I probably deserve it. If it means he'll get his satisfaction and leave us alone, let him throw his stones. I can handle it."

I don't want him to get hurt. But he's so brave; he's doing this all for me. My heart is in overdrive, and I'm dying to tell him that one little thing, if I'm brave enough to form the words...

"I love you," I say quickly, sounding a little desperate.

His head is by my ear, and I can tell that he's smiling. "I love you too," he replies.

For the first time in my life, I am appreciated. I am cared for. I am loved.

And I hope nothing ever changes.




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