Work Text:
“There once was a guy named Pete,
Who lived a life quite discreet.
He took no chances, made little advances,
So his life did not feel complete.”
Peter sucked on the bottle of beer in front of him. “Real funny, Ted.”
“Hey, buck up!” His older brother grinned. “You’re newly divorced; you know what you can do to cheer yourself up?” Ted leaned in. “Hit on some of the hot little college hunnies in the bar.”
He grimaced as he looked over to the group of obnoxiously loud younger girls in the corner booth of The Birdhouse. “Not my style…”
Ted almost spit out his drink with how quickly he started to laugh. “‘Not your style???’” He repeated. “Pete, you have no ‘style’. The only girl you’ve ever been with was your high school best friend who you married because you were scared of dying alone. How’d that turn out for ya, huh?”
He glares at his brother. “Ruth and I are sorting things out very amicably… She was the one who served me papers, actually…”
“ You ?? But… You spent all of high school rejecting her.”
Pete didn’t respond, and instead took another sip of the bottle thoughtfully. “Did I tell you what she said when she asked for a divorce?” He asked instead.
“Hm?”
He gestured grandly, but his hands stayed pretty close to him regardless. “‘I love you for trying to love me, but I can tell you’re unhappy…’” He smiled sadly. “She’s been real nice about it the whole time… Neither of us actually were attracted to each other, but it’s a ring on a finger, right?”
“And now you can find a new ring for your finger ,” Ted joked as he made obscene gestures and Pete smacked his hands down.
“Shut up, Ted, I’m trying to wallow in the fact my life is over at twenty-six.” He laid his forehead onto the bar counter.
Ted patted his back sympathetically. “If you ever need a place to crash, you're welcome at mine and Jenny’s. You know Bella and the boys love seeing Uncle Petey.”
Pete didn’t say anything. The last thing he wanted after any of this was to spend time with Ted and his stupid (lovely) wife and stupid (wonderful) children. He loved Ted’s family but… Seeing them happy together was the last thing he wanted after a divorce that felt more painful than he thought it would be. Ruth was one of his best friends! He should have loved being married to his best friend! There was just not that spark he was always told he was supposed to feel with her, and the more they tried to force it, the more obvious it became that it would never make itself known. God bless Ruth for being the one to save them both. Pete probably would’ve been content to die married and miserable before he dared bring up the idea of divorce to her.
“Thanks, Ted, but I might just stay with Mom and Dad if the tension in the apartment gets to be too much…”
“It would be nice to have Mom make me breakfast every morning…”
“Trust me, Ted, that’s not the flex it sounds like to you…”
Even Richie offered to let Pete sleep on his pull-out couch if need be, but Pete was too worried Ruth would see that as Richie blaming her for their divorce and he’d ruin their friendship.
Pete and Ted sat in silence to finish their drinks until the latter spoke up again. “At least you still have your job! Spankoffski Bros, Heads of IT at CCRP! We're the unstoppable duo! Malware trembles before us!”
More accurately, malware trembled before Peter . The only thing that trembled before Ted was their coworkers for fear of him telling his terrible dad jokes or whipping out stupid (adorable) pictures of his stupid (obscenely happy) family. Ted was constantly goofing off at work or bothering said coworkers with aforementioned jokes and pictures, so Pete was doing twice the amount of work he should be doing. Nearly thanklessly, he might add. The most thanks he got were ‘Thank you for helping so I don’t have to talk to your brother.’ Isn’t it great hearing all the time that the people you work with find your brother annoying?? Ted got him the stupid job anyways and Pete took it because there were some guaranteed promotions with how small their IT department was. And simply… What else was he supposed to do?? He’s never been one to take risks. Ever.
Everything in his life was a safety net he didn’t allow himself to climb any higher than. Marry Ruth, take Ted’s job offer. Those were things he was supposed to fall back on (no offense to either of the two), not settle for?? And look how that worked out for him: divorced and overworked. That shows him for taking no risks.
Real funny, God, he got the lesson. Time to give him his reward for learning from his mistakes? That’s how it’s supposed to work, right???
He really shouldn’t have been out drinking with Ted anyways. He had work to do in the morning- his and Ted’s - and knocking back a beer or two with his brother was not going to make that any easier. If anything, he should have been at work getting overtime hours so he at least had some fucking compensation for the amount of stress this stupid job put on his stupid mental health. Either that or he should just bash his head into the counter under his forehead.
“Hey… I gotcha something…” Ted said to him.
Peter lifted his head from the bar counter. “A divorce present? Really, Ted?”
His brother smiled sheepishly. “Well I wouldn’t think of it like that… More of a gift to commemorate the start of the rest of your life…”
Ted produced a present wrapped in glittering yellow paper and Pete hesitantly tore it away to reveal an ornate golden cube with bizarre patterns crossing its six sides. Pete scoffed.
“Is this one of Cory’s Rubix cubes?” He asked. “I don’t need a metaphor for how life’s a puzzle you need to solve , Ted…”
“Not a metaphor, and not a Rubix Cube.”
