Chapter Text
Pete closed his eyes, trying to drone out the constant noise of the science classroom. He didn’t want to be here, but PC Principal had busted his ass along with Michael and Henrietta for skipping earlier and forced them to go to their respective classes. Walking in late and personally escorted by the principal of the school was just what Pete needed out of a class of students that already hated him. He had seen Brovlovski scoff when he dropped into the seat across from him and Stan, but a glare at him had shut him up pretty quick.
“Pete!”
He slowly opened his eyes, glaring at Stan who was staring at him. “What.” He deadpanned. Stan holds up a piece of paper with one too many problems on it for Pete to handle right now. “You know we have an assignment, right?” Pete raises an eyebrow. “You think I care?”
Stan shrugs, “I dunno, you should probably do it though. This class is required to graduate.” Pete rolls his eyes, “don’t care, I can just have Michael help me later anyway.”
Kyle lets out an annoyed huff, “just leave him be Stan, he obviously doesn’t care.” Stan sets down the paper, defeated. “Fine, whatever.” He goes back to working on his own project with Kyle, leaving Pete be, back with his thoughts. Which isn’t always good.
He closes his eyes, resting his head on his arms. He had to stay with Michael the other day, his dad was in another of his fits and had thrown Pete against a door in a fit of rage. His shoulder was still bruised as far as he could tell, but it was getting better.
He jolts at the ring of the bell, signaling the end of his class and the start of his lunch hour. He grabbed his stuff quickly, rushing out the door and down to meet Michael by his locker.
“You actually went back to class? God you’re a conformist.” Michael states, spinning the lock open on his locker. Pete lets out a huff, leaning against the locker next to Michael’s. “I didn’t have much of a choice, asshole. PC Principal literally dragged me in there and practically threw me into my seat.” Michael snorts, “you’re not hard to pick up.” Pete feels his face flush slightly, “oh fuck off Michael.”
Michael shuts his locker door, smirking down at Pete, “you’d hate if I left.” He states, turning away and heading towards the cafeteria. Pete runs his hands down his face, groaning as he pushes himself off the locker and follows Michael down, like his forever loyal shadow.
“Hey.” Henrietta greets them, looking up from her book to greet them at their normal table. “Hey.” Michael nods at her, sliding out a chair for Pete before taking a seat himself. “Ugh, what are they doing here.” He narrows his eyes at the Vamp Kids, who are sitting near the end of the table. Henrietta shrugs, “they sat down there and I was too lazy to yell at them and waste my voice.”
Michael glares at them before taking out his phone. Pete slides into the chair next to him, “you gonna get food?” Michael glances at him, “food for you or me?” Pete shrugs, “you honestly, you should eat food.” Michael turns slightly, “not hungry, I’ll get you something though.” He stands up from the table, gesturing at Pete to come with him. They walk over to the cafeteria line, getting jostled by a group of jocks.
“Assholes.” Pete calls, flicking them off as Michael straightens up next to him, glaring. “Lord I hate this school.” Pete nods, “yeah, me too.”
They manage to survive the lunch line, coming back to their table with a couple sandwiches and chips. Pete immediately tears into his food, Michael gently tearing his bag of chips open. Henrietta looks at them from over her book, “praise Satan you’re back, I could not handle these douchey little vamp kids sitting any closer to me.”
Michael nods, pushing the bag of chips toward Pete. “There’s so many other tables, but they have to sit here. It’s so annoying.” He takes one chip out of the bag, breaking it into smaller pieces before eating it. Henrietta nods, “you think they’d avoid us, especially Count Fagula himself.”
“Yeah, totally.” Pete agrees, taking another bite of the sandwich. He remembers sending Mike, or at least attempting to, send him to Scottsdale. But somehow Mike had ended up at his side with everything else, during the Black Friday wars, and to help defeat the emos. Personally, he didn’t care for Mike, but he wasn’t the worst person ever. He had even gotten more alternative, leaving more into scene and punk styles rather than being adorned with Twilight merchandise.
“Pete.” He blinks out of his thoughts, Michal has his fingers in front of his face. “Dude stop.” He pushes Michael’s hand down to the table.
That used to be harder to do, Pete thinks to himself. Michael sighs, “you’re leaving us again, mentally.” Pete shakes his head, “no I was listening.” Michael raises his eyebrows, “alright, whatever you say.”
Pete looks down at his sandwich, “you sure you don’t want any?” Michael shakes his head hard, “I’m fine Pete.”
