Bullied [Peterick]

16

~Pete's POV~

As soon as I got home from the bar, I dialed Patrick's phone number. He didn't pick up the first time and I was sent straight to voicemail. I ended the call and tried him again right away. This time he answered.

"H- hello?"

"Oh god, Patrick!" I blurted, surprising even myself at how loud I spoke. I was still drunk from being with Brendon and Sarah all night, but I wanted to try to help him even through my slurred words. I tried my best to sound as sober as I could but I knew it was a long shot. "How are you?"

"Tired," he stated simply in a raspy voice. It sounded like he had been crying but I didn't want to bring it up.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" I asked.

Patrick's voice remained quiet. "No."

If I didn't wake him, he must have been crying. I hope he wasn't crying. "Did he hurt you?"

"No."

His short answers were driving me crazy. All I wanted was to know that I didn't fuck up by going to the bar when I should have been available to help Patrick. "Are you okay?"

"No." Before I could ask him another question, he changed the subject. "How was your night?"

Being in the state I was in, I didn't even question it. If I wasn't still buzzed, I wouldn't have let it go so easily. "It was alright, I went out with a couple of friends from when I was in school. I'm sorry I didn't text you back right away."

"It's okay. You sound like you had fun," Patrick said. "Were you guys drinking?"

Shit. He could tell. "A little bit," I lied.

"A little bit," he repeated with a soft chuckle. I smiled to myself. He knew I was lying but he wasn't upset with me.

"Okay, fine," I grinned. "I went to a bar with my friend Brendon and his wife Sarah. We have all known each other for a long time and they ended up getting married. I drank way too much and ended up puking in the bathroom at the bar while Brendon and Sarah danced!" As soon as I said it, I knew that telling him about his teacher drinking at a bar was inappropriate. I internally kicked myself for going too far over the line of professionalism.

Patrick laughed a little and my heart fluttered. The pang of regret vanished instantly when I heard him because I was able to make him laugh in such a difficult situation. "Rookie," he teased. "What were you drinking?"

"Shut up," I joked lightheartedly. "Whiskey mostly, but I think a few of them were tequila."

"You were doing shots?" He asked in a surprised tone.

"Mmhm," I grinned into the phone. "I'm never drinking like that again, I'll tell you that much. I hate throwing up."

"That's what they all say." I could hear the smile in Patrick's voice. "Then they do it again."

"You're right, Brendon will probably bring me out and get me drunk again. His tolerance is so much higher than mine. Sarah was smart and slowed down. She was drinking mixers instead of trying to keep up with us. I should have done that too." I stopped myself from talking as soon as I felt myself rambling.

Patrick chuckled. "Brendon sounds fun."

"Oh, he is! We used to get into so much trouble when we were younger. I can't even believe some of the shi- stuff we pulled! You have to meet him sometime. He'd really like you. Everyone would really like you. It's hard not to like you." I cut myself off again before I said too much. I was stretching my professionalism line really thin. Introducing my students to my friends would definitely cross some kind of a boundary, wouldn't it? I've never been in this situation before.

Patrick remained silent on the other end of the phone. Did I say something wrong? Did I upset him? I thought I was being nice!

"Are you there?" I finally asked.

"Yeah, I'm here," he sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"I wish everyone liked me," he sighed sadly. "It feels like no one likes me."

"I like you, Patrick," I beamed. "I think you're smart, funny, extremely caring, understanding, you're a whiz about music and I totally think we should start a band or something. You're passionate, ambitious, strong, and I hope you know how adorable you are."

Patrick stayed quiet on the other end until he whispered, "thanks."

"And I'm not kidding about starting a band, I think it would be fun!" I exclaimed. "It was nice talking with you, but I need to go to bed and sleep off these damn shots. Feel free to text or call any time you need to. Goodnight, Patrick."

"Goodnight, Pete. Thanks for everything. Hope you don't feel too hungover tomorrow morning," he chuckled before hanging up the phone.