The Talent Show

The air smelled of evergreens and honey. The sound of birds was ever-present. The faint sound of a Spanish guitar was getting louder and louder. Patrick was convinced his was in heaven. He climbed up the hill with his backpack and guitar case in tow. He could see the sign at the top. Lake Hiawatha Summer Music Camp. His stomach churned and his mind rushed as he pushed himself further. The top was coming into view. The music wasn’t in his head, but instead was being played by an young man against a tree. The man heard him and looked up. Seeing that he had a visitor he stood up and gingerly laid the guitar against the tree trunk. He approached him almost nervously, “Hello.”

“Hi, I’m Patrick Stump. I am here for camp?” he adjusted the brim of his trucker cap.

“Oh so you’re the one that’s taking four different majors this summer?” he laughed a little but regained his composure, “Nice to meet you. I am Craig. I am a counselor here at Lake Hiawatha. The last tram to the cabins actually just left, but another one should be here in about five minutes. You mind waiting?” he shrugged his shoulders.

“No, not at all,” Patrick lips curled into a smile. “Whatcha playing?”

Craig looked back to his guitar, “Oh nothing just fooling around.”

Patrick sauntered closer to it with a hungry look in his eyes, “Mind if I try?”

“No, go ahead,” Craig said but it was pointless.

Patrick was already plucking away at the instrument. His fingers running eloquently against the strings. He bit his lip innocently and continued to play. He looked up to Craig and saw his face blankly surprised. He stopped. “What?”

“Are you studying Spanish guitar here too?” Craig crooked his neck in question.

“No, I just play for fun. I’m taking the advanced guitar 5 course,” he put the guitar back against the tree and picked up his own case.

“Well, I’ll be very… interested in what you come up with this summer,” Craig shoved his hands in his pockets.

A taxi cab came into sight as it ascended quickly up the hill. It stopped and shot up dust into the summer wind. A boy stepped out of the back and slammed the door shut. He had black cropped hair and wore white wayfarers. He had on a hoodie and tight jeans with Nikes. He went to the trunk and pulled out a black backpack and an acoustic bass bag. He shut the trunk door and bounced over to Craig and Patrick. “I’m here!” he smiled and raised his hands above his head.

“Hi, are you here for camp?” Craig said politely.

“Duh,” the boy said and pointed to his bass. “Don’t carry this thing around for fun.”

Craig smiled, annoyed. “Of course, you don’t. Well, I’m Craig. I’m a counselor here. What’s your name?”

“Pete Wentz,” he smirked.

Just as he said it, a golf cart came down the hill and stopped near the group. A twenty-something girl with long dreads was driving. “Campers?”

Craig nodded to her, “Boys, this is Aline. She is a girl’s counselor here and she is gonna show you too your cabins.”

“All aboard,” she smiled sarcastically.

Both boys climbed on. Patrick in the passenger seat. Pete in the rear facing second row.

“So,” Aline took her clipboard from the dashboard. “Names please?”

“Patrick Stump.” “And Pete Wentz.”

Aline scanned her clipboard. “Do you guys know eachother?”

“No,” they said together.

“Well. What do you know? Cabin Mates in Cabin 170,” she forced a smile and slammed on the gas, propelling herself farther up the trail.

Patrick didn’t look back to see him again. Cabin mates? He was going to have to share a cabin with him. Patrick sighed and felt like he wasn’t gonna get anything done this summer with his “why am I here?” roommate.

Pete was sitting in the back, arms crossed. He refused to get a second look at him. He was gonna be stuck rooming with a total square. What’s the fun in high jinks and mayhem if there is no one to cause it with?

They pulled up to Cabin 170. “Here you are. Cabin Sweet Cabin. The key is under the mat. Do you need anything else?”

Pete spoke first, “Nope. We’re all good. Thanks, Aline,” he winked a bright eye to her.

She choked out a laugh and gassed it back down the hill.

Pete turned to Patrick. “Well, let’s see it then.”

They climbed the small set of steps to the porch. Patrick opened the screen door. Pete grabbed the key from under the mat and twisted it in the keyhole. The door stuck but came loose when Pete shoved it a little. They looked inside. It was surprisingly small for its own building. Not much bigger than a single bedroom. It had windows along the top of all the walls, letting in the summer light. A leaky air conditioner was popped into a window and letting out feeble wisps of cool air. The beds were pushed against the opposite walls and the mattresses looked thin and moldy. Desks were placed near the beds. Pete walked closer to the back of the room and saw a door leading to a bathroom. A rusty shower, sink, and toilet sat looking lonesome. Just looking at it, Pete immediately felt like he needed a shower himself.

When he came back in the room, Patrick was already seated on the left bed. Pete walked over to the right one. “This one looks good,” he said and dropped his things on it. He took off his sunglasses and placed them on the desk. He sat down facing Patrick. “So where are you from?” he began unpacking his backpack. He didn’t have much clothes wise but he did have stacks of notebooks. Spirals, compositions; you name it, he had it. He piled them on the desk.

Patrick watched him do so curiously. “I’m from… like an hour north of here. Evanston. What about you?”

“An hour and a half north of here. Wilmette. Why are you here?” Pete scratched at his teenage stubble.

Patrick laughed, “Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to play music. Why are you here, then?”

“My parents said I had to get out of the house this summer. It was either this or ballroom dancing camp,” Pete grimaced.

“Well do you actually play music?” Patrick asked, sounding a little stuck up.

“Yea, I’ve played bass in a couple metal bands before.”

“Prodigious, aren’t you?” Patrick sneered.

“I get the job done,” Pete lay back on his bed.

“So that’s your major. Metal bass,” Patrick smiled at himself.

“Haha, no. Its bass performance and lyrical writing,” Pete closed his eyes.

“Oh so you’re a softy underneath it all?” Patrick inquired.

“I guess you could say that,” Pete smiled. “And your major?”

“Guitar, piano, voice, and song writing,” Patrick said pompously.

“Your mother must be so proud,” Pete laughed.

Patrick opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by a loud trumpet being blast over an intercom. “In Storm and Sunshine,” Patrick said aloud.

“What’d you say?” Pete looked towards him from the bed.

Patrick took it as some sort of music nerd cattle call. He went to the door and looked out through the screen. “That’s the piece they are playing. I think they want us to gather,” he said watching the cabins in the circle spit out pairs on girls and boys.

“Oh God, it’s only like 3 o’ clock. Can’t we nap first?” Pete grabbed his glasses off the desk and lazily pulled himself out of bed.

