FicWad

The air was silent save two black Nikes that made their way past two posh houses and came up on an equally posh third one. They knew the trail by heart, jumping over the low steel gate and trekking across the ground to a large maple tree in the backyard. With the aid of two tan hands, the black Nikes scaled the tree with familiarity. They jumped from the tree's branches to the second story, grasping onto a window ledge. Satisfied that the soft thud the Nikes made didn't wake anyone, the hands slide open the window and slithered in.

The Nikes rolled in anticipation, being in familiar territory. It wasn't the first time that the Nikes' have made that same trek, sometimes earlier in the day, other times later in the night. The fact was that no matter the time, the boy that was asleep in the room would accept the Nikes without hesitation. The Nike's bounced slightly when they saw the obstacle in front of it. Strewn all over the floor were towers of clothes, oddly stacked books and mini-mountains of music sheets. Rolling once in nervousness, the Nikes lightly but swiftly made its way through the labyrinth. They twisted and turned at impossible angles to avoid hitting the Leaning Tower of Pisa-esque stacks of books. Making it from the window to the edge of the bed without knocking a single tower, the Nikes gave itself a small victory dance.

Turning on the heel, the Nike's lost balance and fell comically on its ass, one of the tan hands flailing and knocking over a stack of books with a loud clatter.

"Whose there?"

"The Ghost of Christmas Past."

"Ricki?"

Turning on a bedside lamp, a wide eyed 13 year old Pete Wentz glanced over the edge of the bed. He smiled dumbly at the girl sitting on her ass in gym shorts and a tank top. He didn't see a smart mouthed, tom girl, even though she thought herself to be one. He saw his best friend of six years sitting on her ass, a slightly embarrassed look marring her usually pretty features. He wasn't surprised that she was there and like always, he was secretly glad she was there in the dead of night to begin with. He knew that whatever was eating at her or if she just wanted company...she'd always turn to him for that. And with that, he drew comfort, strength and love that baffled even him at times.

"What happened?"

12 year Veronica Reyes rolled her dark eyes and held her hand up for assistance. "I was trying to weave my way through the booby trap you call a room." She landed on his bed with a small plop and fixed her gym shorts. "So...whatca doing?"

Pete stared at her and rolled his eyes. "I was finishing my cure for cancer. I think I got it."

"Oh you're funny."

"Well it is," he glanced at the clock. "Two thirty in the morning. It was the best I could do."

She rolled her eyes at him. She stared at him till he nodded and pulled the covers back. She shucked off her shoes and slipped underneath. They got as comfortable as they could on the single bed, shoulders overlapping. She sighed contently when he turned the light off and made sure she was tucked in properly. She started snaking her hand around his stomach and thighs, patting gently.

"If you keep touching me like that you won't live to see 12," he said, stopping the movements with his hand.

She giggled. "I already turned 12, don't you remember the birthday party last week?"

He chuckled and intertwined their fingers. "How could I forget, you had the slumber party at MY house."

"You're the one that wanted one!"

"So?"

Ricki giggled at his dry tone and stared up at the darkness of his room. For as long as she had known Pete, his family was like her own. When Pete and her spent the afternoon in the principles office for pushing each other, it was Pete's mother that offered to take her home. Ricki could still feel the embarrassment of telling the staff at school that her mother or father probably wouldn't be home till late and that she was going to walk home anyways. From that simple car ride, Pete and Ricki became best friends. Neither of them could explain it, it was just a bond that formed quickly and held fast. From that day on, they were inseparable. Ricki was always around Pete's house and though she wasn't sure how to take it, his family had welcomed her with open arms. She referred to his parents as "Momma and Pop" and Hilary forced her to become a girl every now and again. She always found contentment when her and Pete were forced to baby sit Andrew, the little brother she never had. Ricki's heart swelled whenever she thought of the Wentz and the way they sort of adopted her.

"Ricki?"

"Do you think that my parents will come to a game?"

Pete's heart broke to hear the hesitancy try its hardest to mask her hurt. He gave himself the benefit of an inward sigh and squeezed her hand. When he met Ricki on the playground during the 3rd grade, her parents have always been scarce. With her father a top notch pilot for a major airline and her mother one of Illinois most well respected (and most sought after) surgeons, they never were home enough to take notice of her. And for as long as he has known Ricki she has done everything in her power to get their attention. He was there when she dyed her hair a violent magenta in the fifth grade with food coloring (he had no part in this one, picking out the color and rinsing her hair was no part), when she became the youngest varsity pop warner cheerleader, when she became the first girl to ever start on the boys junior high basketball team and when she set lizards on fire and fed them to the stray dogs (that one he was totally part of). Now as they entered the most important four years of their schooling career, she had enrolled in countless clubs, three AP classes and became the first girl in Winnetka's history to be a first string receiver for the varsity football team. He wasn't one to pass judgment but he knew they didn't make any time for her or anything she has done. He didn't see them at one basketball game (he should know, he went to every single one of them), he didn't see them during their 8th grade graduation parent-student dinner and he's never seen them during "Career Day" in elementary. He knew they loved Ricki, but he didn't know if they ever took time to realize that they had a beautiful daughter growing up.

