Shipwrecked On Emo Island

◌ Twenty Four ◌

Patrick didn't say anything. He sat up straight in his bed, nervous.

The knock repeated. Then the voice again, "Patrick, I-I know you're in there. I want to make you feel better." And then a small, "Shoot that sounded wrong..."

The voice was muffled but it probably wasn't Pete. Pete was down there living it up. He was probably having so much fun with nobody lame there to stop him. A whimper escaped his lips.

"Come on, Patrick." the voice whined.

"Fine." Patrick said. He watched as the doorknob twisted and mentally noted to always lock the door from then on.

The door swung open and revealed a familiar tall figure.

Dallon.

"Oh uh. Hey Dallon." Patrick said, brushing off his clothes and wiping his tears and nose, trying to hide the evidence.

He failed. Dallon knew better.

"What's wrong?" Dallon asked, his quiet voice sounding genuinely worried.

Patrick shrugged.

"Aw who am I kidding, I know it's about what Pete said." Dallon said. "It is, right?"

Patrick waited a few moments, debating if he should admit to that or not. He was looking pretty pitiful right now, all over a guy who said two mean sentences. Were they even that mean?

"Listen, please ignore what he said okay? He didn't mean it in... in that sort of manner."

"You're just saying that to be nice."

"No I'm not! Listen you gotta trust me on this one."

"You just said that to stop me from crying. You don't know. You don't know anything. I'm probably the boringest person you'll ever meet."

"I don't think you're boring at all." Dallon said.

"Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Patrick. I'm boring, no fun, a party pooper, lame, I ruin moments, I... I-" Patrick had to stop unless he'd start bawling his eyes out.

Suddenly he got mad. Who cared about Pete anyway. Pete was just an annoying show off who always stole the show and was always the center of attention of Fall Out Boy. He hated Pete. He no longer liked Pete as a friend. He no longer thought of him as a crush. Pete was just Pete.

Then he turned on Dallon.

"Why are you here anyway? Are you just trying to get me to spill information so you can report it back to Pete? Do me a favor and get... get out. Now." Patrick snapped.

Dallon held up his hands defensively. "What? No! I thought he went too far too. I felt bad so I came up to try and be nice. I'll leave but before I do, lemme tell you, Pete likes you. He really does." he got up and made his way to the door before Patrick was able to register what he said.

Patrick's head popped up. "Hold on. What did you say? He likes me?"

Dallon struggled to hide his smile. "Yes he does. A lot."

Patrick frowned and put his head down again. "You stop messing with me! Get out of my room and stop... stop lying!"

"I'm not lying Patrick. Trust me on this one. Please?"

Patrick didn't say anything. Dallon left the room and moments later, the door popped open a crack. All Patrick could see from the door was Dallon's lips and one eye. Dallon whispered in a creepy fashion, "They didn't call me 'The Matchmaker' in high school for nothin'!" Before closing the door one last time.