If I'm being honest, I didn't have the worst time at Pete's. Sure, everyone but me was high and - unlike Joe had told me - we never got to playing any music. The only music played was Pete's embarrassing rendition of "All The Small Things", where - after he was done shouting the lyrics - he claimed that that could be our first song and it would be a huge hit, forgetting that it was already made by Blink-182. But overall, I didn't totally hate it there. I think I even had fun.
When it was time to leave, I had to beg to be the driver. Pete argued that it was his truck and that he should be the driver, but I told him that I wasn't riding in a car with someone who couldn't tell the difference between the toilet and a planter.
I drove Joe home and then I drove myself home.
I put the truck in park in my driveway and looked over at Pete who was sitting in the passenger seat, his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted down. I leaned over and nudged him, waking him up from his little nap.
"What? Where am I?" He started looking around frantically before meeting my gaze, a relieved expression crossing his face, "Oh...okay. I know where we are." He nodded his head in remembrance, glancing out the windshield and his eyebrows furrowing together, "Wait, this isn't Joe's house."
"No, it's mine," I told him, pushing out the car door and getting out. I turned around and leaned against the opened door, asking, "Do you think you'll be alright to drive yourself back home?"
He shifted in his seat a little, "Well...considering I don't know where your house is, I'm going to have to say no."
I heaved a sigh, knowing that, even if I gave him directions, I couldn't let him drive himself back home. Not when he was like this. "Why don't you come inside then?"
"For what?"
"To spend the night, idiot."
He sat there for a little before retorting, "Why would I do that?"
I crossed my arms, "Look, just come inside. I'll set you up on the couch or something."
"You're not going to murder me, are you?" The corner of his lip curled up into a smirk, "Because I wouldn't actually mind that. I would actually like that very much."
I rolled my eyes and closed the car door, walking around the truck and up the walkway to my front door. Pete shut the truck off and followed after me. I grasped the doorknob and turned it, pushing the door in to reveal a dark house. After all, it was after midnight.
I put my finger up to my lips and turned towards Pete, indicating that he needed to be quiet. He nodded his head in understanding and the two of us stepped through the threshold, me closing the door carefully behind us as to not wake my mom who was probably upstairs asleep.
"Nice house you've got," Pete commented, looking around before picking up a photo frame sitting on the small table we kept by the door. "Is this you and your family?" I glanced down at the photograph and saw that it was. It was of the five of us, my dad, my mom, my brother and my sister, and me. A morose feeling washed over me and I took the picture out of his hands, setting it back down on the table.
"Yeah, but don't touch my stuff, okay?" I muttered, "My mom doesn't know you're here and I don't want her finding out because something's misplaced. She knows stuff like that." He gave me a strange look. "Just...stay here, alright? I'll go get you some sheets. And don't touch anything while I'm gone!"
And with that, I disappeared upstairs to my bedroom, where I opened my closet and pulled out some of my old blankets. Just as I turned around to go back downstairs, I saw my mom standing in my bedroom doorway, curlers in her hair, dressed in her robe, and her arms crossed over her chest.
"Mom," I murmured in shock.
"Patrick, where the fuck have you been?" She shouted at me, uncrossing her arms and rushing into the room, enveloping in me in a tight hug, "You had me worried sick! You didn't come home from school and no one knew where you were!"
"I-I-I was with Joe," I stammered, holding the blankets close to my chest, my cheeks growing a deep shade of red, "We were having band practice."
"Oh," Her anger subsided and was replaced with relief, as if knowing I was with him made everything better, "Well, you should've at least called me and told me you were going to hang out with him," She stepped out of the embrace, "Give me a little peace of mind, you know?"
"I'm sorry," I apologized, swallowing the lump in my throat.
"What are you doing with your old blankets?" She inquired, noticing them in my arms.
Great, another excuse I had to come up with. "I was feeling a little cold...so I, uh, I got these out."
"Oh, okay." We stood there in silence for a second or two before she blurted out, "Just remember to tell me when you're going out with friends next time, okay? I was worried sick."
"Yes, Mom," I hung my head. She never forgot to tell me how worried I made her.
She nodded her head and went to retreat to her bedroom when she gasped and spun back around, pointing her finger at me, "Oh, another thing. Tomorrow's another one of those meetings and, since you scared the shit out of me today, you're going."
"But Mom! That's not fair!"
"Patrick, I don't want to hear it. Life isn't fair, get used to it. You're going to that meeting even if it kills you."
I scoffed and mumbled, "I wish it did."
"What was that?"
"I said okay!" I snapped at her, my cheeks growing even redder.
Her eyes narrowed and she left my bedroom, escaping to hers and slamming the door behind her to get the message across that I'd upset her. I rolled my eyes and made my way downstairs, where I discovered Pete curled up on the couch, already passed out. I heaved a sigh and walked up to him, draping the blankets over him.
I took a step back and looked down at him, not even realizing the small grin gradually appearing on my face.
"Goodnight, Pete," I murmured, turning on my heel and trudging back upstairs to my bedroom. I didn't even bother switching into some pajamas before falling into bed. I lied for a little before turning on my side and snatching my clock off of my nightstand, setting my alarm to wake up before my mom would, so that I could sneak Pete out before she found him.
But there was a slight problem.
I had a bad tendency to sleep through my alarms.
"PATRICK!"
