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Author's Note: Woah woah! Reviews for the last chapter hit the double digits. You guys have no idea how happy I am right now.

Warm puppies and infinity scene points go out to each of the following people:
petewentzlover69
kissbetweenstars
this_girl_was
dflip07
pyrotechnist
jewsicax
medicatedlives
i_heart_cliches
ryanrossISsove
KitKathy4Real
glindapsawyer

You're the reason I keep writing.
---

Chapter Twenty-Eight: You're the One

You're the one that's making me crazy. I'm in love but it's only temporary.
-Sugarcult

---
Emi’s POV

"You know what? I think we're going to play some old stuff," Tyson said into the mic.

Screams emitted from the crowd as they strummed the first chords of 'Her Name Rhymes With Mindy.'

The boys were happily surprised at the number of people who knew the lyrics. Their 'Same Girl, New Songs EP' was bigger than they thought. It was apparent by the silly grins that Tyson and Nick were displaying.

As the crowd behind me roared with excitement, I was sandwiched between a really sweaty guy and the barricade.

I'll definitely have bruises tomorrow...

"Em, you okay?" Charlie asked, slight concern on his face.
"I'm fine," I said, shifting my position so that my ribs wouldn't be crushed. "If I can tackle you to the ground, I think I can hold my own in the pit."
"Good point." He let out a chuckle. "But there are certain boys backstage that would fire me if you got hurt...Just tell me if you want to get out."

The guy behind me seemed to pick up on our conversation and let up a little. Breathing became a little easier. For a few seconds anyways.

"...This is for the girl who defines beauty,
with her long black hair I can see
why every time that I see her I go weak in the knees.
Her name is Emi and she wants me...
She wants me...
And I want her."

Tyson glanced at me before they started up the next song. The subtle change in lyrics was enough to make me weak in the knees.

He knew how to press my buttons.
And he knew that I knew he was pressing my buttons.

---

After the show, I'd had enough. I needed to know where Tyson and I stood.

He pulled me into a sweaty hug.
I pulled him into one of the dressing rooms.

"Woah, frisky are we?" He leaned down to kiss me, but I took a few steps back.
"Tyson, that's not why I pulled you aside. We need to talk."
"That's never a good sign..."
"Please be serious."
"Okay, okay," he said, taking a seat on the couch. "What do you want to talk about?"

I didn't bother with subtleties. I wanted answers.

"Do you care about me, Tyson?"
"Of course I do. You know that."
"It's just that...This isn't how it's supposed to be."

He shot me a questioning look, as if to say "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Friends, friends with benefits, lovers. I don't know whether I should kick your ass at Mario Kart, fuck you in the supply closet or plan a future with you."

This. Is. So. Messed. Up.

"Why can't we have it all?"
"You can't have your cake and eat it too..." I said, frustrated.
"Why not?" His icy blue eyes pierced mine, angry, yet sincerely upset.

---
Pete's POV

After the show, all I wanted to do was sleep.

Homesick at Spacecamp.
A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More "Touch Me".
Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying.
XO.

Each one was part of the set we played.
Each one was written about Emi.
Each one served as a reminder that I couldn't have her.

Walking back to the bus, I heard what sounded like a glass being smashed against the pavement. Probably just Charlie letting off some steam.

It seemed normal enough, but I decided to check it out nonetheless.

Rounding the corner, I saw a figure sitting on the ground, leaning against the tire of a bus. Broken glass laid at her feet. Ribbons of smoke floated above her head.

Emi.

As I approached, I noticed an old notebook in her lap. Pages tattered. Words crossed out. Emerson climbed from her lap and into her hoody pocket.

"Hey." I quietly sat across from her.
"Oh, hey Pete," she said, smiling weakly. She stopped writing and looked up from her notebook.
"Why aren't you at the party on the Gym Class bus?"
"I could ask you the same question..."
"Touché."

She quickly scribbled something into her notebook, then sighed.

"Mind if I ask what you're writing?" I asked, taking a seat next to her.
"Answers...At least I hope they're answers."
"I'm not following..."
"I wrote down some questions for myself. They're questions that I can't honestly answer under normal circumstances. Stuff about relationships, philosophies, what I want vs. what I need..."

There was something despondent in her voice. She put out her cigarette and continued.