The younger held it up, admiring the geometric shapes across the planes. “So… It’s just a box?”
He suddenly heard a strange, unfamiliar laugh.
“The Bastard’s Box,” the voice belonging to the laugh corrected.
Pete looked up, and Ted was gone, along with every other patron in the bar, even the gaggle of college girls. The establishment was silent, plates of rotten finger foods sat abandoned at various tables and seats of the bar.
Standing in the corner behind the bar, polishing a glass stein was a terrifying, goat-like figure, covered in a dirty coat of matted, yellow fur. He could smell it from here; it absolutely reeked, worse than his ex-wife even. The worst part was definitely its face. Aforementioned goat-like appearance, with glassy, emotionless eyes that looked in two opposite directions, as well as a slack jaw with crooked teeth and a floppy tongue. It took a bite out of the pint it was cleaning and swallowed down the crunchy broken glass, then seemingly held it out to offer a bite to Peter.
Pete nearly fell out of his stool in terror. “What??”
The creature looked at the glass in its hand then let go of it, letting it shatter against the ground without another thought. Pete saw it was actually pointing at the box in his hands.
“That’s where I keep all my little toys, Petey Pie!” It said in an excited, almost child-friendly voice. It sort of reminded him of a circus clown… He hated clowns. “Toys like you!” It cackled again, and the sound chilled Pete to the bone.
“What the fuck is this?!”
“Tick tock, Petey Pie! Tick fucking tock! Hahahahaha!”
In an instant, the creature disappeared below Pete’s line of sight, under the bar counter, and popped back up directly in front of him, inches from his face, slamming onto the bar and splintering the wood under its hooves. It licked Pete’s face and turned its head almost fully upside down.
“Have fuuuuuuun!”
Pete screamed in horror, feeling like he was being shaken even though this thing’s disgusting hooves didn’t touch him.
“Hey! Hey, man?” Ted shook Pete awake. “Dude don’t fall asleep in the bar; that’s so depressing!”
Had Pete fallen asleep? He only had a beer and a half; he should not be hammered enough to knock out like that. The room was back to normal and the goat creature was gone, not even a bartender behind the counter to replace it.
“I didn’t mean to…” He said simply.
“Are you getting enough sleep, Pete?” He asked. “I know you’ve been stressed about the divorce, but-”
“I should go…” Pete interrupted as he thought out loud. He began to shrug his coat back onto his shoulders.
“What?? No! Dude, we’re celebrating your freedom!”
Pete glared at him, utterly unamused, and Ted smiled nervously.
“Or… Wallowing in self-pity…”
Pete wished he could deny it, but Ted was right. This was 100% self-pity. What’s risky about self-pity? Which is exactly why he shouldn’t have been there. Fuck this.
You know what he was gonna do? He was going to go down to the office to do some of his work now so he didn’t have to stress about his work tomorrow. Fuck, or maybe he’d fix the fucked up printer network since nobody was there to use it! That’d be perfect, and it’d save him further iterations of “I don’t know where your weekly report got sent, Mr. Matthews, you’ll either have to look for it or print it out again.” God, that Paul guy… Fucking useless. Hell, fixing that long-standing issue might even force the higher ups to give him a promotion high enough that he didn’t have to have Ted’s work pushed onto him.
Later, at the deserted CCRP building, Pete searched the entire system trying to find a way to either fix the issue or find a way to work around it. He’d think all these fucking millennials would understand how to use a computer, but Pete time and time again found himself sorely mistaken. He checked so many times for the key to fixing this damn system until he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Fuck, this is gonna take me eighty-five years,” Pete groaned as he crashed into the chair in his small office. He yawned, exhausted. “Eighty-five years…”
Pete’s desk chair was nowhere near the most comfortable thing, but this felt like the first time he’d gotten a moment of peace and quiet since he and Ruth decided to get a divorce two months prior. He dozed off, head down against his desk, and slept dreamlessly.
He jolted awake to the sound of his horrible piano riff phone alarm.
Pete tried to take in his surroundings, completely missing the cobwebs in the corners as he pried his eyes open and forced his brain awake enough to turn off the blaring alarm and focus on where he was.
“Ah, shit, Monday…” He groaned. “Fuck, Ruth is gonna kill me for not checking in…”
He lumbered to the door to turn the handle only to find it wouldn’t budge. He jiggled the knob to no avail, muttering annoyed remarks to himself as he tried to pry the jammed door open.
“Damn door!”
Left with no other options, Pete began to take a few steps back. Shit, he’s gonna fuck up his shoulder doing this. He rammed his shoulder into the door once, twice, three times, and crack . The door swung open and Pete stumbled into the open office floor. Multiple employees looked up from the tablets in their hands and Pete smiled embarrassedly.
