Chapter Text
The air smelled fresh, clean, and slightly like someone had just cut the grass on the nearby sidewalk beyond the playground. Fifth grade was perfect. The sun was warm and comforting on your face as you swung your legs back and forth on the swing, making yourself go higher and higher.
Your best friend was on the swing next to you and you two were talking about the new episode of your favorite cartoon that was going to air on TV that night. Having a conversation while swinging back and forth was actually pretty hard.
"HEY! Get off the swing! You've been on for over ten minutes!"
An annoying voice disturbed you and your friend from your discussion. You let your feet drag on the ground to make the swing come to a stop.
Turning around, you saw Bill Dickey and his silly little posse of friends. They were kind of annoying to everyone, but you couldn't really take them seriously. They always had you giggling under your breath.
"Is there a rule that says we only get ten minutes?" your friend challenged him, quirking a sassy eyebrow and then looking over at you.
"No...but...other people deserve to get on!" He crossed his arms, shouting in your direction.
"Well maybe you should've gotten here before us then," your friend crossed her arms as well, mirroring him.
"Its okay, you can have my swing, I kinda wanna go do something else anyway." You smiled at your friend and stood up.
The group of boys just stood there and watched you, Bill looking semi dumbfounded at how easy it was to get you off the swing.
He shook it off quickly, "About time!"
Your friend followed behind you as you walked over to the monkey bars.
Pete sat down on the swing next to Bill and gave him a look.
"What?" Bill asked him, confused.
Pete shook his head, "That one girls nice. You shouldn't be so mean."
"Don't tell me you like her or something!"
Pete didn't say anything.
"No...Pete, you know girls are the worst! Besides, she always laughs at us!"
Pete just pulled the brim of his hat down so it covered his face more. He felt embarrassed.
"Whatever."
Meanwhile, you and your friend had already moved on from talking about how ridiculous they were.
You climbed up the tiny ladder to the monkey bars and stood there, looking at the ledge across from you on the opposite end.
Your friend called out your name from behind you, "Do you think you can make it to the 4th bar this time?!"
You smiled, thinking to yourself. Maybe. It seemed close enough.
"Yeah! Probably!" You called back, and prepared yourself to jump.
You bent your knees and tried to give yourself as much momentum as possible by swinging your arms.
You lept from the top rung of the ladder and reached your arms far out in front of you. You usually jumped and could reach the third bar with no issue, so how hard could it be to just skip one more?
It all went in slow motion as you watched your fingers brush past each bar.
One.
Two.
Three.
Oh no.
Gravity called to you and started pulling you back down to the ground, and your fingertips just barely grazed the fourth bar.
Suddenly, your chin smashed into the ledge on the other end of the bars and your entire head buzzed and vibrated as your teeth ground into eachother.
You pulled yourself up, an overwhelming pain filling your mouth and your tongue stinging like someone had just stuck it with a bunch of tiny needles.
You reached your fingers up to your mouth and touched them carefully to your front teeth. When you pulled them back to look, they were covered in blood.
Your heart sank and you began screaming and running back towards the school so you could get inside to the nurse.
"HELMPME! MM'BLEEDING!" you sobbed, sprinting past your friend and a bunch of kids, including Bill and the others.
You made the mistake of touching your mouth again, and when you looked at your hands they were covered in more blood than before.
Your mind raced and the world spun around you as you suddenly felt yourself become faint. Your legs gave out beneath you.
You collpased on the ground face down, dizzy and mouth full of blood. It tasted gross. Like metal. You felt an aggressive wave of nausea wash over you.
Pete ran over to you, leaving Bill and the others behind to just stare in shock and confusion.
He shoved you over onto your back and looked down at you.
Truthfully, this action came from two places. First, obviously, he did care for you because he found you to be one of the sweeter girls in class that didn't outright bully him.
