Pete
April 4th
I don't feel bad for making Ashlee cry at all.
I mean she saw it coming. I was getting too bored of her, and I wanted something new that she wouldn't give to me.
So I fucked her friend.
It didn't mean anything, okay? I just hope she doesn't leave the Young Bloods because she could tell Patrick a lot of things that could put me in deep shit.
But here I am right, sitting at my lunch table with Travie, Brendon, and Dallon. I should get my mind of this shit and starts listening to their conversation.
"-e's really gonna switch sides, I think." Brendon says.
Oh great, guess I can't escape this bitch.
"Guys, honestly just shut the fuck up, alright? Ashlee is a whore and who gives a fuck?" I say and the three look at me.
Travie sighs, "dude, Ashlee could ruin you."
"No she couldn't. He could literally just say she's lying." Dallon sasses.
I smirk, "Yea, Dallon's right, Jackass."
Travie just rolls his eyes, taking a bite of his sandwich.
"It's whatever." Brendon says.
"Yeah. It's petty." Dallon agrees.
There's a pause. Travie remains eating, while Dallon and Brendon lightly talk. And I'm just staring off into space. Actually, I'm scanning the room.
I'm looking at the split lunch tables. Half are for Young Bloods and half are for Soul Punks. I'm sat at the first table for YB's. It acts as a royal table almost—people like myself, the King; the guards, Travie, Brendon, and Dallon; and the "Queen", who used to be Ashlee can sit here—and the rest of the table are normally categorized by clique.
The other half for SP's is a little different. Patrick, the King, sits always at the last table—this makes us as far away as possible. The cliques kind of mesh together at tables and not even all of the tables are used. At Patrick's table it's usually just him, and his guards (Bob, Hayley, Gerard, and Frank) because he doesn't have a girlfriend, so he has no Queen. Ha, loser.
Well, I guess that makes me a loser too because now I've betrayed my Queen so...whatever. Fuck her.
"You good there, Wentz?"
I snap out of my thoughts at that voice.
"Travie, let me zone out." I sigh and put my head in my hands.
Travie, Brendon, and Dallon all look at each other.
"Pete, seriously are you okay?" Dallon asks.
"I think the real question is if Brendon's ass is okay because I heard some shit in the bathroom earlier." I say angry.
Travie just brakes down laughs, Dallon frowning slightly in pity. Brendon's face turns beet red, and he starts yelling.
"Fuck you, dickhead!! I was fucking around with a cheerleader, not a dude!! What the fuck?! That's gross, bro, ew!!"
Dallon takes a sit on his drink, slurping it while making knowing eyes towards the wall.
I brush it off, too distracting by Brendon's rage. Travie just high five/hand shake things me.
"Now that," he starts, "that's the Pete Wentz we all know and love!"
I laugh silently.
And then the bell rings and I get up to head off to History.