“It sticks all the time…” He said, rubbing his hurt shoulder. He took a look at the door to see it wasn’t jammed . Someone had nailed it shut with Pete inside as a “funny” practical joke. Ted should’ve known better than to do this! He knew Pete was in a really tough spot and trapping him in his office wasn’t the pick-me-up he must’ve thought it was. And if it wasn’t Ted, why would his brother let someone do that to him??
Pete took a second glance at the tablets in everyone’s hands. They were way more sophisticated than the PCs everyone usually worked on, or any technology he’s seen in his life; must’ve been shipped in overnight and just handed out. Great . New tech he didn’t even know how to use yet and no warning to the IT Department that would inevitably be asked for help. He scurried away to the break room for water for his headache and something sweet for his blood sugar before anyone could spot him and ask ‘How do I open this attachment?’ or ‘Do you know where my document ended up getting printed?’ Fuck, he didn’t finish fixing the printer system last night. He’d never get that promotion at a rate like this.
The break room looked way different . The walls were made of frosted glass covered in digital displays. Just his luck, the water cooler was gone. How did all this construction and moving things get done in a night without him waking up?? Not his problem, he guessed, sleep is sleep.
He slipped into the back of the Monday meeting that he usually went to in Ted’s stead, taking a seat towards the back since he was twenty minutes late. A scientist stood at the front of the boardroom, giving a presentation in front of a holographic display. Pete sat up in his chair. That itself was new too, even without the depiction of a metallic humanoid skeleton. It reminded him of The Terminator. Now we’re talking Peter’s language.
“This synthetic life form will completely eliminate the need for a human workforce,” she declared. “It will be compliant, efficient, and given our database’s genetic material to choose from, aesthetically pleasing as well.” The scientist waved her hand, and on the holographic display, skin wrapped around the robotic frame, now making it an exact replica of Theodore Spankoffski.
Pete scoffed. “Those are three descriptors I’ve never heard to address Ted before!” He jokes out loud, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Efficiency least of all. If this robot acts anything like him, it’ll definitely have a couple screws loose, if you know what I mean!”
Everyone in the room stared blankly at Pete when he remembered that he was technically not supposed to be at these meetings- Ted was. Another point towards Ted’s inefficiency and Pete’s deserving of a promotion.
The scientist cleared her throat, unamused. “Well, first off, it’s an android, and… Its efficiency is not to be questioned just because of its appearance.”
“Personality-wise though, I wouldn’t suggest Ted…”
“Sir, with all due respect, just because you know the name of the genetic specimen… Somehow… Doesn’t mean you get to direct our project leads on who they can or can’t base this android off of. Who… Who even are you? What department are you from?”
Fuck, he and Ted were going to get in trouble now. He was going to lose his shitty job, then he’d definitely have to move back in with his mother and father.
“Peter Spankoffski. Tech support?”
One of the other men in the room stood and spoke up. “Uh, no? I run the technical department, and I’ve never seen this guy before in my life.”
“How did you get into the building?” The scientist asked, and Peter thought to pull out his work ID as proof of employment before she spoke up again. “Scan his implant.”
Two employees grabbed Pete and slammed him against the conference table.
“Hey! Careful! I bruise easily and my blood sugar is fucking low, okay??”
One of them took out a small device and touched it to the back of Pete’s neck after brushing aside his shoulder length hair. Pete tried to stay still. This was a misunderstanding! If he didn’t struggle, it could all be sorted out and he could get back to work without him or Ted being in trouble.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeep .
The employees stared at the readout, confused. “Huh…”
“What is it…?” The lady at the front asked.
“Must be a malfunction,” the one holding the device said. “It’s saying this man has… No implant.”
“He bears striking resemblance to the android,” the other noted thoughtfully.
“No implant? That’s impossible. Call security.”
“Hey! Hey! Don’t roughhouse me!” Pete said. “I’m serious about the low blood sugar!”
The scientist took out another machine, looking suspiciously like a taser. Okay, this is when to struggle. If the asshole didn’t cause him years of trauma, he’d almost thank Max Jӓgerman for the years of bullying for teaching him how to break away and run like hell. He’s decently quick from the practice- maybe he should have joined Track in high school- and the other employees in the room hardly process what happened before he’s already out of the door and down the hall.
“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!”
As Pete ran, he noticed a large display on the opposite wall he had walked from showing the date.
September 2113.
The year was 2113. It was just 2028! God, what the fuck was going on?!
He didn’t know and he didn't care. Just run, run, and then run a little more. Fuck, this reminded him too much of high school. Running from Max and his goons was an everyday occurrence, and thinking of the people chasing him as those football team meatheads only encouraged him to run faster and faster. Almost on autopilot, he was running to his office rather than the fucking exit. Privacy and solitude was where he felt safest, just like back in high school. God, if only he had taken some goddamn risks back then, he would never be in whatever fucked up situation he was in now! He never would have married Ruth, he never would have taken a job at CCRP, at least not one that he would have to work alongside his brother and take up all that bastard’s work- he even inherited Ted’s old office so that his brother could get a new one! So many fucking regrets, so many if only’s, spun his head this way and that as he ran down the halls. Peter barely registered the security alarms blaring with the combination of his headache, low blood sugar, and adrenaline.
