Sophomore Stump// High School Patrick Stump fanfic

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{{Later that day in Last period}}

"And so, when I went to college for my classes in classical music and biology, the year was-"

Our music teacher Mr. O'Neil continued tell the class about his "exciting journey" in becoming a successful musician and teacher.

"Don't know why he's working at this dump if he's so great." I whispered to patrick next to me

A few seconds past and I looked over to see him asleep with his hat semi over his eyes, still as a statue

"MR. STUMP. IS THERe sOMETHING BORING YOU?" Mr. O'neil yelled

Patrick shot up and readjusted his hat. The class stared at him as he reddened quickly.

"Uh sorry. I-I didn't get enough sleep last night and I just f-"

"I. Don't. Care what happened. Next time detention will be involved young man" the teacher scolded

"Noted sir" he responded sassily. O'neil furrowed his brow, then continued his story

"As I was saying, the college I attended was bes-" he began, being cut off by the bell.

"I'll continue tomorrow. Make sure to grab a handout on your way out"

The classes crowded the doorway and hallway, jamming me and Patrick to the back.

"I got this" he whispered, grabbing my hand again and pulling me through the crowded hallway to our lockers with our handouts. When we got to the end of the crowd,our lockers were right by us.

After getting our things, he grasped me once more and pulled me through the crowds luckily getting out of the building swiftly.

"Well. How was your first day??" He asked, pulling me along next to him to my car.

"Oh it was okay I guess. I mean it was pretty good. Besides the fact it's school"

I laughed

"Well I'm glad to here it! Now what did o'neil give us for homework?" He asked

"Oh it's something about what we wanna do in the future, what needs to be done , etcetera"

"Oo fun. I guess we'll work on it at your house....?" He asked me, looking at me intently.

"Yeah I'll just. My mom gets home at 6 so we'll have time to work together"

I smiled and unlocked the car, allowing Patrick into the shotgun seat

"Wait what about your car and-"

I began

"I live somewhat close so I either walk or take the bus everyday. We're good."

I started the car, the engines whirring below us. Patrick smiled and tuned the radio the local underground alternative station and began humming and toe-tapping to the beat. Perhaps this was the start of something new.