FicWad

1 MONTH LATER.

William’s POV-

I’m over stimulated.

Pete’s coming home today. Pete’s coming here today. I haven’t seen the kid in three months, not since the parking lot incident.

I haven’t even really talked to him in three months.

We text rarely, and he’s never on AIM.

And phone calls are overrated in the world, latley.

He texted me over a month ago, that he wants US to come on tour with him.

So began the alliance of the Honda Civic Tour.

It’s us, Fall Out Boy, Cobra Starship, which I’m overly exited about, I haven’t seen Gabe in ages, six months or so, +44, and Paul Wall.

I was already packing my bags. We leave in two weeks.

I checked my watch. It’s 2:47. Great, only two hours and fifty three minutes before Pete’s suppose to come home. Which leaves me only about three hours and thirty minutes to clean the house, take a shower, get dressed, dry my hair, brush my hair, fix my hair, and wait.

I paced a bit, before I realized I was just wasting time, so I started picking up everything that lay on the floor, and that was out of place in my house. I was kind of frantic, to say the least.

As soon as I was sure I was done with the house, I pulled my shirt off, as I walked to the bathroom, I threw my shirt in the hamper, and closed the bathroom door behind me, as I stepped out of my boxers, and turned the shower on, waiting for it to heat up.

I looked down.

This lanky body isn’t good enough for Pete. I’m sure.

I never feel hot anymore. I only felt hot dressed as someone else. And on rare occasions, long ago.

My hands traveled down to my hip bones, which stuck out quite a lot, and I just kind of felt them. They were just so out there, I always just kind of felt my hip bones.

Maybe someday Pete can feel my hips?
I shook my head, and turned, stepping into the shower. I need to stop thinking of him like this.
He’s straight. It’s such a lost cause.

I need a girlfriend.

That’s exactly what I need, I thought, as I rubbed my scalp with shampoo.

I mean, Pete has one.

Oh, I didn’t tell you? My bad. I haven’t exactly confronted him about it, but there’s all these rumors, and pictures.

He’s with Ashlee Simpson. Yeah, the SNL lip syncer.

And like I hadn’t already hated her enough. Now, she’s banging the man I love. GREAT.

I thought about all this as I rubbed my entire body with soap, making sure I was cleaner then clean.

I decided I was going to need all this time, I’m a very assiduous person when it comes too my looks and such, especially when it comes to Pete.

Impressing him, if you must.

I soon shut off the shower, and stepped out of the shower, making my way over to the towel rack, and wrapping a towel around my head.

Long hair calls for these semi-feminine measures. I must do what I must do. Besides, I’m not about to get the floor all wet and slippery.

I wrapped my lower half, below the hips, in another white towel, and walked out to look at the clock.

3:40. Shit, only like, two hours till he get here.

I walked into my room, throwing both towels into the hamper, and went digging for pants. I took a pair of black briefs out, and stuffed my long legs through the pant legs, pulling them up to fit just below my hipbones. I grabbed a pair of straight legged jeans and pulled them on over that.

Then, I took a grey v-neck, and put that on over my wet, curling hair.

When I was done, I walked into the bathroom, plugged in the blow-dryer, and started blowing my hair dry. Sometimes this takes a while, it pretty much sucks taking care of this hair, but I like it.

I think.

After it was dry, I ran a brush through it, wincing at every snarl and knot the brush crashed through.
When it was done, I looked at it for a while. Not good enough. Too puffy. I pick up the brush and went through it again, this time, the ride was smooth, and I didn’t feel one pull or tug.

I set the brush down, and looked at my reflection.
Was it good enough now?
For some reason, I couldn’t get myself to like it. It just wasn’t perfect enough. I’m having a bad hair day.
Perfect.
I’m fucking sick of bad hair days. Only girls, and me have bad hair days.

I contemplated. I contemplated the unthinkable for about twenty minutes, until I decided to check the clock.

Maybe it was to stop myself from picking up the scissors.

Only like, an hour and a half left. Suddenly, my sidekick went off. I walked over, and picked it up.

“What’s up?” I asked, without glancing at the caller ID.

“Hey!” I heard a familiar voice say.

“Oh-uh hey!” I said, kind of exited to hear his sweet voice.

“I just got in, I’m going to drop my stuff at my house and be over at your place in about twenty minutes, around 4ish.” he said.

“Oh sure.” I said, nodding.

“Okay, so I’ll see you later?” he asked.

“Most definitely.” I said, smiling.

“Bye buddy!” he said, hanging up.

“I love you.” I muttered, after I was sure he had hung up.

I put the phone down, and sat on the couch, kind of flipping through channels, watching bits and pieces of everything until they went to commercials.

Soon, I became restless, and got up to check to see if my hair was still puffy.

I looked into my reflection.
It just, wasn’t what I wanted to see. I fluffed my hair up with my hand, and looked at it.

Then, I started contemplating the idea again. It was a really nasty idea, thinking back, but I contemplated this, the thought crossed my mind a million times.
Maybe Pete would like it, even if that means I didn’t.

I looked out of the corner of my eyes, into a basket full of bathroom supplies, on a shelf.
Tweezers, hair clips, eyeliner, cover-up, combs and brushes, and a nice, shiny, very appealing at the moment, pair of silver scissors.

My hand slowly began to reach for them, regardless of what my brain was thinking. Maybe I wasn’t thinking, maybe it was just a lot of lust, possessing the mind and body with want. With need. I need Pete’s acceptance. I need those scissors.

My hand rapped itself around the handle of the scissors and brought it slowly towards the top of my head.
I looked up, trying to watch what I was doing, incase the mirror lied to me. I was shaking all over.
I glanced in the mirror, and saw that my whole body was now covered with a cold sweat. I raised my free hand, and wiped my forehead. I opened my mouth, and started to breath heavily, watching my hand raise to my hair.
I tried to steady my hand, and couldn’t. I was shaking to heavy. My fingers opened the handle, and approached the first lock.

Knock Knock Knock

I jolted, and dropped the scissors.

I breathed in, and breathed out, suddenly coming to my senses, and walking out to the living room, and opening the door.

“William!” Pete said, hugging me.

I was a little speechless.

He didn’t know it, but Pete had just saved me from making possibly the worst decision of my life.
Pete had just stopped me, or something in me, something that I had no control over, from cutting all my hair off.

“Hey Pete.” I muttered, burying my head into his shoulder as he hugged me.