Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Let's Spend Tonight on Top of the World
Wouldn't it be great if we were dead? Oh, dead.
3 reviewsI think you might be a little bit happier. But hey, I'm wrong 99.9% of the time.
0Unrated
He opened the door, and I giggled silently, following him on my tip toes. The ride to his apartment complex had been quiet...at least no actual words had been spoken.
He lead the way into the living room, where I followed him.
And then my hips started to vibrate.
No, not like I was dancing or...anything. My cell phone started vibrating insanely, like it was on drugs.
Dave stared at me as I pulled it out of my skirt pocket and checked the ID. I didn't know the number, but who else would call at one in the morning? I flipped it open and said "Hello?"
"Hi, Michelle? It's Pete."
Thud.
"Hi, Pete," I said, looking at Dave. He wore a look of confusion. I held my index finger up to my lips and mouthed "be quiet for a second."
"I just called to say I'm really sorry for acting like a complete asshole tonight. And that Patrick told me you didn't go home with that guy you met tonight. And so I wanted to tell you how glad I am that you didn't, because you don't know him and he could be some psychopath. Plus, I think he's not even good enough for you."
My breath caught in my throat. I stayed silent, but I didn't think it was a problem because Pete rolled on.
"And I wanted to say that since your birthday isn't that far away, I wanted to ask if you wanted to do something together on your birthday."
"Pete, I--"
"Shh, I need to say this. It would mean a lot to me if you said yes. I feel like I need to do something to show you that I'm sorry."
"Pete, I know you're sorry, but--"
"Michelle, please."
I glanced over at Dave, who seemed to be picking at his fingernail. I was starting to feel nervous, like Pete's call was a sign, telling me to get the hell out of here.
"Yes, Pete. I'd love to."
I could almost hear Pete smile over the phone. "Great! Well I'm sorry for calling this late, I just needed to let this out."
"It's okay. I'm glad you called." And I really truly was.
"Well, I'll see you soon."
"Okay, see you."
"And Michelle?"
My breath caught again. "Yes, Pete?"
"Thanks for giving me another chance." And I heard the dial tone before I could respond. I slid the phone back in my pocket and started making my way towards the door. Maybe Dave was still preoccupied with his fingernail and--
"Michelle? Are you okay?"
I looked at him and threw on a sick, weakish smile. How else was I going to get out of here? Nobody knew where I was at all. And I couldn't throw a punch at all.
"I think I'm coming down with something...I'm just going to go home. I'm sorry, I'll see you Wednesday?"
Dave raised an eyebrow. If he was going to kidnap me, it'd be now. But instead, surprisingly (maybe it was just Pete's phone call getting me all paranoid), he said "I hope you feel better. And yes, you will definitely see me Wednesday."
"Okay...bye," I said, and left quickly before he could realize I didn't have a ride home.
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Later that night, as I fell into the covers on the fold-out couch, it wasn't Dave's face in my dreams, like I'd thought.
You guess.
He lead the way into the living room, where I followed him.
And then my hips started to vibrate.
No, not like I was dancing or...anything. My cell phone started vibrating insanely, like it was on drugs.
Dave stared at me as I pulled it out of my skirt pocket and checked the ID. I didn't know the number, but who else would call at one in the morning? I flipped it open and said "Hello?"
"Hi, Michelle? It's Pete."
Thud.
"Hi, Pete," I said, looking at Dave. He wore a look of confusion. I held my index finger up to my lips and mouthed "be quiet for a second."
"I just called to say I'm really sorry for acting like a complete asshole tonight. And that Patrick told me you didn't go home with that guy you met tonight. And so I wanted to tell you how glad I am that you didn't, because you don't know him and he could be some psychopath. Plus, I think he's not even good enough for you."
My breath caught in my throat. I stayed silent, but I didn't think it was a problem because Pete rolled on.
"And I wanted to say that since your birthday isn't that far away, I wanted to ask if you wanted to do something together on your birthday."
"Pete, I--"
"Shh, I need to say this. It would mean a lot to me if you said yes. I feel like I need to do something to show you that I'm sorry."
"Pete, I know you're sorry, but--"
"Michelle, please."
I glanced over at Dave, who seemed to be picking at his fingernail. I was starting to feel nervous, like Pete's call was a sign, telling me to get the hell out of here.
"Yes, Pete. I'd love to."
I could almost hear Pete smile over the phone. "Great! Well I'm sorry for calling this late, I just needed to let this out."
"It's okay. I'm glad you called." And I really truly was.
"Well, I'll see you soon."
"Okay, see you."
"And Michelle?"
My breath caught again. "Yes, Pete?"
"Thanks for giving me another chance." And I heard the dial tone before I could respond. I slid the phone back in my pocket and started making my way towards the door. Maybe Dave was still preoccupied with his fingernail and--
"Michelle? Are you okay?"
I looked at him and threw on a sick, weakish smile. How else was I going to get out of here? Nobody knew where I was at all. And I couldn't throw a punch at all.
"I think I'm coming down with something...I'm just going to go home. I'm sorry, I'll see you Wednesday?"
Dave raised an eyebrow. If he was going to kidnap me, it'd be now. But instead, surprisingly (maybe it was just Pete's phone call getting me all paranoid), he said "I hope you feel better. And yes, you will definitely see me Wednesday."
"Okay...bye," I said, and left quickly before he could realize I didn't have a ride home.
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Later that night, as I fell into the covers on the fold-out couch, it wasn't Dave's face in my dreams, like I'd thought.
You guess.
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