Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Chicago Is So Two Years Ago
Chapter 1: Wear It Like A Bruise Or Black Eye
2 reviewsOK, in this one Arctic (main character) goes on a roadtrip w/ her friends Pete, Patrick, Andy, and Joe, but the story doesn't just jump to it.
0Unrated
"Pete, please. I need to get out of this house."
"Arctic, why are you whispering?" he whispered back.
"Because my parents have grounded me from using the house phone, which I won't use anyway since they bugged it, and I'm using my cell which is also banned."
"Arctic, you're eighteen. You can take the cell that YOU paid for and book it out of there," he reminded her.
"Uh, Pete? You're right. Wow, I'm stupid," she sighed. "Well, if I'm gonna "rebel", then can I stay at your place?"
"Well, SURE, ARCTIC! We'll stay up all night and gossip and watch movies and talk about boys!" he squealed. Arctic chuckled.
"Thanks, Pete. That's why I love you."
"Aww, I wuv you too! I haveta clean the apartment if I'm to be hosting you, ok? So come over whenever! Bye-bye!" he said and hung up. Arctic got off of her bed and dropped to the floor to slide her large pink Nike duffel out from under it. She propped it open on the bed and looked around her room. The fake wood paneled walls that had become familiar to her took a whole other shape when she thought of leaving. Well, first clothes. Arctic opened her armoire and dug through the racks until she came up with something suitable for any weather or occasion and folded them neatly and set them in the bag. Then the most important things, her sketchbook and CDs. She placed the 102 CD case on top of a pile of clothes, and tucked her sketchbook in the side, along with a small pencil box full of charcoal and blending stumps.
Her cell phone rang. She dove for it to answer before her parents found out that she had it and was using it illegally by their rules. Then again, what did she care? She was out of there!
"Arctic, Pete just told me that you're coming to live with us. Congrats." It was Patrick. "Now we'll have clean dishes." Arctic laughed out loud.
"Oh, I see how it is. That's all I'm good for, huh?" When she told Pete that she would be living with them, she silently chastised herself. Their apartment was disgusting, and whenever she was over, she had a sudden OCD attack and started vacuuming or washing their dishes. Not that her parents' house was any better.
"Well, dishes is your field of expertise," he joked. Arctic's smile got wider as she thought about what living with Pete and Patrick meant. Hours of entertainment.
"Ok, well I gotta go and finish packing. Ok, bye! I really can't wait, Trick!" she hung up and slid the phone in her pocket and finished packing. She threw in some black suspenders with white hearts on them and a pair of pink flats with black zebra stripes and zipped the duffel closed with some difficulty, as it was full. So full, that Arctic thought that the zipper was going to rip apart. She slung it over her shoulder and grabbed her black trench coat and car keys.
"Where are you going? You're grounded, remember?" her father barked at her when she hopped downstairs and into the kitchen.
"No. I'm leaving. I'll be back for the rest of my stuff later." Her voice was failing. She wasn't sure if she was going to go through with this, she was scared of him. Well, if he hits her again, she'll just hit him back. There's nothing he can do. 'I'm eighteen, I have the legal rights to leave,' she reminded herself repeatedly, but her jaw refused to unclench. Her father's face instantly contorted into rage and he shot off his chair towards her. Arctic screamed and shut her eyes, thrusting her fist forward and it rammed into his mouth. He stumbled backwards and tripped over a chair, giving her time to flee.
Arctic dashed out to her black Jeep wrangler parked in the road and threw herself into the driver's seat, and the duffel into the passenger's side. She shifted to first and then squealed out of there, leaving angry black marks in the road.
Pete buzzed her up and when he saw her with her hat pulled low over her face, he put his arms around her shoulders protectively and led her to a chair in the kitchen. He filled a mug with hot water he had already prepared for her and put it on the table in front of her, tore open an Earl Gray teabag and dunked it in the cup.
"Arctic, why are you hiding your face?" he asked her slowly. She shook her head, keeping her face directed to her lap and her hand shielding his sight. "ARCTIC!" Her shoulders heaved with a sigh and he reached across the table to gently pull her arm away and tilt her chin up. "Who. Did. This," he said dangerously through gritted teeth.
"-Pete, don't be mad-"
"WHO DID THIS?"
"MY FATHER!" Pete dropped his hand from her face and his enraged face dropped as well.
"Oh, Arctic." His tone changed. He couldn't believe that someone would give their own daughter, a beautiful person, such an ugly black eye. "Why?"
"I don't know, Pete. Why does he punish me? I don't even know what I did wrong." Her voice was very soft, as though she was afraid that her father could hear her, and would break the door down to hit her again. "He came after me when I told him that I was leaving, a-and I...punched him." Pete's eyes widened.
"You did the right thing. What happened?"
"Well, he came after me, and I closed my eyes and punched my fist out so fast that he ran into it and it knocked him over his chair. Then I got out of there." Pete just sat there with his chin in his hands, seemingly reading her soul with his eyes. He pushed his chair back and stood up.
