August

"Gah! Stop it Pete!" I squirmed away as he poked my sides. Yes, my sore, beat up, stretched out sides.

"Tell me what happened! Come on dude, tell me!" He poked harder and gazed down harder at me.

"Fine! Fine! You really want to know? First off tell me why we're listening to Fiona Apple?"

We hadn't really talked since Halloween (how it is with everyone) and it was half-way through November before I had given hints at any little details. So, when we got back to his house to hang out he began to pry it out.

"Fuck off Brendon she's sexy! But, seriously, it can't be too bad? Come not like you two could have, you know, with the baby."

"Ew and ew! Pete, you gutter brain, that is not how everyone makes up." I uncurled from the ball I was in and repositioned on the futon.

"I can't help it!" Pete said defensively.

"Whatever. We talked."

"Good…" he nodded and smiled, "Wait, about what?"

He glared at me, while I stared back not showing emotion. Pete couldn't help that he wanted what was best for everybody, but it didn't mean he needed to be an ass about the situation.

"Ok, not about that," His face dropped even more into the pit of anger, "It is complicated."

"Oh shut up! Frickin' Avril Lavigne over there...and then Butcher and Gabe told me you smoked some with them. Tell me that one's not true."

"Who cares if it is? It isn't like it is a big deal-"

"First off, if you weren't going to get rid of the baby at least bother to take care of it," I huffed as Pete scolded me, "Secondly, Ryan and you have nothing! He doesn't care about, so get over-"

"Yes he does!"

"No he doesn't! If he did, he wouldn't being doing this shit to you." His voice level was rising by each word.

"Come on, Pete I'm going home," I forced myself to keep calm down. There was no point in debating the matter anymore. Besides, it's not like his little brain would be able to comprehend having emotions run this deep with a person. And it isn't like he can keep a relationship for more then a month or two either!

"What if I don't take you? Hm?" Pete looked me up and down, then crossed his arms in frustration.

"Don't get in my face right now." I started to stand up again.

"Fine, but I'm not taking you." He shouted as I walked away.

"I'll walk," Shoving out the door, Mrs. Wentz came in carrying groceries.

I tipped my head and held the door open for her. About half way down the block Pete came with his car to pick me up. Mrs. Wentz being the nice lady she is probably yelled at him for making me walk. Slowing down the car to a stop I got in to find him gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white. I buckled myself into the uncomfortable environment. As the car ride dragged on we somehow inched towards my house, by which then he had loosened his grip.

"Sorry, man," Pete said as I almost shut the door.

"It's fine…" I lied and grabbed my side. Then like nothing happened I walked up my driveway and waved as he went by.

"Brendon come here! I want you to see this!" My mom called for the second I walked in the door.

"Where's here?"

"The computer room." I kicked off my shoes and trudged forward. She greeted me with a smile as pulled up a chair next to her, "What do you think of this crib?"

"Uh…. Who's it for?" Her face tightened as she looked at my stomach. The light-bulb went on and I realized in this whirlwind I thought it was clear we weren't keeping it, "Mom, I wanted to give the baby up, I'm sorry I thought you knew. I just- I'm so sorry, I know I can't take care of-"

"Don’t be sorry, you can make decisions." She put her hand on my knee and clicked to another page, "I shouldn’t have gotten ahead of myself." Her voice got hushed and smaller.

"Well, I'm going upstairs."

"What are you going to do?"

"I was going to study a little."

"Ok. I guess I'll get dinner started then." We exchanged one more forced smile to each other and I went to my room.

Heading to my now stark looking red bathroom I placed myself upon my the side of my tub. I debated with the voices in my head- none of them went for the same side and soon there were new sides I'd never heard or thought of before. I felt to need to release this aggravation with the world, but I couldn't do it this time and I thought for a moment I was better.

But I had let my guard down too soon…

Hearing a loud crash so I went down to the last two steps. What I heard made my arms feel heavy and my feet unable to lift from the ground- my mother was quietly crying to herself with a skillet on the floor.

Air becomes mercury.

Look around.

Rest on banister.

Bolt back upstairs.

Once I was in my room again the only logical step to get rid of the guilt I was then feeling was to give up and dig a razor in.