Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Different Names for the Same Thing

Chapter 11

by howshesews 1 review

no summary, duh.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: R - Genres: Humor, Romance - Published: 2006-09-24 - Updated: 2006-09-24 - 1570 words

I don't know that I've ever been as frustrated as I am right now. Is it so much to ask for a person to be one hundred percent straightforward with you? Really? Am I that out of line for wanting a little clue as to what's going on inside his head every once and awhile?

I want to know why he stares and me and then just smiles, or opts for eating sad lonely meals with me instead of his best friends. Does he feel sorry for me? Is he just seeing what kind of games he can play with my head? Alright, I know the answer to my last question is a definite NO, but who can blame me for asking? Today opened my eyes up to not a lot of things like I had previously wished for. No it opened up these big brown eyes to one thing. And that one thing is, as far as Patrick is concerned, my eyes will always be closed. It's mostly disappointing and kind of puts all my work towards this incredible friendship to shame.

I've thought it once, and now I'll think it again. They're thoughts I can't shake, because I've never in my life wanted someone to know how I feel or wanted to know how another person feel so badly. WHAT THE HELL? He's just some short dude that's lucky I didn't make fun of him upon meeting him. Right?

Oh, my God. I'm so wrong.

Today, I ate lunch with Patrick Stump. This is the story, and once you've read it, you'll understand why I'm all twitchy and upset. I'm not just crazy. I swear.

I woke up this morning at around 10, which was unreasonably early, considering I had talked to Patrick way too late the night before, but nonetheless, I was up and showering at ten this morning. I didn't have my suitcase on this (Fall Out Boy's) bus, so I had to wander over to the road crew busses to see where they had thrown it, and I was sure they had thrown it because I was staying with Fall Out Boy.

I found it relatively quickly, though, and decided it would be fun to get ready there and actually do my best to look nice. I found a green sundress I had gotten from the Gap awhile back, and decided that with a denim jacket, it would be weather appropriate. After letting my hair dry, and then straightening it, putting on the same amount of make-up as always, and buckling my Mary Jane's, I decided I was ready to go, and none too soon, because by the time I was finished, my clock was reading 11:52. I was very proud of my timing. I headed back over to the Fall Out Boy bus, and ran right into my lunch date. He sort of looked at me without saying anything, which had me dying to change clothes.

Why...WHY WOULD HE DO THAT? I've tried my best to stay calm through out this whole entire pre-lunch adventure, but that's the spot where it started getting stupid, and that's the spot where I can't be calm anymore. I just smiled.


"You look nice. That's it." He kind of blushed and nodded in the direction of our transportation.

"You're driving?"

"Yes. Is that okay?"

"It's fine. Where'd you get a car?"

"My mom. When I was younger than I am now." I laughed... He knew what I meant but after some thought, I decided I didn't care where he got the car. My conclusion was, if he had it, and we weren't being driven by someone else, he was trying to make the semi-special. I smiled to myself. He noticed.

"What are you smiling about?"

"This. I'm excited. I like getting dressed up for things, and I'm just excited. Is it not alright to smile?"

"It's fine when you smile. I'm probably best when you're smiling." Mother fucker. Why would he say that?

"Okay." I was probably blushing furiously, but I tried to let it go. "Where are we eating?"

"A little Italian restaurant. It's not a big deal, but it's our lunch. This I where I decided our lunch should be." He kept driving, eyes on the road, never on me. Nothing too strange had happened at this point, but I could tell something was up. He pulled into the parking lot, and parked close to the door. I moved to get out, but he stopped me, and being the gentlemen I've really never seen him be, he came around and opened my door for me.

"Well, thank you. That was nice of you."

"Are you surprised?"

"You know it." He laughed, and we walked inside. Behind the wooden double doors was the most adorable little restaurant I had ever seen. He knew what he was doing when he picked this place. He had a plan. It was either, let me down easy, or make me the happiest girl ever. I got to feeling a little sick when I thought of this.

"Shit." Woops. That was supposed to stay behind my lips. Not in front of them.


"Oh, nothing. My ankle is being weird. Sorry."

"Oh. Okay. What'd it do?"

"It's nothing. I promise." I pursed my lips together and turned around to act like I was paying attention to the décor or something else I wasn't really paying attention to. I think he was getting slightly annoyed by how weird I was being, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't shake all of the scary things I was thinking about. Right then, Pete text me.

From Peter 12:14 p.m.:

Calm down..:)

From C.J. 12:17 p.m.:

I am calm, fucker. Put yourself in my shoes.

From Peter 12:21 p.m.:

Shut up. I know your freaking out. I'm out. Enjoy lunch date...:)

What was he so smiley about?

When I looked up from my phone, I noticed Patrick was following a waiter to our seat; I quickly followed to catch up with them, and noticed we were sitting at the last table in the very back of the restaurant.

"I wanted everyone to leave us alone."

"I had guessed." I looked around me and noticed the lack of patrons, and decided this place wasn't normally opened during lunch.

"What did you have to do to make this happen?" He just sort of looked at me and smiled.

"It doesn't matter. It's happening. That's all you need to know." I just nodded and looked at my menu. Nothing looked good, due to that sick feeling in my stomach, which was really just curiosity. But could anyone really blame me for being concerned. Patrick had brought me here, and he had a point to make. All evidence pointed to it, it just wouldn't point to the point he had to make, leaving me a nervous wreck.

"I obviously brought you here for a reason." Oh, God.

"Yeah, I had kind of figured." He looked down and started folding and unfolding his napkin. Shit.

"You're scared. Of this. You're scared of what's been happening bet-"
Right as the waiter walked up. Thanks a lot, dousche bag.

"What can I get you to drink?" He looked at me.

"Iced tea, please." Patrick looked at the waiter.

"Just water, please." He quickly scribbled it down like he never would have remembered it had he not, and walked away. Actually waddled. He was quite large.

"Anyway, we're both scared. Which makes it impossible. Do you understand? I've been in a lot of relationships where we started out as best friends and it got stupid quick. I don't want to play that card with you. You're different. I can't lose what we have. Essentially, what I'm trying to say, is if you're working towards a relationship entailing more than friendship, don't. It can't happen." I think he wanted to say something else, but after looking at my face, he stopped.

"What are you thinking?" He looked worried.

"What do you think I'm thinking? I'm thinking I'm not hungry anymore. I'm thinking I'm going to call Pete and have him come get me. There are feelings in people that are scary, but they shouldn't be tiptoed around. I'm mad at you for trying. I hope, with all of my heart, that you enjoy your lunch alone." And with that, I put my bag over my shoulder, and walked out. I quickly dialed Pete's number. I was crying. I never cry.

"Hello? How's lunch?"

"Will you come get me? Please?" I turned around to see that Patrick had come outside after me.

"What? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Pete, obviously, but I don't want to talk about it. Just come get me. Please."

"I'll be right there."

"Thank you." I hung up the phone.

"C.J., please don-"

"Why'd you call me that?"

"What? Why'd I call you what?" He didn't realize he'd called me the name he's refused to call me for the past month and a half.

"My name. Caroline is what you've called me, and you just called me C.J." He looked at his shoes.

"I don't know." That's all he said, and he walked away.

"Shit." Pete arrived, brought me back to the bus, and now I'm here. Typing this to you. Don't feel sorry for me. We'll work it out, we always do. This will be okay. Right?
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