Low Tide Lovers (Peter x Reader)

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

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I had been home for quite some time now as Mom's keys rattled from the other side of the door. Between now and then, I had done the remaining dishes and put away some laundry. I glanced at her; she didn't have a good day. My mother was pretty easy to read. She dropped her purse on the table and pulled off her shoes.

I tried to smile at her. She huffed, yanking the fridge open. She reached in and grabbed the new ham and cheese I bought. Neither of us spoke, so I turned to go up the stairs and to my room. I was in for the night, so I changed.

The lights from the pier amusement park flashed lights on my walls. Reds, blues, and yellows illuminated my bedroom, even through the curtains. This often made it hard to go to sleep, so instead I sat down at my desk and pulled The Giver off of my bookshelf. It had always been one of my favorites.

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"Want some?"

Alan held up a dark brown bottle of beer. I didn't recognize the label. I didn't even know how he got the stuff. Peter and I swapped a glance, Peter reaching up to take it. He took a swig. Alan smirked, watching him shake his head and pursed his lips. Peter tried to hand it back, but his older brother shook his head.

"Let her take a sip," he said. Reluctantly, I took the bottle from Peter. It left a nasty taste in my mouth and a burning sensation in my throat. I swallowed hard. Alan laughed.

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Peter stepped up to the counter, holding the gun up. He kept both eyes open and pulled the trigger. All of the stars remained. My dad used to take me to this game every weekend. He always told me that I was good. And, because it was Dad, I believed it.

Red stepped up, bumping Peter out of the way. "I'll show you how it's really done," he said. He hit every star. The guy running the game pulled the paper down and tossed it in the trash.

"Alright, missy, your turn." Red slapped a dollar on the counter and nodded towards me. Well, this is awkward. I held the gun up and closed one eye, bringing the trigger back.

One star.

Two stars.

Three stars.

Only two more to go. I can do this. I tried to ignore the pressure.

Four stars.

Five stars.

"Damn," Red commented. I set the gun on the counter and turned to face Peter. He nodded proudly.

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I was the only girl in the group and the youngest. This earned a few looks from passersby. I slouched on the bench, listening to the older boys point out girls and whisper about them. I licked my lips, letting out a heavy exhale.

"Hey, blue shirt!" One of them yelled. I sighed. What they were doing was wrong, but I was too much of a coward to say anything. The woman he called out scoffed, turning back to her friend.

"How about Peter try?"

He glanced at me and swallowed. There was a hint of fear in his eyes. I felt bad.

"Nah, he's too much of a pussy. He don't even got hair on his nuts yet." I rolled my eyes. What a childish and uncomfortable thing to say. I looked away, not wanting to hear the conversation.

"How would you know? I saw you staring at the urinals," Peter retorted. I could feel him patting the space between us. Doing what, though? His fingers grazed mine, and he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. I returned the favor. It was the least I could do; he was evidently uneasy.