Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Homesick at Spacecamp
Pete knocked on the apartment door, and he heard footsteps shuffling towards it. It opened to reveal Patrick, who stepped aside and let Pete enter.
"What's up?"
"Aw, Nothing, I'm just bored, thought we could hang out." Pete said with a shrug, seating himself at one of the high bar stools in the kitchen.
"It's laundry day." Patrick replied, gesturing towards the baskets of dirty clothing in the living room.
"I'll help out, I guess. Where are Em and Joe?"
"In the bedrooms, getting the rest of the clothes."
"There's more?!" Pete exclaimed, turning In bewilderment to the 5 bins already stacked beside the couch.
"We haven't done any laundry in a month." Patrick laughed.
"Is it too late to take back me offer?" Pete asked helplessly.
"Sorry, buddy, but we can use all the help we can get." Patrick answered with a grin.
"Dammit." Pete muttered. Then he had an idea; he reached for the phone and began to dial.
"Who're you calling?"
"Andy," Pete said with a devilish grin as he raised the phone to his ear, "I'm gonna lure him into the trap."
"We can use all the help we can get." Patrick said again with a shrug.
The five friends left the apartment, carrying the seven baskets full of dirty laundry.
"Let's go for ice cream, he says," Andy muttered angrily, eyeing the two baskets he was carrying with distaste, "Maybe catch a movie."
Emily laughed.
"Oh, Andy, We'll get ice cream later."
"Later as in to marrow? This laundry will take all night!"
"Yeah, Maybe."
Andy rolled his eyes as they left the apartment building and headed down the Chicago sidewalk. The run-down house next to the apartment building caught Pete's eye, and he burst out laughing, pointing at a pick-up truck that sat pathetically in the gravel driveway.
"God, that thing is ugly!"
The others looked at it and laughed, too. The truck was made up of different parts of old chevies and fords, and was painted several different colors; red, green, and a sickly yellow.
"It looks like a traffic light." Emily decided.
"I'll say." And y set down the baskets he was carrying and pulled his camera out of his coat pocket.
"Oh, God, Andy, do you have to bring that thing everywhere?" Emily sighed.
"Yep." he replied bluntly, and he snapped several pictures of the hideous truck.
"Scrapbook?" she inquired matter-of-factly.
"You know it." he grinned back.
"Emily, why is it that you have a whole basket more of clothes than Joe and Pat?" Pete wondered out loud, gesturing towards the last basket of clothing that had yet to make it into a machine. Emily opened her mouth to reply, but she was cut off by Joe.
"Because chicks are, like, ADDICTED to shopping, or something. They have way too many clothes."
"Hey!" Emily exclaimed, "Have you seen what I wear?! Band shirts and jeans, not lace and cashmere!"
"Uh, then, Em, how do you explain...this?" Pete laughed, pulling a lacy red thong out of the basket. The boys exploded with laughter, and Emily grew pale with embarrassment.
"Gimme that!" she hissed, making a grab towards the underwear, but Pete raised it high above is head.
"Who didja wear that for?" he asked slyly, his familiar devilish grin curling menacingly across his lips.
"Peter! Give it back, NOW!"
"Tell me who-"
"PETE! GIVE IT!" Emily cried, cutting him off and jumping up and down, trying to reach the thong. She saw the flash on Andy's camera go off.
"Andy!" she snapped, not turning around, "You aren't making this any better!"
They all laughed, clearly amused. Emily dropped her arms, staring at Pete pleadingly.
"Please, Pete."
"Make me."
"Why are you such an asshole?"
"It's my job."
"Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz II, give it back!"
"Make me." he repeated, grinning.
Emily sighed, feeling helpless. Pete wasn't easily persuaded. Then she had and idea; a spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment idea. But she knew it would work, as well as show him 'who's boss'. She threw her arms around Pete's neck, pulling his head down to her level. She pressed her lips against his momentarily. In his state of shock, he dropped the thong, and Emily snatched it up just before it hit the ground. The four boys stood there in shock! Pete, still hunched over slightly, his mouth agape, a dazed look in his eyes. Andy, holding his camera out, his finger still right over the button, as though frozen in mid-picture. Patrick and Joe, sitting on top of a dryer, their eyes wide with surprise. Emily flashed them a self-satisfied smirk, stuffing the lacy red thong back in it's basket.