He slammed the door shut, locking it behind him and curling up in the farthest corner, eyes squeezed shut, like he would when Max, Jason, and Kyle finally caught up to him. Fuck, if he could just go back to high school, he’d find himself and smack some sense of fucking adventure into that little shit. Fuck 2113, and fuck 2028 ! Take him back to 2020, God, please?!
Ted shook Pete awake from the floor of the office.
“Pete? Pete??”
He yawned again, lifting his head up from where he’d crashed. “Ted??”
His brother winced. “God, dude, what are you doing in my office? You okay, buddy?” Ted helped him up into his comfortable office chair. “Pete, you look terrible! What’s with the stubble?! You look… Fuckin’ old…”
He glanced around his office- it was decorated differently, like how Ted used to have it.
“What year is it?” Pete asked hesitantly, and Ted’s face fell.
“Oh, kiddo…” He said sympathetically. “You must be sick, Petey, you look ill.” He held the back of his hand up to Pete’s forehead.
“What year??”
“2020,” Ted answered like it was obvious. “How did you fall asleep in my office?”
He shrugged. “I dunno?” Wait. 2020?? High school! He did it! This office was above one of the labs working on whatever top-secret project he was always dying to know about. It was completely plausible there was some sort of temporal distortion that, after enough exposure, allowed him to become aborted from the flow of time. “Actually, Ted, you are so right! I feel so sick!” He fakes a couple coughs. “I should go home and rest. I’ll tell you how I got here later so bye!”
Pete stood up from the chair and instantly fell to the ground, only then recognized he was still having blood sugar issues- time travel must fuck with it. “Do you have any candy…?”
Ted smiled quizzically. “Peter. I’m in my late thirties. I’m a father of two… Of course I have candy; do you want Twix or Skittles?”
Eventually, and with little words to Ted, Pete left the CCRP building and made his way back to his parents’ house- his home. That was still home at this point. Holy cow… Pete- himself- should get home in a few hours, with a few more to spare before his parents return. Maybe until then he’ll soak up the nostalgia.
~~~
Pete pushed open his door, tossing aside his backpack and toeing off his converse. It was a stressful day at school and he just needs to unwind now . He crashed onto his bed, shimmying up it and yanking off his suspenders. Just as he was about to pull down his pants, he hears from the corner of his room:
“Uh, dude?”
“FUCK!” The younger shouted, immediately pulling his suspenders back on and looking at the man in the corner. “Ted?? Dude what the fuck are you doing in my bedroom?!”
The older man pulled an offended face. “I don’t look thirty-six, do I??” He shook his head. Priorities. Priorities. “I’m you, Pete! … What’s the… The code for this from the binder, uh… God, fuck me for picking such an obscure quote… ‘If that guy doesn't lose his arm soon, I'm gonna fucking take it from him myself!’”
“Holy shit, you are me from the future!” Pete scrambled to the foot of the bed. “You look like shit…” Pete shook his head. Whatever. “How? What? Why?!”
“Don’t know, I’m just as confused as you are, and I’m here to get you to end me .”
The eighteen year old Pete tilted his head curiously. “‘End you?’ Is the future really that bleak?”
“Yes,” the older Peter answered. “I hate my job and I just got divorced yesterday- well… Yesterday from eight years in the future- and it’s all your fault , fuckface.”
The younger looked offended for a moment, then shrugged. “Sounds fair… Where do you- we- work? Who did we get divorced from- wait no! Don’t tell me! I shouldn’t know!”
“And you know I wasn’t going to tell you,” the older Peter agreed. “I am simply here to get something through our thick fucking skull.”
“Well if you’re so miserable, why should I listen to life advice from you?”
“Because if you don’t listen to me, you’ll be as miserable as I am, genius. Do you want to have your midlife crisis at twenty-six? Clearly, if I can time travel, something has gone very, very wrong.”
Pete looked at his future self closely. He still dressed basically the same way, which wasn’t great considering this outfit was picked to be bullyproof and while it had grown on him, he’d hoped by his late twenties he would have worked up the nerve to try out something new. He had stubble on his face like he hadn’t shaved in a few days- probably very preoccupied with that divorce to whoever. He looked tired enough to be confused for Ted who, spry as he is, still had ten years on this Peter. There was a deep-seated dissatisfaction that Pete had seen in his eyes before, and it had only gotten worse apparently.
“And,” Older Peter continued. “If our life wasn’t better off changing, I wouldn’t have come to you to ask to change it.”
“Yeah… Yeah, sure I’ll listen to you…” Pete conceded. “Bestow your ancient wisdom upon me.”
“‘Ancient’?? Excuse you, I am only eight years older than you! Imagine how offended Mom and Dad would be if they heard you calling twenty-six ‘ancient’.”