They both walked down to the center of the cabin circle. The meeting area consisted of a loop of logs placed facing each other and a fireplace in the center. “Glamorous,” Pete whispered just loud enough for Patrick to hear.

“What were you expecting?” Patrick muttered back.

“Well I was not expecting the girls here to be so cute.”

Patrick looked up to see what he was talking about. A pair of girls was walking over to where they were. He put his eyes on the ground.

“Hello, ladies,” Pete said smoothly, “welcome to Lake Hiawatha. Is this your first year too?”

“Yeah, it is actually,” one of them giggled.

Patrick could not believe this was happening. He looked up to see two girls. The one that spoke was tall with long, wavy brown hair that hung to her back. She had blue eyes and a sweet smile. The other was a bit shorter with medium length straight strawberry blonde hair, hazel eyes and freckles across her nose.

“Well if you want to take a good look around the camp sometime, just call me. Pete Wentz; Cabin 170,” he held out his hand and both of them shook it.

“Would that tour include your friend?” the brunette eyed Patrick as if he was a piece of meat.

“Of course! Ladies, this is Patrick Stump. You know he’s the one taking four majors this year,” Pete put an arm around Patrick and hugged him close like they had come out of the womb like that.

“Oh you’re the one! Well it looks like I’ll be in voice with you then, Patrick,” her blue eyes turned electric, “I am Ethan and this is my friend Felicity, Cabin 120.” She turned to the blonde.

“What’s your major, Felicity?” Pete nodded towards her.

“Trumpet and dance,” she smiled confidently.

“Was it you I heard over the intercom?” he asked.

Felicity smiled, “Yeah, it was.”

“Ah, In Storm and Sunshine. Well, done?” Pete winked at her.

Patrick almost burst out laughing. Man, this guy was something else.

“So are you two gonna be working together for the Talent Show,” Ethan asked.

“What’s the Talent Show?” Pete asked.

“Someone didn’t read the brochures!” Patrick butted in with a giggle.

Ethan beamed at the humor and turned back to Pete, “it’s a talent show at the end of camp. You can work with whoever you want but everyone has to do something in relation with their major. The winner or winners get a scholarship to come back next summer.”

“Well what if you’re a senior?” Pete asked. Patrick was silently shocked that someone so immature was older than him by a year.

“Well, than the money is yours,” Felicity smiled.

“People! People! Settle down,” Craig shouted in the center of the circle.

The girls took a seat across the circle and they listened to counselors talk about all the things the camp offered, rules, pass out class schedules, and wish them off. “Dinner in a half-hour. Be at the dining hall across camp,” Craig shouted as people ran back to their cabins.

Patrick and Pete went back to the room. Pete lay back on the bed looking exhausted. Patrick started to unpack his things and put them in his drawers.

“Man, that brunette was diggin you,” Pete said half to his pillow.

“Me?” Patrick folded his t-shirt.

“Yes, you. She barely took her eyes off you. You should hit her up?” Pete turned over on his back.

“Yeah no thanks,” Patrick laughed.

“Why not?”

“Well, 1. She’s taller than me. 2. She has a guy name. 3. I’m here for music, not women,” Patrick shrugged his shoulders.

“She’s got those beautiful eyes like you,” Pete said.

Patrick didn’t know how to take that.

“Aw come on. Live a little,” Pete pushed. “We can double date. I’ll take Felicity. She’s so hot in that girl next door way, you know.”

“She has a horse name,” Patrick said simply.

“What’s with you and names?” Pete scowled.

“A name can say a lot about a person,” Patrick took out his guitar.

“What does my name say about me?” Pete turned over to look at him.

Patrick never missed a beat, “It says you’re an arrogant douche that just wants to get in girl’s pants.”

Pete looked at him for a second, “Man, you’re good.” He turned onto his back.

“So when are your classes?” Patrick asked grabbing his own schedule from the desk.

“Bass is at 2:00 and Lyrics at 4:00,” He had already memorized the times. “When are yours?”

“Piano at 8:00. Voice at 10:00. Composition at 11:00. And guitar at 2:00. Looks like I’ll get the whole afternoon to myself,” Patrick smiled.

“Well. I get to sleep in till 2:00. Plus, I am so glad these classes are only an hour. Couldn’t take it if they weren’t,” Pete got up out of bed. “We should go to dinner.”

Patrick nodded and followed Pete out the door.

_______________________________________

Dear Mom,
It’s only the end first week and I already want to move here. The teachers are amazing. I am learning so much. The weather is lovely, although I usually too busy writing in my cabin to enjoy it. My roommate is great too. He loves music just as much as I do. Just wanted to check in and tell you I haven’t got struck by lightening yet.
Sincerely,
Pat
P.S. That part about my roommate was a lie. He is a complete douche bag.

Patrick erased that last part and stuffed the letter in his back pocket. It was almost 2 o’ clock and time to wake the sleeping lion. Patrick jumped up off his bed and shoved Pete.

“Hey, idiot. It’s almost time for your class,” Patrick shouted.

Pete made cryptic noises and settled back down into sleeping position.

“No sleeping anymore. Class time. You have to go, Pete,” Patrick ripped his covers off. As always he was sleeping in his boxer briefs. His chiseled back twitched from the gust of air conditioning. Patrick couldn’t help but want to feel the cuts in it. He shook the thought off.

“Okay, I’m awake!” Pete yelled. He grabbed the jeans lying next to bed and pulled them on.

Patrick smiled at his success and grabbed his guitar case from the wall.

“I’m gonna go to class. I want to get a good seat,” Patrick opened the screen door.

“Nerd,” Pete pulled a t-shirt on over his abs. “Fine. I’ll see you after class.”

Patrick went on his way. Every day after his 2:00pm guitar class, he would go by the lake and play a bit and be back to the cabin by 5:00pm, just when Pete got back from his lyrical composition class.

He couldn’t tell if Pete was enjoying the camp as much as he was. Pete seemed bored and every day after lights out he would sneak out of the cabin. He didn’t think that Patrick noticed him, but he always heard the screen door being cautiously closed and Pete’s Nikes going down the front steps. The question was what was he doing?

Patrick contemplated this all throughout dinner and pressed Pete for answers. “Hey, did you hear what happened last night? I heard some people talking about it but I didn’t want to eavesdrop.”

Pete took another sip of lemonade and swallowed hard at the bitter taste, “Nope, I was out cold. You shoulda just asked them, Pat.”

