[this was originally a fic on its own but eh)
Pete had never been to a party. He was a nerd, a loser so it had been a surprise when Vance had invited him to a party.

It was after Pete's chemistry class, Vance was leaning against Pete's locker.
"How long have you been standing there?" He asked him when he went to put his books into his locker.

Everyone chattered excitedly before heading to the cafeteria. Vance pulled out a shiny black comb and styled his pompadour.
"Awhile, the prefects saw me and chased me, I ran like hell and hid."
Pete leaned in and sniffed his shoulder.
"The garbage, I'm guessing?"

Vance waved a hand at him in dismissal.
"Yeah yeah.. If you weren't such a cutie, I'd bust your jaw." He joked. Pete knew they were a couple but it didn't shock him any less whenever Vance made a flirty remark.

Pete slowly opened his lock, Vance watched but he already knew his combination. Boyfriends knew each other's locker combinations.
"I missed you." Vance admitted and rested his chin on Pete's shoulder.

"I-I missed you too." Pete turned slightly to look at the greaser. He didn't look too long but he could tell he was troubled about something.
"What's wrong?"
"I.. I failed my math." He mumbled and sighed.

Pete turned around and frowned. He couldn't help but feel extremely sympathetic for him.
"I'm sorry.." He murmured before he closed the locker.

The lock snapped shut and he headed to the cafeteria.
"What's on the menu?" Vance asked, popping the collar of his leather jacket to look rebellious.
Pete looked at Gordon Wakefield's tray which was completed with pizza and fries.

It looked somewhat eatable. Pete yawned and grabbed the tray before loading up his tray. Vance followed, speaking excitedly about bike races.
Pete listened, not ignoring him.

"What do you think?" He asked, holding up an apple juice box before an orange juice box.
"Orange, gotta protect yourself from scurvy." Vance joked, raising his brow before smiling.

He looked stupidly cute which made Pete grin. They sat down at the greaser's table. Pete still felt out of ease when he hung out with them. They were cold and tough, the opposite of him.

Pete immediately began chewing the carton like pizza. He looked up gingerly at Johnny and Hal.
"Hey, Petey." He felt a clap on his back and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Thank god. He didn't shriek. His heart raced before he turned to see who it was. Gary, surprise, surprise.
"Hey." He greeted, swallowing down a mouthful of food.

Gary sat between Vance and Pete which made the redhead roll his eyes before angrily sipping his juice.
"So.. Me and Jimmy are busy-" he began before Pete corrected him.
"Jimmy and I."
This evoked laughter from some of the greasers, Lefty snorting slightly.

"Okay, smartass.." He blushed from embarrassment. He continued: "we're going to a party later so we won't be able to hang out with you."
Pete was used to this, he was.

His popular friends would go off and drink, have fun and act like they would die tomorrow. He usually played G&G with the nerds or stayed holed up in his room and drank Beam Cola.
He nodded sadly before turning around.

Vance watched with pity and secondhand embarrassment. "Hey! Pete, why not come to the party with us, right?"
His eyes brightened with disbelief before his jaw dropped. Some of the greasers gave a frustrated look towards Johnny.

Johnny nodded.
"It's a good idea, Pete's a friend of ours." He sipped his Beam Cola. Norton sighed in disbelief but allowed Johnny to speak out his opinion.

After lunch, they were walking to the exit.
"I can't believe it." Pete exclaimed as he skipped down the steps.
"Believe what, baby?" Vance asked absentmindedly before running a comb through his greased hair.

He definitely needed more pomade. He kept that in the rear of his brain with all the others things he'd forget.
"I don't know how to act at a party." Pete admitted sullenly.

Vance grabbed his wrist and tugged it.
"C'mon, let's go to the auto shop, I need some parts."
Pete nodded and walked along.
Prefects marched around the school, giving the boys a suspicious look.

"Lemme tell you how to party," Vance said, patting Pete on the back. "First of all, you need to dress well." He began counting his arguments on his right hand's fingers.

