FicWad

I dropped Patrick off at this little, happy-looking house. I even walked him to the door. Cause, I’m nice like that. It soon became clear that Joe’s family was Jewish. The second the door opened I spotted the mezuzah on the door frame further in. Joe answered, of course, stupid grin on his face. Like an afro clown. Jewish afro clown. Okay, so that wasn’t particularly witty, it’s early and I’m ill. I said goodbye to Trick, who strangely hugged me before I left, then got back in my car.

When I finally got the center and dropped myself into the big comfy brown chair opposite the twitchy man I’d learned to despise over the years, I sighed and pulled my knees up to my chest.

‘So, Peter…’ He began, interlocking his fingers and leaning closer.

‘Pete’ I growled

‘Do you not like being called Peter?’ He asked, eyes narrow

‘You should know…’ I mumble, ‘I’ve been coming here for almost three years now’

‘And you have yet to tell my why you dislike being called Peter’ He answered, he always has an answer

‘Because you have yet to ask…’ I spit back, wiggling around in the chair

He opened his mouth, I knew what he was going to say, so instead of hearing his smug bullshit question I decided to answer before he asked.

‘Because that’s what my mom always called me.’ I grumble, cutting across him, ‘It was always, ‘What are you going to amount to Peter?’ and ‘Do you have no ambition Peter?’ never one word of praise.’

‘It seems you have a lot of anger towards your mother’ He nodded, writing something down.

‘Yeah, well, she’s dead anyway…’ I whisper, ‘So, issue over’

‘It doesn’t seem that way to me’ Dr. Wilson pondered, irritating the hell out of me.

‘Well, what do you know?’ I say, ‘Are you me? I don’t think so…’

Stubborn? Yes. Childish? Probably.

‘You seem slightly more talkative today Peter’ He said, I shuddered at my name, ‘Anything happen that you’d like to talk about?’

‘I left Ash’ I mumbled to my knees

‘And how does that make you feel?’ He asked, how cliché is that?

‘Relieved… but…’ I stop myself, ending with a sigh

‘But…?’ He urged me to continue

‘Alone…’ I shake my head

‘So, now you’re living alone in your apartment?’ He posed, writing more things down.

‘No…’ I say, ‘There’s someone else…’

‘Someone else?’ He continued to prize

‘A friend…’ I answer, looking at the ceiling

‘How long have you known this friend?’ He questioned

‘A few days… I met them the day I left Ash’ I smile

‘And how do they make you feel?’ He asked, pushing his stupid glasses off the tip of his pointy nose

‘Hmmm…’ I though for a while, how did Patrick make me feel? ‘ Happy’

‘Happy?’ He repeated in the form of a question, ‘How does this person make you happy?’

‘They’re just amazing’ I grin, thinking of Trick, ‘God, the kid has some serious singing skills, I swear, they reduced me to tears just by singing. I just can’t help being completely captivated.’

‘Do you love them?’ He asked, as if it was a completely normal thing to say, like a passing comment

‘No…’ I snorted, ‘Patrick’s a guy…’

‘That doesn’t mean you can’t love him’ He seemed very calm for a man who just called me gay.

‘That would make me gay, doctor.’ I state, still trying to hide behind my knees

‘And you’re not?’ He questioned, making me hiss at him

‘No I’m not’ I answer plainly, calmly, with no self doubt at all

Well, for a single moment I had to think about my answer. I just put it down to confusion and surprise that he felt he had to ask. Yeah, I was a bit shocked by the question. Just because I wear eyeliner, that doesn’t exactly make me gay. Just because I wear my ex girlfriend’s jeans from time to time, doesn’t make me gay. Besides, they really do look better on me.

‘So, this Patrick…’ He tried restarting the conversation I’d just killed, ‘Are you two close?’

‘Uhh…’ My face scrunched up a little, ‘Yeah, I suppose so…’

‘What does Patrick do, job wise?’ He enquired, leaning over his desk.

