Arbutus

19. Does it ever get lonely? Thinking you could live without me

Leave a message after the beep, its the Mikey Way.
Beep.

Mikes, what the fuck? I know we fought or whatever, but that doesn't mean you can leave all my messages on read and decline all my calls.

Please call me back... I need you.

-

"Fuck this." Pete dropped his phone on the bed.
Andy gave him a worried look. "I should probably tell you something."
"What?"
"We saw Mikey, and he... well, he said he'd seen you with someone else. And Joe kinda... spilled about how you didn't think he loved you."
"For real?"
"Yeah."

Pete lay back onto the bed. "After we fought I did talk to someone. And we kissed. And it went no further because he knew I had a boyfriend. And I have no fucking clue how he saw us."
"You kissed someone else? Who?"
"No-one you know — Gabriel Saporta."
"How do you know him?"
"I don't. And I regret it, he was just cute and a good listener. And I missed Mikey. Fuck, I missed Mikey."
"I know."
"Sometimes I think we bring out the worst in each other, but most of the time he's - no offence - my favourite person in the world and I don't want to live without him."
"Yeah, and, none taken. I get it. You're Americas dream couple."
"No we're fucking not."
"No." Andy concluded. "You're not. That was sarcasm."
"Hilarious."
"What happened to falling for Joe?"
"He rejected me."
"Can't imagine why. You're so available — no emotional baggage, definitely not into multiple other guys. Etcetera."

In response, Pete just threw his pillow at Andy, who caught it.

Summer had crept in almost without them noticing, and it was still mostly light outside of the window, dusky gold spilling onto the two boys.

Andy threw the pillow back and Pete grinned like nothing else was bothering him. Like all he had just said about Mikey was for show.

Then again, pillow fighting with Andy brought back another summer evening, last year, and Mikey ending up on the duvet on the floor, legs at those dumb angles.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?"
"Yeah, that obvious?"
"Maybe you should go and see him?"
"Thats just rude though, isn't it? Like an invasion of privacy. He clearly doesn't want to talk to me, so I shouldn't force him? I don't know, dude."
"You know him better than anyone. You know what he wants."
"I don't," Pete shook his head. "I want to. I really want to. I just don't know what I need to do, and its ruining me."
"You're too young to be ruined."
"Yeah, I know, thats the worst part of it."

Pete picked up his phone absentmindedly.
"Look, I- uh, gotta get this."
"Is it him?"
"No. I just need to meet someone." He grabbed his edgiest leather jacket from its place under the bed.
"Oh. Business?"
Pete nodded. "Look, dude, im not gonna get done. Don't try and act like my mom."
"I'm just worried."
"Well, whatever." He slid the window open.
"Why are you going out of there?"
"Ill be back in half an hour." Pete assured him, not answering the question.

He walked down his road, staring at his feet. It was just late enough and deep enough into the suburban jungle that he could walk down the white lines in the middle without worry. He almost missed him.

"Wait." A familiar voice stopped him. Too familiar.
"Mikey." His whole face lit up.
"I was actually coming over to apologise."
"You were?"
Mikey traced the toe of his shoe on the ground. "Yeah."
"Mikes I- I love you."
"I know. And I know I said I did too, but that was just me wanting you back, and- and I'm not sure I mean it anymore."
"What?" Pete felt sick, "But the letter-"
"I was still high when I wrote it."
"Mikey, I-"
"Doesn't matter, anyway, right? You have some new boy."
"Gabe's not..."
"He's cute. And maybe he'll love you the way you love him. Or, better still, the way you love me."
"Are you breaking up with me?" Pete asked, his voice hurting.
"No. Breaking up does nothing. This has to be more, because im not sure we're coming back."
"You said we could come back from anything. You said we were forever. You promised!"
"I know, Petey. But I'm nineteen. We were never going to be forever."

Pete suddenly realised there was half a road between them, and he crossed it and held Mikeys wrists, his eyes begging.

"Mikey, we can-" Mikey kissed him, interrupting. He tasted like tears.
"I'm sorry." Mikey said, not looking at him.
"Please. Look, whats the problem? Just talk to me. I can fix us."
"The problem is... I care about you. But I'm not in love with you, and thats not fair."
"This is not how we end!" Pete insisted. "We don't end in the middle of the road! We don't end in tears!"
Mikey let go of his hands. "On the contrary." He stepped away.

It was probably a good thing. They were bad for each other. This was only another example of their insecurities bouncing off each other and wrecking them. Plots and bombs and falling apart.

Or, at least, thats what Pete told himself, as he forgot about the person he was really meant to meet.

- 3 years later -

"To us," Gabe leaned back on his, their, sofa.
"To us." Pete echoed.
"And to your ex-boyfriend, Mikey, for bringing us together."
Pete rolled his eyes, "Bullshit, Gabe. He was just bad for me and... in the past. Look, we've managed three whole years without breaking up, and Mikey and me couldn't last six months."
"Shouldn't have brought him up." Gabe muttered.
"Nope."
"What are we doing to celebrate, anyway?"
Gabe grinned. "Well, tonight..."
Pete poked him, "Before that,"
"I am taking you to that new Italian place."
"New? Untested? What if its terrible? What would that say about our anniversary?"
"Then we'll experience that awfulness together. That's what a relationships about."
Pete smiled at him. "I love you."
"I love you too." Gabe replied.