I will stand outside, wait for you to come find me.
I managed to avoid all the people I knew that would bombard me with questions of me returning without Pete. Which was pretty much everyone. They all seemed caught up in their own lives to notice me as my boss handed me a key for my room for the next two days, not even looking up from his clipboard, and hurriedly walked away.
I came to room twenty-seven, my brown messenger bag secured tightly under my arm, I looked down at my key to make sure it was the right room. I opened the door and as soon as I stepped inside it's security, shutting the door quietly behind me, I broke down. Not even making it to the bed, I fell weakly to my knees, letting my bag slip from under my arm and onto the office floor carpet. I buried my face into my hands and sobbed loudly, feeling my mascara clump together as hot tears ran down my cheeks.
He was so stupid. Everyone else cold see what she was doing. Just as Pete starts to move on, she comes back in, like hurricane Katrina, underestimated and destroying everything in her path. Her perfect, plump, pink, lips, her perfect dark brown eyes, her perfect soft, black, hair, and all her perfect ness pulling him away from reality. Then she sucks him up dry, lifeless, and somewhat, broke, and leaves him crawling back to me. The rebound. She was gold digging at best.
I was so stupid. To let his 'I need you's', and his 'I love you's', get to my head, twice. I was just a rebound friend, who he knew would do anything for him. I could've just given him the cold shoulder, and walked away saying, "I told you so," but I had to play hero. I had to try to make him see there was someone out there that cared for Peter Kingston Lewis Wentz the third, and not just Pete from Fall Out Boy.
I cried for another good five minutes before I could recollect myself and drag my body to the perfect made hotel bed, that turned into a mound of sheets and pillows that I hid from the world under, until my eyelids grew exhausted, and shut completely closed.
Patrick's soothing voice echoed in the small room. His hand brushed the hair away from my face, but I kept my eyes shut. I felt the bed indent with his weight as he sat down next to me.
"Aarie," he said softly, reminding me of my mother when she'd wake me after we had one of our big fights to apologize. I didn't want to open my eyes, but I shifted a little as he scooted closer to me. "Aaryn Anne," he said a little more sternly as he put his arm around me from behind me, careful not to touch anywhere he wasn't supposed to.
I rolled over and faced him, pulling the comforter up to my chin. He had a warm smile that matched his brown eyes and fair skin. I couldn't help but smile back. He rubbed his hands across my cheeks, and rubbed it off on the comforter with a playful disgusted face, leaving black spots on it. He pulled his green beanie hat and ran his hand though his messy hair, making it stick up in certain places. I rested my head onto his chest and he wrapped his arms around my body, placing his chin on top of my chin. He didn't have to say anything to make me feel better. His presence was enough for me.
"Heard what happened?" I asked. He nodded, his chin pressing on my head. I sighed. "I don't know what to do Trick..."
Patrick stroked his fingers up and down my arm. "There isn't much you can do," his voice had a tint of sadness with it, "except be there when she leaves."
I would've pulled away from him, but I currently needed his comfort.
"Why should I?" He lifted his chin from my head and tilted it to the side to look down at me.
"You care for him too much to not do anything."
It was true. Even though I hated to admit it. That was the honest truth. The familiar feeling of tears building up rushed over me. Patrick frowned a little, and placed a kiss on my forehead. I looked away from him, ashamed for him to see me like this, even though he had probably already did half a dozen times.
"I feel like this is all my fault," I choked, sniffling.
"Why's that doll?" He placed his hand under my chin, lifting my head to look back up at him, he had his warm smile on his face again.
I shrugged. "I don't know." I tried to blink back tears, but one managed to escape.
"Aaryn," he started as he brushed the tear away from my face, "you can't blame yourself for Pete's stupidity."
"But I do!" I cried.
"Shh," he stroked my arm again as he rocked me gently like a baby, "he needs you more than he knows."
"Oh really?" He nodded, his lips scrunching up to one side of his face and his eyebrows raised as he did. "How do you know?"
"It's just one of those things that you don't have to say to be able to see it. I've seen Pete at his all time lows, and his all time highs," he patted my cheek softly, "and his highs are when he's with you. Not Audrie."
"Right..." I said disbelievingly, "that's why I'm here, crying."
"And that's what I'm here for," he pointed to himself, "I should come with my own business card. STUMPH, Here To Bring You Happiness With Unicorns and Rainbows."
I laughed at his serious face. "Sounds more like a gay convention."
"Don't rain on my parade Aaryn."
"Sorry," I pinched his cheek a little. We sat for a little while, saying nothing to each other, but I broke the silence. "Why does he always go back to her Trick?" I mumbled.
"Because he's like a fly drawn to a light. Except he's more like a dog, and the light is Audrie's chest." I laughed again and he smiled. I knew it always made him happy to see me laugh. "But seriously, he says he doesn't know. I think it's because...she always left him hanging, and he always wondered what would happen if he would take her back, but no matter what, he's going to come back to you. It's like one of those corny Degrassi TV shows."
