Fake It Like You Matter

"We're lost aren't we?" I asked softly as Pete drove the rental car, some kind of Toyota, through a quiet neighborhood.

It was after one in the morning in Vancouver, but with the time change factored in, our bodies thought it was after 4, not that Pete would usually be asleep then, anyways.

"I don't know," He responded, pulling over to study a ripped piece of paper, full of boy writing and began mumbling as he read, "...left onto first, another left on Kaslo street, and three blocks past the park. Number 10845, it should be on the right...I think we passed it."

On the plane he had explained that his dad worked with someone who had a place in Vancouver that he and his wife rarely used in the Fall. Pete had convinced his dad to convince his friend to let us borrow the place for a few nights, and apparently Mr. Wentz was as persuasive as his son, because he came home the next day with the key and the alarm code.

Pete turned the car around and a few minutes later we had found the place we were looking for. It was an older house that had been well kept, but the unmistakable scent of neglect still lingered in the air. That didn't matter, however, once we had opened some windows and dragged our tired bodies up the stairs to the master bedroom to discover a king size bed.

"Nice," I laughed, dropping my bags and turning to Pete, nodding my approval.

He laughed back at me and asked, "Which side do you want?"

"This one, I guess," I pointed to the side on my left from the foot of the bed, "Is that alright?"

"Yeah," He pulled back the covers, "They promised the sheets were clean."

"I was concerned for a second," I giggled then shrugged, "But I guess since the rest of the house is so clean, I shouldn't have been worried..."

"So, do you want to go see your mom tomorrow and just hang out the next day, or...?" He wondered as we got ready for bed.

"I think so," I nodded, "But I want to sleep in."

"Me too," He said and I saw his smirk, then laughed gently in response, knowing it was unlikely that he would sleep more than three hours.

"I like your arms," Pete informed me after we'd scrounged for food, given up and climbed into the giant bed. He pulled my arm out from under the covers, studying it as he made it bend and unbend, "You have really great arms."

I giggled at him being all weird.

"I like your arms too," I confessed, "I like them best when they're around me, though."

"Like this?" He smiled, pulling me in and wrapping them around me.

"Mhmm," I nodded, resting my head on his chest and we laid together.

"You always smell kinda like peaches," He noted lazily after a little while, "I'm going to miss that. Do you smell that way on purpose?"

"It's just my shampoo," I told him, sidestepping the comment about him missing me. I didn't think I could handle talking about it again just then, so I continued, "You smell like boy, and a little bit of fabric softener, when you haven't worn the same hoody for a week. But I love it."

"I love you," He said hugging me super tight.

"Thank you for this Peter," I whispered and yawned, "This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me..."

"You're worth it," He kissed the side of my head and somehow knew I was close to sleep, "Shh...goodnight, Lovely."

"Night," I breathed and drifted off in his arms.

The next morning I woke up alone in the king size bed. Usually Pete would stay with me until I awoke, so it was hard not to worry just a little, but upon wandering down to the kitchen, I saw he'd made other plans this morning.

"Breakfast," He shrugged, wearing a frilly apron and wielding a spatula, "And I'll admit I used pancake mix, and they probably wont taste nearly as good as yours...but the convenient store on the corner was pretty limited in selection..."

I just lowered myself groggily into one of the chairs around the kitchen table, smiling my 'I love you.'

"Dude... Canadian money is bad ass," He said suddenly, pulling a $10 bill out of his pocket, "Seriously, look at this... Its fucking purple! I love this country."

I laughed, "Yeah, me too."

After breakfast, Pete and I got ready to go out and made our way down to the car.

"Do you know how to get there?" He wondered as we buckled our seat belts and I nodded, directing him slowly out of the big city and to another smaller town about 20 minutes outside of Vancouver.

"This street here," I pointed to a lane with aged and cracked pavement, "I think its down this one."

"Okay..." He turned down the narrow road, lined with big evergreens and we could see the cemetery come into view as we drove.

"I don't know which one it is, though," I mumbled as we parked on the side of the street.

"Don't worry, Lovely. Well find her," Pete assured me, reaching for my hand, "Are you ready?"
I took a deep breath, nodded and we climbed out of the car, setting off towards the cemetery gates.