Rain

•19•

Wednesday comes and goes, both boys obsessing over the weather, Pete especially. It seems to stay between 30%-60%.

But then Thursday comes.

"Thunderstorms expected to last until 3:30pm Sunday Afternoon." The bubbly weather woman puts on a perfect pout.

Pete grips his fork tighter, the waffles in front him seem unappetizing. He stands, throwing out the waffles and setting his plate in the sink. After getting dressed, he grabs the tickets, puts them in his pocket and storms across the street.

"Oh Pete! Hi!" Patrick's mother answers, she's all dressed up.

"Where are you going?" He asks politely, it takes a lot, he's not as happy as he sounds.

"Once in a while I'm called into work so here I am!" She smiles, smoothing her white pantsuit.

For extra color, she's wearing an orange belt, orange pumps, and a touch of orange lipstick. Very fucking orange today.

"Can I see Patrick?"

"Of course, he's in his room. Do you mind if I leave? His father is gone and I need to go. You two would be fine if I went right?"

"Of course." Pete smiles.

Pete enters the house, shutting the door. Dark clouds litter the sky. When he makes it upstairs, Patrick is sitting by his window, guitar next to him.

"Patrick."

He turns. Patrick is wearing a sweater with a hood. It has a dark grey torso and the sleeves are a deep navy color. He's wearing some dark jeans and black converse. He's got a black fedora on and of course his glasses.

"What're you doing here?"

"It's suppose to rain."

"Tomorrow?"

Pete nods.

Patrick stays silent.

"But you can still go-"

"No I can't."

Pete's stomach drops. He's not sure why. He expected this. "Listen, you can bring a coat and an umbrella-"

"It won't work, I'll get wet. The concert is like 3 hours in an outside venue, I won't make it without getting wet." Patrick says, not moving, not phased.

"We can make it work."

"Pete, I've tried to make it work all my life. It doesn't." Patrick completely turns to face him.

"That's the problem! We can try new things, you have to break the chains."

"You don't think I've tried?" Patrick stands now. "You don't think I've spent hours scheming plans to go out with friends or on a hike or something? I have, Pete. I've gone to hell and back and still haven't made a dent. I don't voluntarily stay inside! I do it because I'll have a reaction and I could die."

"I just wish this was another time. I wish it didn't rain here all the goddamn time!" Pete yells angrily.

"Welcome to fucking Parkdale." Patrick spreads his arms wide.

"Are you not angry? Not sad? Because I'm fucking pissed." Pete can't help but notice Patrick's lack of emotion toward the main subject, the Panic! concert.

"Because I'm not fucking surprised. This shit happens all the time. I'm use to disappointment, I'm use to sadness and anger. Pete, this shit doesn't phase me anymore." His voice is sharp. Pete's shoulders sink and Patrick notices, he sighs. "Just...take someone else."