“Why don’t you go ask Felicity? She might know,” Patrick pressed for an answer.

“Nah, I stopped talking to her when she started trying to walk me between my classes. I didn’t think about it for awhile, but that horse name thing does freak me out. You were right,” Pete took a bite of his garlic bread.

Patrick felt defeated. He didn’t mention it again until the walk back. “Man doesn’t a hot shower sound like the best thing ever right now?” As gross as it sounded, Pete had only taken one shower the whole first week. Patrick had questions that needed to be answered.

“I got something better,” Pete smiled.

“What?” Patrick jumped at the hint of a reason.

“Wait till lights out. Then I’ll show you,” Pete said as he opened the door to the cabin.

Patrick waited diligently, never showing too much anticipation, yet always keeping the prospect in mind. He was gonna find out Pete’s secret night life tonight.

Lights out was called at promptly nine o’clock. At nine thirty, Pete waved Patrick over to the door.

“What should I bring?” Patrick looked down at his average day clothes.

“Your fine. You don’t need anything. I’ve got the key,” Pete tucked the piece of jagged metal into his front pocket. “Come on.”

They fled through the darkness. Patrick didn’t question, he just followed. They went into the forest. The half moon danced across the sky and gave the trees eerie barely there shadows. Patrick was beginning to wonder how far Pete was gonna take him when they came to an opening in the forest. The moonlight reflected up into their faces. Water.

“What is this?” Patrick’s voice sounded odd to him in the silence of the night.

“I did some research before coming here. It turns out that Lake Hiawatha isn’t the only body of water here. There are actually a small set of hot springs that were used by Native Americans. They thought the hot springs could naturally heal their bodies and also bring them good fortune. So while you stand in your lovely shower with the cold well water that smells like sulfur, I come here and relax in the hot water.”

Patrick was floored. “Wow, so this is where you come every night?” He looked at Pete, but he could barely see him in the low moonlight. Just the edge of his face and, right now, he was smiling like a fool.

“Yeah, this is it. Get in.” Pete waved his arms toward the medium size pool of water. It was about as big as their room. You could see the steam rising from its murky surface.

“I’m not about to get my clothes soaked. It will be freezing when we get out,” Patrick argued.

“Then be normal and take them off,” Pete’s answer seemed obvious. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and kicked off his Nikes and pants. He folded them neatly on the edge of the water. He was down to his underwear and carefully placing his foot in the water, testing it. “It’s perfect,” he said before crawling into the water. He gave a relaxing sigh. “Come on,” he waved for Patrick to come in.

Patrick had no other option. He dragged his shirt over his head and pulled his black Vans off. He felt the cold night air hit his spine and pale his skin. He unbuckled his jeans and pulled them off. He suddenly felt very immature in his blue plaid boxers. He could feel Pete’s eyes on him, but he shook them off and climbed into the water.

It was just what the name entailed; hot. Patrick sat against the edge of the spring. He closed his eyes to the world. “How long do you stay out here?”

“As long as you want,” Pete replied.

Patrick smiled. He was beginning to see the brighter side of this whole roommate thing.

The interesting thing about Lake Hiawatha was that they ran it just like school. You have class, get grades, and also have weekends.

It was 9 o’ clock in the morning on the first Saturday and of all places, Pete was at the lake, feet over the edge just thinking. Pen and paper in lap. He didn’t feel like running as much as just throwing himself into the water and drowning all the words miss mashed in his head like a word search.

He had been up all night, sitting just as he was now on the edge of the lake. He tapped his pen on the pad of paper and sighed hard. He started to write, finally. He kept going. He read it over. He added more. He whispered it to himself. He lied back on the dock. He sat there for a second. He got up and pulled his t-shirt over his head, throwing it to the side. He lied back down and let the sun warm his skin. He closed his eyes. He felt like a corpse inside.

“What are you doing?” said a voice above him.

He opened his eyes. He saw hazel ones standing over him. He sighed, “Hey, Felicity.”

She squinted her eyes, “And I repeat, what are you doing?”

Pete sat up and turned his body to face her. “Writing.”

“Oh, am I disturbing the writing process?” she sat down across from him on the dock.

Pete’s mind said yes, but his mouth said, “No, of course not. I was just thinking of you.” He regretted the lie, immediately.

“Oh really. What about me?” she raised her eyebrows flirtatiously.

Pete’s heart tried to stop him, but his head seemed so sure of its self, “About how pretty you are.” No, this isn’t what he wanted! Why was he doing this?

She giggled, “Is that what you’re writing about?”

No. “Yeah, you’re a pretty piece of inspiration.” Pete’s heart screamed out at him. He could feel it beating out of his chest as an attempt to change his mind, persuade him to not speak these words he didn’t mean.

“Let me see,” she grabbed for the notebook in his lap.

Pete batted her hands away, “No way,” he smiled at her, “never.” What he wrote was not a love song for her. Why did he bother writing it if he was just gonna do this?

“Maybe I could give you more inspiration tonight?” her voice had a forced teenage seduction as if Felicity was imitating her favorite romantic movie.

“Time? Place?” Pete’s brain rushed at the prospect. His heart was fighting frantically. Pete ignored it with all his might.

“Ten o’ clock. My cabin.” She got up and walked back down the dock.

Pete’s heart was weak. He lay back. He no longer felt the sunlight, just the fragmented wood cutting into his skin.

_______________________________________

Patrick was worried. Saturday was supposed be the best day of the week for Pete. He could sleep in, he wouldn’t have class. But instead, Pete had woken earlier than Patrick and seemed barely alive all day.

Patrick woke up just after lunch to the sound of the cabin door slamming. He shot up out of his bed and looked to the source of the noise. He saw Pete ruffling through his things and trying to hide his green spiral in the mess of notebooks. He didn’t think that Patrick saw where he put it.

“What’s wrong?” Patrick rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses on the desk.

Pete didn’t look at him, “What’s it to you?” He stopped organizing the pile and left it the way it was.

Patrick kept his eye on the notebook, memorizing its position in the stack. He looked back to his friend, shaking his head, “I won’t ask.”

Pete slowed down, stopping, looking at Patrick in his bed. “I’m sorry. I’m just stressed out right now. I need to work some things out. I’m gonna drop off my notebook and be on my way.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Patrick tried to help.

Pete shook his head, “No,… You… you just wouldn’t get it.”

Patrick shrugged, “Okay, fine. Hope you feel better.”

