Patrick
April 19th
"Things have been so calm...it's like everything is...almost boring." Pete puffs out smoke.
"I see what you mean," I cringe at the smoke he blows in my face, "but it's better this way."
He chuckles, tossing the cigarette into the trash.
"You're right, 'Trick."
He kisses me, slow and sweet. I can taste the smoke on his tongue, he's killing himself slowly.
We pull away and I smile at him, his golden brown eyes lighting up.
We're sitting on a bench in the back of the school. Pete wanted some 'Patty&Pete time' after school, so here we are.
"You know, you're just killing yourself, Pete. By smoking—you'll get lung cancer or something." I try.
"Eh, I'm cool with dying."
"You can't...I need you."
And the conversation has turned more serious; or I at least think it does maybe take in a dark hint.
"Let me smoke one."
"What?"
I scoff, "you heard me."
"Patrick-"
"Fucking pass me one." I demand.
He sighs, passing me the box of cigarettes. I take out one and put it in my mouth. I snap my finger at him, not even looking in his direction. He groans and passes me the lighter.
"You light the end then-"
I light it and inhale the smoke into my lung, and goddamn that feels good. So fucking good.
I breathe out and sigh, tossing the lighter back to Pete. He has this surprised look on his face.
"What?" I exhale smoke into his face.
He bats it away, "how do you know how to smoke? You didn't cough or anything-"
"Gerard and I used to smoke in seventh and eighth grade after school at my house to...relieve stress. I vowed to never touch one of these things again, but I guess times change." I admire the cig.
I blow more smoke out of my mouth.
"I honestly forgot some shit, but I guess I got it." I say.
Pete's silence for a moment.
"I hate when you do things right."
"Fuck you." I blow more smoke in his face.
"Patrick, could you fucking quit it?? Jesus Christ." He pushes me back a bit.
"What the hell?" I groan, "what's gotten into you? You're acting like an asshole, Pete."
"Oh shut up, Stump." He stomps on his fag.
"You're telling me to shut up? You're the one who's being all pissy!"
He scowls, "Whatever."
He looks around the moist and rain-covered terrain. Little droplets falling off leaves. It's funny how it can snow one week then rain the next.
"I'm going home." Pete says.
He picks up his backpack and starts walking away.
"Hey, where the hell are you going?"
He keeps going, and I chase after him.
"Pete, please, we're fighting over cigarettes! Can't we work this out...?" I grab his arm.
