Peterick//More Than You Bargained For

sixteen: ouija

"Do you want to see a movie today?" Pete asks me the next morning, waking me from my slumber.

"A movie?" I groan, turning over in Pete's bed. "Too tired." I hide under the covers as he throws open the blinds.

"Thirteen hours of sleep not enough, huh?" Pete asks, chuckling.

"What? What time is it?" I peek my head out from under the covers to look at him.

"Noon, Patrick. I've been awake since nine."

I sigh and sit up in bed. Maybe it's time I get up. "Yeah, a movie sounds good. What are you thinking?"

"You'll have to wait and find out," Pete says with a wink.

"It better not be a scary movie." I raise my eyebrows.

"Why not?" Pete challenges.

"I hate scary movies. They freak me out."

Pete rolls his eyes and grabs my hands, dragging me out of bed despite my protests. "That's because scary movies are supposed to be scary, dumbass. Get dressed, I'll grab you something to eat."

Pete exits the room, giving me a chance to change out of sweatpants to blue skinny jeans and a white shirt. When Pete enters with a plate of toast, I'm looking in the mirror while peeling off the bandages from my cuts.

"My face hurts," I complain to him.

"Let me see," Pete says, setting down the plate on his desk. I turn towards him.

The boy studies my face for a moment. "Look what he did to you." He says softly. There's a small bruise on my cheek, and the cut on my nose has scabbed up.

He turns around and shuffles through his drawers to find a couple bottles of foundation. He compares them to my skin, then places some of the liquid from the bottle onto his fingertip. He spreads it gingerly over my cheek.

Once done, I turn to look in the mirror. The bruise has been hidden away by the makeup that Pete applied on my cheek.

"Thank you," I say wholeheartedly.

The boy kisses my nose softly in response. "And that's for the scab. All better now."

I smile and look in the mirror, trying to figure out what to do with my bed head.

Pete suddenly shoves the plate of toast into my hands and says, "Let's go."

"But my hair-" I protest.

Pete drags me out of the door, telling me that it looks fine. "We're gonna be late for the movie," he whines, pulling me along.

I smile at his concern for being on time. "You're cute." I tell him.

"Get in the car."

We arrive at the movie theatre.

Pete walks up to the cashier and states, "Two for the 12:45 showing of Ouija, please."

I groan. "I said no horror movies!"

Pete chuckles as he pays for the tickets. "Don't worry, you can hug me whenever you get scared. It'll be adorable."

I roll my eyes. "I'm gonna be clinging onto you the entire time."

The theatre is half full, and we sit in the very back row, which is empty except for us.