Take This to Your Grave

The week with Pete was nice; he and I spent the majority of the time watching movies or hanging out with our friends. But, still, there was something about Pete that I couldn't put my finger on; he would fall into this quiet moment and then return to normal, it confused me. I tried not to bother him about it, but I did make sure that I told him that I loved him and that I never blamed him for anything.

We couldn't go to shows, because Pete was banned from the VFW and that was the only place that let bands perform on the weekends. So, when the weekend came, we went to the movies or we drove to the park and sat on the hood to look at the stars. We took a bunch of pictures of each other with cheap throw away cameras. It was a lot more fun than going to shows.

But the fun didn't last...

When my dad and Amy returned, the first thing my dad had said was: "We need a bigger house."

Amy had told him she was pregnant, and my dad -as she says the first thing he said out loud- was that we needed to get a bigger house without stairs. I had offered to move out, sneakily say it, but my dad had given me a look; "Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because, you're 17."

I didn't budge, I decided to just let my dad think about it before I asked again.

So, the hunt was on to find a bigger house for us. I was happy for Amy and my dad, but still, I was extremely envious of her. She was only 3 months along, you couldn't tell, but the very thought made me feel sorry for myself. I think that was another reason as to why I wanted to move out. I'd be so jealous of Amy, I just knew it, because I could've easily been in her shoes.

I didn't want to hear about baby stuff and watch her build a nursery. I didn't want to see ultrasounds or hear names they'd pick out. Jealousy was eating away at me and I managed to stay out with Pete long enough to keep from hearing about her baby.

So, when I was Pete, I filmed him and the new band. They practiced a lot, Pete, Joe, Patrick and their friends TJ worked on the new nameless band. Patrick was great on the drums, but, to our surprise, he could sing.

He wanted the band to read his lyrics; when he sang them, no one actually paid attention to the words, they liked his voice. Pete hummed, "Yeah, these lyrics suck, but you can sing."

"Pete, don't be mean!" I scolded him.

Patrick laughed while Pete just shrugged at my words, "It's okay."

"Like I said, you can sing."

And that was that. Pete told him he couldn't be the drummer because he had to be the singer. They recruited a friend of theirs; Ben, to play with them. The first time they played was at a friend's house; to be quite honest, they sounded like a Green Day cover band; it didn't seem like Pete's type of band, but I liked it. They were all in the groove together, always practicing until they could find a place to perform to kids that couldn't make it to house parties.

No one wanted to let them perform at their clubs because of Pete's reputation. So, when school began, he hadn't really put that much effort into music like he used to. And, even as our wounds healed, there was something hurt in Pete that I wasn't sure of; his insomnia was back, and he always over at my house trying to fall asleep; he even switched to DePaul with me so he didn't have to take a train to Columbia every other day.

Things just got so hectic for us; my dad and Amy had finally found a place, Pete was in this depression spell that I didn't know how to awake him from and I was trying not to go crazy myself. I slept alright, but I worried about Pete like crazy. Then September 11th happened and I thought maybe it was the end of the world; Pete wouldn't leave my side and my worries escalated when I couldn't contact my mom. That entire month was a blur of worry and fear. I wasn't sure if I could handle the world any longer, but at the same time, I couldn't think that way, because I had to look out for Pete.

In October Pete moved back home to his parents, just as we were moving two streets away. His sleep deprivation had me going over and spending the night, and helping with his homework and headaches. I felt weary as to what I wanted to do or how long I would even be on earth. Death has just a way of closing in on you in the worst way.

I spent most of my time at his desk, finishing up work while he lay on his bed, muttering to himself. I had decided to stay with him, to keep him busy and stay out of my dad and Amy's way. I figured that the less time I spent with them, the more they'd see that I didn't need to live with them. What I really wanted to do was take care of Pete first and then get back to whatever the hell I was doing before.

I swerved around in the desk chair and looked at him; he stopped muttering and was snoring now. I got up and shook him a bit, "Pete, get under the covers."

He groaned, brow furrowed tired and angrily, "No."

"You'll get cold."

He sighed and maneuvered around the blankets, kicking them under his legs and and then over himself. He mumbled incoherently and tugged a pillow beneath his head. I returned to the desk to finish my work; I had class the next afternoon.

"Naomi, c'mere." He murmured.

"I've gotta finish my work, Pete." I told him softly.

"Please?"

I bit back an annoyed groan and got back up; I went to the bed and crawled under the covers with him. He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his forehead to mine, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." I yawned softly.

It always ended up this way; him begging me to sleep in bed with him when he knew I had work to do. Still, I never fought it, I did as he wanted. It was the least I could do.

At school, I was still at a loss as to what exactly I wanted to do. I had wanted to teach, but since I had lost the baby, I didn't think I wanted to do it. I wasn't sure if I would be capable of being around kids without thinking of the "what-ifs". Everyday I thought about it, and I thought about Pete beating up on Eric and Mike, and why these things happened. This all made me rethink a lot of things over, so I was in limbo.

Pete was becoming disenchanted with school and everything else. It was the depression, and the realization that he could barely function at a normal level with pills. I tried to help him, but everything I had said and done went in one ear and out the other. It's hard to fight someone else's battles when there's a war going on in your own kingdom. Pete only wrote, he didn't have a job, he barely made it to class; all he did was lie in his bed or in mine. I was worried, but what could I do?

There's only so much you can say to a depressed man. I felt helpless, things weren't going as I had wanted them to. The two of us were in a rut of anger, depression and pity; it was all really sad. We felt like all we had was each other, because we knew each other's secrets and why we were the way we were. Pete was Pete and I was me; we were two people at the bottom.

