And Now We Play The Waiting Game.
Patrick, The NON-Teenage Girl
Patrick lays, staring at the wall. He waits.
He waits.
He waits.
He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, he just only knows that he has this pit of waiting-ness in his stomach that he can’t get rid of.
He’s still waiting, even as Joe comes around, inquiring of his existence. Joe finds Patrick, laying on his back, in the middle of the living room. The furniture around him is cleared, and from here Joe can see Patrick’s earphones, and the fluttering of his eyelids when he stares back up at the ceiling.
Joe walks over and lays next to Patrick, before repeatedly poking Patrick in the stomach. Patrick opens his eyes to glare at Joe.
“Dude, what’re you doing?” Joe continues to poke him in the stomach.
“Waiting.”
“Waiting for…?”
“Nothing, just waiting.”
“You’re weird, you know?”
“Yeah, but you love it.”
“I do.” Something is serious in Joe’s voice. “Hey, wanna go get ice cream with me?”
“You came all the way over for ice cream?” Patrick says incredulously, turning to face Joe. He takes in the slight green tinge of Joe’s eyes, that crooked grin, his fro that’s just been recently shaved off. It’s funny how he feels a part of his waiting chip away.
“No, I came to see if you were alive cause you haven’t been answering your phone, but since you’re ‘waiting’, why not get ice cream to pass the time?” Joe stands up, a hand outstretched.
“Yeah. Ok.”
---
They end up going to the grocery store, and as soon as they enter, Joe shoots off with a cart, leaving Patrick behind. When Patrick finally finds him, Joe is staring at the freezer with twenty different kinds of ice cream in the cart. He finally drags a reluctant Joe away from the sugary treats.
Patrick walks down different aisles, searching for other things he might need around the house, while putting back the different pastries that Joe not-so-sneakily put in the cart. He pretends not to notice, though, when Joe sneaks in a package of snickerdoodles and double-fudge chocolate brownies. After checking out and paying for the sweets, they head back to Patrick’s house.
---
“So apparently, we’re supposed to watch movies now.”
“Dude, I’m not some teenage chick who’s in need of consolation because her boyfriend broke up with her.”
“You are now.”
“Fuck you.”
“Pass me the snickerdoodles, yeah?” Joe ignores Patrick’s comment, and goes to pick something from the stack to DVDs by the television. Patrick passes the cookies, and they both sit down with their respective tubs of ice cream, watching the opening credits to an old horror movie.
Three horror movies, two comedies, a package of brownies and snickerdoodles, eight tubs of ice cream, and a musical later, Joe looks at the time and gives a little groan.
“It’s getting pretty late, I’m gonna go.” He gets up and stretches, bloated from all of the sugary treats they inhaled. Patrick nods and walks him to the door.
“See you tomorrow, man.” Patrick says, and Joe waves back. Patrick’s stomach feels weird as Joe leaves, and he thinks it’s from the sugar, but he realizes his waiting feeling is gone.
“Hey, Joe?” He calls out and Joe turns around.
“My waiting is gone.”
Joe smiles a smile, that says I love you before getting inside of his car. Patrick turns a bright red, but he feels warm inside. He waves as Joe drives away, and thinks I kind of love you, too.
He waits.
He waits.
He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, he just only knows that he has this pit of waiting-ness in his stomach that he can’t get rid of.
He’s still waiting, even as Joe comes around, inquiring of his existence. Joe finds Patrick, laying on his back, in the middle of the living room. The furniture around him is cleared, and from here Joe can see Patrick’s earphones, and the fluttering of his eyelids when he stares back up at the ceiling.
Joe walks over and lays next to Patrick, before repeatedly poking Patrick in the stomach. Patrick opens his eyes to glare at Joe.
“Dude, what’re you doing?” Joe continues to poke him in the stomach.
“Waiting.”
“Waiting for…?”
“Nothing, just waiting.”
“You’re weird, you know?”
“Yeah, but you love it.”
“I do.” Something is serious in Joe’s voice. “Hey, wanna go get ice cream with me?”
“You came all the way over for ice cream?” Patrick says incredulously, turning to face Joe. He takes in the slight green tinge of Joe’s eyes, that crooked grin, his fro that’s just been recently shaved off. It’s funny how he feels a part of his waiting chip away.
“No, I came to see if you were alive cause you haven’t been answering your phone, but since you’re ‘waiting’, why not get ice cream to pass the time?” Joe stands up, a hand outstretched.
“Yeah. Ok.”
---
They end up going to the grocery store, and as soon as they enter, Joe shoots off with a cart, leaving Patrick behind. When Patrick finally finds him, Joe is staring at the freezer with twenty different kinds of ice cream in the cart. He finally drags a reluctant Joe away from the sugary treats.
Patrick walks down different aisles, searching for other things he might need around the house, while putting back the different pastries that Joe not-so-sneakily put in the cart. He pretends not to notice, though, when Joe sneaks in a package of snickerdoodles and double-fudge chocolate brownies. After checking out and paying for the sweets, they head back to Patrick’s house.
---
“So apparently, we’re supposed to watch movies now.”
“Dude, I’m not some teenage chick who’s in need of consolation because her boyfriend broke up with her.”
“You are now.”
“Fuck you.”
“Pass me the snickerdoodles, yeah?” Joe ignores Patrick’s comment, and goes to pick something from the stack to DVDs by the television. Patrick passes the cookies, and they both sit down with their respective tubs of ice cream, watching the opening credits to an old horror movie.
Three horror movies, two comedies, a package of brownies and snickerdoodles, eight tubs of ice cream, and a musical later, Joe looks at the time and gives a little groan.
“It’s getting pretty late, I’m gonna go.” He gets up and stretches, bloated from all of the sugary treats they inhaled. Patrick nods and walks him to the door.
“See you tomorrow, man.” Patrick says, and Joe waves back. Patrick’s stomach feels weird as Joe leaves, and he thinks it’s from the sugar, but he realizes his waiting feeling is gone.
“Hey, Joe?” He calls out and Joe turns around.
“My waiting is gone.”
Joe smiles a smile, that says I love you before getting inside of his car. Patrick turns a bright red, but he feels warm inside. He waves as Joe drives away, and thinks I kind of love you, too.
♠ ♠ ♠
:)