"I told you to give it back, Peter." she laughed, grabbed her basket, and walked down the row to a free machine.
Emily placed the last of her clean laundry in her dresser, shoving the lacy red thong to the back. She crawled into her bed, exhausted. She pondered what she had done; now that she was thinking clearly, she realized pretty stupid. What had Pete thought? What had the others thought? She squeezed her eyes shut tight, and bit her lip, attempting to repress the memory. She opened her eyes again and glanced at her alarm clock; 12:42, it's neon-green numbers boasted. She sighed and crawled out of bed. She slid into her slippers and padded down the hallway until she came to Joe and Patrick's room. The door was open, so she knocked lightly on the door frame.
"Guys? Are you awake?" she called softly.
"Emily?" came Patrick's voice.
"I can't sleep." she replied, stepping into the room. She crossed the darkened space over to Patrick's twin bed at the far corner of the room, and crawled under the covers. He put his arm around her.
"Why not?" Joe's voice joined in. Emily watched as his figure emerged from darkness and crawled into bed next to her, squishing Emily between the two boys.
"Because I'm stupid." she answered finally.
"Don't say that, Emmy." Patrick sighed.
"I am, though. I shouldn't have kissed Pete."
"Em, it's no big deal, it's not like there was any tongue."
Emily shuddered at the thought of any tongue.
"Yeah, he was teasing you and you showed him who's boss. Besides, you kiss us on the cheek all the time." Joe agreed.
"Okay, lips and cheeks are two completely different things." Emily moaned, covering her face with her hands.
"Pete knows you were kidding around, Emily." Joe told her.
"Are you sure?"
There was a pause, and Joe pondered what Pete had told him several weeks ago; "I can't stop thinking about her, Joe. It's like she's what keeps me living and breathing." He then pondered what Pete had told him after Emily had walked away at the Laundromat; "There was no tongue, but, God, I wish there was." And, at that moment, Joe decided to lie.
"Yeah."
Emily sighed with relief, and snuggled into with her friends. They were silent for a long time.
"Promise me something?" Emily spoke finally.
"Anything." Patrick answered.
"Never leave me. Where ever you go, I go."
"We promise, Emily." Patrick whispered, and the three friends fell asleep, Emily cradled in their arms
"What's up?"
"Aw, Nothing, I'm just bored, thought we could hang out." Pete said with a shrug, seating himself at one of the high bar stools in the kitchen.
"It's laundry day." Patrick replied, gesturing towards the baskets of dirty clothing in the living room.
"I'll help out, I guess. Where are Em and Joe?"
"In the bedrooms, getting the rest of the clothes."
"There's more?!" Pete exclaimed, turning In bewilderment to the 5 bins already stacked beside the couch.
"We haven't done any laundry in a month." Patrick laughed.
"Is it too late to take back me offer?" Pete asked helplessly.
"Sorry, buddy, but we can use all the help we can get." Patrick answered with a grin.
"Dammit." Pete muttered. Then he had an idea; he reached for the phone and began to dial.
"Who're you calling?"
"Andy," Pete said with a devilish grin as he raised the phone to his ear, "I'm gonna lure him into the trap."
"We can use all the help we can get." Patrick said again with a shrug.
The five friends left the apartment, carrying the seven baskets full of dirty laundry.
"Let's go for ice cream, he says," Andy muttered angrily, eyeing the two baskets he was carrying with distaste, "Maybe catch a movie."
Emily laughed.
"Oh, Andy, We'll get ice cream later."
"Later as in to marrow? This laundry will take all night!"
"Yeah, Maybe."
Andy rolled his eyes as they left the apartment building and headed down the Chicago sidewalk. The run-down house next to the apartment building caught Pete's eye, and he burst out laughing, pointing at a pick-up truck that sat pathetically in the gravel driveway.
"God, that thing is ugly!"
The others looked at it and laughed, too. The truck was made up of different parts of old chevies and fords, and was painted several different colors; red, green, and a sickly yellow.
"It looks like a traffic light." Emily decided.
"I'll say." And y set down the baskets he was carrying and pulled his camera out of his coat pocket.
"Oh, God, Andy, do you have to bring that thing everywhere?" Emily sighed.
"Yep." he replied bluntly, and he snapped several pictures of the hideous truck.
"Scrapbook?" she inquired matter-of-factly.
