FicWad

Author's Note: I should be working on chemistry homework right now, but I love you guys soooo much that I decided to update instead.

As always, this goes out to:
i_heart_cliches - read this chapter and you'll find out if pete grew some balls.
jewsicax - your answer to #1 hit the nail right on the head. -gives you a smiley sticker-
this_girl_was - ack, no! don't die! you need to read what happens!
glindapsawyer - haha. your review made me laugh. a lot. pete and his silly internet girlfriends...
petewentzlover69 - look for a glowing penguin in this chapter. i put it in especially for you.
pyrotechnist - carebears and rainbows, eh? your bribes are working. =P
dflip07 - P$ is a sweetheart. i like writing stories about sweethearts. -hinthint-
ryanrossISsove - yes, i am interested in some "GOOOOOD puppies." XD
SingYourLungsOut - glad to see you're back on ficwad!

They pwn you. No joke.

Chapter Thirty: Runaway

Hush now, don't say a word - it's out in the open, and tell me how can you deal with all this weight? Speak now, you must have a secret kept down, down where you can keep it. I need you to spill your guts.
-Cartel

---
Pete's POV

The short walk to the back of the bus was more nerve-wracking than the performing in front of a stadium full of people. Keep your cool, Pete. Don't mess this up...

Emi was sitting on her bunk, quietly singing to Emerson as he contently sat in her lap. The scene was nothing out of the ordinary, but there was something intimate about it. They were in their own little world.

Feeling out of place, I turned back in the direction I came.

Now you're just looking for excuses...Stop being such a pussy.

My brain turned against itself and my feet had yet again found themselves walking in Emi's direction.

Unaware of how to politely interrupt, I stood in the doorway and coughed. What was supposed to be a quiet throat clearing ended up sounding like I was hacking up a furball.

What can I say? Acting was never my thing.

She stopped singing and turned her head in concern. I mentally punched myself for sounding so ridiculous. Way to be discreet.

"Hey Pete, you okay?"
"Uh, yeah. I'm fine."
"Oh, okay." She let out a slight laugh. "For a second I thought I'd need to use the Heimlich on you." I laughed along with her, hoping that my cheeks weren't as red as I thought they were.

"Do you have a minute?" I asked.
"For you, I have two minutes." She patted the area next to her, signaling me to sit down.

"What's up?"
"I, um, I...I have something I need to get off my chest." Real smooth. It hasn't even been a minute and you're already stuttering.

"What is it?"

I opened my mouth, but the words I planned died in my throat.

"It's lame--Forget I said anything." I got up, but Emi took hold of my hand.
"C'mon, Pete. You can talk to me."
"I... I think I'm allergic to you..." I said, breaking eye contact with her.
"What?" She looked at me with confusion.

The next words spilled out of my mouth faster than my brain could process.

"Whenever you're around, my throat closes up and I can't breathe. My mind goes blank. My heart races. I get nervous. My hands shake. Palms sweat. Knees give out...It's like I can't function."
"I don't understand..."

I sighed and bit my lip.

"You're the only person who makes me feel like this. The only explanation is that I'm allergic... either that, or I'm still in love with you..."

Looking up at me, her eyes said it all--surprise, confusion, doubt.

"We're in Indianapolis!" Andy said, conveniently bursting into the room.

All three of us were at a standstill as the bus lurched forward then came to a stop. You could have heard a pin drop. Or in my case, you could hear my heart plop right out of my chest and onto the floor for everyone to see.

Emi leaned close and pressed her lips against my cheek. "Take some Benadryl and you'll be fine," she whispered.

Without a word, she scooped up her dog and made her way off the bus.

"Shit..." I put my head in my hands.
"What just happened?" Andy asked, clearly confused.
"I fucked everything up."

---
Emi's POV

"Just when I thought things couldn't get more complicated..." I thought out loud after walking a short distance from the bus.

If only Pete had said that he hated me... or that he was gay and secretly married Patrick in Vegas... or that his name was really Kal-el and he was the only survivor of the planet Krypton... even all of the above.

Anything but dropping the L-bomb on me.

"Fuck."

---
Christina's POV

"What are you doing?" I asked.

Instead of greeting me upon entering the bus, Emi grabbed a duffel bag and started throwing her belongings into it.

"I can't do this anymore..." she said, stuffing her glow-in-the-dark penguin into her bag.
"What are you talking about?"
"Tour." She paused to look at me. "I can't stay here."
"You were fine a few hours ago..." I trailed off, wondering what could have caused her to make this decision.

As much as she denied it, we all knew that she loved being on tour. Whenever I'd complain about how cramped the buses are or how hard it is to sleep in the bunks, she'd always be the one saying something along the lines of "Suck it up. Free shows, hot boys, backstage passes. We're living the dream."

"Did something happen on the Fall Out bus?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Well what was it?"

Ignoring my question, she continued to gather her belongings.

"Emi!" I grabbed her wrist to stop her, at least temporarily. She looked at me with lost eyes.

"Slow down and tell me what happened."
"Allergies...He's allergic to me..."
"What?" I tried wrapping my head around her answer.

Sometimes she spoke in codes and metaphors, but this one was just ridiculous.

"You're not making any sense. At least tell me where you're going."

Tyson walked in with a smile, but his expression quickly changed when he saw Emi packing.