"Pete?"

Pete sighed and squeezed her hand. "I don't know Ricki, really. But if you give my parents a schedule, I'm sure they'll go to some games."

Ricki nodded numbly and let herself feel disappointment. "So...honestly you don't think they'll come?"

Pete shook his head, feeling it grow heavy with sorrow. "No Ricki, I don't think they'll come."

She turned her head towards him. "As my best friend, aren't you suppose to make me feel better and not worse?"

Pete smiled at her through the darkness. "As your best friend aren't I suppose to tell you the truth?"

Ricki sighed and looked back up at the ceiling. "They won't come will they," she asked in a small voice.

He sighed and rubbed his thumb over her hand. "I'm sorry."

She nodded slightly. "Yeah."

The silence hung between them and Pete's heart broke just a little more. He lifted his arm and drew her to him. She snuggled into his warm embrace, her breath coasting over his neck. She knew that even if her parents didn't show up to a game, his parents will. Ricki couldn't recall a promise they ever broke, a holiday they didn't try to include her in. She couldn't imagine her life without the Wentzs and she sure as hell couldn't imagine it without Pete. She sighed once more and finally felt sleep rest in her eyes.

"Do you think Momma and Pop are really gonna come to my games," she whispered.

Pete nodded and rested his head on top of hers. "Of course. It's not every day our little Ricki becomes a high school football player."

She nodded tiredly. "Well I can-"

Ricki felt herself be pushed out of bed and fall hard on the floor. She gasped out obscenities as she tried to make her way out of the blankets that trapped her. She shook away the last shards of sleep as her head poked out of the sheets. She looked around wildly, her black hair tussled, her breathing labored.

"Morning," a voice said calmly.

27 year old Pete Wentz was sitting daintily on the side of the bed. Suspiciously the same side where she had been sleeping mere moments earlier.

"I KNOW you did not just push me off the bed," 26 year old Veronica Reyes threatened as she tried to untangle herself from the deathtrap of her sheets.

"Of course not," Pete said, placing a hand on his chest with mock hurt. "I would never do that!"

Finally free from her restraints, Veronica stood up on shaky legs. She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the innocent blinking Pete was doing. "I know your game Wentz," she threatened the best she could in a sports bra and boxers.

Pete looked at his fingernails, a bored expression written all over his face. "Idle threats." He grinned evilly at her. "It's not my fault you're clumsy and fell outta the bed."

"Oh fuck you," she said as she leapt over the bed and taking down her best friend.

They rolled around, each trying to best each other. Veronica growled as Pete pinned her to the ground, his legs clamping hers shut and one hand pinning her hands together over her head. His fingers dug into her sides, laughing at the howling shrieks she was giving out.

"Say it," he laughed, pausing only to switch hands and attack the other side of her torso.

"Oh my god I'm gonna piss my pants," she panted out. She twisted her body trying to rock him off. Gathering the strength she had (there wasn't much with his fingers scratching into her sensitive side) she twisted enough to throw him off balance. He stumbled to her left and she took this time to break out of the grip of his hands.

She quickly pinned him down, holding his arm over his head and slamming his body down. "Say uncle."

"Fuck you," he wheezed out, trying to get a grasp on the world. He managed to call her a "cheating bitch" before she flipped him over and had his head in a headlock.

"Say it motherfucker," she laughed, her body squirming over his to avoid his hands that were searching for a hold on her. "Say what I like to hear baby."

"Fuck you."

"Wrong answer," she giggled as she tightened her grip on his neck. "Say it."

Pete struggled to get out of her grip. The grip wasn't restricting his breathing but it was damn uncomfortable. Finally coming to terms with the fact that there was no way out of this, Pete let his arms fall.

"Fine, you win."

"Ha!" Ricki yelled. She gave him an extra squeeze and pushed his face into the carpet. She got up quickly and moved two steps when she felt Pete fly up and tackle her into the bed. "Cheater!"

Pete ignored her as he tried desperately to pin her. He had her arms trapped beside her and was trying to push her into the bed. That was becoming too hard as she bucked and turned. With a defeated groan he felt her hand slip from under them and grab into his wrist. Before he had time to react she had somehow managed to slip up and over him, slamming onto him and pushing his face into a pillow.

"Cheaters never prosper," she sang as she held her death grip over his body. She dug her chin into his back, one of the childhood nuisances that she knew he hated. His yell was muffled by the pillow she was mashing his face into. "How ya like me now Wentz?"

She gave his face another shove before rolling off him. She giggled at the way he slowly raised himself up and flopped over.

"What did I ever do to you," he asked miserably, cringing.

"Bitch please," she said. She patted his forehead and chuckled when he slapped her hand away. "Don't get all mad at me. You're the one that got their ass handed to them a girl...TWICE."

Pete rolled his eyes. "I let you win."

Ricki scoffed and looked at her chewed fingernails. "Again...bitch please. Don't play with fire or you'll get burned."

Pete stared at her, his face unreadable. Finally when she opened her mouth to say something he started laughing. "Oh man...you fell hard."

