Alone Together {Patrick Stump}

Chapter 4

Andy came over to where I lay. He sat on the edge of the couch.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered. "I'll sleep down here with you." I nodded and closed my eyes, starting to drift off to sleep.

As I lay on the edge of sleep, I felt Andy move closer to my head. He kissed my temple lightly, much like a brother/Father figure would do.

"You're going to be just fine here with all of us, I promise," he whispered. "We won't let anything happen to you." I felt his weight leave my side, which wasn't something I liked. I heard him move to one of the other couches. I then let myself fully drift back into sleep.

I woke the next morning to the sun shining brightly in my face. Andy was nowhere to be seen, and there was noise in the kitchen. I got up and walked into the kitchen, expecting to find Andy. It was Patrick.

"Good morning, sleepy head," Patrick said with his signature smile.

"Did Andy leave already?" I asked. I was partly hoping he would still be here.

"Yeah," Patrick replied. "He said he had something to take care of, but he'll be over tonight with the other guys. I thought we might go somewhere today, just the two of us. What d'you day? Maybe check out some high schools and do some shopping? We could make a day out of it."

"Sounds like fun," I smiled.

"Take a seat, I'm almost done with breakfast," he smiled. I sat down, and soon he set a plate in front of me. Toast, bacon, eggs, and a glass of orange juice. He had the same. He took a seat at the table with me and we ate in silence.

"This is the best breakfast I've had in eleven years," I said gratefully. Patrick merely gave me a sad smile and thanked me.

I hated that smile. I got it a lot, and I didn't want that to be a smile Patrick gave me. I wanted him to give me his happy smile, the smile he had when he was with the band. I wondered what smile he had when he was making music in the studio. I bet it was a smile only the guys got to see. A special smile he reserved for music.

I must have zoned out, because soon Patrick was saying my name and giving me a concerned look.

"Lyra? Are you okay?" Patrick asked.

"Sorry, I must have zoned out," I replied with a shy smile. I ate the rest of my breakfast and stood up. "I'd better go get ready." I held back the tears as I put my dishes in the dish washer and started to leave the kitchen, not letting Patrick see my face. 

"Wait!" Patrick called. I stopped, but still didn't face him. "If I said or did something I shouldn't have, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." My cheeks were stained with tears as I cried silently. If only he knew.

I nodded. "It's fine," I said. I left the kitchen before he could say anything else. I ran up the stairs and sat against my closed bedroom door. I heard noise coming from the room below. Patrick was on the phone with someone.

"I don't know!" Patrick said loudly. "I have no idea what I did to upset her, Pete!" He sounded stressed and upset. "She wouldn't even look at me. I hate seeing her like that, but I don't know what to do. You need to come talk to her, Pete. Right now. She trusts you. She knows you understand better than anyone. She'll talk to you, I know she will. No, Pete, it can't wait. Okay. Okay. Thanks, Pete." 

I got in the shower. Pete was coming over to talk to me. I could talk to Pete. Patrick was right, Pete understood. I suddenly couldn't take it. I collapsed against the bathtub wall and barely held myself up while I sobbed. My crying was drowned out by the water hitting the bottom. I felt like I couldn't breathe, like all of my feelings and thoughts were suffocating me. I needed Pete. I needed to talk to him and cry to him. I I didn't talk to him soon, I didn't think I'd be able to live.

I got out of the shower after I'd gained some of my strength back. I dressed in a pair of black, denim shorts and my favorite Panic! tank top. I didn't put my heeled boots on yet. I just sat on my bed and cried silent tears as I looked at the wall. The doorbell rang and I heard Patrick opening the door. He greeted Pete.

"I think she's till upstairs in her room," Patrick said. "I don't know if she's okay because she hasn't made a sound since she turned off the shower. It's been at least ten or fifteen minutes." 

"That's not good," he said. "She could have done anything in that time." 

I heard two pairs of loud footsteps running up the stairs and down the hall. There was a knock on my door. 

"Lyra?" Pete asked. "Are you in there?" I couldn't bare to speak loudly enough, so instead I got up and opened the door a crack. Pete looked relieved.

"Is she okay?" I heard Patrick whisper from nearby. Pete just looked at him for a moment before turning back to me.

"Can I come in?" Pete asked. "We can talk here, but I figure you'd rather talk in there." I nodded my head and let him in, closing the door behind him. He sat on my bed and beckoned me over. I sat down and just looked at my bare feet. "C'mon, you can tell me. I won't tell Patrick if you don't want me to, I promise." I nodded.

"He didn't say anything bad," I said, starting to cry again. "I know it wasn't his fault. Everyone reacts that way." 

"What way?" Pete asked. "What happened, Lyra?" His eyes were soft, fillled with concern and understanding.

"We were eating breakfast and I said something stupid," I sobbed. "I told him it was the best breakfast I'd had in eleven years. The way he looked at me, Pete. I don't want to see that look ever again. I hate that look."

"What look?" Pete asked softly.

"He gave me this sad smile," I cried. "I just hate it! I don't like that smile on him! It always reminds me of the pain I suffered at the orphanage. I know it's not his fault, I know. He didn't mean it." Pete wrapped his arms around me and let me cry on his shoulder. 

"It'll be okay," he whispered. 

"If I didn't know you were coming. . ." I cried. 

"I know, I know," he whispered. "I did the same thing. Listen, it isn't worth it. Ever. Dying is never the answer to anything. You understand me? You have four people who are willing to listen to anything you want to talk to us about. Just say the word and we'll be there."

"Thank you," I whispered as I was finally calming down. Pete nodded and held me tightly against him. "And if you ever need to talk to someone. . . ."

"I know," he said. I just know he smiled. 

After a few moments longer, he let go of me. "You should get out there. I hear you and Patrick are supposed to be spending the day together." He winked and left the room to let me finish getting ready.  I went to the bathroom to wipe my face and do my makeup. Then I put on my boots and went downstairs. Patrick was sitting on a couch in the lounge. When I walked in, he stood up and came over. He hugged me.

"I'm glad you're okay," he whispered in my ear. "Let's go." He grabbed the car keys and we left the house, locking it on our way out. "Where to first?"

"We might as well check out some high schools," I said. "Although, I'm not ecstatic to go back to school."

"Maybe wherever we choose will be different than your last one," Patrick said.

"I hope so," I said with a sigh. I was fourteen, but my birthday was in the summer. My freshman year was almost over. Two more months before I was a Sophomore. I would get my license in one year, three months, and eight days. I couldn't wait.