And like that, he was out. Almost as fast as he came in. Patrick looked back to the stack. He saw the notebook in the stack. He bit his lip. To pry or not to pry?

Something inside said not to do it. If he stays like this, I’ll look. Patrick rolled over in his bed. He won’t stay like this. He’ll tell me. Give it a day.

_______________________________________

Patrick went to bed. He waited for Pete to retrieve him, for Pete to take him away to the hot springs, but he never came. Patrick heard the screen door open. He heard the tiptoe of Nikes down the steps. He sighed. Something was wrong with Pete. He knew it.

He turned over, staring down Pete’s empty bed. He continued like this till his tired eyes couldn’t stay open anymore.

_______________________________________

Patrick awoke the next morning. It couldn’t have been more than 10 o’ clock. Pete’s bed was still empty. Patrick sighed. It hadn’t been twenty-four hours since he made the promise. He eyed the stack on the desk. Pursing his lips, he thought.

He doesn’t know if it was out of curiosity or betrayal, but he went over to the stack and pulled the green spiral. The misleading word ‘Science’ was written across the front. He opened it flipping through the seemingly endless pages of stanzas and doodles. He flipped till the pages turned white again. He had over flipped. He backtracked through the notebook till he saw the scratchy writing of his friend. Across the top of the page the title “Summer Song” stuck hard in Patrick’s brain. He took a breath before his eyes began scanning the words.

Joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of best friends.
We’re the kids who feel like dead ends.
And I want to be known for my hits not just my misses.
I took a shot and didn’t even come close.
Patrick couldn’t read anymore. His ears were filled with the chord progression. He grabbed his guitar from closet and sat himself down on his bed. He put the notebook in front of him. He started playing the music in his mind. He read along with the lyrics. The melody came alive.

---

Pete was tired. He felt like a stranger in his own body. His limbs felt heavy and his mind was running on low battery. Go home. Recharge., it told him.

He carried himself up the stairs. He heard music coming from the cabin. He stopped at the top of the stairs. He heard Patrick’s voice. So sweet, so innocent. Pete listened to the melody. It sunk his heart to his stomach. “And the record won’t stop skipping. And the lies just won’t stop slipping. And besides my reputations on the line.” Pete’s facial muscles melted away. “We can fake it for the airwaves. Force our smiles, baby, half dead.” Pete’s blood began boiling. His fists tightened. “From comparing myself, to everyone else around me.”

Pete opened the screen door. Patrick was facing the wall. Pete grabbed his left shoulder and spun him onto the floor. Patrick’s guitar flung away from him. He landed hard on the wood floors. The short breaths he took confirmed that the wind had been knocked out of him. Pete didn’t care. He pulled Patrick up by the front of his shirt and drove him into the wall.

“Pete! Stop!” Patrick tried to speak but it came out in a whisper.

“WHY DID YOU DO THAT?” Pete screamed and spat in his face.

“Stop it let me go, Pete,” Patrick’s voice had a calm fear, as if he was trying to hide his fright.

“NO!” Pete shook Patrick’s body, “I TOLD YOU NOT TO LOOK AT MY NOTEBOOKS! I TOLD YOU!”

“Pete. I’m sorry. I was worried about you. You weren’t being yourself,” Patrick shook his head, sincerely apologetic.

“THIS IS ME, PAT! I’M NOT GOING TO CHANGE!” Pete backed up, letting go of Patrick’s shirt. His breaths got short and his voice got quiet. He sat down on his bed. “I’m never gonna change.” He felt flooded with hopelessness.

Patrick sank down the wall, sitting on the floor. He caught his breath, “Pete, where were you last night?”

Pete shook his head, “Doesn’t even matter anymore.”

Patrick repeated himself, “Pete, where were you last night?”

Pete shut his eyes slowly and wiped his brow, “I slept with her.”

Patrick sighed, “Who?”

“Felicity,” Pete’s fingers swept down to his mouth, resting against his lower lip. They grabbed hold of it and tugged at it. His mind raced.

“I’m guessing you didn’t like it?” Patrick said making it seem obvious.

Pete opened his eyes and stared Patrick down. The distress turned to rage. “Fuck you, Patrick.” Pete picked himself up off the floor. “Stay out of my life. I beg of you.” Pete grabbed his jacket and raced out the door. Slamming the screen door behind him. He was leaving. He didn’t care where he went. Anywhere away from Patrick Stump.

_______________________________________

Dear Mom,
Hey! How are you? I’m ending the second week and my skills continue to improve. I can’t wait to show you all I’ve learned. Miss you all the time.
Love,
Pat
Ps. I have barely seen my roommate in five days. He won’t sleep in my cabin anymore but I have no idea where he is sleeping. I’m starting to wonder how to go about dealing with this. I’ve searched for him every night, but I can’t find him. Am I crazy for caring this much? By the constant banging sound on my roof right now, my guesses are he’s up there. Should I get him?Patrick erased the last part. He looked the letter over and stuffed it into his backpack.

Patrick lay awake. It was about 2 o’clock probably. He knew what this was about. Between the hopelessness of Pete’s lyrics, the way he had spent his night with Felicity, and the anger in his eyes when Patrick had found out, it was all too clear to Patrick. He saw himself in Pete at those moments. Angry at everyone, desperate to be different and wanting to break free of Patrick.

Patrick had been there. Patrick had felt that.

As Patrick pondered this, he heard more noises on the roof. A shifting that caused the boards to squeak.

He collected his thoughts. He got out of bed and went outside. He looked around the cabin, eyeing any clue of how one could… Ah-ha. He found a ladder against the back side of the cabin. He wasn’t sure how it had gotten there. But at that point it didn’t matter.

He grabbed hold of the ladder and climbed to the top of the roof. He looked across. Sure enough there was a crunched together little boy near the middle of the shingles. The boy shook from side to side like he was dreaming violently. Patrick crawled across the surface till he reached the boy.

“Pete,” he whispered his first words to him.

The boy didn’t respond, just flung itself to his other side.

“Pete,” Patrick repeated, “It’s me.”

The boy’s eyes that had been shut so hard began to alleviate the force. They opened and looked up towards the sky at their waker.

“How’d you find me?” Pete whispered.

“You were having a bad dream,” Patrick smiled. “You kept banging on the roof.”

Pete sighed. He was mad that he’d given away his secret sleeping location.

Patrick sat down next to him. “You know that we’re gonna have to face this some time.”