"Would you like to rest before Patrick comes home from work?" he asked. She nodded and followed him into her new room. "I'll get your bag." He came back with it to find that she had collapsed on top of the bedspread, fully dressed, and was fast asleep. He slipped her shoes off and pulled her under the covers.
"Arctic, why are you whispering?" he whispered back.
"Because my parents have grounded me from using the house phone, which I won't use anyway since they bugged it, and I'm using my cell which is also banned."
"Arctic, you're eighteen. You can take the cell that YOU paid for and book it out of there," he reminded her.
"Uh, Pete? You're right. Wow, I'm stupid," she sighed. "Well, if I'm gonna "rebel", then can I stay at your place?"
"Well, SURE, ARCTIC! We'll stay up all night and gossip and watch movies and talk about boys!" he squealed. Arctic chuckled.
"Thanks, Pete. That's why I love you."
"Aww, I wuv you too! I haveta clean the apartment if I'm to be hosting you, ok? So come over whenever! Bye-bye!" he said and hung up. Arctic got off of her bed and dropped to the floor to slide her large pink Nike duffel out from under it. She propped it open on the bed and looked around her room. The fake wood paneled walls that had become familiar to her took a whole other shape when she thought of leaving. Well, first clothes. Arctic opened her armoire and dug through the racks until she came up with something suitable for any weather or occasion and folded them neatly and set them in the bag. Then the most important things, her sketchbook and CDs. She placed the 102 CD case on top of a pile of clothes, and tucked her sketchbook in the side, along with a small pencil box full of charcoal and blending stumps.
Her cell phone rang. She dove for it to answer before her parents found out that she had it and was using it illegally by their rules. Then again, what did she care? She was out of there!
"Arctic, Pete just told me that you're coming to live with us. Congrats." It was Patrick. "Now we'll have clean dishes." Arctic laughed out loud.
"Oh, I see how it is. That's all I'm good for, huh?" When she told Pete that she would be living with them, she silently chastised herself. Their apartment was disgusting, and whenever she was over, she had a sudden OCD attack and started vacuuming or washing their dishes. Not that her parents' house was any better.
"Well, dishes is your field of expertise," he joked. Arctic's smile got wider as she thought about what living with Pete and Patrick meant. Hours of entertainment.
"Ok, well I gotta go and finish packing. Ok, bye! I really can't wait, Trick!" she hung up and slid the phone in her pocket and finished packing. She threw in some black suspenders with white hearts on them and a pair of pink flats with black zebra stripes and zipped the duffel closed with some difficulty, as it was full. So full, that Arctic thought that the zipper was going to rip apart. She slung it over her shoulder and grabbed her black trench coat and car keys.
"Where are you going? You're grounded, remember?" her father barked at her when she hopped downstairs and into the kitchen.
"No. I'm leaving. I'll be back for the rest of my stuff later." Her voice was failing. She wasn't sure if she was going to go through with this, she was scared of him. Well, if he hits her again, she'll just hit him back. There's nothing he can do. 'I'm eighteen, I have the legal rights to leave,' she reminded herself repeatedly, but her jaw refused to unclench. Her father's face instantly contorted into rage and he shot off his chair towards her. Arctic screamed and shut her eyes, thrusting her fist forward and it rammed into his mouth. He stumbled backwards and tripped over a chair, giving her time to flee.
Arctic dashed out to her black Jeep wrangler parked in the road and threw herself into the driver's seat, and the duffel into the passenger's side. She shifted to first and then squealed out of there, leaving angry black marks in the road.
Pete buzzed her up and when he saw her with her hat pulled low over her face, he put his arms around her shoulders protectively and led her to a chair in the kitchen. He filled a mug with hot water he had already prepared for her and put it on the table in front of her, tore open an Earl Gray teabag and dunked it in the cup.
"Arctic, why are you hiding your face?" he asked her slowly. She shook her head, keeping her face directed to her lap and her hand shielding his sight. "ARCTIC!" Her shoulders heaved with a sigh and he reached across the table to gently pull her arm away and tilt her chin up. "Who. Did. This," he said dangerously through gritted teeth.
"-Pete, don't be mad-"
"WHO DID THIS?"
"MY FATHER!" Pete dropped his hand from her face and his enraged face dropped as well.
"Oh, Arctic." His tone changed. He couldn't believe that someone would give their own daughter, a beautiful person, such an ugly black eye. "Why?"
"I don't know, Pete. Why does he punish me? I don't even know what I did wrong." Her voice was very soft, as though she was afraid that her father could hear her, and would break the door down to hit her again. "He came after me when I told him that I was leaving, a-and I...punched him." Pete's eyes widened.
"You did the right thing. What happened?"
"Well, he came after me, and I closed my eyes and punched my fist out so fast that he ran into it and it knocked him over his chair. Then I got out of there." Pete just sat there with his chin in his hands, seemingly reading her soul with his eyes. He pushed his chair back and stood up.
"Would you like to rest before Patrick comes home from work?" he asked. She nodded and followed him into her new room. "I'll get your bag." He came back with it to find that she had collapsed on top of the bedspread, fully dressed, and was fast asleep. He slipped her shoes off and pulled her under the covers.
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