Young Volcanoes

~Chapter Seven~

I woke up at around 8:00AM on the floor, about ten metres away from my bed. I don't know how i got there, because i definetely fell asleep on my bed, but i was somehow there, on the ground.

I picked myself up from the ground, and took out a clean towel from the conpartment of my closet. I slung it over my shoulder as i decided what music to put on the stereo. It was a difficult decision, but i finally settled for "Echo Park" by Feeder, who are one of my favourites.

I text Patrick just to let him know i'm awake, and then i headed for the shower in my en-suite, and turned on the hot water. I undressed and stepped in, humming the words to the song that was currently playing. The water was suddenly very hot against my back and i very nearly fell with my leg and all.

I took about a quarter of an hour in the shower before i finally shut the water off and wrapped a towel around my waist. I dried myself and then dressed in a black tee with an black and white american flag on it with some ripped black jeans and some converse. I sprayed my deodorant and then brushed my teeth in the bathroom.  

I also added the teeniest bit of eyeliner, because most of the time, men are not seen as beautiful. And i want to change that. I will make sure that men are seen as beautiful, too.

Well, that was pretty much me ready. I decided it might be good to set an alarm for 11:00 and fall back asleep again, so i did just that.

Instead, i was awoken by a text from Patrick.

~Patrick: Hey, you lil' sugar nugget. You fell back asleep again, didn't you? Check the time. X~

I did as i was told. 1:25PM. I had five minutes until Patrick was due to come around.

~Pete: Are you here yet? X~

~Patrick: I'll be outside your front door in about three minutes X~

I grinned. I made last minute preparations: I took my jar of change for the arcades, and stuffed them into my backpack, then i took out some actual money and stuffed that in my back pocket. I brushed my teeth again quickly, then ran downstairs and took out the picnic i'd prepared yesterday and put that in a portable cooler bag that i could stuff into my backpack.

I made it just in time, too, because then the doorbell rang. I was at the door in a flash, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hey," He said. He looked really fudging cute; He had his usual fedora and hipster glasses, but he was also wearing a big grey sweater and black knee-slash jeans and Dr. Martens, a black leather jacket, and a little satchel to carry his Polaroid. It had several pins on it from various coffee shops, art galleries, or pins from music festivals or places he'd been.

As always, he was a little ball of humanized sunshine.

"Hey," Patrick said, blushing ever so slightly. "Hey," i replied, stepping out of the house, and closing the door behind me. I kiss the top of his head, lightly, and then took his hand. "You ready?" I asked. Patrick nodded. "Yes."

On the way down to the Arcade, we discussed nothing more than music, books, video games, and art. It was a long walk, and it was hot outside: Sunny and colourful, like summer should be.

After what was one of the best half-hours i'd ever spent, we finally reached the old arcade and the pier.

"Pretty cool, isn't it? It's got loads of old games in it. I'm gonna beat your ass at Pac-man though. And your gonna have to lend me your camera, cause i want i photo of that." I said, grinning at him. "No, sir, you are incorrect. I am the master of Pac-man, there is no fucking
beating me. Not today. Not ever."  Patrick informed me, holding his hand on his hips, in the sassiest manner possible.