When It All Goes Wrong Again

~Pete’s P.O.V.~

“…and then her dog ate it!” I said, laughing at the memory. “Dude Patrick, her musical taste is as versatile as yours! I mean, we started talking about Tupac then somehow Bright Eyes came up, then suddenly she was comparing them both to some little band from where she grew up. Almost all in the same breath!” I sighed and relaxed back into my best friend’s couch. When I looked over, Patrick was giving me a knowing look. “What?” I asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” Patrick answered quickly. “It’s just that it’s been a week and all you’ve talked about is this girl.” He leaned close to me and poked my shoulder. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a thing for her.”

“A thing? I don’t have a thing for her! That’s crazy, man!” I exclaimed, getting up and walking to the kitchen. “Come on, I’ve met her once and we only talked for like an hour. That’s hardly enough time to suddenly have a thing for someone.”

When I turned around I saw that Patrick had followed me. He grabbed a soda from the fridge then looked pointedly at me. “Fine, you don’t have a thing for her. You’ve just spent the past week talking our ears off about a perfect stranger.”

Grumbling, I fell into a chair at the table. “Okay, so maybe I like her a little.”

“A little?!” Patrick asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” I continued, ignoring him, “there might’ve been a connection, at least, I felt one.”

Patrick pulled up a chair beside me. He was grinning. I could tell he was pleased that he got me to admit it. “Hey!” he said suddenly. “Do you still have that card she gave you?”

“Yeah, why?” I asked as I pulled it from my wallet.

“I just want to see it for a sec.” He took the card from me and looked at it closely. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he squinted at the card and started dialing.

“Hey!” I cried. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He threw the card at me and sat back in his chair. “Ordering a telegram.”

“Wait, you can’t--“

He held up his finger, silencing me. From there on out I only heard his side of the conversation. “Yes, I’d like to order a telegram… For this afternoon, if it’s at all possible… Um, it’s for my friend’s birthday… Oh, his name’s Patrick. Actually, someone recommended this amazing girl to me. He said something about her having red hair… Really? That often?… Good… You do that? That would be awesome!… Okay, the address is…”

His voice faded away as I left the room. My mind reeling, I sat on the couch, grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels. With every press of the button, my thoughts changed accordingly. Channel 87… She’s coming here? A.J.’s coming here? Channel 88… What am I supposed to say to her? Channel 89… Whoa, was that Pamela Anderson? Channel 90… Do I look all right? Channel 91… Why am I freaking out? I’m the cool one. I was getting myself pretty worked up when Patrick walked in the room, closing his phone with a satisfied grin on his face.

“Well Pete-o, she’ll be here in about an hour.” He sat down next to me and stole the remote. “And she’s bringing balloons!” The boy had some strange obsession with balloons. He scrolled through the stations until he hit the Discovery Channel then set the remote down. “Apparently, she gets requested all the time. The receptionist says she’s the most popular singer they have and works almost 24/7.”

“I’m not surprised,” I mutter.

“You alright man?” Patrick asked, his gaze leaving the television for a moment.

“I’m fine,” I lied. I couldn’t seem to get comfortable and my leg kept bouncing up and down, even when I consciously tried to stop it.

“Pete, chill,” Patrick said consolingly. “Everything will be alright. Just watch the program.”

I let out a breath and turned my attention to the television. Patrick’s right, I thought. It’s no big deal. I’m just going to sit here and calmly watch this show about… honeybees?

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I didn’t pay any attention to the show. My mind just kept bouncing around and I felt like time slowed down. I was torn between feeling foolish about my nervousness and excitement for the hour to be up. I tried to tell myself I was really so eager for her to show up so I could see that I was making a big deal out of nothing. That I had imagined everything, that she wasn’t the same person I had been thinking about all week.

But all negative thoughts flew out of my head when the doorbell rang.

“Thank God,” Patrick said. “I was getting sick of you checking the time every five minutes.” He stood and headed to the door, followed closely by myself. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked. “If she sees you, then she’ll think it’s not my birthday.”

“But it’s not your birthday,” I bluntly replied.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that,” Patrick exasperatedly explained. “If you’re right here, she’ll know something’s up and she might not sing. And isn’t the whole point of this for me to hear her sing?”

The doorbell rang again.

I begrudgingly agreed with him and hid around the corner. Little did he know, I thought the whole point of this was so I could see her again, but whatever. This works, too.

From around the corner, I could hear the soft murmur of her greeting and the quiet squeals of Patrick when he saw the balloons. When she started singing, I couldn’t help myself. I had to look.