"Like... wear a tie?" Pete inquired, obviously confused. Vance snorted and rolled his eyes.
"Nah, like wear light clothes or else you'll sweat like crazy." He neared the auto shop but aimed to the hole in the fence.

He climbed on careful as to not wreck his pants. He reached Pete's forearm and pulled it up.
He wheezed in exertion before dropping to the concrete.

"And.. Don't drink anything that someone gives you, don't leave your drink alone, hydrate.." He noted off quickly. Pete listened attentively as if it was valuable information he'd be tested on.

"And, have fun." Vance walked inside the garage. He began pulling out monkey wrenches and screw drivers. Pete smiled contently, "thank you, I hope I don't embarrass you or anything."

Vance glanced over his shoulder and his green eyes softened.
"Don't worry about it, you won't." He reassured. Pete leaned against the wall and watched Vance stuff the tools into his jacket.

Later, Pete sat on his bed. He let his fingers run over his bedspread nervously.
"Relax.." He told himself and stood up. He looked at the mirror on his dresser.

He inhaled before searching through his drawers for shorts and a T-shirt. He grabbed his Bullworth's Bull Tee despite the fact that he hated Bullworth.

He pulled on the shorts which showed the new mosquito bites on his shins. He sighed out loudly and glanced back into the mirror.

He didn't look any better. He had colourless pale bags under his eyes and he felt tired too. He felt nervous, butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

He glanced to the side to check if the door was still closed. It was. He looked back at the mirror.
"You can do this." He reassured, giving himself a pep talk.
"It's just a little party.. A-and Vance's gonna be there, Jimmy too.. You'll be a-okay."

He stepped out into the dorm's recreation room. He sat on the couch and watched TV, trying his best to relax.
He looked at Bucky staring at him whilst he played Street Racer.
"What are you wearing?" He gasped.

"Uh, I'm going to a party." He answered shyly. Bucky tilted his head to the side like a dog, confused by what he said.
"Par-ty? You? Is it at your mom's?" He was assuming that Pete couldn't have been invited to a cool kid party.

It pissed him off but nonetheless, he remained patient.
"My mom's? Heh.. No, it's at Ted's." He chirped nervously.
Bucky's shocked expression was replaced with complete rage.
"You're lying, even if you weren't, you'll be a punching bag."

He left the room, scoffing. Pete rolled his eyes but he would be lying if he said his words didn't sting. He tried focusing on the TV unsuccessfully.

Pete realized he was nervous because he was scratching his knee until blood drew. He widened his eyes and watched blood pool on his hairless knee.

Just then, the door opened. Pete glanced over the couch and saw Vance walk in. He didn't move, he waved him over.
"Hi." He greeted shyly before Vance looked his way and smiled. He strolled over and plopped himself down beside him.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked as he reached for Pete's trembling hand.
"Yeah, I'm nervous." He spoke honestly which earned a soft chuckle from the greaser.
"No worries, I was nervous for my first party." He reassured. Pete didn't believe him.

There was a silence where they could only hear, the TV's buzzing, the video game's beeping and muffled yelling from outside.
Vance's calloused hand seemed to slither atop of Pete's, to comfort him.

"You look nice.." He chuckled softly, pinching Pete's sleeve and observing it. Pete resisted rolling his eyes.
"Thanks, I figured I'd wear something light, what about you?" He gestured to his boyfriend's leather jacket.

Vance looked down and ran his hands across the worn leather. He observed his jacket with appreciation.
"I wear this coat like my pride n' joy." He replied which Pete understood.

It was nice to feel like you belonged. Pete was jealous of Vance, at least greasers seemed tough. He was a nerd.
"Yeah, that jacket brings out your eyes."

Vance scoffed, muttering a 'shut up' which, combined with his East American accent sounded like: 'shaddap'.

"You're a real romantic, you know that?" He wrapped his arm quickly around Pete's shoulder and caught his neck in the crook of his elbow. He pulled him to his chest and had him in a loose headlock.

He proceeded to playfully give him a noogie. His knuckles brushing against Pete's buzz cut which had started to grow brown curls.

"We should go." Pete suggested, pushing his arm off. Vance nodded, agreeing.
They hopped off the couch and headed out the dorms.