‘Plays guitar’ I reply, ‘He’s so talented’

‘You can play guitar also, is that correct?’ He asks, knowing damn well that I can’t

‘Bass, doc’ I sigh, ‘I can play bass’

‘Oh yes, bass’ He responded, still doodling in that book thing

‘That’s what I said’ I hoot, picking at the frayed ends of my jeans

‘Does Patrick know?’ He asked, full of questions today I noticed

I continue checking my watch every few minutes, desperate to leave. I hated talking to this guy. He’s supposed to just listen but he’s sat there judging me. I’m not paranoid. I can feel it. Seething into me deep. This nagging scrutiny. Just because he’s better than me, and he knows it.

‘No, Patrick doesn’t know.’ I counter, ‘I didn’t think it was important’

‘Well, this Patrick sounds like a very musically influenced boy,’ He bobs his head knowingly, ‘Maybe it’s something he’d like to know?’

I think about this for a while. Sure, he’s in a band. Maybe it is something he’d like to know. I check my watch. Hour’s almost up! I cheer inside.

‘Well, Mr. Wilson…’ I smile

‘Doctor..’ He coughs

‘Eh..’ I reply, sticking my hand out and wiggling it back and forth, ‘Why not… Okay, so, not that I don’t appreciate the pearly pearliness of the pearls of wisdom you clearly are full of but I’ve got places to be, lives to take , fires to start.. etcetera..’

I hop up from my swirly chair and hold my hand out for a high five. When I’m left hanging I simply lick my fingers, stroke my fringe then salute him. Before I get out of the door however he calls after me.

‘Well, good luck with Pat, Peter’ He calls, smiling that shit eating grin of his.

My eyes practically glow red, I spin on the spot.

‘His name is Patrick,’ I growl, ‘And my name is Pete. Jesus, I pay you for this shit, the least you could do is get my name right. Mr. Wilson’

I shake my head on the way out, pretending I didn’t hear him call me an asshole under his breath. With it being only nine in the morning, I figured that it would probably be too early for me to go cruising over to wake Frank up so I just decide to go home. Well, I was going to go home. That was until Patrick called me. Well, someone called me from Patrick’s cell.

‘Hey Trick’ I answer, ‘Sup?’

‘It’s Joe actually…’ A voice answered, dorky and clear ‘And nothing’s sup...’

‘So, why are you calling?’ I ask, eyebrow raised, leaning against the trunk of the car.

‘Well, Patrick was about to call you, but he went to the little boys room’ Joe snorted down the phone, ‘He said you’d be back from… wherever at about nine… So he was wondering… well, hoping really… if you’d want to hang with us today?’

‘Uh... Sure I gu…’ I was cut off by a loud noise on the other side of the phone, Joe was screaming for mercy from someone as he was beat around the head with some sort of pillow and Patrick was barking at him.

The chaos ended and, I assume, Patrick had won.

‘Bonjour’ Patrick cooed

‘Ahh… Bonjour monsieur’ I smile stupidly

‘So, as my dear friend has probably already said, would you like to hang with us today?’ He said, I could hear the grin in his voice

‘Sure… Sounds great...’ I nod, then curse inside when I realize that he can’t see me anyway

‘Cool… See you soon?’ He asks

‘Later dude’ I end the conversation with a sweet goodbye

‘Later Pan’ He says

‘Wait…’ I stop him hanging up, ‘What did you call me?’

‘Pan... Peter Pan, right?’ He says, ‘Well, Pete Pan… Peter sounds… weird on you’

I sigh

‘Totally...’ I laugh, ‘I’m glad someone finally gets that’

‘I’m glad I was the one to get it right’ He giggled, I could kinda hear him blushing, ‘Uh… Later Pan…’

‘See ya Trick’ I smile, hanging up and falling back into my car, lying along the two seats.

Today was going to be great.