“Alright,” Pete takes another bite, looking up and locking eyes with Mike. They stare at each other for a moment, Mike smiles softly at him before turning back to his own friends. Pete blinks, returning his focus to his food, tuning out the conversation Michael and Henrietta are having.
***************************************
Pete lets out a relieved sigh when the final bell for the day finally rings. He gathers his stuff into his bag, heading out for the busses. He keeps his head down, turning into the first open seat he finds, leaning against the window. He stays that way until he reaches his stop.
He carefully unlocks his door, shutting it as quietly as possible behind him. His shoes thud quietly against the floor as he peers into the small sitting room. His dad is passed out on the couch, empty beer bottles adorn the floor. He turns away, heading into his room, the one place that is truly his.
The small trailer doesn’t have much space for a lot, but he made sure to have the biggest bedroom, no point in his dad having it when he’s either sleeping around town or on the couch in front of the TV. Pete has made sure to cover every surface with posters and pictures. He sits down on his bed, taking out his phone and looking at his notifications, one number catching his eye.
hey ! ! hope u and ur friends didn’t mind us sitting with u :/
the librarian kicked us out of the library TwT
Pete sighed, he had forgotten that he had exchanged numbers with Mike back when the emos were a problem, and had just never deleted it, and it seemed Mike had done the same. He types a quick reply,
don’t worry abt it. it wasn’t a problem
He pauses,
however if it becomes regular it will probably be a problem.
He turns his phone off, taking out his school computer to check the science Stan had been so adamant on him doing. He groans, scrolling through the page of directions. He shuts the computer, grabbing his phone and plugging his headphones into it. He turns on one of his playlists and reopens his computer, attempting to get some of the assignment done for at least partial credit.
He manages to get half an hour of work in until his father wakes up from the couch. He doesn’t hear his door open until his dad yells at him.
“PETER.”
Pete jumps, knowing his headphones down around his neck, eyes wide. “Dad, I was being quiet, if I woke you up I’m sorry.” He backs up against the wooden frame of the bed, trying not to breathe in the sour stench of alcohol. His dad is breathing heavily, eyes tracing the room. “The hell are you doing in here boy.”
It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. Pete swallows, “I was doing some work for classes, it’s almost the end of the year.” His dad snorts, “if you’re so invested in your school work mind telling me why I get a phone call about you skipping classes?”
Pete’s stomach drops, he hadn’t expected them to actually call his dad. “I can explain dad I swear I won’t skip anymore-“ His sentence is cut off by his dad hauling him up by his collar. “I don’t send you to that shithole for you to bum around and do nothin. You hear me?”
Pete squeezes his eyes shut, nodding his head. “Goddamn useless son of a bitch.” His dad mutters, dropping him onto the floor, heading to the doorway. He turns around, glaring at Pete. “Who the hell is this?” He grabs Pete’s phone off the floor, “wait dad no don’t,” Pete reaches for it, getting pushed back down by his father.
His dad turns his steely gaze back to him. “I thought I told you no more hanging out with those faggy friends of yours.” He looks Pete up and down, “wash that shit off your face too unless you want out of this house.”
Pete sinks onto the floor, shrinking away from him as he steps closer. He gives a sharp hit to the side of his face, “I said get out.”
Pete gasps at him, “what.” His dad’s gaze doesn’t lessen. “Out Peter. Until you can handle yourself instead of curling up like a pussy.” He tosses the phone into the bed beside Pete, heading out of his room. Pete stays sitting on his floor, staring blankly at the opposing wall. He pushes himself up, grabbing his phone and shoves the things he’ll need into his backpack.
He looks down at his phone, seeing the messages from Mike on his screen.
okay ! !
i just wanted to make sure
cuz yk
u want to come over sometime ? ? ?
my mom said it wud be ok
pete ?
u alive lol ?
i hope ur alive and just doing something else
or ignoring me i guess that’s an option
srry :(
He clutches his phone in his hand. He takes a deep breath before dropping his backpack out his window, climbing out after it. He walks for a bit, debating on answering the messages or just going to Michael’s house. He knows Michael’s mom will hug him, tell him that him and Michael don’t eat enough for growing boys, and that he should stay the night.
He paces the parking lot of the playground for a bit, ignoring the glares from mothers with their kids as he lights a cigarette. He exhales slowly, turning and heading towards the last location he knew Mike lived at.