Friends in Unexpected Places
Chapter 1
“Hey, it’s Patrick ‘loser’ Stump!”
Patrick groaned and tried to make himself smaller (which wouldn’t be difficult as he was already small), hiding his head behind his locker door. He didn’t need to look to know who called him. Beckett and his gang always picked on him every time they saw him.
“What’s wrong, Stump, trying to hide from us?” Beckett laughed, getting closer to the kid and slamming the locker door shut.
The other boys rounded Patrick, preventing him from escaping.
“What do you want, Beckett?” he said, trying to sound threatening, but his voice was shaking.
The long-haired jock smiled mischievously, and he spoke in mock sweetness. “What do you mean, Patrick? We’re just talking!”
The other students stopped around them, watching the scene. Patrick blushed, embarrassed.
“Just let me go, Beckett, I’m not in the mood to put up with your shit.” he said, getting away from the lockers and walking away.
Beckett looked at his friends, with an expression that said “are you seeing this shit?” and grabbed Patrick’s arm, violently pushing him against the lockers.
Patrick’s head hit the lockers, and he groaned. Damn, that’ll surely leave a bruise.
Beckett leaned closer to him, his smile gone.
“Are you defying me, Stump? You know what happens when someone tries to defy me.”
He turned around, to the students watching the scene. “Enjoying the show? It’s about to get better.”
“Hey Beckett!”
Both Patrick and Beckett looked to the crowd, trying to find the boy who spoke.
A guy with black and red hair, leather jacket and heavy boots pushed his way through the crowd, looking anything but happy.
Patrick swallowed hard. Oh my God, not him. Not Pete fucking Wentz.
Pete stopped in front of Beckett, arms crossed. “Why don’t you and your friends leave the kid alone and get your asses out of here?”
Beckett eyed the punk in front of him, a smile on his lips. “Since when do you defend losers, Wentz?”
“I’m not kidding, Beckett. Fuck off.”
Beckett got so close to Pete he could smell the cigar on his breath. “And what if I don’t? What are you gonna do?”
The black-haired boy’s eyes hardened. “Don’t test me. I can still kick your ass if I want.”
“Well, let’s see that.”
Beckett raised his arm, ready to punch Pete, when they heard a strong voice.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Principal Armstrong appeared at the end of the corridor, and like magic all of the students walked away, leaving the small group alone.
“Nothing, Principal Armstrong.” Beckett said, lowering his arm. “We were just talking, right, Wentz?”
Pete didn’t say anything, instead walking to Patrick and grabbing his wrist.
“Come on, kid, let’s get you out of here.”
They left the block, walking to a bench in a most cleared out place. Patrick sat down, shaking slightly, and Pete sat beside him.
“You’re okay?” he asked, voice surprisingly soft.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” Patrick stuttered, arranging his glasses. “I got used to it by now.”
“You shouldn’t. They have no right to do this, kiddo.”
Patrick looked at Pete, confused. “Why did you help me? I mean, you don’t even know me.”
Pete smiled. “I’ve been watching you get bullied every day since the start of the year. I got sick of it and decided that it was enough.”
The blonde shrugged. “They’ll stop eventually, if I just ignore them.”
“No they’ll not. Kid, guys like this don’t stop bullying you, no matter what you do.”
Patrick looked at him. “You seem to be talking by self-experience. Which is weird, because you look so…”
“Strong? Scary?” The boy finished. “Yeah, I’ve been told that. But you know what? This, this outfit, the punk attitude, it’s just a mask. It’s just a way for people to leave me alone. I used to be picked on too, for a long time, until I started acting like this. People started to avoid me, and no one tried to pick on me again.”
Patrick’s blue eyes glowed, and he looked down. “Well, maybe I should do the same thing.”
“No, you shouldn’t. Don’t try to be someone you’re not, it’s worse. Just be yourself, and you’ll be fine.”
They stood in silence for a minute, Patrick fiddling with his hands, Pete observing the little boy.
He didn’t know why, but he felt like he should protect this kid. He reminded him of himself, when he was younger and got shoved inside of lockers just ‘cause he looked like a nerd. He didn’t want this sweet guy to end like him.
The bell rang, and Patrick got up on a rush.
“Dammit, the bell, I gotta go!” He picked his backpack, and turned to Pete. “Thank you, Wentz, for saving me from Beckett.”
“No problem, and call me Pete.” He said, smiling. When Patrick walked away, he grabbed his wrist, gently turning him around. “Hey, if those assholes pick on you again, tell me, okay? I’ll teach them a lesson.”
Patrick nodded. “I will. Thank you. See you around, then, Pete.” He said, walking back to the classroom.
