Summertime//Patrick Stump

Chapter 3

"Jen, really," I try to sound as concise and honest as possible. "It was nothing." I watch her reaction, sitting across from her on her bed. She ran into her room after seeing Patrick and I in the garage. "I was playing his guitar. He was trying to help me with my...finger placement." I look down, knowing I sound like a bold-faced liar.

Finally, she looks up. "I'm sorry." She says spitefully. I decide to give her the benefit of the doubt, as I know how hard apologizing is. "I jumped to conclusions, and...yeah. Let's just go have dinner."

I smile at her, extending an arm, and she stands to embrace me.

Of course. I should have known there would be this carb-loaded, calorie rich food. There are a million other things I'd rather do than sit down at a table with that.

Just use one of your excuses, I think, forcing myself to breathe. I probably look like an idiot. You've played this off a million times, you can do it again.

"It smells delicious!" I exclaim, sniffing deeply. "I'm not hungry, but if I were I'd probably eat this entire table." My pathetic statement earns a laugh from Patrick and Patricia.

"Go ahead, girls, sit down." Patricia says with a smile, nodding at me. I smile at her and take a seat across from her, Patrick next to on her left, and Jen to my right.

Everyone serves themselves, and when three of the four plates are filled, Patrick's gaze lingers on me.

"April, aren't you hungry?"

I shrug. "Big lunch." My stomach growls, right on cue. I cough in attempt to cover it. "Smells amazing, though, Patricia," I compliment smoothly. Anorexia turns you into quite the actress. The blonde thanks me kindly.

"Mom," Jen says, her tone totally 180'd from before, "I was thinking about tomorrow. I know you want us to bake a pie, but I was thinking we could also drop by Walmart and get some candy for the kids." She suggests.

"They'd love that," her mom replies, taking a sip of sweet tea, "but I don't think their moms would."

"True." Jen and Patrick laugh lightly, and I blush for some stupid reason, looking down from having glanced at Patrick and his wide smile.

It almost distracts me from the thought of eating with people, eating now, calories upon calories, how can I live?

I talk patiently with everyone while they eat, laughing and putting on the normal facade. But as we continue talking, I realize I genuinely enjoy their company...especially Patrick's.

No, I can't think like that. I scold myself. He wouldn't love me.

After dinner, I'm offered dessert but turn it down, my excuse being "I want to save room for ice cream later", having no intention of eating any ice cream at all. Afterwards, Patrick returns to the garage, her mother to her room, and Jen and I to the living room. We play board games like little kids and giggle like schoolgirls. I feel so free, for the first time in a long time. I had forgotten what it felt like.

It's good.

The next day is the Fourth of July and the Stump family gettogether. There had to be about twenty or so people, and at the risk of sounding vain, they all seemed to love me. At least half of them thought I was Patrick's girlfriend. Jen gave me and Pat a strange look every time someone suggested the idea, but the most notable occasion was when Patricia's mother (who everyone called 'Nan') approached us.

"Patrick," she asked, eyeing me as she spoke, "you've got yourself a nice piece of eye candy."

I went wide-eyed, staring down at my intertwined hands, and shot my glance up upon hearing Patrick speak.

"Actually, she's not just beautiful. She's quite the guitar player." He replies smoothly, with a smile. It's obviously in jest, but the comment makes my heart swell.

Emotions surge through me, thoughts fluttering around at 1,000 miles an hour, but I force myself to remain calm and not focus on the fact that Patrick hadn't denied me being "his". He was just joking.

When I go home from the event, I'm inspired to pick up my guitar again after weeks of it collecting dust. Somehow, a few chords and tabs are still in my mind and I'm able to play a few old songs.

The day after that, I want to go back.

I leave with nothing but myself and my phone, thinking Jen and I can go to the park. But when I knock on her door, Patrick is the one who answers.

"Hey," he says smoothly. He's wearing the fedora again.

"Hi." I smile shyly. Not a cute shy, rather an I'm-painfully-awkward-and-think-you're-cute kind of shy, and hope he doesn't pick up on my true feelings. "Is Jen home?" I ask.

"No, actually." Patrick replies, opening the door further. "She and mom went shopping. They should be back around seven or eight," he adds as he leans against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest.

"Oh. Okay. Thanks," I smile, push down the embarrassment, and prepare to go back home.

"You wanna come in?" Patrick says as I turn to leave.

"Um..." I turn back on my heel. My breath hitches. "I mean, sure, I guess,"

He smiles at me as I walked into the house, a pang of guilt hitting me. I feel like I'm betraying Jen. And the last thing she needs right now is someone betraying her.

"Snack?" Patrick walks to the coffee table, grabs a box of Cheez-Its, and  offers it to me, but I shake my head.

"I'm good, but thanks." It was then I could feel the tension set in. But Patrick, adorable Patrick is obviously good at this. Seeing the worried look on my face, he speaks. "Listen, April, Jen can assume whatever she wants, but we know the truth, right?"

I nod quickly.

"I know," I say, "she was just so upset when she saw us playing guitar, you know? I don't want to make her angry or anything."

Patrick laughs lightly, and I sense some bitterness behind it. He motions to the couch and we both sit. "She's just upset with me. It's nothing to do with you, I promise."

Smiling at him, I tuck my legs under myself as he turns on the TV and flips through channels absentmindedly.

"Are you in a band?" I ask, something that's been on my mind since two nights before.

"No, actually." He chuckles.

"What's so funny?" I reply, relieved he just answered the question.

"I'm trying to start one. There's two other guys and me, but we're short one drummer. We're hoping to get some gigs as soon as possible. Just gotta find that backbone, you know?" Patrick says, sitting up from his reclined position.

"Well, I think any band with you would do pretty well." I state. I'm really good at speaking without thinking today, apparently.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Patrick questions with a grin.

I shake my head.

"Nothing." I bet I look redder than a tomato.

The conversation lasts almost an hour, because Patrick is just one of those folks that's great at conversing and social cues (unlike me). Every once and a while a stupid infomercial will play on TV and we just make fun of it.

And for the second time in a week, I feel like a child again, like I used to. Happy.