Chapter Text
Pete steps back in his room as he partially leans against the doorpost and sighs. After fake dating Alberta (and Nancy) AND then having to admit it was all a lie to Carol in the same day is, well…exhausting.
Pete yawns and lies down on the floor. He looks over at Sas tossing and turning in what used to be Pete’s bed. But, alas, his roommate agreement.
Darnit, Pete’s neck starts to get itchy again. He takes the arrow out and gives his neck a good scratch and stretch, per his nightly routine.
Of course, he has tried to go to sleep with an arrowless neck. But he can never seem to keep ahold of his arrow whilst asleep which has led to extra pain the next morning.
He stares at the ceiling. His eyes fixated on some of the curled-up, old paint in a corner. Despite being exhausted from all of the lying and confessing today, his mind keeps racing and keeping him awake.
Why did Alberta volunteer to fake date him? Was she feeling extra pity for him? Did someone else bet her to? Or, maybe she could, somehow, actually…like him?
No, no. She’s made it perfectly clear that she is not into him (he thinks).
But Pete can’t help that sliver of hope at the back of his head wishing for her to be thinking about him the same way he’s thinking about her.
Does Carol even think about him? I mean, he knows that she initially (well not initially) felt guilty two years ago when she visited, but now…
Pete scrunches his face. Why did he and Carol even get together in the first place? What’s stopped him from trying to date around a bit more before he settled down? Or, even as a ghost now, Pete has a shot. Well, if anyone was even interested in him, then maybe.
But that was a long shot. Especially for a guy who’s been picked on about every chance others’ got.
Maybe no one’s attracted to him. Maybe Carol never was. Maybe Pete will just die alo—no, this is much worse.
No partner. Not really any (ghost) friends. Just Pete and his stupid, dumb arrow stuck with him for all of eternity.
Alone.
Pete takes a few deep breaths as his eyes start to tear up. He shakes his head to stop spiraling, and plays with his ascot to calm down.
He just wants tomorrow to go back to normal. Even though normal kinda sucks, if he’s being honest.
Pete just hates all of the scheming and lying and pain. He’s a scoutmaster. The truth will always come to the surface, he told his scouts.
No matter how big or small the lie, one way or another someone will find out…like that he’s pathetic.
Just utterly, dreadfully pathetic.
Man, he’s sick of feeling pathetic with no control over anyone or anything.
Tomorrow will be different, he assures himself. Tomorrow will be different…