Young Pete sighed. “Fine. Tell me what you learned in eight years that will change our life forever.”
“Quit being sarcastic, you little shit, you know as well as I do that this is important!”
“Oh like you can’t handle a little sarcasm from yourself,” he laid back down onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Please tell me what you came here to tell me.”
Peter joined Pete on the bed, lying parallel to him and also staring at the ceiling. “You need to take more risks, buddy,” he said quietly. “Everything in our future is something we settled for because we were scared of what would happen if we stepped out of our comfort zone… Now I’m overworked and already divorced and I’m not even thirty. Ted had a kid by thirty…”
“Can I know how Bella’s doing?” He asked. “She’s fifteen, right?”
“Mhm… She just started soccer. Jenny loves it. She takes the games so seriously… I think she’s betting on them with the other moms…”
Pete snorted. “Classic Jen.”
The older one grinned. “Yeah… Georgie’s doing well too; he just started sixth grade last month.”
“Any more kids?”
“Now that would be telling.”
The two turned to face each other with small smiles.
“So I just need to do dumb shit?” The younger Pete asked.
“Take risks, step out of our comfort zone,” Peter corrected. “That doesn’t need to include dumb shit.”
Young Pete mulled it over in his head. “Yeah, I guess so… Even though we’re inclined to do smarter things.”
“True…”
“What else should I know?” He asked the time traveler. “Do you have any specifics in mind or is the master plan just ‘take risks’?”
Older Peter shrugged. “Not exactly… I think the goal is to get you comfortable to actually do something we wouldn’t normally do, so when the thing we’re missing makes itself known, you won’t be too scared to go for it.”
“Reasonable…”
The younger Pete sat up. “Okay… So if I do something wrong will you come to stop me?”
“Depending on how wrong it is, it might not be me coming to stop you. It could be… I dunno, like a cyborg of us?”
“That would be so cool…” Both of them said wistfully.
“I’ll focus really hard on the time and date every time I do something- or I’ll make note of it and carry around a little notebook forever! I dunno, I- I just don’t wanna fuck things up worse…”
“Start off simple then!” Peter exclaimed. “I’m telling you that thought process is what makes us so melancholy in the first place! Please, dude, I hate my life! Save us from this, man! If we don’t get more courageous, we’re gonna be miserable the rest of our life!”
Pete nodded. “Yes! Okay, okay, I promise I’ll do it! I’ll try new things!”
“Fuck yeah, dude. Thank you!”
“Fuck yeah!” He repeated. “I got this??”
Peter set his hands on each of Pete’s shoulders. “You got this…” He gave him an anxious but nonetheless proud smile that the younger couldn’t help but return.
“Cool!” Pete said. “Cool! Cool, cool, cool…”
That was settled pretty fast, and Peter didn’t know what he could affect by sticking around in 2020 much longer, so without further ado, he gave his younger self a hug (knowing he needed one at that age) and said goodbye.
“I’ll leave you to process this whole situation… And probably get back to what you were about to do.”
Pete blushed despite the teasing being from himself. “Pfft… Okay, Peter…”
“It doesn’t get bigger, just cause I know you want to ask.”
“Fuck!”
The older Peter laughed and patted his shoulder. “Good luck, Kid, hopefully you’ll never have to see me again.”
“What about you seeing me?”
He smiled softly. “I’m always thinking of you, Pete. Stay safe always but don’t stay comfortable for long, okay?”
Younger Pete hugged him again. “I’ll do it for us.”
Those five little words made Peter smile more than anything in a long time.
“Alright, Kid, you’ve got this!” He patted his shoulders again. “We can do this.”
Pete spent his next week taking small chances. He tried different foods the lunch cafeteria offered, he used a pen instead of a No.2 pencil on his schoolwork, he even made a joke in his AP Physics class that made everyone laugh! Granted, it’s not hard to make a class full of nerds laugh over a joke about Isaac Newton, but still!
Then he thought he ought to kick it up a notch. Monday morning, he walked bravely onto campus in a green argyle sweater. It was the first time he even stepped out of the house in something that didn’t include a bow tie and suspenders in years . Apparently breaking a streak that went on for at least another eight years. Big step already.
It didn’t take long for the change to get noticed because soon he was getting slammed into a set of lockers.
“Where’d your bow tie go, rich boy??” Max Jägerman asked with a sneer, holding him against it from the collar of his sweater. “You think you’re better than us because you come from money??”
“I-I think the bow tie gave you the wrong idea!” He explained frantically. “I’m not rich.”
“Eugh!” Max exclaimed, letting go of his captive. “So you're a poor piece of shit then?”
“No! No, n-not poor either-”
“Had to sell your bow tie to feed your fucking family?” He mocked.
Suffice it to say, Pete got so fucked up that day. Royally, astronomically fucked up.
But he’s been beat up before, right? One more time is absolutely worth it to avoid a shitty job and being divorced from god knows who.
After sharing his predicament with Ruth and Richie, Pete let them offer ideas for new things to try.
