Patrick [On Hold]

Patrick's a Sneaky Little Man

"Hey, Pete? You here?"

I woke up. Was that Brendon?

Patrick was on the couch! How am I going to explain him?

I was just about to get up when Brendon came into my room.

"Hey- holy shit, Pete!"

"What?"

He ran up to me and gripped my hands. I must've forgotten to wash Patrick's blood off of them.

"Pete did you..." He took in a shaky breath, "did you?"

Did I what?

"Bren, it's not mine. It's Patrick's. He got all cut up and I brought him back here to wash him up. He's out on the couch, you must've not seen him."

"Pete, there's no one here other than us.."

"What? No, Patrick's on the couch."

He shook his head. "There isn't anyone on the couch. Who's Patrick?"

"I met him the other night."

Brendon took me out to the living room. Sure enough, there wasn't any sign that someone had been sleeping on my couch.

"He must've left."

Bren gave me a look. "Yeah, I guess."

"Well, he did if he's not here."

He took me to the bathroom and washed the dried blood off of my hands.

"Oh, Pete.." He looked hurt.

I saw what he was talking about. I had cuts on my palm and wrists. I must've touched that glass when I helped Patrick up. Then I realized what it must look like.

"No, Bren, I got cut on glass. I didn't do this to myself." I reassured him.

"Pete, just stop okay?" He snapped. "You can tell me. Please? Why did you do this?"

"Brendon, I didn't do this on purpose. I just got cut on some glass, that's all."

"Where's the glass?"

"Well.. It's not here. I wasn't home when-"

"Pete! Stop lying to me!" He started crying.

"I'm not!"

"Fine. If you don't want to tell me, I don't want to know." He walked out and left my apartment.

Why didn't he believe me? He knows me better than this.

I went out to the living room and picked up a notebook. I started drawing Patrick in it. If it turned out well, maybe I'd give it to him. Wait, no. That'd be creepy.

Soon, my phone was ringing. I looked at the caller ID. Joe.

"Yo Joe!" I said happily. It's been awhile since I talked to him.

"Pete, what the hell?"

"What?"

"Bren just told me what happened."

"No, he misunderstood. I didn't do it to myself."

"Then what really happened?"

"Okay, so a few days ago, I met this guy. His name's Patrick. Anyhow, yesterday, he called me and said he got beaten up and needed a ride. So I went and got him. He was in this real shady part of town-"

"Okay, Pete, I've heard enough. Stop bullshitting me."

"Honest, Joe! I'm telling the truth!"

"Right, so does this Patrick guy have a last name?"

"I don't know, I didn't ask."

"Of course. Look, Pete, whatever it is that you're beating yourself up over, it's not worth it."

"Joe! I am serious!"

"I am too." He snapped.

I hung up. What the hell? I texted Patrick. Maybe he can help with this situation.

To Patrick
"Hey, whered you go?"

Several minutes passed before he texted back.

From Patrick
"I figured I should go home so I did."

To Patrick
"My friend came over and he thinks I'm crazy"

From Patrick
"Why?"

To Patrick
"Because I had blood on my hands and I told him that you were in the living room and he didn't see you and he thinks I'm self harming"

From Patrick
"Sorry and are you?"

To Patrick
"No."

He didn't text back. So I went to bed and slept the rest of the day.