Mixtape For The End of the World

19. Brendon makes a sculpture out of burned marshmallows.

Loneliness ate at my heart as I sat there, wishing that I had somebody that I could talk to. I thought about leaving the fire and talking to Ryan again, but I wanted to finish roasting my marshmallow, and that was taking forever. I couldn't leave, despite the fact that I was alone and unloved. You are what you love, not who loves you, I told myself, but does that mean anything if nobody loves you?

Every time I looked at it, the marshmallow was the same snowy white color that it was when I had first started roasting it. It was as if it wasn't roasting at all. I stuck it closer to the fire, but all of a sudden, the marshmallow caught on fire. I yanked it out of the fire, but it was no use. The marshmallow was already burned.

"I'll take that!" Brendon exclaimed as he walked by and stole the burned marshmallow off of my stick.

"Brendon!" I shouted, but he paid no attention to me.

"Hey Pete, it's Positive Hardcore Thursday: America Edition," Brendon said. "TODAY WE CELEBRATE OUR FREEDOM!"

"It's not even Thursday," I said.

"It's not?" Brendon said, confused. He then shrugged and walked off with my burned marshmallow.

I could have taken another marshmallow and tried again, but I wasn't in the mood. I couldn't even roast a marshmallow properly, and all of my friends were ignoring me. I had been excited to come to this party, but the reality of it was just miserable. Where did the party go? I wondered.

I was just sitting there, blankly staring into the fire and doing my best to ignore everything going on around me, when Patrick sat next to me. "Hey Pete," he said as he adjusted his fedora. As usual, he looked adorable in it.

"Hi Patrick," I said. "How are you doing?"

He paused and then said, "I'm okay. Trust me," which told me that he was not okay, and I was probably wearing him out. "How are you?"

"I'm okay too," I lied, but it was nearly impossible to lie to Patrick. It was the torture of small talk with someone I used to love.

Who was I kidding? I still loved him.

"I'm kind of surprised that you're not sitting with your boyfriend," Patrick said.

That caught me off guard. "My boyfriend?" I said.

"Don't play dumb, Pete," Patrick said. "I saw you two making out at the Sunshine Riptide. You even have a picture of him tattooed on your leg."

I looked down and saw that my pant leg had ridden up higher than I would have liked, revealing the tattoo of Gabe's face. I laughed and said, "Gabe's not my boyfriend." Patrick gave me a strange look, and I explained, "We're just good friends."

"Why did he kiss you at the Sunshine Riptide then?" Patrick asked.

"He was trying to prove some theory about women being attracted to gay men," I explained. "Apparently, he was right. I'm not sitting with him right now because he's with his new girlfriend."

"What about the tattoo?" Patrick asked.

"I lost a bet," I said.

"What was the bet?" Patrick asked.

"Have you ever seen Amber Wallace: Consulting Detective?" I asked.

"No, but I've heard of it," Patrick said.

"Gabe thought that Amber Wallace was going to die, and I said that if he was right, he could design my next tattoo," I explained. "He was right, and he made me get a tattoo with his face that said 'Gabey Baby Made Me Go Bad.'"