"You know it." he grinned back.
"Emily, why is it that you have a whole basket more of clothes than Joe and Pat?" Pete wondered out loud, gesturing towards the last basket of clothing that had yet to make it into a machine. Emily opened her mouth to reply, but she was cut off by Joe.
"Because chicks are, like, ADDICTED to shopping, or something. They have way too many clothes."
"Hey!" Emily exclaimed, "Have you seen what I wear?! Band shirts and jeans, not lace and cashmere!"
"Uh, then, Em, how do you explain...this?" Pete laughed, pulling a lacy red thong out of the basket. The boys exploded with laughter, and Emily grew pale with embarrassment.
"Gimme that!" she hissed, making a grab towards the underwear, but Pete raised it high above is head.
"Who didja wear that for?" he asked slyly, his familiar devilish grin curling menacingly across his lips.
"Peter! Give it back, NOW!"
"Tell me who-"
"PETE! GIVE IT!" Emily cried, cutting him off and jumping up and down, trying to reach the thong. She saw the flash on Andy's camera go off.
"Andy!" she snapped, not turning around, "You aren't making this any better!"
They all laughed, clearly amused. Emily dropped her arms, staring at Pete pleadingly.
"Please, Pete."
"Make me."
"Why are you such an asshole?"
"It's my job."
"Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz II, give it back!"
"Make me." he repeated, grinning.
Emily sighed, feeling helpless. Pete wasn't easily persuaded. Then she had and idea; a spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment idea. But she knew it would work, as well as show him 'who's boss'. She threw her arms around Pete's neck, pulling his head down to her level. She pressed her lips against his momentarily. In his state of shock, he dropped the thong, and Emily snatched it up just before it hit the ground. The four boys stood there in shock! Pete, still hunched over slightly, his mouth agape, a dazed look in his eyes. Andy, holding his camera out, his finger still right over the button, as though frozen in mid-picture. Patrick and Joe, sitting on top of a dryer, their eyes wide with surprise. Emily flashed them a self-satisfied smirk, stuffing the lacy red thong back in it's basket.
"I told you to give it back, Peter." she laughed, grabbed her basket, and walked down the row to a free machine.
Emily placed the last of her clean laundry in her dresser, shoving the lacy red thong to the back. She crawled into her bed, exhausted. She pondered what she had done; now that she was thinking clearly, she realized pretty stupid. What had Pete thought? What had the others thought? She squeezed her eyes shut tight, and bit her lip, attempting to repress the memory. She opened her eyes again and glanced at her alarm clock; 12:42, it's neon-green numbers boasted. She sighed and crawled out of bed. She slid into her slippers and padded down the hallway until she came to Joe and Patrick's room. The door was open, so she knocked lightly on the door frame.
"Guys? Are you awake?" she called softly.
"Emily?" came Patrick's voice.
"I can't sleep." she replied, stepping into the room. She crossed the darkened space over to Patrick's twin bed at the far corner of the room, and crawled under the covers. He put his arm around her.
"Why not?" Joe's voice joined in. Emily watched as his figure emerged from darkness and crawled into bed next to her, squishing Emily between the two boys.
"Because I'm stupid." she answered finally.
"Don't say that, Emmy." Patrick sighed.
"I am, though. I shouldn't have kissed Pete."
"Em, it's no big deal, it's not like there was any tongue."
Emily shuddered at the thought of any tongue.
"Yeah, he was teasing you and you showed him who's boss. Besides, you kiss us on the cheek all the time." Joe agreed.
"Okay, lips and cheeks are two completely different things." Emily moaned, covering her face with her hands.
"Pete knows you were kidding around, Emily." Joe told her.
"Are you sure?"
There was a pause, and Joe pondered what Pete had told him several weeks ago; "I can't stop thinking about her, Joe. It's like she's what keeps me living and breathing." He then pondered what Pete had told him after Emily had walked away at the Laundromat; "There was no tongue, but, God, I wish there was." And, at that moment, Joe decided to lie.
"Yeah."
Emily sighed with relief, and snuggled into with her friends. They were silent for a long time.
"Promise me something?" Emily spoke finally.
"Anything." Patrick answered.
"Never leave me. Where ever you go, I go."
"We promise, Emily." Patrick whispered, and the three friends fell asleep, Emily cradled in their arms
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