"What's going on?" he asked.
"I'm leaving the tour..."
"What? Why?" he asked, grabbing her arm. "There's still a week left."
"I need to sort some things out, and I can't do that while I'm here."
"Is this about last night? I'm sorry that I made you feel used. I--"
"That's only part of it, Tyson."
"Then what's the rest?"
"It's...It's complicated."
"Could we just talk for a minute?" he pleaded.

She sighed and nodded, setting her bags down.

"Christina, could we have some privacy?" Tyson asked, turning toward me.

I didn't need to be asked twice. With a brief nod, I took my cue to leave.

Please convince her to stay...

---
Emi's POV

"What happened between last night and today that made you want to leave?" he asked.
"A lot of things..." I paused to collect my thoughts.

If I told Tyson what had transpired, not only would it be awkward between Pete and I, but it would spread to Pete and Tyson. The last thing I wanted to do was start some kind of inter-band hostility, so I decided to choose my words wisely.

"What 'things'?" he asked. "I swear to God, if one of them touched you--" His fists were clenched, knuckles white.

"No, nothing like that," I said, shaking my head "...Words were exchanged and put some things in perspective."
"Could you be any more vague?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?" I responded in a smart-alecky tone.
"Emi, I'm being serious." I sighed at the comment.
"I know, I know...But it's not something I really want to discuss. Can't we just leave it at that?"
"You're going to leave. The least you could do is give me some kind of explanation."
"I know..."

I was at a loss for words. Looking down at my shoes, I felt his arms wrap around me.

"Is there anything I could say to keep you here?" he quietly asked.
"Probably not."

He let out a deep sigh and kissed my forehead.

"Just give me some time to figure this out."

He nodded, loosening his grip on my waist. His hands lingered on my hips for a moment before dropping to his sides.

"I'll miss you," he said, before gently pressing his lips against my forehead.
"I'll miss you more," I quietly replied.

After pulling away, he stepped aside as I grabbed my bags and made my way off the bus. However, with his kiss still fresh on my skin, I started second guessing myself.

How can I leave without an explanation?
What would happen if I stayed?
Why does Pete still make me feel like this?

Tyson cares about me. I care about Tyson. But there's always been a little piece of me that still clings to the past. It's stupid and highly illogical, but Pete still occupies a place in my heart.

Moving across the country should have been enough to clear the Wentz name from my mind, but I can't help wondering what would have happened if I didn't go to Berkley.

Chicago is so two years ago. Pete Wentz isn't.

I called a taxi to the venue. Figured that I'd stay at a hotel and sort things out from there.

"...It'll take about 15 minutes for someone to get out there."
"Okay. I'll be standing out front."

I snapped my phone shut and made my way to the front of the venue.

"Wait up, Emi!" someone called from behind. It was Travis.
"Christina called you, didn't she?" I said as he caught up with me.
"No. It was actually a certain bassist that you're leaving behind."
"Which one? Tall and skinny or short and emo?" He laughed at my comment.
"If you must know, it was Wentz," he said, helping me with my bags.

"What exactly went down on that bus?"
"Stuff."
"That's all you're gonna give me?"
"It's a long story."
"I have the time."
"But I don't. My taxi will be here soon."
"Em, what's going on?" he asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. Travis seemed genuinely worried as he looked into my eyes.

"Tyson...Pete..." I sighed. "I can't stay on tour with this hanging over me."
"Can't you just pick one?"
"I wish it was that simple...It's been a while, but a part of me has always loved Pete. He's still the only guy who's made me laugh so hard that I cried. The only guy who's taken me on paintballing dates. The only guy who I can compare to John Cusack. The only guy who convinced me into getting a tattoo..."

As I reminisced, I found myself rubbing the inside of my pinky. Looking down at my hand, the O was still as clear as the day I had it inked into my skin.

"...Then There's Ty. I love the way he effortlessly makes me laugh, the way he sings me to sleep, how he glances down at me when he's on stage, the way he looks into my eyes before we kiss..."
"You have your work cut out for you," he said.
"Yeah..." I said, looking up at him. "I need to figure this out before someone gets hurt."

A battered cab pulled up in front of me, dull yellow paint serving as a testament to its former glory. An elderly man with a grandpa-like smile rolled down the window.

"Are you the young lady I'm supposed to pick up?"
"Yep."

He popped the trunk and Travis helped me load my bags into it.

"Take care of yourself, Emi," he said, wrapping me in a bear hug.
"Don't worry, I will," I said as he pulled away.
"I'm really gonna miss having you around on tour, Ikuhara."
"I'm sure you'll survive, McCoy."

Emerson playfully pawed and Travis' shoe, then ran circles around his feet.

"I'll miss you too, buddy," he said, picking up the little ball of fur. Emerson happily barked as Travis scratched his ear.

Sometimes my dog was an attention whore. But since he was adorable, he always got away with it... Reminds me of Pete, now that I think about it.

He handed the terrier to me, then in a gentlemanly fashion, opened the cab door.

"Call me when you get to a hotel, okay?"
"Yes, /mom/," I said, mocking his protective tone. He rolled his eyes as he closed the door behind me.

"Tell everyone goodbye for me?"
He nodded.

"Bye, Emi."
"Adios."

"Are we ready to go, miss?" the driver asked.
"Yeah. Nearest hotel, wherever that is."
---

Yes, I'm fully aware that you all hate me for writing another cliffhanger.

-dodges numerous tomatoes-

But if you kill me, you'll never know what happens next. And I know you want to know what happens next.

RATE, REVIEW or even AIM me @ disast3rous if you're too lazy for the first 2. I'm always up for random conversations, yo!