Pete sat up, “There’s nothing to face. I’m fine.”

“I know what’s wrong,” Patrick said.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Pete looked to the ground.

“We have to talk about it. You sleeping on the roof is not an option.”

Pete didn’t say anything.

Patrick was forced to take it as an opening. “Look. I know that you think I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I know what’s going on. You’re-“

“Don’t say it,” Pete looked somberly at the ground. “How did you know?”

Patrick sighed, “The song. ‘And besides my reputations on the line. We can fake it for the airways. Force our smiles, baby, halfdead.’ Come on. How can’t you get it?”

Pete grimaced.

“And …it helps that I’ve been there before,” Patrick turned to him.

Pete looked confused. “What do you mean? You’re like the same way?”

Patrick nodded. “And there was a point when I didn’t want to accept it. I fought off every guy and slept with every girl. All it was doing was pushing everyone way from me.”

Pete whispered, “how did you finally accept it?”

Patrick pursed his lips, “My mom told me, ‘Pat, you got to be you because you will never be happy if you are anyone else in life.’ Philosophical discovery or pain medication garblings? Either way, I just took it to heart.”

“Did she know?”

“I’ll never know. Died of melanoma last year.”

Pete was silent for a second, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not the point. The point is that you have to be you. And it’s alright if you don’t accept it now, but eventually you’re gonna have to live with the facts.” Patrick pushed his glasses up his nose.

“What about your dad? Or your friends?” Pete asked.

“They don’t know. No one knows. Except you of course. But all that matters is that I know and that I accept it.” Patrick shifted his weight. “Now let’s get down from here.”

Pete shrugged, “Okay.”

The boys got down off the ladder and crept back into the cabin.

_______________________________________
Dear Mom,
It’s half way through my third week. I only have ten more days!  Why can’t I just stay here all year round? Normally, I would put a P.S. at the bottom that would end up getting erased but I don’t see much a point anymore. You probably know either nothing I think or everything, so why hide it? I have finally figured out that I am in love with my roommate. Unfortunately, I have also figured out that my roommate is in no way, shape, or form ready for a relationship. You’d really like him, Mom. It makes me upset to think that I love him so much that I have that respect for him, but I guess I’m just a gentleman. Either that or a pussy. I think we are gonna do the Talent Show together. He’s a great writer. I got to go to wake him up, but I’ll talk to you later.
Love,
Patrick

---

“The only girl who ever gave me the time was the one who only wanted five minutes of mine. Knocking boots in the back how degrading is that? I decline,” Patrick read them out loud. “I like it. But what’s the chorus gonna be?”

“I haven’t gotten that part yet. I’ll bring it to you when I’m done,” Pete grabbed the green spiral and lay back on his bed. “So what’s going on tonight?”

Patrick reminded himself, “Oh, they have this assembly going on. I don’t know what they’re doing. They just said, bring your instruments.”

“When they gonna call us?” Pete said as he scribbled something on his paper.

Patrick opened his mouth but a loud snare drum solo rapped violently across the loud speaker. “I guess now?” He grabbed his guitar from the corner and went towards the door.

Pete pulled himself up and grabbed his bass while still holding his pen and paper. Patrick held the door open as the boys exited the cabin. They walked quickly across the camp towards the main circle. Other students flooded the area with a loud chatter ringing in Patrick’s ears. He wanted to block them all out. He sat down on one of the log seats and Pete sat beside him.

The sun was setting in the west as Craig called for the student’s attention. “Please, kids,” Craig raised his arms. The crowd pacified and Craig put his arms back down. He shouted out to make sure everyone could hear. “The counselors got together this morning and decided we needed to do something tonight. It was a little short notice but we decided to have an open mike night. Think of it as a Pre-Talent Show.”

The crowd buzzed and the chatter rose in volume. Patrick closed his eyes against it. The appropriate number of sssshhhh’s echoed through the ground and silenced the crowd again.

“We want you all to be respectful of the performances and give each person your full attention,” Craig reasoned. “Now who wants to go first?”

There was a silence in the crowd. Everyone began to look around, eyeing who would be first.

“I’ll go!” said a perky voice towards the back.

Everyone looked towards the voice. It was Ethan. Her blue eyes shone bright.

“Okay, Ethan. Come on up!” Craig seemed happy to have a taker. “What are you gonna do for us?” He asked when she got to the center of the circle.

“I’m gonna sing Natasha Bedingfield’s These Words for you all,” her personality was bubbly and bright. She coughed a little before she began to sing, “Threw some chords together. The combination D E F. It’s who I am, it’s what I do. And I was gonna lay it down for you.”

Patrick already knew she was good. She was amazing. But he didn’t care. He looked over to see what Pete was doing. He was scribbling in the notebook. Quickly as possible. “Here.” Pete threw him the notebook. “That’s the chorus.”

Patrick read it over. Of course it was great. It was Pete’s work. Patrick could have been reading Dr. Seuss but with Pete’s name on it, it was Shakespeare. Patrick heard the chords in his mind. He hummed a melody. He closed his eyes and visualized the music on the page.

“I love you, is that okay?” Ethan’s vibrato rang through the woods. The sun was down now and camp fire was starting to crackle and seer. A cacophony of hoots, hollers, and wild applause broke the surface of the silence. Patrick pursed his lips.

“Very good, Ethan! Can’t wait to see what you have in store for the Talent Show,” Craig slapped her on the back like a proud father. She beamed and skipped back to her seat. “Okay. Okay. Who’s next?”

“I’m gonna go,” Patrick began to get up.

“What?!?” Pete grabbed his sleeve and pulled him down. “And do what?”

“This song. I got it down,” Patrick widened his eyes. “Come up and just follow me.”

“You just got it! Come on, sit down. We’ll work it out later,” Pete settled himself.

“No, we are going,” Patrick stood back up and grabbed his guitar. “Hey Craig,” he shouted and started to walk towards the center. “We’ll go.”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s do it!” Craig clapped his hands. “What are you guys gonna do?”

Patrick sat on a stump (haha) near the fire and Pete joined him, with an unfortunate look on his face. He could feel the heat against his face. He pulled his guitar on his lap and adjusted his trucker cap. “We are going to play a song I wrote with the help of a wonderful lyricist, Mr. Peter Wentz.” He turned to his friend. He wanted to embarrass him. He wanted everyone to know how great Pete was.

Pete blushed a deep red and quickly waved a hand at eye level.

