Take This to Your Grave

It was mid afternoon when Pete appeared on my porch while I was getting mail. I had nearly flew off the curb when I saw him, but rolled my eyes, mostly at myself. I jogged up the porch and saw the light bruise at the corner of his mouth. He smiled at me and I at him; "I'm not sorry."

Pete chuckled, "I'm fine. My mom thinks I got into a fight."

I opened the door, Pete following in behind me; I put the mail into the table across from the door. He shut the door, "What did you tell her?"

"Told her I fell." He answered. "What'd you tell your dad?"

"I told him I got overzealous watching Risky Business."

He chuckled, "Good one."

"What brings you over?" I asked as he followed me to the kitchen. "I'm sort of grounded and I'm obeying my dad's orders."

"What're you grounded for?" He began to raid my fridge as I grabbed peanut butter and jelly from the cabinet.

"I didn't leave a note when I left yesterday. But, he knows I've got friends now. Not you." I added.

Pete had two bottles of strawberry pop and set them on the counter and pushed over the bread to me. "I want one."

"Of course." I muttered sarcastically. "So, you gonna tell me why you're here?"

"Just came to see you and show you the damage." He smiled at me, cheekily. "And, the Jungle Book is on the Disney Channel."

I laughed, shaking my head as I began to make our sandwiches. "Great. Thanks. I like the Jungle Book...it's not my favorite, but I like it."

"The Nightmare Before Christmas is coming on after." He added as he hopped onto the counter.

"Did you read the TV guide or somethin'?"

He nodded, "TV's all I got while everyone is working."

"I should get a job." I said to myself.

"You have one," he began with a teasing smile, "Walking my mom's dog and entertaining me."

"Full time job entertainin' you." I finished up his sandwich.

"Cut the crust." He told me.

I scoffed, "I'm not your mom."

He batted his lashes at me, "Please, Navy?"

I rolled my eyes, "Fine. Go turn the TV on, jerk-off, I'll be there in a minute."

Pete hopped off the counter, grabbed the bottles and, without warning, kissed my cheek and went off. My brows had shot up and I nearly dropped the knife. I shut my eyes a moment, my face growing hot, and was happy to see Pete was out of sight. I bit down on my bottom lip, holding back a grin.

I managed to stop myself from squealing and hopping around to finished up and went to the living room. Pete was sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, and flipping the channels until he got to the Jungle Book. Again, I bit my lip and sat down beside him, sliding the plate to him, "Crust is gone."

He smiled at me, "Thanks, Navy."

"You're welcome, Peter." I set my plate on my lap, watching the TV, trying not to look at him. I was becoming overcome with tangible feelings of deep love for Pete.

I wasn't in love with him, I just loved liking him. I sure do love everything about him, despite how much of a jerk he was sometimes. I even loved how much he was a jerk, less of the time. It's insanely hard not to like Pete, how could I not like him? He makes it very hard.

I managed to keep my eyes on the TV and not on Pete for the rest of the movie. Once NBC started, we were both engrossed, singing along under our breath. I caught him singing, smiling to myself, "You really do love this movie, don't you?"

Pete nodded, "Have you seen my arm?"

"That's why I asked. Why do you like it?"

"I just do. What's your favorite movie?"

"Reservoir Dogs."

Pete scoffed at me, "Reservoir Dogs?"

"I have a crush on Tim Roth. I'm gonna marry him one day."

He rolled his eyes this time, "You'd have more chance at marrying me than Tim Roth."

"Stranger things have happened, Peter." I chugged the rest of my pop. "And Tim Roth is hot, you aren't."

Pete shot a look at me, "Oh, really?"

"Yes really." I smirked at him.

Pete looked forward and laughed, "How much do you wanna bet you'd marry me before Tim Roth?"

"I'd probably marry someone else before Tim Roth. I have other crushes."

He looked at me again, "Bet?"

"To marry you?" He nodded, "I have to want to marry you, dude."

"Yeah. Bet."

"$5."

He held out his hand, "Shake."

I shook his hand, "You'll owe me $5 at my wedding."

"You'll owe me $5 at our wedding, Navy."

"We shall see."

"We shall." He chuckled.

I bit at the inside of my lip, shaking my head. Like I would ever marry Pete.


Slowly, as the weeks wore on, I was becoming into a comfortable routine with my friends; the few that I had gained. My dad had met Babette a couple of weeks after, and then he met Kate. He had approved of them, saying I needed to hang out with more women. They had kept Pete out of all conversations when my dad was around, though I was usually out with them, so my dad was rarely ever around. One thing that Babette kept me from was shows; she did accompany me and Kate to some, not ones with Leah around.

I did get to see Arma Angelus a couple of weeks after the whole mess, and was happy to see that Leah was nowhere in sight. We all hung out and then we went to eat before I went to Kate's to sleepover. I slept over hers a lot over the summer; I saw Babe and Pete a lot, too; it was the most fun I had, had in Chicago.

A few times, Pete and I would go out to see some movie or to a record store. During the end of the summer I was falling harder for Pete, and it was getting harder to be around him. Leah was always around and my heart would jump into my throat whenever I saw him.

I had told this to Babette and she had frowned slightly. My friend then said she was worried about this; "You like him." She told me.

"Yeah, I know." I replied.

"No," she shook her head at me, "I think you may be in love with Pete."

I blinked rapidly, "In love? You think so?" I asked her this dumbly; I was dumb about it all.

"Maybe," she said pointedly. "I'm not sure."

"This is bad, isn't it?" I mumbled.

"No." She smiled at me, "Not that bad, it's kind of cute."

"Cute from my end." I giggled.

"Yeah, Pete's the kinda part." B patted my back, "Don't worry. We all fall for big idiots. Most of the time, it's worth it."

"Would it ever be worth it?"

Babette shrugged, "Perhaps, Naomi. You never know."

"Wish I did."