FicWad

I never did get to see them tour that summer. Sure, they only really played different venues here and there, but I wished I could have been there. Instead, I had to go to the 'student exchange camp', and then spend the rest of my summer break back in Scotland with my family. Great. When in Chicago I could have sun, it decides to rain in Scotland. Well, doesn't decide. It just permanently rains. Don't get me wrong, I love my family. But in Chicago, I felt like I was at home.
However, I did get to return to Chicago for another year - something both Patrick and myself had been terrified I wouldn't get to do. He was ecstatic when I called him.
"Really? Oh, my God! That's so great!" He yelled down the phone. The tone of his voice made me grin.
"I know. It's awesome. So how's the tour going?"
I could tell on the other line that Patrick's smile had faded.
"It's... lonely." He admitted. "I mean, Joe has a girlfriend, and Pete has Christa. But me... I just want my best friend."
"How long have you got left?"
"Two weeks."
"Well, you'll get to see me in two weeks, then." I told him.
"I know, and that's great. It just sucks you're not here."
"Don't make me feel worse, Patrick. I feel so awful."
"Nah, it's not your fault. I guess I shouldn't get hung up on it. When's your flight? I'll come meet you."
"Patrick... you get lost in airports."
"So do you." He laughed. I shook my head and proceeded to tell him where and when I would be returning.
"Awesome. So I'll see you on - Wednesday." He grinned.

And Wednesday couldn't come quick enough. I couldn't sleep the night before my flight - I was just so excited about seeing him again. I hadn't seen him for 7 whole weeks, and it was unbearable. I know, I know, I probably sound really creepy and possessive, but he's my best friend...
One long plane ride later, I spotted Patrick as I walked through the 'arrivals' area. He was slumped against a pillar, nervously scuffing his shoes on the floor, his hat pulled down low. It took me a while to realize it was the same hat I'd given him weeks ago. He looked up, as though sensing I was there, and a smile like I've never seen spread across his face.
"Hey!" He yelled, embracing me in a hug. "Fuck, I've missed you."
"I missed you too. Nice hat." I told him. flipping the brim. He blushed.
"I haven't stopped wearing it."
"I hope you've washed it."
He grinned and waved me to the exit.
"Let's get out of here."

Now, I'm not stupid, but I get really confused in airports. There's so many hallways and corridors and so many people that I just have no idea what to do. But thankfully Patrick had his head screwed on today and led me to the exit. Finally, we were in the car. He always had the radio on quietly, never loud. His eyes were always fixated on the road and he would reply to you without looking at you, biting his lip as he concentrated on the road. Unlike most drivers, who always attempted to answer their phone or read a text while on the road, Patrick stored his phone on the dashboard, ignoring it as it slid about with each indication. Halfway home, it began to ring.
"You want me to get it?" I asked, picking it up and showing him it.
"No." He said, glancing at the screen. "No!"
"Why not?" I asked, turning it over to look at the screen. The name flashing across it was 'Anna'. I began to grin. I didn't say a word, but placed the phone back and let it ring like Patrick instructed. For the remainder of the way, Patrick hummed the song on the radio under his breath and avoided my gaze, squinting through his glasses for something to do. I kept quiet and grinned as I watched the rain begin to fall and slide down the windows.
Patrick parked the car on the street, amongst all the fallen leaves of the end of September and the cold wind. The clouds overhead were beginning to darken and there was the feeling in the air of when it was about to rain. Patrick attempted to drag my bag up the drive, but after falling several times, I carried it in effortlessly, shaking my head at him.
I was greeted by a very excited Ellie, and, thankfully, a laid back Robyn. When we'd done the whole 'how was your vacation?' thing, Patrick and I disappeared to my room. Just like old times.
Except, it wasn't.

"So, tell me about the girl." I said, when he'd sat himself comfortably on my bed.
"What?" He said, feigning confusion.
"You know." I said. "The girl. The one calling you."
"Oh," Patrick shifted and chewed his lip. "Well, uh, she's called Anna."
"Yeah, I gathered, Sherlock." I said, rolling my eyes. "So how long's this been going on?"
I sat opposite him on the bed and he took a deep breath and looked at me.
"About two weeks."
"And?"
"And what?"
"How did you meet? Come on, I'm a girl. Tell me the details."
I think he was expecting it to be like the way guys tell each other they have a girlfriend;
"So what's with that chick? You digging her?"
"Yeah."
"Cool."