It was still light out, only seven. The night was young as Gary would say. The sun hung low, casting a golden glow on everything.
If Pete had his camera with him, he'd snap a few pictures.

It was hot, Pete was glad he wore shorts. He didn't know where to go, Vance pulled him towards the gates. Pete noticed that most people were leaving, probably because it was a Friday night.

Vance's electric blue BMX bike rested in the stands outside the gates. He got on rapidly, inviting Pete on with a wave.
Pete stood on the steps in the hind wheel.

Vance pushed his legs and pedalled with a grunt. Instead of turning right to Bullworth Town they aimed to the left of the school: Old Bullworth Vale.

As Vance pedalled over the short bridge, Pete glanced at the water. The sun reflected on the water's surface as it rippled. Despite his nervousness about his first party, the beauty of nature seemed to calm him.

He took a breath as Vance struggled to bike up the hills, to the nice neighbourhoods. He knew Mr Hattrick lived there because Jimmy had told him about when he destroyed his property.

He wished he could achieved the level the recklessness Jimmy was but remained extremely empathic. He supposed that's what Vance was like. He was kind but rough around the edges. Pete supposed he was a flat out wimp.

They finally reached the house. It was a nice Georgian house, that invited them with music blasting through its windows.
Vance pulled his breaks, evoking sparks to fly from beneath the front wheel.

Pete hopped off gingerly before Vance swung off. Vance looked around suspiciously which puzzled Pete. He walked his bike over to a bush in the front yard before laying it beneath it.

It seemed well hidden, good enough for Vance. He stood there with his hands on his hips before he wiped bike grease off onto his jeans.
Pete followed him as he grabbed his forearm.

The redhead could tell he was nervous by how he seemed to hide behind him as they approached the house, along with other students.

It confused Pete. Why did preps, bullies, greasers and jocks all trash talk each other but invited each other to parties nonetheless? He looked at Vance's smug expression, confident and excited. Another question for another time.

They jogged up the granite steps onto the porch. The door was already opened for them, a shitty shoe held the door open permanently.

"Wow, Ted's richer than I thought." Croaked Pete, trying to add conversation while he internally freaked out. His heart was thumping along with the nauseating music.
"Yeah, hoo boy.." Vance whistled through his teeth.

Before stepping in, Troy and Wade pushed past them. Pete glanced uncertainly at them before Vance gave his hand a squeeze to show him that he was still there with him.

It was a considerably thoughtful gesture to Pete who seemed close to running away. Lola walked up the steps, a pep in her step before she turned to them.

"Hey boys." She waved before walking inside the house. Vance stood there, waiting for Pete to compose himself. Pete looked at the irked expression on his boyfriend's face and forced himself to walk in.

The music seemed louder than before. Some R&B song played behind everyone's chatter. If Pete tried counting all the people in one room, he would've gotten an aneurism.

He did his best to ignore the cesspool of potential bullies. Vance ripped his hand away from his and grabbed his shoulder. He felt childish as Vance steered him in the direction of the kitchen.

As his feet seemed to auto-pilot, he looked around the house. He saw a lot of students. He saw Zoe and Jimmy curled up on a couch, sharing a beer. Trent was arguing with Kirby before he tossed his solo cup full of vodka at him: Pete already knew what the argument was about.

He saw Damon West in the living room with a lamp shade over his head before Ted yelled at him for destroying his property. It seemed too bizarre. It was an episode of the Twilight Zone.

Vance pushed him in the kitchen where people served themselves food and drinks. That's right: The Twilight Zone. He figured the episode would be called: A freak show in Bullworth.
He chuckled quietly to himself and began anxiously picking a scab on his wrist.

Vance grabbed a tall bottle of beer, he used a bottle opener before it popped and hissed. He began chugging it down and sighing in relief.
"I was thirsty." He glanced at Pete who stared at his hands.

He raised a brow and shook his head to himself.
"Pete." He began which earned him no reply. He kept on looking at his hands, to keep himself from going into a frenzy.

