Low Tide Lovers (Peter x Reader)

𝐬𝐢𝐱

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𝐏eter waved, his plastic-gloved hand glaring in the sun. I flashed him a quick smile as I stepped up beside him. He leaned over to read the flyers in my hand. I held it up for him.

"Can I hang one here?" I asked. He nodded.

"'Course," he said. I ripped two neat pieces of tape off of the roll. I placed it on a power line pole by his stand. He gave me a look of sympathy when I faced him. 

"I'll keep an eye out," he said to me, giving an understanding look. I folded the last poster and tucked it into my pocket. A customer came up and pointed into the plastic bin that the fish were in.

"One, please," he said, pulling his wallet out. Peter wrapped the fish in paper and took the five-dollar bill the man held out to him. He looked at the poster I just hung before turning around and walking back to wherever he came from. I looked at my feet, taking a step to go. But, he stopped me.

"Can you stay a little longer? It's pretty lonely over here," he said, almost laughing. I smiled to myself. We stood in silence for a moment but eventually started talking and joking around. Sure, we earned a few looks from passersby, because who wouldn't think that two teenagers messing around at a fish stand was odd?

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"Alright, Peter, I should get going," I said, looking down the pier. He pursed his lips and watched me walk away. It wasn't getting late, or anything. I just felt that I should get back. Hopefully, I won't pass that group of kids again. 

The clock in the kitchen read 2:47. Plenty of time until Mom got home. I'd gladly use this time to my advantage. I could roam freely about the house and yard without her timid demeanor. This would be quite enjoyable.

I decided I would finish my book, so I sat on the little porch swing Dad built long ago. It was a pretty nice day, and I could use some me-time outside. While I read, I glanced up every so often to see if my cat was around. He never was.

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It was late when my mother came home. She huffed, tossing her purse on the table. I flicked off the TV and peered around the corner into the kitchen. I attempted to ask about her day.

"Some guy came in today demanding that his watch get returned," she started, opening the fridge. There was a can of beer in the back. She grabbed it and wrestled it open. It bubbled up and overflowed; the floor was dotted with foam. She cursed under her breath.

I turned to go upstairs, listening to her stomp around the first floor until I got to my room and turned on my radio. I switched the station. Night radio was never that good. The lights from the pier struck my walls. I stared at the flickering colors. It was somehow mesmerizing. I could never quite get over that.

The phone on my desk rang. That was strange. It never did that. No one ever bothered to call me. I wasn't really worth calling. Nonetheless, I picked it up.

"Y/n?"

It was Peter. I felt my face get hot. Why was he calling me? And why at this hour? I looked up at the ceiling. The answers I was looking for weren't there.

"Yeah? What's up?" I said coolly. A door shut on the other line. Probably his brother. I waited patiently for a response.

"Uhm..."

He sounded nervous. That was kind of unlike him. He was soft-spoken, sure, but not quite like this. I cocked my head.

"I was wondering... did you want to go to the - the movies with me tomorrow?" he asked me. My eyes widened. He'd never asked me something like this before. Yeah, we hung out. But going to the movies was different.

"Like a date?" I blurted out. Shit. Now he knew. I shut my eyes tightly, as if that would help, and waited for his reply. He didn't talk for a moment. But when he did, his voice shook.

"Yeah, like, like a date."

I smiled. "Yeah, Peter. I'll go."

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