She was dry. Her hair was long and soft looking and there was a funny hat perched on top of it. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, but enough to bring out the green in her eyes. The suspenders were nowhere to be found; she wore a simple, white button up shirt with capped sleeves. The sight of her made my heart speed up.

“—Happy Birthday to you,” A.J. finished singing.

“Brava! Brava!” Patrick exclaimed, clapping his hands theatrically. “That was the best birthday gift ever! Who’s it from?” It figures he would play it up.

A.J. opened her mouth to answer but stopped before she could. She took a step closer to Patrick, narrowing her eyes suspiciously as she did. “It’s not your birthday,” she proclaimed.

“W-what?” he stuttered. “Of course it is. W-why would you say that?”

She stepped back and crossed her arms in front of her, giving Patrick a stern look. “Because it’s not. I’m not a fool. My little sister’s obsessed with you and she was going on about your birthday two months ago. What’s going on? Why are you lying?”

Patrick stuttered some sort of nonsense in her direction and looked back over his shoulder at me. The look on his face clearly read Help!!!

Being the nice guy I am, I stepped into view and walked towards my now slightly red in the face friend. He let out a grateful sigh of relief as A.J.’s angry glare turned to me.

Her glare changed to surprise as she said, “Pete? What the hell’s going on?”

“It’s all my fault, don’t blame Patrick,” I started, giving Patrick a look to shut him up. “It’s just that, I guess I’ve kinda been raving about you all week and then he got curious and so…” I trailed off, not really sure where I was going anymore. I couldn’t read the expression on her face; it was blank.

After a few tense moments, she let out a heavy breath and said, “It’s alright. Understandable, in fact. I guess I’m just a little bitchy, it’s been a long day.” Her hand went to her face, fingers rubbing the bridge of her nose.

Patrick flashed her a smile. “You wanna come in? I’ve got lemonade, tea, soda, Kool-Aid, vodka…”

“No, I’m good,” she said with a laugh. “Actually, I have to be across town in 20 minutes, so if you could just sign here, I’ll be on my way.” Her arm was out, a clipboard hovering in front of Patrick.

He signed with a flourish and she said, “Alright, have a nice day. And, Happy Birthday.” If I’m not mistaken, it was said with a touch of sarcasm.

“Nice to meet you A.J.!” Patrick cried. She only turned and waved, flashing that beautiful smile of hers. “Don’t be an idiot, go after her,” he said while nudging me hard in my ribs.

I woke from the daze I had fallen into and ran after her, crying, “Wait!”

She stopped and gave me a questioning look. The sun broke through the clouds, highlighting her hair, amazing strands of copper and gold shimmering in the light.

“What are you doing tonight?” I asked before I could change my mind.

“Why?”

Why indeed. I reached up and rubbed my neck, clearing my throat before I replied. “Well… it’s just that… I’m kind of having a party, just a little get together really. Nothing fancy, a few friends, maybe some pizza and movies. I want you to come.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I have to work in the morning and I’m not really the party type.”

“Then it’s a good thing this is a get together,” I said with a laugh. “I promise you can leave whenever you like. You have to come, fate wants us to spend more time with each other.”

A.J. raised her eyebrow and said, “Oh does it now?”

“Of course, can’t you tell?” I asked, really getting into it now. “This is the second time in a week you’ve showed up on the doorstep of where I’ve been. You can’t fight it!”

She looked as if she would fight it just to be stubborn, and I might’ve been heartbroken if there wasn’t a smile in the corners of her mouth.

“It’s at my house, you know where it is. Show up anytime after 7. Say you’ll be there.” I gave her my fail-proof puppy dog eyes.

The smile that had been threatening finally appeared. When she smiled, her face lit up like a thousand spotlights, you know, like the ones cops shine on you when they catch you making out in the car in some deserted area. “Maybe,” she simply said, getting into her car.

“Okay, maybe will work. But here,” I said, grabbing the clipboard from her hands, “here’s my number. At least call me if you can’t come so I don’t worry.” I messily scribbled my number in the corner of the page.

“I can do that. Thanks Pete,” she said softly, looking a little amazed as she started her car.

I was standing in the middle of the driveway waving at her retreating when Patrick came up beside me. He threw his arm around my shoulder and said, “So, we’re having a party tonight?”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Looks like it.”

“Cool. I’ll start letting people know.” He pulled out his phone and started dialing as he climbed the porch steps. “Hey, Bren. What are you doing tonight?… Not anymore you’re not, party at Wentz’s. Can you make a cake?”