Pete's POV
"You have got to be kidding me," I said, as I walked into the boardroom in the courthouse and saw the teenager sitting slumped in the chair. He looked up and his face blanched.
"Do you two know each other?" the lawyer asked.
"We've met," I said, crossing my arms. "Briefly."
"Small world," the kid's lawyer said.
"You could say that," I kept staring at the kid. He looked so much like I remembered Tanya. How had I not recognized that the other night?
The kid stayed slumped in his seat, his eyes averted, but his face was pale.
The lawyers went over the paperwork that the social worker and Tanya's lawyer had, I signed a few things, being careful to read them, and asked my lawyer a few questions.
"Jaime," the social worker said to the boy. "Meet your dad. Pete Wentz."
The kid looked up at me quickly and then back down at his feet.
"Hey, kid," I said, hoping to elicit some response from him.
"Hey," he said shortly.
"Well," the social worker said brightly. "We can either leave you two to get to know each other here, or you are free to go."
"What do you want to do?" I asked the kid. He shrugged.
"Have you had breakfast?" I asked. He shrugged.
"Sorta," he said.
"Want to go grab a bite before we head home? We can talk in the restaurant."
"I don't care," he said.
I sighed. He wasn't going to make this easy on me. I knew I had to be patient. The kid had just lost his mother. And until two days ago, I hadn't even known he existed. And he hadn't known I did.
"Look, kid," I said. "You gotta give me something here."
"Can we just go?" he asked.
I sighed again.
"Yeah. Let's go. I need a coffee. Let's go grab some breakfast and talk."
He shrugged and got up, moved over to a couple of duffle bags and a backpack and picked them up.
"Let me help you," I said, reaching for one of his bags.
"I got it," he spat at me.
"You don't have to have it on your own," I said, reaching again for one of his duffle bags.
"I said," he grunted, putting both bags over his shoulder. "I got it."
"Fine," I said. "Follow me."
I led the kid down the hall towards the back of the courthouse. I'd parked in the underground parking.
The kid followed behind. We took the elevator down, and out to my car. I unlocked it and opened the trunk.
"Here," I said. "You can put your stuff in here."
Jaime put his two duffle bags into the trunk but hung on to his backpack and brought it in the front seat with him.
I got in behind the driver's seat and started the car. I pulled out onto the street and drove towards home, pulling into an IHOP along the way.
"You like pancakes?" I asked. Jaime shrugged.
I turned off the engine and made to get out of the car. Jaime followed suit.
We went into the restaurant and were seated fairly quickly. Jaime slumped in his seat while the server handed us menus and asked if we wanted coffee.
"Jaime, you want coffee?"
He shook his head.
"A coffee for me, a water for him for now, I guess," I said.
She left two menus on the table and came back with my coffee and Jaime's water.
"I spoke to the funeral home yesterday," I said. "Your mom pre-planned everything. The funeral will be at one tomorrow afternoon. If you want to invite your friends, or anyone, please do. We'll have a reception there, too."
"Fantastic," Jaime mumbled.
"Do you have a suit?" I asked him. He shrugged.
"If you don't, I might have something at home that will fit you," I said.
He didn't say anything.
"Your mom also pre-paid for everything for her funeral."
"Great," Jaime said.
I didn't know what else to say to him.
The server came back and asked if we were ready to place our orders. I ordered pancakes and bacon, and more coffee. Jaime said he wasn't hungry. I shrugged at the waitress.
"Do you need more time with the menu?" I asked.
Jaime shrugged. I could see tears in his eyes.
"I'll leave the menu here," the server said. "If you decide on something, just get my attention, okay hon?"
I thanked the server and looked at the boy across from me. He'd been so confident the other night when he was with his friends trying to steal my hubcaps. Now he looked so lost. I didn't know what to say to him. I knew there was nothing I could say that would make any of this better for him. He'd lost his mom. His entire world had changed in an instant. And he had, seemingly, no idea just how much more his world was about to change.
"So," I said, taking a sip of coffee. "You into sports?"
A shrug.
"What about music? Do you listen to music?"
Another shrug.
"What kind?"
Shrug.
"Did your mom ever get married?"
That got a glare. His eyes were as blue as Tanya's had been.
"I'll take that as a no," I said. He rolled his eyes.
"What about school? Do you like it?"
He rolled his eyes again.
"Come on, kid. You gotta give me something."
"I don't gotta give you anything. I don't owe you a thing," he spat at me, and slumped lower in his seat.