“Okay,” Craig smiled at the teamwork. “Take it away.”

Patrick began to play the chords in succession. He watched Pete stare at his fingers and figure out the proper line. He bit his lip as he rocked out. He opened his mouth and let his voice rise above to the skies, “Walking off that stage tonight, I know what you're thinking. "He stands alone because he's high on himself," but if you only knew. I was terrified and would you mind if I sat next to you and watched you smile. So many kids but I only see you
and I don't think you notice me.”

_______________________________________

Pete sat against the rough log, playing bass and listening to his words in motion. Patrick’s voice echoed the meaning against the evergreens and Pete swore he heard it hit the heavens.

The setting was perfect. The song was perfect. Patrick was perfect. Pete shook his head. “Fucking Wentz. Always gotta get your heart caught up in something. No matter what, you just can’t let it settle in your own cavity for awhile,” Pete tried to grimace at his ill wishes but the feelings he had wouldn’t allow him to. He had half of the answer. Patrick was just like him.

But how did he do it? He seemed so easy, so mature, and so confident, yet Pete was shoveling away enough feelings to fuel a train.

“I am not the way, you think I am.” It was true. Felicity had never expected a thing, even after he ran out on her so quickly. No one expected a thing. He was normal. He was just like Patrick. So incognito. He was a leper hiding in the pews.

A round of applause. “Wow,” shouted Craig. “That was awesome. Great lyrics Pete!” Pete waved back politely as Patrick got up. He followed his friend back to their spot.

Patrick’s smirk was unavoidable. “So?”

Pete rolled his eyes, “You were right. It sounded awesome.”

“Now just trust me next time on these things!” Patrick smiled big now.

“You’re a freak of nature. There isn’t anyone out there who can do that,” Pete itched at his chin.

“Many would say the same about you,” Patrick sat down on the log.

Pete could feel his cheeks getting hot. He tried to change the subject. “Hey, are we going to the springs tonight?” He sat down beside Patrick.

Patrick paused and looked surprised by the invitation, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

_______________________________________

Just as Pete had invited, Patrick and him went to the springs that night. A new moon made the stars come alive and the darkness seem like a dense fabric that hung in the distance. The water’s warmed their bodies and their spirits. They were laughing together again. They were young and talented and happy to be alive together.

They dried off and pulled their clothes back on. They walked the long walk back to the cabin. They crept up the steps, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Pete reached into his back pocket. His face broke out in fear. He checked the other one and then the two front pockets. “Uh oh,” his face said everything Patrick needed to know.

“Where’s the key?” Patrick’s voice was impatient for he was also scared.

“It must of fell out of my pocket when I was putting my clothes on,” his face looked distressed. “Aw… I’m sorry, Pat.”

Patrick sighed, “it’s okay. We can get another in the morning, but where are we gonna sleep?”

“Well,” Pete’s eyebrows rose in hopefulness. “I know one place.”

Patrick pursed his lips. He tried to think logically for a second but he was tired and did want to sleep now. “Where’s the ladder?”

Pete smiled. “It’s in the shed behind the counselor’s cabin.”

“You are kidding, right?” Patrick felt his expression crinkle into a sarcastic face.

Pete smiled like a Dennis the Menace.

_______________________________________

“I will never let you live this down,” Patrick whispered as they carried the ladder out of the shed. They crept slowly across the camp ground. Sticks and rocks made noises under their rubber soles. Pete really hoped no one could hear them.

They reached the cabin and set the ladder against the roof. Pete was used to climbing the ladder. He scaled it quickly before helping Patrick make it.

They crawled across the dingy shingles and lay down on their backs. They starred up at the stars. They could have touched them they were so close.

“Wow,” Patrick said randomly. The noise popped through Pete’s ears. “I’ve never done something like this.”

“Like what?” Pete wondered out loud.

“Like watching the stars and not worrying about anything else,” Patrick’s smile was audible.

“It’s called childhood. We got to live it up while we can, man.”

Patrick chuckled, “That is for sure. Life is going by too fast. Moments like these just… take everything out of focus and pause time. You know?”

“Yeah, I sure do,” Pete looked over to Patrick, but he was too concentrated on the stars. “This might be intrusive, but do you think your mom is up there?”

Patrick sighed, “I sure would like to think so. I wish she could see this camp and all the things I’ve learned and you.”

“Me?” Pete continued staring at Patrick. He shifted his weight so he was lying on his side.

“Yeah, she would have liked you. She had a major in creative writing and poetry. She would have loved your words. She was always one to fight for an experience worth living for and make sure it was written down in full detail so everyone could know or remember it. Very Henry David Thoreau of her.” Patrick was smiling as he thought about it.

“Is this experience on the roof worth living for?” Pete questioned a little too soon for him to think it through. He bended his tone to try and make the question sound like a joke.

Patrick turned to him. His blue eyes reflected the universes above and had an honest sheen in them. “Every second I am with you, life is worth living.”

Pete felt the breath get knocked out of him. He couldn’t quite feel his facial muscles. He blinked a couple times and thought those words through.

His recovery was only delayed more when Patrick leaned towards his face and placed his soft lips against Pete’s open mouth. He was forced to regain his composure.

Now his thoughts were moving quickly. He had never done this before with a guy. He felt his muscles tense and his hands gripped the air awkwardly.

He felt Patrick smile into the kiss. He knew his lack of experience, his feeling of shock, his weariness to continue, and every other emotion that was going through his mind. Patrick held Pete’s head in his arm and slid the other one around his neck, gently touching him and trying to relax him.

It worked. Pete was beginning to feel the oil in his gears and grasped Patrick’s wrist on his neck. He liked the feeling of Patrick’s soft skin. It warmed him and eased him enough to deepen the kiss. He took a heavy breath before nibbling Patrick’s top lip open. He slid his tongue in and pressed it against his teeth. This part was tried and true not matter what gender Pete was dealing with.

Patrick’s hands were so warm and Pete’s heart was so happy that he couldn’t help but want to save this memory forever.

Patrick broke away and brought his hands back to himself. He shyed away his
body till he was a good foot away from Pete. His face looked scared and shocked. Pete’s body felt cold without him against it. He could tell that Patrick saw the question in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Pete grimaced, “Why not?”

Patrick awkwardly adjusted himself against the cold shingles, “You are not ready. You just realized that you are… that you like… you know. It’s too soon for you.”

“No offense, but I don’t think you’re in the position to make that decision.”