"I love you Trick," I said as I buried my face into his chest, taking in his scents of sweat and old musk.
"You should tell Peter that sometime."
"If he gets another sometime..." I muttered, pulling the blanket up over my shoulder.
Patrick laughed heartily as I felt his chest rise and fall with his laughter.
"He loves you Aarie."
I sighed. "I know, I know."
I felt slightly better, but there was still the feeling of getting shot through the heart. Letting out a hoarse cough, I leaned over, covering my mouth, that was now covered in germs.
"Sounds like you're getting a cold there."
"Great," I sniggled, "just to top everything off."
He screwed up my hair, and I pulled away from him.
"Pete would be stupid to let you go again Aarie," Patrick placed a hand on my thigh, "you're too good for him."
A smile spread across my face, "I'm jealous of Bailey," I said.
"Psh, she has to put up with my geeky ass," he pushed his glasses up onto his nose.
I shook my head. "You're lucky Trick. To have someone love you back."
"I know," he smirked. He looked down at his black Velcro watch and his eyes widened. "Shit, I almost forgot about me and Bailey's date tonight."
He scooted off the bed, and I went to follow, but he stopped me. "I can close the door myself, don't worry."
I didn't think twice and settled back in bed. "Thanks Trick, " he pulled on his hat and nodded as he headed to the door. "Oh, before you go," I said remembering.
"Yeah?" he stopped with his hand on the doorknob.
"Who told you what happened?"
"Pete ran in the bus, asking for the keys to the rental while he was on the phone, then rushed off. Then I went to go find you, but your boss told me you went to your room. I pieced two and two together... I mean, we are in New Mexico... so it wasn't that hard."
I frowned a little, remembering what had happened. Patrick pouted. "You're gonna make me lateee." I smiled and he grinned back. "Much better." He opened the door and the hallway light filled the dimly lit room. "I'll send up some ice cream," he laughed as he stepped out into the hallway.
The door slowly shut behind him as I put a hand on my stomach. It growled loudly. Ice cream sounded so perfect right now.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand Six hundred minutes.
Rent sang for probably the fifth thousandth time tonight through my bag. Glancing at it for a second, I hugged my pillow tighter, and refocused back onto the novella on the screen, letting the phone go into the chorus.
"Por que Juan? POR QUE?" The Mexican lady sobbed as she fell to her knees in front of her cheating husband, hands reaching to the sky.
"Yeah, por que Juan?" I said back at the T.V. raising my fist and shaking it at him.
"Porque el corazon no le adora."
The beautiful woman's head drooped down, letting her perfect falcon black hair fall in her face.
"Ah mi dios!" she cried, clawing at the fur rug, falling completely over as he stepped over her limp body as if it were a log. He walked out the door without a second glance. I gripped the sides of the pillow and sat forward, ready to take In what else this novella could throw at me. But just my un-luck, it went to commercials.
"Destino's will return after these short messages," The narrator said with a thick accent.
"EstÃºpido!" In rage, I threw a pillow at the man standing in front of a Mexican restaurant in a tinted grey suit. How dare they leave me wondering.
I changed the channel randomly, fed up with the greasy Mexican food on the screen. It went to MTV, and two lesbians were eating each others faces on a bus. I quickly changed it.
"Why don't you show me little bit-"
I shut off the T.V., groaning. Nothing good was on, but when was there anything good on Monday nights? Tossing the covers off of me, I slid off the bed and went toward the door where I left my bag. I sat down where it laid, and pulled it into my lap. Unbuttoning the flap, I reached inside and felt around for my phone until I grabbed it.
Twenty-seven missed calls. Pete was on top of the missed calls list with a three In brackets next to his name. Next was Syd with twelve, then Fluer with eight, and Patrick with four.
I dialed my voicemail and a monotone voice stated I had six new messages.
First unheard message:
Where you at? Tonight is Syd and Aarie night?
Second unheard message:
"You twat. Answer your-"
I pressed the delete button, smiling at Syd's random messages.
Third unheard message:
"It's Fleur. We're rooming tonight!"
Fourth unheard message:
"What did you do to my best friend? - Oh is it recording? - Wentz is a dick. How dare he walk away from me. Where are you? We ran out of sugared peanuts!"
Fifth unheard message:
Hey Aaryn. It's Patrick. Just calling to see what you're up to. Uhm, I'm guessing you found your room... talk to you soon."
Sixth unheard message:
There was a sigh, some shuffling, and a cough.
"End of messages, if you want-"
I closed my phone and shoved it into my pocket. My travel bags sat neatly near the door, Patrick must've brought them in here. Under the handle, there was a small, folded, white, paper tucked in it. I grabbed it and recognized the handwriting instantly
I'm sorry. Love you.