Pete had a psychologist, years ago when he hadn't even enrolled into Bullworth. He was bald and very patient, like his grandfather. He went in because he had severe anxiety attacks and they struck without warning.

It got so bad that his mother had to pick him up from school where he threw up from a panic attack. Then, she took him to the psychologist. It actually helped.

One method that he used was: stare at your hands, focus on small things like what he felt, smelt and saw. It worked so his mom stopped taking him.
Fine, he had gotten better.

Except, Ted's circus of a party got to him. The noises: loud screaming, chattering, music. What he felt: the counter against his back and sweat pooling on his forehead.

Vance shook his shoulder which made him jerk his head at him.
"What?" He asked angrily. Vance widened his eyes slightly, he raised a solo cup. "I was wondering what you wanted to drink.."
"Oh."

He looked all over the counter, all stuff he probably couldn't keep down. It was either cheap beer or strong liquor. Vance reached across the counter and grabbed a can of Beam Cola.

Pete didn't argue with his only option, he thanked Vance and pushed on the tab. He listened to the can crack and fizzle before taking a small sip.
Almost immediately, his stomach churned.

For a second, he thought that the drink had gone bad. He realized that the nauseous feeling he had was him, not the soda.
Vance sipped his beer, relishing the yellow and bitter taste. He knew Pete wouldn't have had any alcoholic drinks.

He smiled to himself. He could imagine Pete drinking one sip of beer before calling his mom and apologizing for underage drinking. He was a nerd alright, his nerd.

Vance frowned softly and pat his shoulder.
"You alright, Kowalski?" He inquired, checking up on the shorter boy. Pete glanced at him and sighed, shrugging with indecisiveness.

He felt bothered by Pete's lack of excitement as he stared blankly at his can.
"Listen, are you uncomfortable?" He began as Pete shot him a surprised look. "'Cause I can bring you back to school, if you want.."

Pete stared at Vance and grimaced. He looked pissed off, the corners of his lips curled down and his eyebrows were raised. As if he was questioning Pete: are you a wimp?

Pete took a slow breath and looked at Vance before glancing out the kitchen entry. He could try having a good time. Maybe if he stuck to Vance, he'd be fine.. Besides Jimmy, Zoe and Gary were here.

He took a gulp of his soda before huffing out.
"Yeah, I'm fine, Vance." He said with certainty, to show he was. Vance set his glass bottle in the recycling bin beside the counter. He inspected Pete, unsure but he shrugged.
"Whatever you say."

Vance grabbed Pete's arm and dragged him out. Pete wanted to impress Vance with his false laid back attitude. Except that the greaser kept dragging him around like a mother would to a toddler at a store.

It started building pent up stress in Pete which he tried to treat his anxiety. Vance looked around before his eyes brightened. He walked over to a couch where the greasers sat.

Lola, of course, was drinking some whisky along with Johnny. Hal greeted them.
"Hey guys, I didn't think Pete would show." He confessed. Pete widened his brown eyes.
"Why would you think that?!" His voice cracked embarrassingly which evoked laughter from the group.

"I guess Trent was right." Lefty smiled dazedly, taking a sip of his cooler. A supposedly girly drink: according to Pete's uncle when his father was drinking one at a BBQ.

"Right? About what?" Pete asked, voice cracking as he tried to speak over the bass boosted music. Vance had let Pete's arm go, 'letting the ankle biter free'.
"Oh! Uh, he said that you're a late bloomer."

That wasn't true! He had hit puberty but his parents weren't very tall themselves and energy drinks had shot his height. It was embarrassing, being as short as the little kids. Besides he only got voice cracks when he was nervous.

"Where's Trent? Lemme at him." He held up his two fists, jumping lightly on his two feet like a boxer. He had completely forgot that boxing was a preppy sport.

All the greasers, including Vance gave him as look of distaste. He couldn't tell if it was because boxing was a preppy sport or if they saw through him and knew he was far too chicken to fight Trent.
So much for impressing.

There was an awkward silence before Norton struck up a conversation about gym class. Pete looked down at the dark brown wooden floor.
He felt someone clap him on the back, it was Vance.

