Truant Wave

After taking a nap for a few hours, Allie and Patrick caught a cab to her neighborhood to collect her things. Allie told the driver to stop a block away, and Patrick paid, before they climbed out. Patrick followed Allie up the block to her home; she grabbed a cigarette from the breast pocket of the button up, then the lighter from the sweatpants Patrick have her, and lit it. She was nervous, Patrick could see, her hands shook as she smoked, taking a deep drag and then expelling a cloud away from Patrick's face.

They didn't really talk as they got towards her home; Patrick took her hand, he couldn't take seeing her so jittery. Allie looked at him, unsure of what to make of the gesture. Her hands stopped shaking, causing butterflies and a calming and warm sensation fill her body.

She didn't say a word once they got up to her home. She saw both of her parents's cars in the drive way; she hesitated for a moment. She looked at Patrick, "I...I'm gonna run in."

"Are you sure?" He asked her, her hands started to shake in his grasp, "I could do in with you."

Allie shook her head, tossing her cigarette, "N-no...I'll be quick," she let go of his hand reluctantly.

He exhaled, watching her slowly make her way up the pathway to the front door. Patrick sat at the curb, still looking at the door, even after Allie disappeared inside. Inside, she heard her mom playing loud music, her straining voice sang along. Allie rushed up the stairs, to her bedroom and went in. She pressed her back against the door and sighed deeply.

Everything was just as she left it, causing a wave of sadness and nausea to wash over her. On her desk, her last note was still there. She didn't know if she even believed those words anymore because as of now, her head was calmed.

Patrick waited, his eyes looking down at the street now; he wondered if Allie was okay, he heard the music, and wished he had gone in with her. He kept still though, until he heard yelling and then the music stop.

Everything in his senses told him to hurry and get into the house. His feet couldn't move fast enough, he thought as he rushed through the door. It was then he heard a harsh man's voice and Allie's tight feminine voice yelling back. Patrick looked around the front of the home, it was clean; the voices shouted, then he looked up the stairs to his right, and saw them at the top of the stairs. A big, burly man was holding the collar of the button of Allie wore, ripping the collar and then pushed her down the stairs.

Patrick ran up the stairs, catching her before she landed face first at the bottom of the staircase. Allie had let out a loud yelp and her tear stained face met his as he helped her up. She had a bag slung over her arm, she looked at him with an embarrassed look and puckered bottom lip.

"Get me out of here," she pleaded softly, eyes brimming with more tears.

Patrick helped her out the door, ignoring everything her father was yelling. He helped her up and led her outside, and down the pathway. They didn't speak as they continued down the sidewalk, Allie walked slowly beside him, sniffling.

"Still think I shouldn't kill myself?" She whispered

Patrick looked at her, his heart pounding as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "Yes."


When they got back to the hotel room, they remained silent. Patrick was dying to comfort her, but Allie seemed detached. She hated that she was ignoring him, but she was embarrassed and she was regretting a lot of things in the moment.

She had taken another shower and came out. He was sitting at the table, writing something down in a notebook, his mind was doubling over, flooding with thoughts. Allie smiled at his hunched shoulders and went to her clothes; she hadn't been able to get much, but it was enough.

"What are you good at?" Patrick asked her, his back still turned to her, to give her privacy.

"Nothing," Allie said, "I've never been skillful," she quickly put on her underwear and an oversized shirt to sleep in. It was only the afternoon, but Allie's shoulders ached and her neck was pinched.

"I was thinking," Patrick turned to face her, knowing she was at the most, slightly decent, "maybe you could work with me..."

Allie raised her brows as she pulled pajama shorts on, "Work with you?"

He shrugged, "I don't know...I've been thinking...I can't leave you here."

Allie gave him a small smile, "Patrick, that's very sweet of you to think of me, but I...I just want to enjoy this week. It's not everyday you meet someone who sweeps you off your feet."

He exhaled softly, "Yeah. I understand."

Allie kept the smile and laid out on the bed. Something inside Patrick made him go over and lie next to her. The two stared at each other, knowing what would happen next. It was inevitable, and they liked it. They couldn't help the connection to one another.

When Patrick kissed her, it was as if his entire body grew tingly. His cheek grew red, his blood rushed...he hadn't ever felt this way before, it excited him. He wondered if she felt the same.

Allie did, and this scared her. She never felt intimate with a man before. She had, had sex before, but there was no passion until now. Even if she was scared, she didn't want it to stop.

Patrick pulled away and instinctively rolled over on top of her. His murky blue eyes met her hazel ones, unsure and anticipating something bigger. He exhaled heavily and licked his lips. He kept his weight leaned on one side to keep Allie comfortable, though he wasn't sure if they would do anything. He wanted to...so did she.

"Are we...should we?" Allie spoke huskily, her heart pounding excitedly, aggressively.

Patrick didn't want to shrug, "Whatever you want."

Allie brought her hands up his back and towards the back of his head, "I want to."