Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Exasperation In A Parking Lot

Why its better to think before you speak

by duckapple 5 reviews

Don't die of shock. Its just an update.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Published: 2007-01-19 - Updated: 2007-01-19 - 598 words


Leah followed Pete closely as they neared a dingy looking white maxi van with its back doors swung open. "Home sweet home," Pete boasted gesturing toward the vehicle.

Leah smiled, "Nice. Does the heater work? I'm fucking freezing my balls off." Pete cocked an eyebrow at her, "Figuratively speaking of course."

He nodded, "Of course."

"Whose your lady friend Wentz?" The voice came from behind one of the extended doors, seconds later the body it belonged to appeared.

"Shut it Trohman. This is Leah." Pete said to the tall boy with curly hair, "We're gonna give her a ride home."

Trohman stuck forth a hand in Leah's direction, "Nice to meet you ma'am."

"Same to you sir." She said suppressing a giggle as she accepted his hand to shake before watching him continue to load the van. Another boy, about her height with glasses and a hat, appeared from around the side of the van, a cell phone held close to his ear.

Noticing her fascination with his friend Pete leaned in close her ear, "That's Patrick. He sings for Fail Oats Bay."

A blush crept up Leah's cheeks, she hadn't realized her staring. "You can let that die any time now, else wise we may not be friends much longer Peter f-ing Wentz"

Wentz winced, "Touché."

A third boy appeared to the left of where Leah stood leaning against the door of the van as she watched Pete and Joe load the remainder of the equipment. "Hi." The voice almost startled her, but it was shy to achieve that goal.

"Hi." She replied simply, taking a look at him she noted his height was almost equal to her own have at least one inch on her stature. His hair was hidden under a cap, that he tugged on self-consciously, and his green eyes were kept behind thick framed glasses.

"I'm Patrick," His hand thrust forward in her direction. "A fan?"

"Leah, but I wouldn't really say that," She smiled accepting his hand, " Just a newly acquired acquaintance of your friend F-ing Wentz over there." This commented earned her look and a muffled snort from the f-ing Wentz and a giggle from the one known only as Trohman.

He nodded slowly, tugging his hat again. "So, what brings you to our humble abode?"

One eyebrow shifted on her face to an arch over her left eye, "Abode?" She half snorted, cold air burning her nose, "Seriously though, a way home."

He nodded again, this time his eyes landing on her face " I see."

Leah felt her cheeks turn pink when his eyes met hers, but she shook it off as the cold making it's mark on her. Brice. Remember him, the boy you've been with since eighth grade. The inconsiderate asshole who'd rather smoke pot than remember to pick up his girlfriend. Yeah him. Asshole or not. He loves you. We're jumping to conclusions. It was only a glance. And a blush. One innocent glance. You're a horrific liar.

"That should do it kids," An unfamiliar voice, at least less familiar than those whom she knew who they belonged to, brought her out of the argument she was having with her conscience and back to earth. The boy to which the unfamiliar voice belonged nodded in her direction, "And this would be?"

"Erm...Leah," She managed to push her name past her lips after clearing her throat.

This boy too wore glasses, but his stance was much more open than that of Patrick. She offered him a hand to shake, which he took. "They call me Andy."

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