“Audition for the school play!”
“Or try out for track!”
“Hook up with a girl! Any girl! Even one you wouldn’t be interested in in a million years!” Ruth gestured to herself, wiggling suggestively.
Pete stopped taking suggestions after that last one.
Peter Spankoffski walked through the wrong hallways, he turned in his assignments a day late, he kept dressing differently and wearing his hair up and changing up his daily routines and said hello to those Jason and Kyle guys in class, who weren’t as bad when they weren’t following around Max and kicking him down. He saw the laptop next to him was open in his biology class once with blatantly wrong information. That girl that sat next to him wasn’t there so he fixed the two or three wrong facts he noticed in her document until she came back.
He thought he even saw Richie talking to that pretty blonde cheerleader he’s always had a crush on. Maybe Pete inspired him to actually talk to the girl. Ruth’s posterboard for a class project got destroyed by Sarah Zimmerman so he took it upon himself to vandalize her poster right back. Serves her right!
Weeks later, another tick of a box in this new risk-taking thing he was doing was to go to a football game. He didn’t understand sports at all, but he was told he was never allowed to go, so he decided he would go. Richie hated being the only nerd at the games anyways. And just like a lot of the other obvious steps he’s taken from his role of stereotypical nerd, it got him in serious trouble with Max.
“You’ve been a real pain in my ass lately, Micro-Peter!” The bully complained. “What kinda stupid pills have you been taking, ‘tard?”
Jason and Kyle’s eyes went wide and they took a couple steps back. Pete was hyperventilating- oh was he gonna get it now! He oughta just take the beating again, if he tried to run, he’d risk getting put in a hospital!
There’s that word though… “Risk”. If he can stand up to Max Jägerman, that will make anything else he ever does look like small potatoes! Fuck yeah!
“Woah, Max, if it’s so micro, how is it a pain in your ass?” He asked with a smirk and Max pushed him against the locker again.
“You calling me gay, fuckwad?!”
Peter almost laughed before he schooled his expression to look sympathetic. “It’s not a bad thing if you are!” He told him.
“Wipe that smug look of your fucking face before I wipe it off with my fist!”
That reminded him that Max has always had the upper hand. He was tired of it, so sick and fucking tired.
“I’m sick of your shit, Max.” Pete said bluntly. “You want me to grovel and run so you can chase; we’ve been doing this song and dance since the fourth grade.”
Pete looked behind Max’s goons to see the display drew in a crowd. Good. If he got his face bashed in front of everyone maybe nothing else will be as publicly humiliating ever again.
He looked Max dead in the eye with an insincere smile. “The best part is that you putting me down is futile because I promise you I am going to have a life after high school and you fucking won’t.”
Barely a second passed before Max punched him in the stomach and Pete doubled over in pain, keeping his howl of agony to himself.
“You won’t have a life after high school if I take it from you now!”
Max pushed him to the ground and kicked his lower rib cage, Pete gritting his teeth to keep down his pained noise.
“ Wooo! How’s that feel, Spankoffski?! Groveling yet, little bitch?!” The bully shouted. “I don’t know what gives you the idea you can step out of line! And, God, I thought I’ve broken these already!”
Max snatched the glasses from Peter’s face and snapped them in two, tossing aside each half.
“Your dad fixes them for me every time you prove why he’ll never be proud of you.”
Everyone in the crowd gasped.
“Oh, you’re gonna fucking get it now!”
One Supersized Beating later, Peter was never so proud to get a black eye and a bruised rib. He justified it to himself by thinking that it couldn’t have been that bad of a decision if his older self didn’t stop him.
That’s not to say he didn’t regret it pretty damn badly when his body felt like he’d been shoved under a hydraulic press the next day. He promised himself in the morning he’d take it easier today… And avoid Max. Avoiding Max was arguably more important.
The next morning with her loud voice and bright, nervous smile, Miss Mulberry announced a pop quiz and he heard the girl beside him- Stephanie Lauter, the mayor’s daughter- groan as a paper got set down on each of their desks.
“Hey, hey geek?” She tapped on his desk a couple times. “Your name is Peter, right?”
Stephanie Lauter had never talked to him in their lives despite having classes together since the first grade. She was gorgeous and popular and Pete has had a bit of a crush on her for eons (but who didn’t?). From what he’s heard, she’s a little stupid, but from what he saw when he fixed the very few mistakes on her document a week ago, that was hardly true. What the hell did she want from him??
“Um… Yeah? Peter Spankoffski…”
She flashed him a sweet smile. “Hi, Pete. I’m Stephanie.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, trying his best to return her smile without it seeming awkward. He set down his pen.
“My friends call me Steph though… We’re friends, aren’t we Pete?”
He shrugged. “If you wanna call not talking to each other for over ten years ‘being friends’, then be my guest… Steph.”
