FicWad

French toast. Fucking French toast. Patrick seemed to have this weird knack for finding tiny little diners in the middle of nowhere that serve just the best breakfast. I laughed around a mouthful of food, Patrick was cutting his toast into two sets of nine, slicing the bread twice vertically and twice horizontally.

‘What are you doing?’ I asked, swallowing

‘Cutting my toast?’ Patrick stated, as if it wasn’t obvious

‘Well, I can see that..’ I pointed at the plate, ‘But why so small?’

‘Oh.. See, this is genius’ Patrick grinned, pointing at each piece individually, ‘I work along the pieces, right? Then, if I don’t feel that hungry when I get to the last couple of pieces, I can just leave them for someone else to eat cause I haven’t touched them and there’s no complaint about hygiene cause they’re uncontaminated.’
I just blinked.

‘Again, you are so weird’ I snorted, stuffing my mouth

‘That really hurts, you know’ He put a hand over his heart, acting ‘Right here’

‘Yeah, cause that’s not weird at all’ I say sarcastically, ‘Oh, idea!’

‘What?’ Patrick asked, slowly working through his tiny, tiny squares

‘Quick fire questions, kay?’ I smiled, ‘I ask you a question with two choices and you pick one of the options then ask me a question’

‘Sure, cause we’re teenage girls right?’ Patrick rolled his eyes

‘Humor me jackass’ I kicked his shin gently under the table, and he sighed, ‘Right, Bowie or Prince?’


‘Oh, you can’t do that!’ He complained, pouting to his plate

‘Can too,’ I smirked, cockily ‘Rules is rules’

‘Fine’ He sighed, considering what his answer would be ‘Bowie... Fine, my question now. Christmas or Easter?’

‘What kind of question is that?’ I hooted, scratching my head, ‘Christmas, duh. Ketchup or barbeque?’

His nose scrunched up.

‘Oh, you’re not a ketchup hater are you?’ I asked, eyebrow raised

‘No..’ He shook his head, still looking in disgust, ‘Barbeque makes me hurl’

‘Seriously?’ I chuckled, ‘I bet you’re one of those freaks who like liquorice, right?’

He was quiet for a small amount of time, finishing his seventh square.

‘Shut up..’ He whispered

‘Ohh, you are!’ I cried, ‘See, know you so well’

‘Whatever’ He flipped me off, stuffing two squares in his mouth, ‘Run along to your psychiatrist Mr. Wentz.. I’ll be perfectly fine here on my own’

‘Pfft..’ I huffed, getting up regardless ‘Already, love has torn us apart... Sob’

‘Laaaame’ He rolled his eyes, ‘Go.. Go... Go.. I’ll see you later, I’ll probably be with Joe’

‘You girls going to be sat on your ass watching Star Wars back to back again?’ I exhaled, mockingly

‘No, we’ve got to go buy a bridesmaid dress...’ He shooed me away with a wave and blew me a kiss

I caught it and put it in my pocket. Yeah, we’re sad. We’re only playing around though. It’s not like we actually act like that seriously. We’re men. Big strong, men. Behaviour like that is very unmanly and that just wouldn’t do. Putting my eyeliner on in the rear-view mirror of the car was tricky but I got it done to my satisfaction. I knew that if I took my sweet time I’d probably be about ten minutes late. I wasn’t bothered at all. Shit, I pay him enough. He can wait.

Sure enough, I turn up at five passed nine having took the long way around. I had to have a total blow out bitch to the secretary before she let me in, grumbling about punctuality. I didn’t care, I was in the mood for pissing people off today. It wasn’t too long before Mr. Wilson put on his oh-sure-I’m-concerned-but-mostly-about-my-paycheque face, leaning over the desk to smile at me with a shit eating grin.

‘So, Pete..’ Mr. Wilson nodded, ‘How’re you feeling?’

‘Good’ I answered honestly, ‘There’s some shit going on but...’

‘What.. uh.. shit.. would this be?’ He asked, looking fake concerned, ‘Would this have something to do with your suicide attempt?’

‘No, no, no.. I am not discussing that.. It wasn’t a suicide attempt… It was an accident.. End of… Now,I’ I sighed, where to begin? ‘Ash might be pregnant with my kid’

‘And how does that make you feel?’ He enquired, in the same annoying tone

I rubbed my temples and laughed airily. How does that make me feel? How did he think that made me feel? I was completely terrified. Not because it was Ash. Not because she would be the mother of my child. Sure, that was scary but that wasn’t the reason I was so afraid. I wouldn’t make a good father. I wouldn’t. I’d be just like my own dad. I shrugged.