He leaned in and comforted him.
"It's okay, they're assholes when they're drunk." He even kissed Pete's temple which tickled.
It was the only time that Pete felt better during the party.

He listened to the conversation, before he seemed to look around him. He remembered when parties with the same kids meant going to their house and having cake before driving their moms crazy.

Everyone had grown up, he guessed. The only parties he had been invited to lately were all G&G games. He never told Vance about them, especially not the fact that he actually enjoyed them.

"Vance." Pete cleared his throat. Which seemed impossible compared to the cacophony of the party.
"Mhm?" He replied, more emotionally invested in listening to Johnny talk about bikes.
"I'm going to get a drink." He spoke hoarsely.

He had expected him to grab his arm again and pull him there. Vance was too focused on something else, he sighed and nodded.
"Go ahead.."

Pete walked away, finally noticing how stuffy the air was. As he neared the kitchen, he almost fell into jock territory.
He entered the kitchen and looked for the sink.

He needed to splash some cold water onto his face or else he'd freak. He hurried over to the kitchen sink. To his dismay: there was a pair of socks in the sink.
He dry heaved in disgust and turned away.

He stood there and watched everyone interact with each other. They spoke loudly and cheerfully, which Pete couldn't do with another person.

It reminded him of Animal Planet. Which was his guilty pleasure show, other than Swim Team.
He didn't feel like drinking anymore soda despite the feeling in his throat. He was only a little thirsty but his throat felt like shards of glass were embedded inside.

Casey and Kirby strolled into the kitchen, yelling. He guessed they were drunk. His heart rate picked up and his face felt hot.
He breathed shallowly as Casey reached for another beer.

Maybe if he didn't move, they wouldn't notice him. Kirby laughed at something Casey said, snorting before he froze. He turned to Pete, frozen stiff and afraid.
"Hey, who invited the twerp?" He slurred, punching Casey's arm.

Casey stopped himself from opening another drink and looked up. They looked at each other, both puzzled and clueless as to why Pete Kowalski was at a cool kid party.

"Hey.. guys.." He croaked, chuckling nervously. The mood didn't lighten even a bit. They glared at him, annoyed and pissed off.

He expected them to grab him and shove him into the trash. They only stared before Casey turned.
"Heh, I'll tell Ted that the wimp's here.." Which Kirby doubted easily by how much booze he was gulping down.

Pete dropped his empty can of soda. It hit the tiled kitchen floor. He pushed off of his left leg and ran out. He looked around frantically for the bathroom.

He saw it before he ran in and closed the door abruptly behind home. He fell onto the floor, throwing his arm over the edge of the tub. He breathed sharply, hearing himself wheeze.

He dropped his head down, his forehead laid against his knees. He breathed long deep breaths before he gave up and broke down. He hyperventilated, hearing himself cry.

Tears ran down his cheeks as he finally let his anxiety go free. His stomach felt like it was on the verge of vomiting but it wouldn't let him.
He couldn't go back out there, he'd stay in the bathroom until it was time to go.

His head fell back, he closed his irritated teary eyes and sighed. Faintly, through the thick walls, he heard the song 'Everybody (Backstreet's Back)' and everyone singing along.

He sighed and got up with his little strength. His legs felt like jello, his muscles felt completely weak and unable to support him. He heard himself sniffle, echoing slightly off the bathroom walls.

He wiped his arm across his eyes, collecting smears of tears and salty sweat. He relaxed, laying sprawled on the cold floor.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his shallow breathing. He jumped when he heard someone knock. Vance?
"Hey! Open up!" Bob barked from behind the white wooden door.

Pete felt all the efforts he did to calm down slip away. His breathing quickened and his eyes darted around the small room. It seemed as if the grey walls started to close in on him.

He swallowed his stringy saliva. He couldn't put anymore fake smiles for the party. He had to leave before he cried in front of all the cool kids.

His wide frantic eyes shot their look over to the small window beside the bath. He nodded to nobody in particular, more like himself to confirm what he would do to escape.

He lifted one weak leg over into the tub before his trembling hands grabbed hold on the window.
He used all remaining strength in him to push up the window.
It was thin, only made to let steam out the bathroom when someone was showering.