But no way was that me.
"Well, uh. We met at one of our shows."
And so he told me everything. How she'd come up to him backstage and started talking to him. How he'd been so nervous he'd blushed and stuttered and felt the blood pounding in his head so hard he thought she could hear it. How he got so fidgety he dropped his guitar case on his foot. It all sounded so much like him. I watched the way his cheeks turned a rosy pink when he said her name. I listened to the way his voice sounded softer and further away when he recalled the last time they'd seen each other. And what I noticed most of all surprised me, he wasn't fidgeting anymore.
"She's just... great." He finished, looking up once more. He had been staring at a corner of my room as he spoke, a glazed look in his eyes, as though he were forgetting I were there and he was only thinking about her. He blushed more fully now as he caught my own gaze, and nervously smiled. Why was he suddenly nervous around me?
"So, you wanna go get something to eat?" He asked, quickly, before I could talk. I nodded in surprise, and he jumped up, grinning at me.
"We could call Pete and Joe on the way." He decided, rather than asked, and hurried out of my room. Okay, now something was up. Did he not want to be alone with me anymore?
I didn't say anything in the car as he drove towards the local diner we hung out in. It was 60s themed, typically, booths with smooth plastic chairs and red and white checkered tables everywhere. Framed records and album posters hung on the walls, so it was more like a cross between the Hard Rock Cafe and an Italian restaurant.
Pete and Joe joined us when we sat down, and for once, I felt awkward around them. They laughed and joked about everything that had happened during the summer, how it was funny one night when Joe knocked Pete out by hitting him on the head with his guitar while playing a show. They didn't make me feel left out, per se, but I still felt weird being around them when so much had happened and I hadn't been there.
"Oh, oh, it's your gal, stud." Pete laughed as he glanced at the door. The four of us turned around, and then I saw her.
All, at least 5 foot 8 of her, much, much taller than I ever would be.
She was pretty, but not gorgeous. She had the tendency to look, forbid me, a little ugly if she didn't take care of herself the way she did. Her hair was short and cropped, and looked as though it hadn't seen it's natural color for a long time.
But all I needed to see was Patrick's smile when he caught sight of her. The way his eyes lit up showed it all. He quickly got up and as he greeted her, he gave her a light peck on the cheek. It never failed to astonish me just how much of a gentleman Patrick was, without realizing himself.
"Hey guys." She said, as they approached the table. They said their hellos and grinned at her.
"Anna, this is Lisa, Lisa, this is Anna."
"Nice to meet you." She said, with a smile. "I've heard so much about you."
"You too." I replied, returning it. I wondered whether she thought I was one of those people who would try and steal her boyfriend away. All the people I seemed to encounter thought that.
The next hour or so was quite enjoyable, although, there wasn't as much laughter or messing around as there was before summer. As much as I liked the time I was spending with them, something was churning in the pit of my stomach.
"You alright?" Pete asked me, cornering me as I vacated the bathroom.
"Yeah. You?" I asked, casually. I didn't want him to see that something was bothering me. To tell you the truth, I didn't want to admit to myself that something was. I couldn't put my finger on it.
"You've been quiet."
"Well, you guys have been talking non stop."
"What's up?" He questioned, his voice a tone softer. I avoided his eyes. I shrugged and bit my lip.
"Lee, you can tell me. We're friends." He said, taking my arm.
"You wouldn't get it. Even I don't." I shrugged again.
"I know what it is." He said. I raised my eyebrows. How could he, when I had no clue myself?
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. You're afraid you're gonna lose him." Pete said, indicating Patrick over his shoulder.
"I am not. If you think I'm this obsessive best friend who won't let him have a girlfriend, you got me all wrong." I told him. I didn't know why a resentful tone had crept into my voice.
"You're scared. 'Cause it's his first girlfriend. You're not obsessive - you're just caring."
"Can I go back now?" I asked. I didn't want him to know that he'd put his finger on exactly how I was feeling.
"Lee, listen to me. I don't think you're one of those crazy people on the television. Everyone gets a little apprehensive when they think their friendship will change."
"But I didn't feel it with you, when you made friends with Patrick."
"Yeah, but that's different."
"How?"
"Because I don't have the ability to break his heart. You know just as well as me that either one of them could end up with a broken heart. I know you don't want that. No one does."
I fidgeted and shifted on my feet. Pete really was observant.
"I wouldn't worry. Patrick's a good guy. He won't push you away."
"I know he won't. I just..." I struggled for the words.
"Don't want him to get hurt." Pete finished for me.
"Right." I nodded.
"You can't look out for him all your life, Lisa. I know he depends on you, but he's got to grow up someday."
I opened my mouth to agree, but Joe yelled across the chatter.
"You guys coming back or what?"
Pete winked at me and nodded in the direction of the table.
"Don't worry. You'll always be best friends." He whispered, before leading me back.

I couldn't stop thinking about what Pete had said, how he'd managed to voice my thoughts when I didn't even know them myself. He was right, though. I wasn't obsessive - I just didn't want to see Patrick with a broken heart. Plus, there was something so weirdly odd at the fact that, Patrick, the kid who always insisted on staying in and playing records other than partying, was now besotted after just two weeks. He was growing up, and it was one of the strangest things to see. It was like, when your parents divorce and you watch them fall in love with other people. It was sort of sad, but you were happy for them at the same time.
Glancing at Patrick and Anna as they laughed at a private joke, my eyes were drawn to their hands, under the table. They were intertwined, their fingers linked, while Patrick twirled the ring on her finger around aimlessly as he talked to her.
I looked at them there, and despite what Pete and I had discussed, I sort of knew that things would never be the same again.
There weren't any words to say. Their hands said them all.