Summertime//Patrick Stump

Chatper 6

Sitting in the dark with only Patrick and a blanket to keep me company is strangely comforting--I've never been a fan of the dark. Darkness brings depression.

Yet Patrick makes it feel bearable. The pain isn't here, instead replaced with Patrick's warmth. The movie we watched has since finished (Captain America: The Winter Soldier) and a few minutes in, I moved over closer to him, he put his arm around me. It felt natural; in no way awkward.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that." I say stalely. I'm genuinely apologetic that he had deal with me and this problem so early in our relationship. Friendship? What even is this?

"Don't even worry about it," he replies. "I'm honestly just glad I got you home before-" he falters. I know what he's referring to.

I nod without a word. His arm is still around me and it feels like time is standing still.

"The world is awful." I state bluntly. Another negative thought, just one of the many constantly floating around in my head. Apparently I can't escape them, not even when I'm with Patrick.

"Well, yeah. But maybe I can make it a little bit better." He replies.

Wow. He's smooth.

Jen pops into my mind--what if she just walks in and sees us sitting here together? Who knows where her mind would wander...

"Hey Pat," I start. "Why don't you call Jen? We should probably find out when they're getting home."

Patrick nods. "Yeah," He takes his arm off me to pull his phone out of his pocket, and some foreign feeling rolls through me. What is it? I wonder.

Patrick goes to Jen's contact and calls her, putting it on speaker so I can hear.

"Hello?" She answers almost immediately. Just by the one word, we can tell she sounds at least slightly...distraught.

"Jen, hey. When you guys gonna be home?" Pat asks.

There's a long pause between his question and her answer, and in the background we can hear a few things. A few disturbing things.

Women's panicky voices. A baby crying. What sounds like a mother frantically trying to comfort her child, to no avail.

"No idea. Probably pretty late tonight, if we don't end up staying here."

It's Patrick's turn to pause. He turns to me, and I mouth, "is Jonah okay?" He asks the question.

"Uh...not really. But, Pat, is April still there?" Her tone immediately turns from upset to playful. Patrick turns to me again. I shrug.

"Yeah?" Patrick answers, somewhat defensively. "Why?"

"Juuuust wondering. Byeeee." Jen drags out before hanging up. Patrick stares at the phone.

"Okay then." I say, totally unsure of what to say. The call was more than confusing.

"Yep."

That wave of emotion hits me again. As I stare at Patrick, I wonder if this feeling, this unknown feeling that I almost welcome, is love.

How cliche.

"Hope Jonah's okay." I'm grasping at straws at this point. Patrick nods.

"I..." I start to say. I want to say something about how I feel and hesitate, but when he leans forward slightly, all doubt washes away.

Patrick kisses me.

When our lips touch, it feels like my blood is on fire, electricity flowing through me. Like a high, and I love it. It feels so much more natural than I had expected--it's a slow kiss, with no pressure for anything more.

His fingers intertwine with mine and with my free hand, I run my fingers through his honey-blond hair. Patrick's other hand goes to the small of my back, holding me to closer to him.

All of a sudden, I realize what that unknown feeling is. It's love.

People say you can't know what love is until you feel it for yourself, and I know that's true know, at least in a sense. I know love for my parents, for my friends, for things. But this love? It's so different. And it's addictive.