five: run dry

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A/N
Hey guys, I just went though and did some general light editing on the chapters before this. If you don't want to re read those chapters, just know that Patrick's mom is a drunk & she's gonna be home when Pete and Patrick come from school.
Enjoy this chapter :)
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Once the bell rings at the end of the day, I take my time to walk down the hall to my locker.

I really don't want to be with Pete right now.

I make my way to the front of the school, where Pete is waiting for me. When he sees me he smiles. "Off we go?"

I nod in the direction of the door, and open it for him. He quietly thanks me and walks ahead of me.

Before I take to his side, my eyes waft down to his butt.

Pete always had a nice butt.

I shake my head.

What the fuck am I doing?

I walk next to him silently, pushing that thought wayyy out of my mind.

Pete is my enemy. You can't stare at your enemy's ass.

He isn't saying anything, which kind of surprises me. He's always talking, whether or not you want him to. He seems to be holding back from saying something.

I don't address the tension, instead fidget with my phone, sliding the keyboard in and out as we walk in silence for a couple minutes.

The only sound being made is Pete's shuffling footsteps and my keyboard clicking as I play with it.

I hear Pete draw in a deep breath beside me. He says to me, "Patrick, can we talk about what happened freshman year?"

Ah.

So that's what he's been suppressing.

"What's there to say? My best friend took my crush for himself. Without permission."

Pete chuckles and shoots back, "Mind you, I also had a crush on him, and I didn't know I needed permission from you to interact with certain people."

"You literally said that I could have him for myself. You lied."

"Seriously?" Pete scoffs, "I was being sarcastic. I was pissed because you, so arrogant and full of yourself, wouldn't stop bragging about how much he liked you and not me. That hurt me, Patrick. It would hurt anyone. And it hurt even more because my best friend was doing it to me."

"Don't turn this around to say that it was my fault. You were the one who kissed Brendon right in front of me the next day."

"Yeah, and the day after that, we broke up. So really, none of it mattered, because you could've easily asked him out the moment we stopped dating. And let me tell you, he would've said yes, because I was always jealous of the way he looked at you, of the way he very obviously admired you. So don't give me any of that 'You ruined my chance' bullshit because he'd have taken you any day of the week, but was too afraid to admit it."

I don't respond. Is he right? Was it my fault that I never even tried with Brendon? Since the moment Pete betrayed me, I separated myself from that entire group. If I had just waited a few days for it to blow over, would everything be better? Would me and Brendon be together? And what's this about Brendon "admiring" me?

Suddenly I become very interested in my shoes.  I look at the dirty laces. And dusty sides. I should probably clean them, maybe throw them in the washer when I get home.

I stop thinking about shoes when I feel Pete looking at me.

Pete continues when he realizes that I'm not going to say anything in my defense. "Also, it was a dick move for you to distance yourself from me like that. It sucked losing my best friend from a silly mistake, and I never even got to explain myself or apologize. You shut yourself off from me and the other guys. Do you know how much that hurt me, Patrick?

Not a word leaves my lips in response. How am I supposed to respond to this?

"Thank you for telling me your side of the story."

Pete raises his eyebrows. "And that's all?"

"Well what am I supposed to say? Do you expect me to take the blame for all of this? No, this wasn't just my doing; it was yours, too, and you fail to admit it. You were the one who drove me away from you and Brendon. I'm not apologizing."

Maybe I'm being stubborn, maybe not. But I don't care. Pete cannot expect me to say sorry for something that he caused.

At this point, we're on my front porch and I'm unlocking my door. As it swings open, I see my mother passed out on the couch, same as yesterday. However, this time there are beer bottles littered all over the floor; at least 15. They're all empty, spare one that has spilled on the couch, soaking her shirt in the process.

I find myself by her side in less than a second, not knowing how I got there, shaking her arm. She doesn't respond. "Mom?" I ask, beginning to panic. I shake her harder when she doesn't respond.

"Patrick, calm down, I'm sure she's fine-"

"No." I declare, "Pete, she's a small person, she has a low tolerance of alcohol, and she could have alcohol poisoning. I will not calm down if my mom could be hurt."

I continue to shake her while saying her name. "She isn't waking up," I say shakily. I put my hands to my head, trying to figure out what to do.

I vaguely feel hot tears running down my face as I scold myself.

This is your fault. If you had come home sooner, you could've stopped her, and this wouldn't be happening.

Pete is at my side now, holding my arm. "Patrick, breathe. You're hyperventilating."

I ignore him and grab her wrist, pressing 2 trembling fingers against it.

My breath stops short.

"She doesn't have a pulse."

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A/N
yoooo shit man !!!
I heard my cat meowing earlier but he walks around the house and cries for no reason all the heckin time, so I just ignored him and turned up fob.

If you enjoyed this chapter (which i hope you did), go ahead and drop a vote to show some support ;)

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