Her smile grew and she leaned into her palm, elbow on the desk. “So… I stayed up real late last night on Twitter getting into fights, you get the drill, so silly me , I forgot to study… So all that to say-” She dropped the nonchalant act. “I am going to fail this quiz, dude, can you help me cheat??”
“Cheat?” He repeated thoughtfully.
Cheating on a test is a big academic misconduct, 2 hours of detention if he remembers the school handbook correctly. This’d be bigger than fixing a couple mistakes for an unsuspecting classmate or secretly vandalizing another person’s project for payback. He could actually get in trouble if he got caught! He could be in shit; that could potentially go on his permanent record!
Permanent, you say? As in like… Will ‘change his future’ permanent? Maybe cheating on a test was his risky thing for today.
And besides, who was to say they’d even get caught? The thrill of getting away with it would provide its own reward, much less just to do this to avoid a desolate future.
“… Do you really do your work in pen?” She asked him and he shrugged.
“As of lately, yes,” he replied. “I hardly ever get answers wrong.”
Steph tried to hide the way she bit her lip at that. “You’ll need to cut that out when you do my test…”
“What grade do you usually get?”
“A D?”
Pete smiled at her. “Do you think a high C will look too suspicious?” He asked as they traded their papers.
He might’ve been able to hear Steph’s elated giggle if the nerdy prude behind them didn’t lean between them.
“Cheaters!” Grace Chasity whisper-shouted.
“Oh god, butt out, Chastity!” Steph’s excited grin turned to a look of pure annoyance.
“Grace, just be cool,” Pete told her.
“Never?” She sat back down, spine ramrod straight just like the arm now sticking in the air. “Miss Mulberry?! They’re cheating!!!”
There goes the thrill of getting away with it…
“Peter! Stephanie! Principal’s office, now!”
As soon as the door shut behind them, Steph groaned loudly. “Grace Chasity, that little snitch! Man, I hate that nerdy prude!”
“I know right?” He agreed. “Some people need to learn to mind their own damn business.”
“Does that include me?” She asked. “Cause I was just about to ask about that shiner you got there…”
He was confused for a moment until he remembered his black eye. It didn’t hurt any more than the rest of his body. He laughed embarrassedly.
“Oh, yeah… Gift from my lifelong buddy Max Jägerman…”
Steph smiled at his sardonic tone. “What a joy that guy is, right? I hate that I’m lumped into a crowd with that jerk… Jocks are the worst.”
Peter laughed. “You’re telling me. Some of ‘em aren’t so bad when Max isn’t around, like Jason and Kyle.”
“You talk to people outside your clique?” She asked, surprised. Pete nodded.
“Well I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”
She shrugged with a small smile. “That’s fair…”
Pete didn’t notice how closely she was walking to him now that he was reminded of Max Jägerman. If he was walking down the hall and saw him with Steph, he’d get his ass beat again for sure, and today was supposed to be his Taking It Easy day…
“A lot of us popular kids have been talking about you, actually…” She brought up casually after a lull in conversation.
“Wha- me??”
She nodded. “Yeah, you. You’ve been shaking things up a little recently, yeah?”
“Just getting in the habit of getting out of my comfort zone…” He explained casually as if he didn’t get the idea from a version of him from the future. “I’m just trying to get myself accustomed to taking risks so I’m less scared to do it in the future.”
“Standing up to Max oughta do it…” She said. “I was in the crowd when you were practically goading him into kicking your ass. I didn’t know you were funny.”
Pete shrugged. “I wouldn’t say funny…”
“I like funny guys…” She noted, like that was a normal thing to say after calling him funny. “And you’re smart and rebellious?”
Pete blushed. “I wouldn’t say rebellious either.”
“Standing up to Max Jägerman is pretty rebellious, I’d say.” She held open the door leading out to campus for him so they could walk to the building the front office was in. “So is academic misconduct.”
“Cheating on a test is a small thing-”
“Three counts of it?” She interrupted.
Pete froze. She knew he edited her document and fucked with Sarah’s project too?
“You’re not that slick,” she said with a teasing grin. “I was in the bathroom and I came back with different information on my assignment that, after looking up, is the real correct info?”
“Anybody coulda-”
“Yeah, but who else would it be if not the nerd that sits next to me, huh?”
“How’d you know about Sarah Zimmerman’s posterboard?”
She laughed. “I watched you do it after school from the window on the door! I was going to drop off my project and saw you messing with one of them, and after I watched you leave, I saw Sarah’s project was covered in red sharpie. The big dick and balls right over the title was a nice touch.”
Peter couldn’t contain his laughter. “Thank you, thank you. She was especially pissed about that so I’m especially proud of it, as childish as that sounds.”
“Why Sarah?”
“She had it coming,” Peter said simply.
Steph raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “Oh really? How so?”
“She tore apart my friend Ruth’s poster, first of all,” Pete said.
“Ah, a loyal friend,” she noted and he smiled, shrugging modestly.
“Plus I have a personal vendetta against her.”
“Oh do tell!”