Pete doubt that there was room to crawl through. There was a second knock and he widened his eyes. He had half a mind to go and open it, hoping it was Vance.

He shook his head and pushed it up. He poked his head out, it had quickly gotten darker since when he entered the house. The night was fresher too, he gasped in all the air.

He felt terrified and his arms felt numb and achy. He raised his left knee and pushed his legs one by one out the window. He held onto the window ledge from inside.
If he slipped, he could fall back and crack his skull.

The morbid thought only added to the neverending anxiety that Pete felt wash over him. He took a breath in before pushing himself outside.
Since the window's opening was so narrow: he scraped his forehead slightly.

He immediately fell into a bush. It felt quick, like a sudden blur.
He pulled himself out, wiping off dirt on him.
He wished his mom could pick him up. He thought miserably.

He looked around before he began to run away from the horrid house. He could faintly hear the beat of 'It's My Life' by Talk Talk. He began running, forcing himself on so that the music could completely disappear.

It was like driving a vehicle without any gas. It would crash eventually and so would he.
He ran down the hill, his throat felt like it was on fire. His calves stung and he stopped at the bottom.

He grabbed his knees and breathed ruggedly, gasping in only burnt his parched throat. He brought his wrist in front of his eyes.
His watch read: 12 pm.

It explained why it was pitch black outside. His sore eyes began adapting to the darkness as he started to walk. More like limp or shamble..

He sighed, wishing for nothing more than a ride. In his exhausted brain, he had an idea: ride the bus back.
He fished his hand into his pocket, trying to find some change.

He pulled his hand out empty-handed. He cursed softly and sniffled again, on the verge of tears. He knew that the walk would be maybe an hour long, he could try to get back.

It was a spur of the moment, he had to walk. There, in his dorm, he'd be safe. He walked, his mind flashing a cursed message: what if you were wrong?
He hated those words because he supposed they were usually right.

He was too busy thinking about the possibility of him reacting awfully to the party to realize that he was violating curfew.

There was a cop car. Officer Dumes drove, annoyed that he had to work at 12 in the morning. He saw a short silhouette walk clumsily.
He slowed down, easing his foot off the accelerator. He realized it was a teen.

He pulled up beside Pete who stopped in his tracks and spun around. Just his luck, the police. He didn't do anything, he stared at the officer.

"Hello." He croaked, his voice hoarse because he was parched.
"Evenin', son." He greeted with a cold layer in the tone of his voice. He could hear the country radio station which the officer turned down.

"Son, do you know what time it is?" He asked, raising a bushy grey brow. Pete knew, he decided to play dumb.
"Uh, no, what time is it?" He inquired, shaking the side of his head with the wrist that didn't wear a watch.

"It's midnight." He stated, shaking his head with disappointment. Pete had stayed up late plenty of times, not outside of the dorms though.
"Oh! I was just.. returning back to Bullworth Academy." He replied.

The officer's face brightened at his two last words. Pete was clueless as to why he was.
"Thought you were one of them punks, you know, in Blue Skies Industries." He joked politely.

Pete hadn't ever been pulled over by the police before. He decided that laughing along was the only course of action to getting him out of the mess he landed in.
"No sir." He laughed quietly, staring at the radio inside the car instead of officer.

"Want a ride back?" He offered. Pete felt like refusing, he looked ahead of him. He could barely see the shape of the school in the distance so he agreed.

The drive there was a one sided conversation. Officer Dumes turned out to be quite the chatter box. He was dropped off in front of the school.

He got out and heard the squeal of tires before the car drove away. Pete crouched slightly and snuck back to the boy's dorm. The prefects were more attentive than usual, knowing there was a party so there had to be kids sneaking back.

Pete got inside the dorm and collapsed onto the floor, sighing in relief. All the nervousness he had, dissolved as he realized he was back home.

He walked to his room and fell onto his bed. He didn't bother changing into his PJs. He collapsed onto the uncomfortable mattress and fell asleep immediately.