Patrick sighed, “Well maybe that’s so but… I don’t want you to sleep on the roof without me. I don’t want to confuse you anymore than you have been confusing yourself.”

Pete sighed, “Well, what spurred the confusion you think?”

Pete saw Patrick’s neurons firing behind his eyes, “Well… it was Felicity, right?”

Pete smiled, “What spurred me to bone Felicity?”

Patrick chuckled at the humorous vernacular, “Sex drive? I have no idea.”

Pete sighed again but this time it was a happy sigh, “No. It was… a test.”

Patrick still looked confused.

“Awe come on,” Pete rolled his eyes. “The lyrics! ‘You’re hopelessly hopeful and I’m just hopeless enough.’ I didn’t have any other options. She was a test and I failed miserably.”

Patrick eyes were bright as he realized the hidden truths, “I admit, there was a lot of lines I didn’t catch. That was one of them. What about ‘Joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of best friends’? What was that all about?”

Pete giggled at the fact that Patrick wanted to know, “I would play jokes on myself by contorting my daydreams of… a different lifestyle into sarcastic comments. But it wasn’t funny cause they were my wishes and hopes. One part of me said, ‘oh haha. Yeah right!’ while the other part said, ‘hey don’t joke about my feelings. I’m serious.’”

Patrick’s mind spun, “I… didn’t want to be intrusive. So I didn’t ask.” He pushed his glasses up his nose, “So what about today? I know the ‘knocking boots in the back’ part but what about the chorus?”

Pete bit his lower lip and shook his head, “You’re sharper than I thought. ‘I’m too terrified. Would you mind it if I sat next to you and watched you smile? So many kids but I only see you and I don’t think you notice me.’ Think of the setting. Where were we when I wrote that?”

Patrick though back, At the circle pit surrounded by the other students. “I never thought about it like that.” He giggled to himself. “So are you blaming me for your sleeping on the roof excursion? Or for sleeping with Felicity? Or being born?”

Pete’s eyebrows came together making his forehead crinkle, “No. You were just… the straw that broke the camel’s back. The point where I was realizing that I was not the way I thought I was. Which is a good thing. You are a good thing.”

Patrick lay back down, “Okay so you like me. But I still wonder if you are… at the point of acceptance yet.”

“Patrick, have you ever been with a guy before this?” Pete asked.

“No.”

“And why not?”

Patrick shrugged, “Guess I haven’t found the right one.”

“Okay,” Pete nodded, “Now ask me the same thing.”

Patrick cleared his throat, “Pete, have you ever been with a guy before this?”

“Nope.”

“And why not?”

Pete smiled, “I guess I hadn’t found the right one. Till now.”

Patrick smiled. “I am glad we got each other for cabinmates.”

Pete pursed his lips, “Speaking of. Are we looking for this?” He pulled brass key from his back pocket.

Patrick’s face was shocked, “What?”

Pete laughed, “I was a bad cabinmate. I lied and hid it so we could be here instead.”

Patrick shook his head and grabbed the key out of Pete’s fingers. He got up and walked over to the ladder. “Well, let’s go then?”

Pete walked over and climbed on the ladder, making his way down. “So you’re not mad.”

Patrick began his descent, “I’m not mad, but, man, when my lips get ahold of yours… they are in trouble!”

_______________________________________

Dear Mom,
Love is everywhere. You can taste it in the air. Everything I hoped for is coming true. This camp is the best thing to ever happen to me. I have everything I could ever need here. Tomorrow is the last day of camp and I don’t want to leave. I am so excited for the talent show though. I am singing the first song Pete and I wrote somewhat together; the Summer Song. If we don’t win I don’t know who else can.
Love you,
Pat

_______________________________________

‘Lights out’ meant time to push the beds together in Cabin 170. This time it was Patrick’s bed against Pete’s. Pete watched Patrick get up and shove as hard as possible. The wood against wood screeched and the boys giggled silently at the thought of others hearing them.

Patrick jumped back into the bed and huddled close to Pete. Under the sheets, they let their lips touch almost every inch of skin on their upper halves. But tonight wasn’t like the many they had had since the night on the roof. Pete wasn’t just aiming high. No, No, Tonight he was aiming below the belt. He had contemplated it for awhile now. Was he ready? Patrick surely wouldn’t think so, but how could he judge so cruelly if Pete gave him everything a teenage boy could ask for.

Pete thought the plan over again as Patrick sucked at his neck. He could do this. He had been a victim of it so many times before. Why couldn’t he?

_______________________________________

Pete placed a hand over Patrick’s mouth. His moans were becoming screams of gratification and ecstasy. Patrick’s eyes closed tightly while he finished his moment. He lay back; breaths uneven, body covered in a thin layer of sweat, and look of pure animalistic orgasm on his face.

Pete smiled and removed his hand. He quickly wiped it over his mouth to remove any remnants of the session.

He lay back and watched Patrick regain human intelligence, watched him evolve again.

“I was not expecting that,” Patrick breathed out after awhile.

“I’ve never been known to be predictable,” Pete smiled. “Was that okay?”

Patrick left out a giggle, “It wasn’t okay. It was perfect. What about you? Are you settle on this whole gay thing.”

“You said it,” Pete looked uneasy.

Patrick looked confused before he realized what he said, “Oh, I’m sorry, Pete-”

“-No, you should be saying it. We should have said it from the start. I can’t avoid the vocab anymore. I enjoyed that too much to let words bother me.” The corner of Pete’s mouth turned up.

“I’m so happy for you,” Patrick said as he reached his arm around Pete and pulled him over his chest.

“You deserve a thank you from me. I don’t know what I would have done without you,” Pete relaxed himself against Patrick.

“Anytime you need me, I’ll be here for you,” Patrick stroked his black hair. “Now go to sleep, we got a big day tomorrow.”

Pete’s usual insomnia was cured by the boy whom he had fallen asleep on, whom he had fallen in love with.

_______________________________________

Patrick woke in a frenzy. “Pat! Wake up!”

Was he actually being awoken by Pete?

He opened his eyes and sure enough, his instincts were right.

“Come on. We got to pack all our stuff up and you have to write a new song,” Pete rushed around the room packing his things. All of his notebooks, his hoodies, and his bass.

“New song? I thought we were doing The Summer Song together?” Patrick rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses on the desk.

“No, no. I got new lyrics. Here. Work it out,” Pete tossed him the green spiral.

Patrick set it down. “Let me pack first and then I’ll do it.”