Pete sighed. He didn’t like rehashing this, but if his new friend wanted to know…
“One time, Brad Callahan pantsed me in the sixth grade right in front of her, then she started this rumor that-”
“Oh my god!!!” She interrupted excitedly. “ You’re Micro-Peter!!!”
“Oh god…” He said, trying not to laugh, because yeah… That’s him…
“You’re, like, famous!!!” She said, grabbing onto the sleeve of his sweater and shaking him by the arm. “… Can I ask about it?”
“It’s not actually a micropenis!” He defended. “It’s grown since then…” But apparently it was done, according to his future self…
“There goes your claim to fame…” She teased, feigning boredom. “So drawing a huge dick on her poster was an ironic calling card, in a way?”
“Maybe…” Peter said with a small smile.
“Weeeeeell…” Steph said. “It sounds like you only have half of the score settled.”
“Oh?”
“Gotta do something to Brad Callahan too, right? He is the guy that pantsed you, after all.”
Pete perked up. He had only destroyed Sarah’s project because the opportunity presented itself, not that he was purposely seeking opportunities to enact revenge. But since he had done so, he never thought about getting back at Brad too. “Steph, you’re a genius.”
“I am?!” She asked with a bit too much excitement in her voice. “I- I mean, I am!” She repeated in a much more nonchalant tone.
“If you need any help to get back at him, you can always ask me!” She offered. “I live off of spite and I hate that guy too, so I’d love to help!”
“Sounds fun!”
“And if you want any ideas for something else risky to do, I have plenty of suggestions for you…” She looked him up and down and the look in her eye almost made him feel scandalized. Was that a line?!
“Was that-”
“So when we get to the principal’s office, you ought to let me do the talking,” she changed the topic as they pushed into the door of the next building.
~~~
“I… Am so grounded…” Steph said as they left the principal’s office.
“This is the first time I’ve gotten in trouble,” Pete noted.
“I’m sorry I got you in trouble, I thought I could-”
“Hey, hey! Don’t even worry about it!” He grinned. “It’s all good. I expected to get in trouble if I got caught.”
“And you still tried to help me cheat anyways?”
He nodded. “I told you I was trying to take risks, right?” He asked. “Get caught, get away with it, no diff’. Just doing it for the experience.”
“Just to be able to tell yourself you did it?”
“Exactly!” He beamed. “If anything, I’m sorry that Grace snitched on us, but it gives you more time to study for a retake!”
Steph smiled sadly. “True, but… Studying is so difficult for me. I’m getting shit grades in a ton of classes, which is why I’m definitely about to get grounded.”
“I can help you study,” Pete replied like it was nothing.
“You know that’s just gonna piss Max off more.”
“Who is he, your dad? Why does he get a say?”
Peter stopped at the front desk between the principal’s office and the door to leave. “Do you have a post-it note and a pen?” He asked the staff member sitting there, and she presented him with such materials. He scribbled down something on the yellow paper and took the used post-it, handing the rest back and holding out the note to Steph.
“Here. Call me whenever and we can schedule a tutoring session.”
Stephanie clearly tried not to smile when she saw his number on it. “You got a death wish, Spankoffski…” She reached out to take the note. “What’s more risky than killing brain cells trying to tutor the dumbfucks?”
Pete immediately held the note out of her reach. “Woah, no no no! If I thought you were an unteachable dumbfuck, I would not be offering. I’m risking getting beat up for hanging out with a popular girl, not risking wasting my time.”
After the clarification, he held the note out to her again and she accepted.
“Among other motivations,” he added with a poorly hidden smirk.
Steph’s eyes widened in surprise and she bit the inside of her cheek as she fanned the blush away from her face with the post-it. Pete continued walking to class to avoid her seeing the blush on his face.
“Audacious bastard…” He heard her mutter. She hurried to catch up to him, but the two walked in silence the rest of the way back to Miss Mulberry’s classroom anyways. Pete was too preoccupied with the fact that flirting with Stephanie and giving her his number was not a risk he took to be ready to take a huge chance, that was his first huge chance to take. Wearing something new and messing with his bully were one thing, but being that close to asking out the girl he’s had a crush on for years was so different.
Later that day when Pete had gotten home, he grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the time, date, and a simple note.
If Stephanie Lauter isn’t what makes my future the right one, come tell me.
He put the paper in a plastic sleeve in the time travel section of his secret Space-Time Continuum Contingency binder and laid in bed for a minute. When no older versions of Peter showed up, he smiled. If Stephanie herself wasn’t the key, his effort in getting out of his comfort zone paying off definitely is.
Sure he was bruised up and waiting for something that should be fucking impossible, but here he was. To paraphrase one of his favorite time travel movies, by all counts he should be pretty fucked up right now, but he kind of felt great. He stood up to his bully and gave a gorgeous girl thirty times out of his league his number. Screw the future! He really did change the story...
Pete was out getting plastered,
Cause he knew he didn't have life mastered.
So he gained control, stepped from his role,
And became the Time Bastard.