He was woken up, feeling someone shake him. He tried swatting the hands away, attempting to go back to sleep.
"Wake up." A voice called through to him.

He gave up and his heavy eyelids fluttered open. Vance stood there beside his bed.
Pete blinked until his vision cleared and Vance appeared less blurry.

His usual smooth pompadour hung loose, strands rested on his sweaty forehead. He smelt strongly of alcohol, beer, whisky, vodka.. You name it.

The lighting fast vision of Vance partying, enjoying himself without Pete made him suddenly irritated.
He rolled over, his back showing to the greaser coldly.

Vance grabbed his arm and yanked him up. Pain throbbed at his arm socket. Pete sat up, leaning against his pillows. A dull headache started to blossom in Vance's brain, he supposed drinking wasn't such a good idea.

He didn't mean to provoke Pete when he tugged on his arm.
"Where were you?" He asked, simple and short.
"What?" Pete asked groggily, wetting his dry lips.

"The party, I looked for you for an hour!" He contended, throwing his arms out to show how frustrated he was with him. Pete felt guilty, he looked down at the pillow he was leaning against.

"I'm sorry.." He felt a lump form in his throat which he swallowed before it sounded obvious he was near bawling.
"I was just.. Why?" Vance sat on the edge of his bed.

Pete smelt awfully like sweat, he couldn't tell if it was from running, anxiety or the weather.
"I was afraid," he began, avoiding Vance's intense stare. "The jocks intimidated me."

Vance raised a brow, a 'so?' smirk plastered on.
"So you ran away? I thought I taught you to fight back?"
Pete hauled himself of his comfortable bed.

He walked to his closet and pulled off his smelly shirt and pants before pulling on PJs. All the while, he explained his reason.

"There wasn't just a jock, pushing me when I'm walking down the hall--it-it was a lot of them and they wanted to kick my ass." He felt out of breath after his outburst. He continued, using a softer and slower tone.

"People don't like me because I'm like a nerd, all the teachers speak to me like I'm less than a nerd.. Jesus, I get treated like I'm special."
He returned to his bed and crawled underneath the covers.

Vance stared at his lap the whole time where he had spilled soda on at the party. It had been fun at first until he realized that Pete had completely disappeared.

"You are special." He argued, trying to compliment Pete. Yeah, so what if he was a nerd? He was smart, cute and down to earth which he believed was special because nobody at Bullworth was as real as Pete. So he was special.

"Not that kind of special." He retorted, finally looking at Vance. He sluggishly glanced up and held his gaze with Pete.
"Everyone fucking patronizes me." He muttered to himself.

Vance frowned and there was silence. Pete laid back, staring at the water stained ceiling.
"You know, I haven't had a bad anxiety attack for awhile.." Suddenly, Pete's voice wavered and threatened with promise of the boy crying.

"Yeah?" Vance murmured, reaching out for Pete's face which was how he expected: wet with tears.
"I guess the party overwhelmed me and I couldn't take it." He began crying hard, hiccuping along his sobbing.

Vance felt like crying himself. He hated hearing such a sweet guy cry. He held him in his arm, cuddling up to him.
Pete rested his face on his chest and he could feel hot tears seep through his shirt.

Pete's body shook as he silently sobbed.
"Anxiety's the worst." Pete muttered, angrily to his poor state of mind.
"I know, I had one today too," he sighed and rested his chin on Pete's head.

"You know how I told you I failed math? I had a panic attack after because my parents expect decent grades so I can make money and live the dream they never realized." He whispered this, with evident pity and frustration tied with his tone.

"I didn't give a shit but I wanted to better myself but I'm too stupid." He snarled. Pete looked up at Vance.
"I'm sorry.. But I know you can do it, you are smart.." He tried reassuring him.

Vance shook his head.
"I guess you're right--that's a problem for tomorrow.." He stretched his legs out and pulled Pete closer.
"I just want to sleep, I'm gonna have a hangover tomorrow.." He sighed loudly.

They both desperately needed shut-eye. They held each other and slept, trying to forget the party that they expected to be fun. Pete decided to confess something.
"I like Melvin's Grottos & Gremlins game parties better."