Trace Your Shadows

THEN

Just like that, they had managed to click into each other’s lives like they’d always been there. Fiona found it hard to recall how she’d been before the influence of Pete Wentz, and as time went on, she found herself caring less and less, focusing rather on the person she was becoming. As if on some sort of unspoken agreement, their friendship stayed mostly behind the scenes, and it wasn’t like they were actively trying to hide it, more like they just met at times and in places where no one would know or ever see.

Pete had instantly picked up on Fiona’s worry about her father finding out and had assured her he understood. He knew how he was seen around town, knew the whispers and the reputation he held, and he didn’t blame people like Tom Harris for wanting to keep their daughters locked up and staying far away from him. There was also Lex in this equation, of course Fiona wanted to tell her friend all about Pete and explain that he was part of the reason she was so distant but at the same time she wanted to keep Pete all to herself, like some dirty secret she couldn’t bear to part with.

So instead, they had let themselves fall into a world where it was just them. Days could pass where they wouldn’t see each other and yet, Fiona thought about him each and every day. Sometimes he’d follow her out when she went out for a run and they’d end up walking and chatting and other times, he’d resort to climbing in through her bedroom window when the coast was clear.

Fiona was getting everything she’d hoped for, to peek behind the curtain and see the makings of the boy who intrigued her so much. Through all those private meetings and secret moments, she learned a lot about what made Pete tick. From his favorite bands to his weird sense of humor, to the way his dimples showed when he smiled hard enough and how he didn’t like to showcase it, but he was a big reader and an even bigger writer. And although Fiona loved learning all these things, she often found herself getting the feeling he was revealing this information in an attempt to bait her away from the questions she really wanted to ask, the concerns that still plagued on her mind.

So she decided she’d let Pete hide long enough, and she asked him what she’d waited weeks to know. “Hey Pete? How’s your therapy going?”

Pete, who’d been sitting on Fiona’s floor rifling through her (poorly lacking) music collection, went very still. “What?”

Fiona rolled her eyes at this. “Don’t play games, Peter. It’s okay that you go, you know. I think it’s good. You don’t have to tell me about it, of course, I was just wondering if you even still went.”

“You’re awfully nosy, you know that?” Pete countered, narrowing his eyes over at Fiona who grinned.

“That’s what you like about me,” she responded and Pete really couldn’t argue.

“You’re the one who calls me creepy yet you know I go to therapy? That’s serious stalker status,” Pete grumbled, messily re-stacking Fiona’s CDs which he’d previously been making fun of her for before throwing himself next to her on the bed, stretching out lazily beside her.

“Hate to break this to ya, but your house is meters from mine. Everything you’ve ever argued about with your family, I’ve heard.”

Pete groaned, covering his face with hands. “Christ, I hate to think what you know about us. Does it bother you?”

Fiona shook her head. “Nah, we generally just turn a deaf ear to it. I mean, all families have disagreements, right?”

“Yeah, about who left the muddy footprints in the hall or had the last of the milk, not whether their son needs to see a shrink because he might be a fucking lunatic,” Pete mumbled. “I hate it Fi, I hate going. Why can’t you be my therapist? I like talking to you.”

“It might have something to do with the fact that I’m not qualified,” Fiona joked lightly, rewarded with the sight of Pete smiling for all her efforts. “What makes you not like it? The talking about your feelings part, or the talking to someone who you’re not sure gets it?”

“Both, neither, all of it. It’s messed up, this guy making money off my crazy. That’s not right,” Pete explained, huffing angrily at the thought before giving a little sigh. “I just, I don’t want to have to explain myself. Especially to someone who doesn’t even care, he’s just there because he’s picking up a pay check for pretending to listen. I could tell him I tried to kill myself because my brother’s goldfish told me too, and he wouldn’t even bat an eyelid because he expects me to be completely unstable. If I have to talk to anyone about this, I want it to be someone who actually gives a damn. Not some dumbass with a phony degree.”

“Calm down, Caulfield,” Fiona answered, moving closer to tap Pete’s cheek lightly as he smiled. “Well, there’s always me, you know. I give a damn, and I don’t have a phony degree to my name. You know, ever since we’ve started talking, properly started talking, you’ve stopped talking to me about this stuff. I can’t help but to think you’re trying to hide it now so you won’t scare me off.”

“Shit, you’re fucking good, you know that? Too damn smart for a kid your age,” Pete mumbled, ignoring the noise of protest Fiona makes at being addressed as a kid. “I like you, Fi. You get me, and even when you don’t, you still understand me and accept me and that’s so rare to find in a person. I don’t want you to realise how messed up I really am and disappear, you know?”

“You’re a moron if you think that. If you didn’t scare me off when we first met, what makes you think I’m going anywhere now? It feels like I’ve known you a lifetime and I feel like you could tell me anything and it wouldn’t matter, I wouldn’t think any different of you.”

“Too young to be so wise,” Pete murmured through a lazy smile. “If you wanted to know, I haven’t thought about repeating my previous ‘accident’. Not that I really could, my mom’s dolling out my medication like a freaking prison warden but even then. I’m not, like, pushed to the brink as much anymore.”

“That’s great to hear, Pete,” Fiona answered honestly. “I’m happy to hear that.”

Pete looked wary at this. “Don’t… don’t think it’ll always be this way though. Sometimes I have bad days, the worst days imaginable and although I haven’t had one since before that day, they’ll come again and maybe I will wanna just end it. These days come in waves and come on so strong that I will do anything to get away. I want you to be prepared for the days I can’t stand the sight of anyone, even you. I’m okay now, but I’m not always, okay?”

“A part of being friends with someone is seeing them at every angle and perspective and having that not change anything,” Fiona reminded him gently. “I think I can handle that, and like I said, I’m not going anywhere.”

“As long as you’re aware,” Pete said airily, reaching out to tug on a piece of Fiona’s hair cheekily. “Anyway, I’m gonna get outta here, got some band stuff to take care of. Which reminds me, I brought you over this.”

Pete handed over CD case which Fiona took cautiously, turning it over to read Arma Angelus written in scratchy writing on the front cover and nothing else. When Fiona looked back up at Pete, he was grinning sheepishly.

“I know you weren’t a huge fan, but I thought maybe you could have a copy anyway,” he told her nonchalantly, giving a little half shrug.

“Is this because you’ve got a whole garage piled with these and you’re trying to get rid of them?” Fiona asked with a playful smirk, and Pete reached out to give her a light shove.

“Watch it, Fi,” he answered but he gave her one last smile before disappearing out her window and back to his place.

Fiona waited until she saw Pete leave his house again before she got up to place the Arma Angelus CD into the player, turning the volume on low before laying back down where Pete had been minutes before. Even without the hearing loss for experiencing it in person, the music still wasn’t something Fiona would honestly say she enjoyed listening to yet she listened to the entire CD three times through and realized that she was hung up on Pete in the most peculiar way.

“This won’t end well,” she told herself, but knew she wouldn't do a thing to stop it.