Pete smiled, watching him go. “See you around, Patrick.”
Patrick groaned and tried to make himself smaller (which wouldn’t be difficult as he was already small), hiding his head behind his locker door. He didn’t need to look to know who called him. Beckett and his gang always picked on him every time they saw him.
“What’s wrong, Stump, trying to hide from us?” Beckett laughed, getting closer to the kid and slamming the locker door shut.
The other boys rounded Patrick, preventing him from escaping.
“What do you want, Beckett?” he said, trying to sound threatening, but his voice was shaking.
The long-haired jock smiled mischievously, and he spoke in mock sweetness. “What do you mean, Patrick? We’re just talking!”
The other students stopped around them, watching the scene. Patrick blushed, embarrassed.
“Just let me go, Beckett, I’m not in the mood to put up with your shit.” he said, getting away from the lockers and walking away.
Beckett looked at his friends, with an expression that said “are you seeing this shit?” and grabbed Patrick’s arm, violently pushing him against the lockers.
Patrick’s head hit the lockers, and he groaned. Damn, that’ll surely leave a bruise.
Beckett leaned closer to him, his smile gone.
“Are you defying me, Stump? You know what happens when someone tries to defy me.”
He turned around, to the students watching the scene. “Enjoying the show? It’s about to get better.”
“Hey Beckett!”
Both Patrick and Beckett looked to the crowd, trying to find the boy who spoke.
A guy with black and red hair, leather jacket and heavy boots pushed his way through the crowd, looking anything but happy.
Patrick swallowed hard. Oh my God, not him. Not Pete fucking Wentz.
Pete stopped in front of Beckett, arms crossed. “Why don’t you and your friends leave the kid alone and get your asses out of here?”
Beckett eyed the punk in front of him, a smile on his lips. “Since when do you defend losers, Wentz?”
“I’m not kidding, Beckett. Fuck off.”
Beckett got so close to Pete he could smell the cigar on his breath. “And what if I don’t? What are you gonna do?”
The black-haired boy’s eyes hardened. “Don’t test me. I can still kick your ass if I want.”
“Well, let’s see that.”
Beckett raised his arm, ready to punch Pete, when they heard a strong voice.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Principal Armstrong appeared at the end of the corridor, and like magic all of the students walked away, leaving the small group alone.
“Nothing, Principal Armstrong.” Beckett said, lowering his arm. “We were just talking, right, Wentz?”
Pete didn’t say anything, instead walking to Patrick and grabbing his wrist.
“Come on, kid, let’s get you out of here.”
They left the block, walking to a bench in a most cleared out place. Patrick sat down, shaking slightly, and Pete sat beside him.
“You’re okay?” he asked, voice surprisingly soft.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” Patrick stuttered, arranging his glasses. “I got used to it by now.”
“You shouldn’t. They have no right to do this, kiddo.”
Patrick looked at Pete, confused. “Why did you help me? I mean, you don’t even know me.”
Pete smiled. “I’ve been watching you get bullied every day since the start of the year. I got sick of it and decided that it was enough.”
The blonde shrugged. “They’ll stop eventually, if I just ignore them.”
“No they’ll not. Kid, guys like this don’t stop bullying you, no matter what you do.”
Patrick looked at him. “You seem to be talking by self-experience. Which is weird, because you look so…”
“Strong? Scary?” The boy finished. “Yeah, I’ve been told that. But you know what? This, this outfit, the punk attitude, it’s just a mask. It’s just a way for people to leave me alone. I used to be picked on too, for a long time, until I started acting like this. People started to avoid me, and no one tried to pick on me again.”
Patrick’s blue eyes glowed, and he looked down. “Well, maybe I should do the same thing.”
“No, you shouldn’t. Don’t try to be someone you’re not, it’s worse. Just be yourself, and you’ll be fine.”
They stood in silence for a minute, Patrick fiddling with his hands, Pete observing the little boy.
He didn’t know why, but he felt like he should protect this kid. He reminded him of himself, when he was younger and got shoved inside of lockers just ‘cause he looked like a nerd. He didn’t want this sweet guy to end like him.
The bell rang, and Patrick got up on a rush.
“Dammit, the bell, I gotta go!” He picked his backpack, and turned to Pete. “Thank you, Wentz, for saving me from Beckett.”
“No problem, and call me Pete.” He said, smiling. When Patrick walked away, he grabbed his wrist, gently turning him around. “Hey, if those assholes pick on you again, tell me, okay? I’ll teach them a lesson.”
Patrick nodded. “I will. Thank you. See you around, then, Pete.” He said, walking back to the classroom.
Pete smiled, watching him go. “See you around, Patrick.”