Chapter Text
Friday night.
Patrick is alone at homecoming, for the second year in a row. Pete actually has a date this year, Andy is reading a comic book after a failed proposition to a girl, and Joe just got slapped in the face after whispering something into a girl's ear. So he's alone, yet again.
His first two attempts at getting a girl to dance with was a major failure. He was awkward, and the first girl just ended walking away from him. The second girl? Rubbed up on him as a joke to her friends. He desperately wants to find someone this year, and make the dance go well.
Patrick is sifting through the crowd until the back of your head catches his attention. He gingerly taps your shoulder, and you spin around quickly with widened eyes, surprised. He notices that you're already overwhelmed. Patrick sees your alarm and sputters a bunch of nonsense instead of the words he's intending to say. You make uncomfortable eye contact with him for a second and then you turn your head to the right and scoff. He dips his head down.
"I... Sorry"
Patrick mutters before scratching the back of his head. He then turns around, and scuttles away, and tries to find someone else to engage with.
***
You can't help but be intrigued with this chubby, blonde kid. You sweep your hair out of your face while you turn around to face your friends, still a little bit shaken up, but wishing you had eyes on the back of your head. You quickly remember that you're hanging out with your friends here, and divert your attention to them. They're curious, but you just try to dismiss their questions. "Who was that?", "Why was he talking to you?", and various other frustrating questions and laughs are all that surround you for a solid two minutes. You take a sip of whatever disgustingly sweet drink you have in your hand, wishing it was alcohol.
After you get a ride home from your friend's parents, you finally kick off your shoes, take off the heinously uncomfortable button up shirt your mom made you wear, and shimmy out of your skinny jeans. You step into the hot shower, steam rising all around you, trying to decompress after that loud, stressful party. You hop into a pair of pajama pants and an over-sized t-shirt once you get out of shower.
You pop in your favorite CD into your radio, and slip into bed. You toss and turn in bed, but you can't sleep. That boy from the dance is racing through your head all night long.