FicWad

Yeah, really short, I know.
So sue me. My head hurts.
Go read Jessi's first story, Down Memory Lane. Her username is sourcream.
This chapter is for Jessi ^^

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"So...I'm not aloud drugs, and no alcohol until eight o'clock at night?" Hannah asked.
"Nice try, but no alcohol EVER." Pete rolled his eyes.
Hannah pouted and crossed her arms.
"I can't believe Mackena talked me into this." she murmured.
Pete frowned;
"What?"
"Eh...nothing. Anyway, what else am I not aloud?"
"Cigarettes."
Hannah glared evilly at him.
"I'm supposed to just quit smoking cold turkey?"
"Doctors say it's the best and most effective-"
"Oh, don't lecture me." Hannah scowled. This was going to be more than she bargained for. Booze would be easy to get away with on weekends and stuff, but he's be able to smell smoke on her all the time. She's actually have to quit smoking. Drugs...meh. Some people don't know what they smell like, maybe she could get away with it, maybe not. She crossed her arms and threw herself back into the cushions of the couch, her face sour.
"Awww, sweetheart..." Pete put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "You want to do this, right? You want to be clean?"
"Mmhmm." Hannah breathed grudgingly.
"Then you have to make an effort."
Hannah didn't answer.
"Now...diet."
"What?"
"You can be reeeally strict about this; no caffeine. Vegan. The works."
"Ah, no. Do I have to?"
"No," Pete laughed, "That's being a bit too fanatical...there is another thing." Pete's voice went sly, and his arm slipped down her back until his hand was resting on her ass.
"What's that?"
He leaned over and whispered in her ear,
"Casual sex."
"Mmm, none of that." Hannah whispered back, half smiling.
"Whelp, that settles that, then. No more booze, drugs, smoke or...naked peekaboo." Pete grinned.
"Ahahah. You're too funny." Hannah rolled her eyes.

"Well, Mr.Stumph, I think this cast can come off in about a week." the doctor said, pulling off his rubber gloves and throwing them in the trash, dusting off his hands and grabbing a clipboard. Patrick jumped down from the table and grinned.
"Great. I'm sick of it."
The doctor laughed good-naturedly;
"It was only a minor fracture, you should be good as new within two weeks."
"Good to know."
Patrick shook the doctor's hand and left the office at a pace that was almost skipping. Hannah stood up from her place in the waiting room, guiltily throwing down a tabloid with the headline, "BRITNEY SPEAR- GAY?"

"So..."
"Cast can come off next week, I should be healed in two." Patrick replied proudly.
"Aww, my Tricky, that's great " Hannah beamed down at him- notice, down at him.
"You're so tall." he replied weakly.
Hannah laughed a little too loudly, earning her malevolent glares from the patients in the waiting room. The two left the doctors office quickly, and Hannah calmed down;
"I'm only, like, 2 inches taller than you."
"I'm 5'3 "
"I'm 5'5. So...hah."
Patrick rolled his eyes.
"I hate being short...good God, I wish I was tall."
"That's one of your old lyrics."
"Yeah...how'd you know?"
"Pete gave me a copy of your guy's indie album. It's pretty good."
"Hah," Patrick said bitterly, "It sucked ass. I can't write lyrics."
"Aww, sure y'can."
Patrick stopped dead and turned to stare at her.
"Oh yeah? 'When the moonlight, hits your bright eyes I go blind...'" Patrick sang a few bars, "See? Corny."
But Hannah was looking at him like she couldn't figure something out. Her eyes were flickering back and forth ever so slightly as she studied his eyes, her face blank. Patrick held his breath; she was leaning in a little bit, she had closed her eyes; Patrick was scared. Sure, he wanted this, but not like this, not now, not while she was Pete's...suddenly, Hannah drew a sharp breath and opened her eyes, stumbling back a few feet and into a small bush that lined the city sidewalk.
"Patrick, I- that- you- UGH " she cried out in frustration, spinning around once on the spot, clutching her short hair.
"Hey, you- I- well- you started-" Patrick stammered.
"This isn't supposed to happen, no, not you, not like this, not ever- Patrick " Hannah flew forward and grabbed both of his wrist, "Patrick, look, don't get any ideas, please. It was the singing, that's all it was, I don't- I mean, it's not- I have a boyfriend !" she cried finally.
Patrick decided to act like he understood, like this happened all the time, girl went around trying to kiss him all the time, yeah- that sounded good.
"Hannah, calm down," Patrick sounded overly confident and smooth, "I understand. It was the singing. You're with Pete. Nothing could ever happen between us, I mean, it's us," he laughed a little nervously, and continued, "Besides. I don't like you like that anyways, I mean, no offense..."
Hannah relaxed, and let go of Patrick's wrists.
"Okay. I got carried away, that's all."
They continued walking, in total silence. As soon as they got home, Hannah disappeared downstairs, not resurfacing even for dinner that night. Patrick was puzzled; he should be the depressed one. He should be the one who wanted the kiss to happen...he laughed at himself, telling himself that Hannah didn't want it. That was wishful thinking.

Alone downstairs, Hannah cried herself to sleep.