"Yeah I did," she replied, not bothering to stop the grin that played on her lips. "Just why did you push me out of bed anyways?"

Pete shrugged as if pushing someone out of bed was the most natural thing to do. "It was time for you to get up."

Ricki raised one eyebrow at him. "Shaking me didn't work?"

"Well I didn't try it."

Ricki barked out a laugh and got up. "Leave it up to you Pete." She made her way to the Chester drawers that mirrored her bed and got out a change of clothes. "So was there a purpose to this visit or did you just want to get your ass beat down?"

Pete followed her into her bathroom and sat on the toilet as she started the shower. "Well...no," he admitted.

Ricki laughed and made him close his eyes as she stripped to step into the shower. "Well as much as I'd like to believe you, I don't."

Pete chuckled. "Yeah well, I wanted to see what you were doing tonight."

"Working," he heard her sigh inside the shower. "And no, I can not call in sick."

He sighed, making sure to sigh loud enough to be heard over her showering. "But we haven't done a secret show here in FOREVER! You know you can, you just don't want to."

Ricki smiled to herself as she scrubbed at her body. When Pete had told her that him and Joe were starting some Lifetime-like-ish pop punk band, she smiled and said she'd be at every show. Never in her wildest dreams that the band would actually amount to something, much less one of the biggest bands out there today. Being best friends with THE Pete Wentz from Fall Out Boy wasn't always a walk in the park, but Ricki knew that when Pete pleaded for her to go to a show, something was up.

"Actually I can't," she argued, rinsing off her body. "I've used my sick days up going to the UK with you guys." She turned off the water and stuck her hand out from behind the curtain, signaling for a towel. When a wash cloth was placed in her hand, she flicked her wrist and threw it back at him. "Give me my towel yo."

"Come with us tonight," he said simply, enjoying the way he hand kept reaching for the towel that was just out of her way.

"I can't Pete," she replied, finally grabbing onto the towel and retracting her hand. "I spent that week and a half in the UK and now I don't have extra time." She dried off quickly and secured the towel around her before stepping out. "I can't just NOT show up."

He shut his eyes tight when she motioned to her clothes. "I know, I know. But can't you ask for it off and like work extra on Monday?"

"Nope," she said, after realizing that he couldn't see her shrug. She pulled on a pair of sleek black slacks and a form fitting button up white shirt. She ran some mousse and gel through her hair to get it stay at its natural waviness. Ricki took out her toothbrush and toothpaste before speaking again. "I haven't told my boss why I take so much time off anyways."

Pete sighed again and opened his eyes. "Well what do you tell him when you ask for time off?"

"I have a lot of grand mothers that die."

He laughed outright at her cheeky grin. "You know...I don't know why you just don't quit your job and work for me.

"Because it's just that. I'd work for YOU. Get why I wouldn't want that?"

Pete shook his head. "Whatever alright?"

Ricki giggled and pinched his nose. "Look, I'd love to go, I'm sure I could've swindled something if SOMEONE would've told me there was a secret show."

"I told you yesterday!"

Ricki laughed and went back into her room, picking up a pair of Coach shoes and socks. "Yes, that's a really good time to tell me something. Couldn't you have told me, like oh I don't know, when you SCHEDULED the show?"

Pete leaned against her night stand and crossed his arms. "Then it wouldn't have been a SECRET show," his voice holding that "duh" tone to it.

Ricki stood up and put her hands on her hips. "...seriously?"

"Well...yeah."

Ricki straight out laughed and grabbed her bag as she pushed past him. "You constantly amaze me, even after a million years of knowing you."

Pete followed her out to the living room of her modest apartment. Even though everyone seemed to be living with Pete and his parents at one point or another, Ricki had stubbornly but nicely declined and got her own apartment. After they graduated high school, Ricki had saved up enough money from her job at the gas station to get herself a shit hole apartment. She cut ties with her lofty parents and refused any sort of financial help anyone gave her, especially her parents. After a couple years, more dingy apartment and countless fights with Pete, Ricki finally landed her currently apartment.

On the middle class end of Chicago, her apartment was something she took pride in. It was a spacious one bedroom apartment overlooking a nearby man made park. She had decorated (with help of Pete's "I-Never-Really-Lived-On-My-Own-But-If-I-Did-I'd-Decorate-It-Like-This" attitude) her apartment like any person in their twenties would, with miss-matched furniture and hand me down items. She took pride in the green couch and white loveseat. Even though he gave her grief for living on her own, Pete was still insanely proud at the independence she's shown.

"So you SURE you can't come," he persisted as she picked up an apple from a fruit bowl. "Its gonna be insane."

Ricki stuffed the apple into her mouth and mentioned him out with her head. She closed her door, made sure it was locked before taking a bite of the apple. "I'm SURE Pete. Where's the after party? I will definitely make that."

He pushed the down button on the elevator and leaned against the wall. "About that...what were you gonna do after work tonight?"

Ricki's eyes widened and she quickly swallowed the piece of apple. "You want to have it here...again?"

Pete smiled brightly and held his arms in front of him as the elevator doors opened. "After you my best amazing friend."