FicWad

Patrick wasn't entirely sure that he had awoken, the garage had filled with darkness as the sun descended for the evening. He scrunched his face and reached for his head, rolling over to quickly empty the contents of his stomach onto the garage floor. He ran his fingers down his shirt in hopes to caress his aching stomach, but his digits snagged on something attached to the front of him. He looked down and un-fastened the safety pin that held a crumpled piece of paper to his hoodie.

You are damn lucky that Joe let
me borrow his car tonight.
This shit better be clean by
the time I get home, or how you
feel now won't even compare to
how you'll feel tomorrow.

************************************

Patrick reached into his messenger bag in the seat next to him and pulled out his lunch. He began to set it on the table before him, but found a small bundle of brown wrapping occupying the space for his sandwich.

"I hope you like black, it's the only color casing I had that wasn't scratched."

He slipped the bundle open and withdrew his DS, looking as though it had never been broken at all. He flipped the gaming system on, his face lighting in amazement as the screen showed no signs of the demolition it had endured.

"Shit, thanks."

"Sure, no problem."

Patrick began fiddling with the controls of his game, finding his way to the game he was playing before the system shattered. He looked up again, to thank her for not losing his high scores, just as she had promised, and found himself watching her walk away.

"Hey! Hey!" She turned to face him. "Do you want to sit down? For lunch, I mean?"

"Yeah, alright. Thanks."

She pulled out the chair across from Patrick and slid into it with ease. She criss-crossed her arms in front of her and let out a deep sigh, staring at the new kid's wrist. He noticed, and quickly brought his hands below the table, shutting off his DS and placing it gingerly in the front pocket of his bag. She noticed that he noticed her eyes move upon his wrist, and instantly felt guilty for make him uncomfortable.

"So, chem club?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. It's the only club that can be successfully infiltrated at this point in the year. Plus, and don't tell anyone, but, I like chemistry. The only thing in school I've ever been good at." He did his best to make his voice sound airy and fresh, hoping that their awkward silence wouldn't dampen the rest of the lunch period.

"You can't be serious? You actually like chemistry?"

"Yeah, I mean, well, yeah. I know it sounds stupid, but I like the idea of every little thing looking for it's perfect match. The whole world filled with free radicals just floating around until they find the one thing that makes them complete." Patrick blushed, fully aware of the tangent that he just expelled onto. He looked up into her face, expecting to see a look of total disintrest and uneasiness. Instead he saw eyes gaze upon him, looking sincerly engaged in the conversation he had started. "Lame, I know."

"Well, not really. I mean, I like to fix things. I'm a total hands on kind of kid."

"Really, most girl don't like to get their hands dirty."

"Yeah, well, I guess. I don't know, I guess I just kind of like the idea that no matter how damaged something is, no matter how hard someone broke it, it can be fixed, salvaged, made to look and work like new again." She smiled, hopefully lessening the tension now floating around him, figuring if she spoke with the same romantism he did, he wouldn't feel so uncomfortable. "Lame, I know," she added.

Patrick smiled, suddenly realizing that his stomach filled with the feeling that neither of them had been talking about science. They conversed for a while, swapping stories consisting of little importance, mostly how classes were going. Patrick shifted in his plastic chair, hoping that he would soon find the courage to ask her the one question that had been looming in his mind since the day before. He opened his mouth to speak, but felt the courage leave him once again, and contorted his mouth to show a fake yawn. The bell rang above them, and they gathered their belongings together, making their way to the trash can at the far end of the cafeteria. They smiled and said their good-byes, agreeing to join one another again for lunch the next day. Patrick turned around and made his way for his locker, when he suddenly stopped in his tracks. He turned and began to jog in the direction she had headed, frantically searching for the plain girl. He found her, heading up the staircase at the other end of the hallway and sprinted towards her, knocking down a group of cheerleaders on his way. He would have normally stopped to apologize, but couldn't tear his eyes away from the girl walking away from him.

"Hey! Hey! Mrs. Fix-it!" He stopped to rest his hand on the arm rail, bending over to catch his breath. She looked down over him with pondering eyes and a happy smirk forming on her lips. "I forgot," he took a breath, "I don't," he took another, "know," one more, "your name."

She let out a belly rolling laugh, amused by the tactics this boy had just gone through in hope of learning her name. She smiled down on him, and spoke through gentle giggles. "Mikayla."

Patrick watched her turn and head back up the stairs, swaying her head beneath her shoulder blades as though hoping she could free the remaining amusement from her face. His eyes followed her as she rounded the corner of the staircase and continued to the landing at the top, directly above him. He stood there for a moment, being watched by herds of students staring at his pathetic display of humanity.

"But you can call me Mik."

He smiled as he tore his head upwards to see her face upside-down and peering into his eyes, a smile illuminating her face. He watched as she disappeared and turned to gather himself together, making his way down the hallway. His head filled with happiness of the prospect of a new friend, he kept his eyes down walking merrily towards his classroom. He stopped suddenly when he came upon the group of girls he had carelessly knocked down, and faced them to deliver his over due apology. He opened his mouth to speak, but froze in fear at the sight of his cousin pulling one of the cheerleaders to her feet.

"What's your problem?" She snapped at him, causing his cousin to take notice of his presence. Patrick didn't say anything, just looked at his cousin in fear.

"So, Patty-Watty, your the shit head that knocked down Ashlyn, huh?" Patrick retreated backwards, fumbling into the lockers behind him. The presence of metal behind him forced him to stand erect facing down his cousin, and silently thanking god that the hallway still contained enough people to prevent his cousin from tap dancing on his face. He watched Pete become uneasy at the stares upon him, and let out the breath he had been holding as Ashlyn grabbed ahold of his cousin's arm to pull him away. Patrick stood still as the bell rang above him again, and the hallway emptied of students. He closed his eyes and wished he didn't have to go back to his aunt and uncle's house, and to Pete's awaiting anger.