_______________________________________

Patrick was smiling from ear to ear as he hummed the melody over in his brain. He fingered the chords on his guitar and let his fingers ring out all six strings. Pete watched from his bed. There stuff sat in suitcases all around them. The four weeks were coming to an end.

“How’s that?” Patrick looked up at Pete.

“Perfect. How ‘bout the words?” He looked up curiously.

“You have done it again my friend. If we don’t win… well, we will win.” Patrick was so easy to trust. “Why did you pack up your bass?”

“I’m not playing with you,” Pete said aloud, frightful of the reaction.

“What do you mean? We are a team,” Patrick was confused.

“You don’t need me up there. Everyone only wants you anyway and I don’t even want bass to be in this song. All we need is you up there,” Pete smiled and tried to reassure him.

“But what does that mean if we win?” Patrick’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I still am part of the team. I wrote the lyrics. It’s one of my majors. It works.”

Patrick still seemed unconvinced, “But where are you gonna be?”

Pete smiled at him so genuinely, “I’ll be in the front row watching you put my words to music. I’ll always be there for you.”

Patrick’s face relaxed and Pete knew he won.

_______________________________________

“Up next is the four-subject majoring Patrick Stump singing a song he wrote with help of Peter Wentz, this year’s top lyricist at camp,” Craig over emphasized the boys to establish ethos with the audience of parents.

The parents clapped politely. Pete’s mother squeezed his hand as they both sat in the front seat of the makeshift stage and seating arrangement. Pete was happy to let his mom see everything he had done.

“Hi, everyone. I’m Patrick and Pete is sitting in the front row. Stand up, Pete.”

Pete complied and stood for the crowd. A couple of yells from the students echoed through the forest. He sat back down giving his attention to Patrick.

“I would like to dedicate this song to my own mother because she taught me everything I should know about love,” Patrick smiled and wrapped his hands around his acoustic guitar. He began to slash the pick down the strings and the ever-present lip biting had begun. Pete swore he heard the whole audience gasp when Patrick opened his mouth.

“ why can you read me like no one else?
I hide behind these words
but I'm coming out
I wish I kept them behind my tongue
I hide behind these words
but I'm coming out

put your hand between
an aching head and an aching world
we'll make them so jealous
we'll make them hate us
an aching head and an aching world
we'll make them so jealous
we'll make them so jealous

always you make my stomach turn
and all the long drives
with my friends blur
and I wish I kept them inside my mind
I hide behind these words

and think of all the places
where you've been lost
and then found...out
in between my sheets
in between the rights and the wrongs

put your hand between
an aching head and an aching world
we'll make them so jealous
we'll make them hate us
aching head and an aching world
think of all the places
where you've been lost and found out.

He struck the last chord and the crowd erupted with applause. Pete’s mother stood up and clapped, tears rolling down her face.

Patrick bowed and moved down stage towards Pete. He lended him a hand and pulled him onstage, next to him. Where he belonged. Patrick slung an arm around him and the crowd continued to cheer.

_______________________________________

“You boys were wonderful! No wonder you won first place! But, Patrick, I must ask; how did you do that?” Pete’s mom pushed Patrick’s shoulder after the talent show was over and they were standing around greeting all the parents.

“Do what, Ms. Wentz?” Patrick grinned at her charm and finally realized it must have been genetic.

“How did you get my boy to write something about love? I didn’t even know he knew what it meant!” she laughed.

Patrick and Pete laughed to but for different reasons.

“Oh, it wasn’t easy, but I coaxed it out of him eventually. He’s got a heart of gold,” Patrick smiled in Pete’s direction before turning back to Ms. Wentz.

“Hey, Pat!” Patrick saw his dad zig-zag through the crowd until he reached them. He immediately ducked down to give his son a hug. “Pat! That was amazing! I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, dad,” Patrick pulled away from the loving embrace. “Dad, I’d like you to meet my cabin mate and partner in crime, Pete Wentz, and his lovely mother.”

“So nice to meet you, Pete… Ms. Wentz!” Mr. Stump shook both their hands. He stopped at Ms. Wentz’s hands though adding a “Your son it really something else. What a talent!”

Pete’s mom chuckled politely and responded, “Oh, don’t get me started on yours!”

The two adults laughed and Pete and Patrick starred at each other awkwardly.

“Hey, Mom? We are gonna go get our bags from our cabin. We’ll meet you back here in five minutes.”

_______________________________________

“Well, that’s the last of it,” Patrick said, piling his guitar case onto his suitcase.

“I guess so,” Pete said as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“So, what’s gonna happen after today?” Patrick sat down on his bed, stripped of its sheets so that the plastic coating made a nice crunch beneath him.

“Well, I was planning to use first place money as gas money. I can come visit you on the weekends when we don’t have school,” Pete sat beside him.

“So this is real. This whole band camp thing. It’s not just in my mind?” His blue eyes were full of vulnerability and trust at the same time.

“This is as real as it gets,” Pete smiled and leaned in towards Patrick, kissing him gently.

Patrick kissed him back, but pulled away before it got more intense. “Pete, we got to go. The parents await.”

“One more time,” Pete smiled and kissed him. All of his love was forced through with the powerful message.

Patrick complied for awhile before pulling back, “save it for next weekend.”

Pete smiled and got up. He dragged his things down the wooden steps. Patrick followed they made it to the front of the cabin when they looked back.

“Goodbye 170,” Patrick waved. Pete joined in and they continued walking.

They met their parents out in front. Their cars were parked down the hill and their parents went down to pack their luggage and get the cars. It was time for them to part.

“I guess this is the end?” Patrick whispered to him so only he could hear.

“No, this is the beginning,” Pete smiled. Patrick’s car pulled up alongside them and Mr. Stump honked it at Patrick.

“You’re right. I’ll see you next week… pal.” Patrick smiled so sincerely that Pete couldn’t help but make his own smile so large it hurt.

“Of course… buddy,” Pete wrapped his arms around him in a parent-friendly embrace. He didn’t want to let go.

“I got to go,” Patrick whispered so soft that it tickled Pete’s ear. “I love you.”

Pete felt a warmth wash over him with an unexplainable current, “I love you.”

Patrick pulled away and got into the passenger seat of his dad’s car. It began to pull away and down the hill. They kept their amorous eyes on each other until they couldn’t anymore.

A tear dripped out of Pete’s eye. It wasn’t a tear bred from fear or grief, but rather of feeling in his gut that told him he would never be sad again.