My Imagination's Much Worse

Pete and I hadn't talked in three days. I tried calling both his cell and parent's house but got no response. His own parents lied for him by saying he'd be sleeping or out with friends. I knew he wasn't out with his friends because I was with them. I talked to them and none of them had talked to him as well.

I was watching a small band play in a packed club with Chris by my side. The club smelled of sweat and cigarettes. Chris yelled over the music to me every so often about how much the band kinda sucked and kept saying we'd leave soon. I felt a body press against me and a chin rest on my shoulders. Pete. I turned around and looked at him. Chris looked at him shocked that he was actually here.

"What are you doing here?" I asked with little emotion.

"Me and Joe heard there was a show going on and I wanted to get out of the house," Pete said.

"So you can leave the house to see a shit band but you can't come see me, let alone call me? You make so much sense." Chris cleared his throat to help cut some tension that was between the two of us.

"Can we go talk in my car?" Pete asked with pleading eyes.

"Sure. I'll be right back," I told Chris before following Pete outside.

We walked 2 blocks to his car and sat inside. He turned the ignition slightly so that the heat would keep us warm and so that we wouldn't sit in an awkward silence. I looked down at my hands that sat in my lap.

"I'm sorry about the other night," Pete said quietly.

"I know you are. You're always sorry for the shit you say and do but I don't think you mean it most of the time," I said, finally looking up at him.

"Trust me, Love, it hurts me more than it hurts you."

He hummed along to the dumb song on the radio and held my hands. I kept asking myself in my head why I was still with him, why I still put up with his but it's these types of things that make me stay. We always say that we're meant for each other because our hands fit perfectly with each other's.

I leaned my forehead against his as "Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls came on the radio. We stared into each other's eyes that sat centimeters from each other. Our lips touched softly, our hands on the side each other's heads.

"Promise me that you'll be my wife someday and we'll dance to this at our wedding," he said as we pulled away.

"I promise," I whispered against his lips.

His thumb rubbed my cheek for the rest of the song. Our eyes didn't leave each other's. The moment truly did feel infinite. It ended though when a loud thunk came from the passenger's side window. I looked over to see Joe and Chris standing outside the car with asshole smiles plastered across their faces. Pete sighed and unlocked the doors.

"Let's go get food!" Chris said loudly as him and Joe got in the backseat.

"Hot Doug's?" Pete asked as he checked behind his shoulder to leave the curb.

"You read my mind," Chris replied.

We got food and chilled for an hour or two. Pete dropped our friends off at their houses before going back to my apartment.

"Can I spend the night?" He asked, kicking off his shoes.

"Why would you even ask?" I laughed and began changing into night clothes.

Pete laid in my bed next to me and wrapped his arm around me as he rolled onto his side. I nuzzled my face in the crook of his neck. I traced the tattoo on his chest and heard him gulp and his breathing get heavy.

"Even your fingertips against my skin is enough to drive me crazy and relax me all at the same time," he said quietly. "It's like all these sparks in my stomach explode and the fire spreads to my skin."

"The more you talk, the more you confuse me," I whispered back. "But I know exactly what you mean."