I finally realized, when I wasn't with Pete, that us moving in together would not help at all. I didn't tell him, and I never made any further motivation to leave the new house. I stayed out of Amy's way, as she was growing bigger and her skin seemed to glow; I was jealous of her.

I mean, it was like she had it all, and I had nothing. It was hard not snapping at her; she just seemed to irk my nerves. Jealousy isn't cute and it's a harsh thing to deal with.

In November, it was extremely hard to ignore her; she had the nursery up, and we learned she would be having a little girl. I was happy for her, but still envious; I kept my mouth shut. And, by this time, Pete was coming around; he and the band finally got to play at the Metro, and had done one successful show, but without a name.

The second show, which I missed because I had fallen asleep from early classes, he told me they finally got a name. Joe had asked the crowd what they should be called and someone said "Fallout Boy."

He had crawled through the window of the new house and hopped on my bed. I had my language book in my lap and looked at him as he flopped on my bed and asked, "What's a Fallout Boy?"

His jaw slacked, "You've never seen the Simpsons before?"

"Not since I was 10."

"Fallout Boy is Radioactive Man's sidekick."

I had raised a brow, "Okay, so, you guys are the Fallout Boys?"

Pete laughed and grabbed my note book, "No," he began to write it; "We're Fall Out Boy."

I blinked, "Oh."

"Do you like it?"

His eyes sparkled and he seemed so enthralled with the whole thing, I could only say; "Yes. It's awesome."

Pete had pulled me into a hug and then kissed me, "I have a good feeling about this, Naomi."

I had never seen him so ambitious before, "You do?"

He had nodded, "Yeah, I mean...Arma Angelus never made me feel this excited before."

I smiled at him, "Well, I'm happy for you, Peter."

"I think this'll be my ticket to free pizza for life."

The smile on his face made my heart swell, "If that's what you want. Free pizza."

He nodded happily, "It'll feed us for the rest of our lives."

I had rolled my eyes at him and kissed his lips, "You're gonna live the dream, Pete."

He rolled onto his back and took my book from me, "Live it with me?"

I scoffed, "I think I have to."

"Good, I don't think I'd want it any other way."

I had thought that this would be the up Pete needed; a new band that fueled something in him. I was proud of him and was happy that he was happy with his new band; Fall Out Boy. I thought that this was a turning point and that things wouldn't be bad for awhile.

And, things were good, until Amy had her baby in January. It wasn't a big catastrophic happening, I just didn't want to stay in the house with them, because I had that jealous feeling inside. My dad hadn't really noticed how distant I was until I told him that I needed my own space.

"What kind of space?"

He had asked this just days before Amy had given birth.

"I want to be in my own place without interruption." I had excused, "I have to study and I have some money saved up from those modeling jobs."

"You want to move out?" He had questioned me with a small frown.

"Yes. Pete and I can get an apartment near DePaul and finish school."

I was surprised by him nodding slowly, "Okay. If that's what you want."

"Really?"

He hummed, "Yeah, I can help you."

So, just a day before Amy gave birth to my baby sister, Pete and I found an apartment near the school. It was small and affordable, and our parents seemed to encourage this. We needed each other, in a way, to survive and Mr. and Mrs. Wentz knew it, so they were the most forthcoming.

Pete had started to move his things in when I went to the hospital to see Amy and my dad. I was extremely hesitant, but I went into the recovery room anyway; my heart caught in my throat when I saw and heard the baby.

"Hey," my dad had smiled at me; Amy was sitting up, cradling a pink bundle in her arms, "Want to see the baby?"

I went over, my head tilting to see her. She was pink in the face and had looked exactly like Amy; "Whoa. What's her name?"

"Abigail Lisa," Amy said, "Your dad's callin' her Abbey."

I smiled, and I finally let all my resentment and jealousy melt away. She was such a cute baby, "She's so pretty."

"I think she kind of looks like you," Amy told me.

"She looks like you." I chuckled a bit, "I can't believe I have a baby sister...well, another one."

"She's gonna love you, ya'know." Amy handed her to me, "Hold her."

I felt nervous about it, but it came naturally. I held little Abbey and looked her over; she was awake and finally looking at me; her eyes were hazel and large. She seemed so at peace and I instantly fell in love with her, "Hey there." I talked to her.

"Lee," Amy nudged my dad, "Take pictures."

I blushed as soon as my dad whipped out his new digital camera and took pictures of myself holding Abbey. I focused on her, trying to hide away how embarrassed I felt about the pictures. I probably wouldn't mind later, but right then, I wasn't sure if pictures of myself with a baby would ever hurt me later on.

But, this was a better substitute than me with my own child.

I handed Abbey back to Amy and talked for a bit before leaving. When I was alone, my heart broke at the thought of my own baby being gone. They would've been due soon and I would experience what Amy was experiencing. It just wasn't meant to be, and that's all I tried to tell myself so I wouldn't cry.

I returned to the apartment, where Pete was lying on the carpeted floor; he wasn't doing anything. I smiled and went over and sat beside him, "Hey."

He looked at me, "Hey yourself. How's the baby?"

"She's cute...they named her Abbey and she looks just like Amy."

"Are you okay?" He asked knowingly.

I nodded, "A little...ya'know, our baby would be born around this time, too."

Pete pulled me over to lie beside him, "I know...I'm sorry."

I rested my cheek against his chest, "Me too."

He sighed, "After all this school stuff we can have our own kid."

I looked at him, "Hmm, still not sure if I'm gonna marry you."

He laughed, "You will."

I smiled, shaking my head; we both knew it would happen soon. No need to fight it.