‘Scared?’ I answered, sighing

‘Why are you scared?’ He asked, running his finger on his chin

‘That kid... If it was mine.. Would turn out so bad.. it’s not even funny’ I was close to sobbing, thinking back to my parents

The dining room in my parent’s house was wide and I felt so tiny. The two of them seemed to be sat staring at me from the other side of the room, sat at the opposite end of the table. I couldn’t have been more than nine years old, standing at the end, barely being able to see over the top. My mom sighed.

‘Isn’t he supposed to be in his room studying?’ She asked my father who gave me an equally disapproving look

‘Yeah, he’s taking a five minute break then straight back in’ He nodded, smiling at me and winking, ‘Right champ?’

‘I wanna... play’ I said hesitantly, staring at my feet

‘You’ll have plenty of time to play when you’re older’ My mother shook her head, coming to my side and literally dragging me to my bedroom, ‘The most important thing in the world is qualifications. If you don’t get plenty of money and a good job, life is pointless... You want a good life don’t you?’

‘Yes, mom’ I didn’t feel like arguing, knowing I would never win

‘What are you sweetie?’ She asked, holding on my shoulder

‘A winner...’ I mumbled to my feet

‘That’s the spirit’ She ruffled my hair and closed the door behind her on her exit

I remember, that’s when the loneliness started. That suffocating sting of solitude. Just another kid who’s parents fucked up. Another kid verging on the edge cause of a shitty childhood. I was a statistic. The amazing three in four who’s lives had somehow been twisted by a generation of parents who didn’t know jack. Upsetting? Yes but that didn’t mean I didn’t want kids of my own, taking a vow at the age of twelve to never screw with my own kid like that. Though, the prospect of ruining another life had me shaking in my skinny jeans.

‘The way that the child is in later life depends on the amount of love and affection given,’ He nodded, so damn smug ‘You seem a very passionate person.. I’m sure you’ll do fine Pete’

‘And how do you know, doc?’ I mumble, ‘Ash, clearly doesn’t think so… Telling me that she wants nothing to do with me…’

‘She’s probably just as scared as you are’ Mr. Wilson shrugged, ‘She’s only…’

‘Twenty’ I answer

‘Twenty, after all’ Mr. Wilson gestured, ‘It must be difficult for her’

‘Bet the liquor helps’ I decided to make the best impression of her I could, ‘Oh, noes! I’m just now seeing through my superficial little world and witnessing how terrible the world is! Sob, sob, sob. Glug, glug, glug.’

‘Now that’s not very nice Peter’ Mr. Wilson raised his eyebrow, that was it

‘Well,’ I gave a sarcastic laugh, ‘Life isn’t very nice, Wilson. Although, I have figured in these passed few days that it’s a hell of a lot nicer without people frowning down on you once a week’

‘Please calm yourself Peter’ He said, his tone meant to be soothing

‘PETE!’ I yelled so loud that my lungs hurt, ‘P-E-T-E! No R! There is no R! I abandon my R! Removed from my name and sent to execution along with the Dr in front of your alleged title. To the gallows with thee! Well, technically just the letters D and R… Sort of…’

‘Now, feeling better?’ He asked, waiting patiently for my rant to end

‘Spiffing’ I sighed

‘Why do you lose your temper so quickly.. Pete-eh.. Pete?’ Mr. Wilson tried the more cautious approach this time

‘Why do you ask so many questions.. Doct-uh… Mr. Wilson?’ I retort, thinking I’m so damn funny then slapping myself in the head, because, duh, he’s a psychiatrist, ‘Alright… I actually do need some advise but.. not for my own sake…’

‘With Patrick?’ He asked, leaning further over his desk

‘No actually...’ I sighed, ‘It’s my friend… She’s been taking Zoloft and she’s pregnant.. I...uh... wondered if that might have any bad side-effects on the baby? You know, like, death?’

‘It would be highly unlikely that the baby would die’ Mr. Wilson sighed, thinking to himself, ‘How ever, the baby might develop depression or suicidal tendencies in later life…’

Great. Another one like me. Supposing this is my kid, and the way Ash is popping more pills than an O.A.P this baby’s going to be seriously messed up. I sighed, not like it mattered anyway. She didn’t want anything to do with me. So, even if it is my kid, none of my business, right?

‘Well,’ I was glad to see that the final session was finally over, ‘I don’t think I’ll be coming anymore, doc… I feel better… Oh, and could you cancel my dose of Zoloft? I don’t need them…’

‘If you’re sure, Pete’ He nodded slowly, stretching his hand out, wishing to shake mine, ‘Well, it’s been a pleasure’

‘You know I hate you, right?’ I shook his hand but smiled politely

‘Mutual’ Mr. Wilson laughed, and seriously, I had more respect for him then than I had the whole time I’d known him

‘Bye Dr. Wilson’ I said on my way out

‘Goodbye Pete’ He waved, returning to his paperwork on the side of his desk