You're a Hot Mess (Peterick)

Chapter Eighteen - Gingerbread

*Two slight heads up, this chapter is all about festivities, as in it's Christmasy and joyful and way too early. The second thing is that pretty soon there's going to be a huge time lapse bc lets face it the time already doesn't make sense so let's just screw it up more!*

"No, Pete, I swear to god it's meant to sit up like this." Patrick pauses to look at the box sitting in front of us." Look, there's a picture of it on the box."

"I want to make our own. How many people do you think have the exact replica of the one on the box? The majority of those who bought it. We need to make our own."

"But there's only enough pieces to make the one on the box."

"Creativity, Patrick; something you're apparently lacking." I tease him, shaking the small bells on my hat to show my seasonal spirit. "Oh wow, how festive of you." He jokes, straightening each piece we've been supplied with out into a perfect line of candy, gingerbread and icing.

"Did you not see my hat? I'm totally festive."

"I've heard your hat every time you make a move."

"Tis the season." I remind him, ruining his organisation when I take a bag of the candy and open it, spilling its contents onto the table.

"Pete," Patrick whines, "god damn it."

"I'm making art." I promise as I stuff the sweets into my mouth. Patrick looks at me with a fond glare and shakes his head in submission.

He holds his hands up in front of himself and leans back in his chair, "Alright, alright. I'm going to the store to buy stuff to make more gingerbread." He gives my now sticky hands and my matching sticky mouth another glance and then adds, "Candy too, apparently."

I grab a bag of icing that I emptied into my mouth before he noticed and shake it to let him know we need icing too. Patrick raises his eyebrows in disbelief, the corners of his mouth threatening to upturn. "Icing, right. Anything else your majesty?" He mocks, bowing in front of me with a flourish.

"Mom says we need to buy something for dinner because her and dad are going out later. They won't be back for a few hours..." I emphasise 'hours' and waggle my eyebrows at Patrick, resulting in him putting his hand on his cocked out hip and saying, "You are not getting my ass anytime soon, Wentz."

"Anytime soon? But I will eventually then?"

He shakes his head with a laugh before striding out of the room to get his coat.

He didn't say no.

* * * * *

Mom hands me a huge roll of tangled lights and smiles sweetly as if to say 'untangle them for me.' I start pulling at a wire, trying to get it loose whilst mom stands in the corner, watching me contently.

"And yeah, Mrs Laverty says that with the grades I got in my midterms, if I keep it up I'll go far."

"We're proud of you Pete. Really. I don't know what I'd do if you didn't want to be a lawyer. Your dad told me one time that when his sister, your aunt, was around your age she decided she wanted to be an artist... and your grandmother wasn't happy."

"What'd she do about it?" I ask, because I never even knew I had another aunt.

"She kicked her out; refused to speak to her. None of them do. Last I heard she was in Las Vegas, trying to get by doing whatever she can. That was back in '88. Times were tough back then if you had no one to support you."

Mom looks a little sad when she says it, but she doesn't say anything else and I don't ask either.

"How are things with you and Patrick?" She asks as if she wants to get away from the previous conversation.