"But I've been told that I'm brutally honest when loaded with alcohol...I put two and two together and came up with this plan," she said, raising her notebook. "Write down questions while sober. Have a few beers, just enough to get the truth serum effect, but not so much that my motor skills go to hell. Then I write brilliant, almost illegible answers to my questions."
"Is it working?"
"Seems to..." She picked up her pen again. "I'm almost done." As she reached the end of the line, her pen lazily ran off the page. She had trouble keeping her eyes open.
"C'mon. Let me get you to the Rejects' bus."
"No." She shook her head then kicked around a few shards of glass. "The reason I'm thinking about all of this is because Tyson and I got into a fight," she said, eyes glassed over.
"Oh."

She looked down as Emerson crawled into her lap. The tiny dog pawed at her hand as a single tear fell from Emi's eye. She quickly wiped it away, and averted her gaze to the pavement.

I hated seeing her like this.

"You can crash on our bus," I offered. "We have an extra bunk."
"Sure the guys won't mind?" she asked, weakly. Emerson scampered off her lap.
"I'm sure."

I helped her up and put her arm over my shoulder.

"I'm going to regret drinking in the morning, aren't I?"
"Probably."

She groaned as we got onto the bus. I led her to the back and she gratefully collapsed onto a bunk after setting the notebook aside. Emerson quickly followed, using a duffel bag as a ramp onto the bed. He circled the area by Emi’s head, then rested next to the back of her neck.

"Thank you, Pete," she quietly said.

I took a seat on the edge of the bunk and watched her--hair strewn across the pillow, chest slowly rising and falling-- then contemplated whether or not I should kiss her.

On the good side, she wouldn't remember it in the morning. No need for explanations. No awkwardness between us.

On the bad side, she wouldn't remember it in the morning. She'd go back to Tyson while I'd be left thinking about how her lips felt against mine.

Moonlight danced across her face as she sleepily smiled. Emerson looked up at me with curious eyes as I carefully brushed her bangs out of her face. My hand lingered against her cheek before I stood up.
"Goodnight, Emi."

"Wait," she said, barely audible. "Could you stay with me tonight?"

Is this a good idea?

"Please?" she added, before I could formulate an answer.

I slid off my Nikes and she made space for me on the bunk. As I crawled in next to her I couldn't resist slipping my arms around her waist-- she still fit perfectly against my frame.

"I've missed this..." I softly stroked her hair as her breathing evened out.
"I've missed you..." she mumbled into my neck before falling asleep.

---
Emi's POV

Tell me what you thought about when you were gone and so alone. The worst is over. You can have the best of me...

I groaned as Kenny's voice reached my ears. Sunlight streamed through the window, burning my eyes.

"Shiiiit."

I fished around my pocket and pulled out the source of the music. With a quiet yawn, I flipped it open.

"Hello?" I asked, sleep still apparent in my voice.
"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!" Christina yelled.
"Jesus, not so loud." I cringed at the volume of her voice. My head was already pounding.
"Don't 'not so loud' me!" she said, still angry. She sighed in frustration before continuing. "We've been worried sick about you, Tyson especially...Didn't you get any of my messages? I left a billion of them."
"No..." I said, rubbing my forehead.
"Where were you last night?"
"I crashed on Fall Out Boy's bus..."
"Well you could have told someone."
"I'm sorry...I wasn't thinking straight. After the fight with Ty, I drank a little..."
"Em," she said in a disappointed tone.
"I know, I know. The hangover's punishment enough...I don't need you yelling at me."
"...Since we're already on the road, I guess I'll see you at the next stop."
"Yeah...tell Ty that I'm okay. I just needed some alone time."
"Okay. Take care of your hangover."
"I'll try to sleep it off."
"Bye."
"Bye, Christina."

Before putting my phone away, I noticed that Christina wasn't kidding about the messages.

27 new text message(s). 31 new voicemail(s)

Too tired to go through them all, I flipped my phone shut and placed it back in my pocket. I turned to my side it felt like an elephant had sat on my ribs then kicked the hell out of my thighs.

This is the price I pay for staying on the barricade...but it was definitely worth it.

Reaching down to see which parts of my stomach weren't bruised, I bumped into someone else's hand.

Pete's.

I tried to turn and face him, but his arms instantly tightened around my waist.

"Pete, you awake?" I asked.

He quietly moaned in response, then buried his face into the back of my neck.

"I'll take that as a no..."

To keep him from pressing against my bruises, I found myself cuddled closer to his chest. It brought me back to the days when love was simple and life was easy. Just being in his arms made everything feel okay again.

Soon enough, I found myself drifting off to sleep. His steady breathing acted as a lullaby.

---

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