Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > First Impressions and Famous Last Words

"Table for one?"

by purpleladder 3 reviews

The date...

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama, Romance - Published: 2007-01-21 - Updated: 2007-01-21 - 810 words

0Unrated
I saw him in the window even before I entered the restaurant and as usual I was reduced to a gibbering mess. I contemplated phoning Paula for support but I gave myself a quick talking to, gained some composure and stepped through the door.

I was greeted by a friendly looking Italian man "Table for one?" he asked.

"No, I'm meeting someone" I replied.

"Name?" he asked.

"Erm" it dawned on me I didn't have a clue what Pete's last name was; why would I?

"Pete, him." I pointed to where Pete was sat.

"Ah yes" the man looked over to his table and then gave me a knowing look. "Be gentle he's been here looking worried for half an hour."

'Half an hour!?' I thought, I was only 5 minutes late (carefully planned by Paula "You don't want to look too keen") so why was he so early?

The Italian man walked me over to the table. Pete jumped up from his seat and smiled at me nervously.

"You look... amazing" he said approvingly. I looked him over.

"You're not to bad yourself" I replied. This wasn't a lie. Pete obviously did own clothes other than just jeans and hoodies. He wore black trousers, a black shirt and a purple tie and did indeed look good in it. The smartness of his dress surprised me a little. I didn't think guys his age (especially American guys his age) did the whole tie thing but then again Pete is full of surprises. But I do like a guy who knows how to dress. A thought flashed across my mind 'He can dance, he dresses well, he has good hair, he can choose flowers and he didn't take advantage. He's gay.'

I didn't have time to ponder this further as the menus arrived and I became engrossed in whether to have pizza or pasta. (Yet more advice from Paula echoed in my mind "Don't don't don't have spagetti, taglialelli or garlic".) I decided to play it safe with penne carbonara.

The man came back and took our orders (I'm sure he winked at Pete). The wine flowed and so eventually did the conversation.

"So this intrigues me" I said. "How exactly did you find out where I lived?"

"Well I noticed that girl you smiled at and after you left and I was worried. So I like went over to her and asked her. Plus with all those books I knew you must be like a student or something."

There were still some things that didn't quite fit but I chose to gloss over them. As we talked and laughed I found out so many things about the enigma that was Pete. His second name was Wentz for a start, sexy. He was from Illinois (although that didn't really mean anything to me) and he was in a band called Fall Out Boy (which I did sort of knew already) and they were in London to play some gigs and generally 'build up some hype'. And most importantly he didn't seem like that much of a prick anymore. I told him about me. How I'd just moved to London from a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. How I was studying Biology but was toying with the idea of medicine. But most of all we laughed; he had the knack of lulling me into a false sense of security then hitting me with a crafty one liner that would send me into fits of giggles. Then the topic of the night before came up.

"I am really sorry about that. I don't know..." I began but was cut off by Pete placing a finger to my lips (cue tingles and blushing).

"Ssshhh" he said. "No apologies. It didn't happen ok? We had a dance and then you had to go home, yeah?"

"Yeah" I replied quietly. It was that simple.

"Right" Pete exclaimed after we had finished, eaten way to much ice cream and I'd put up a small fight over paying. "I said we might meet the guys back at the club if you fancy a bit of a dance and stuff. But if you want to do something else or you wanna like go home that's cool."

"No the club sounds good but I've got a lecture at 9 tomorrow." I was in a brilliant mood and a brilliant mood that needed a boogie.

As we walked along the street from Pedro's to the club I shivered and rubbed my arms. It wasn't meant to be one of those girly ruses I was genuinely cold but Pete offered me his jacket (I have no idea where it came from) and slung an arm around my shoulders. My hand found its way to Pete's hip and I smiled. We fitted perfectly; he wasn't too tall or too short but just right.
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