Second, though, was because of pure fascination. He heard "bleeding" and came running, like a moth to a flame. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest over thinking like that while you were in this state, but he couldn't help it.
He'd gotten more into horror over the past couple of months despite still being kind of young for it, and it had been consuming his thoughts most of the time. He wanted to know what you looked like bleeding.
He called your name to you and watched your eyes flutter open and closed repeatedly as you struggled to keep yourself conscious.
Looking at you, he thought you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Your skin was flushed, tears streaming down your face and staining your cheeks, and blood all over your lips.
He touched them and gently tried to open your mouth, getting a better view of all the blood. He feared never being able to see you this way again.
Your eyes fluttered open for just long enough to see this look of curiosity and adoration all over his face. It sweetened the moment a little, making the blood in your mouth almost taste a little bit saccharine.
"WHATS GOING ON?!" one of the recess monitors ran over and grabbed Pete by his shoulder, moving him away from you.
"She said she's bleedin, we gotta get her to the nurse!" He shouted back.
Your friend finally ran over and knelt down next to you, sheer horror all over her face at the sight of you.
She whispered your name and began crying.
Neither of you really did well with blood and stuff. So this was a pure nightmare.
The monitor picked up your delicate and dazed body, quickly rushing you to the nurse's office so she could assess your injuries.
By the time you got there, you had woken up more and began to calm down very slightly. The nausea had only gotten worse. Swallowing all that blood had upset your stomach even further.
It was sickening to think about so you tried not to.
She had you rinse your mouth out with some cool water until most of the blood was clear, and then your mother came to pick you up and bring you to the doctor.
You almost needed tongue stitches, but you narrowly escaped that torture. Thankfully.
Everyone treated you differently once you came back. Like you were some delicate little flower. Some even made fun of you for being such a big baby and passing out.
But not Pete. It only opened him up more to you. He would ask you about it often, seemingly obsessing over it.
How did it feel when you fell? Did the blood taste that bad? Were you fully unconscious?
It didn't bother you much. You thought he was just concerned, and he was kind of cute. So you happily answered.
After that school year ended, you had gone off to a boarding school for an unrelated reason. Just your parents decision.
Coming back to Eltingville as an adult was very odd after having been gone so long. Things seemed more sad, and less alive. Maybe it was just part of growing up and seeing the world differently.
You had thought about Pete often during your time away. You wondered if he missed you.
He did. But he didn't tell any of the other boys that. Even after school ended, he still thought about you and wondered where you went. You had sparked something within him that hadn't really ever gone away.
You finally decided to meet your best friend at a bar. Her idea, not yours.
"It's not just a bar, its a bar restaurant!"
"Okay, but you sat us near the bar," you replied, trying to make her understand your point.
She waved you off, "C'mon, what'd they do to you at that boarding school? You used to be so fun!"
A drunk guy watching sports on one of the bar TV's suddenly shouted very loud and started clapping, his two other friends joining in.
You flinched.
"I guess I picked up some more manners when I was away?" You lied through your teeth. You hadn't. You just didn't really like bars and loud drunk people.
Your food and drinks got to the table and you had to excuse yourself.
"Hurry back, the food is gonna get cold!"
You slipped out the front door and leaned against the wall, sighing.
Pulling a cigarette out of your cute little bag, you quietly lit it and took a drag.
You huffed softly, watching the smoke slowly drift up into the air around you.
"Wow. She smokes?"
A voice so familiar but very new.
You whipped your head around.
You genuinely had no idea who this man was.
The urge to run back inside to safety was clawing at you from the inside, but you fought it. You had some very small inkling that you did actually know him. You needed to remember who this was. You knew it was somewhere in the back of your mind.
He had a slight tan to his skin, scruffy facial hair, and a lot of arm hair. You imagined he was likely covered in hair all over.
Your eyes met his and you squinted slightly, focusing in on his eyes and his unibrow that sat right beneath his backwards cap.
Then it clicked.
He must've noticed the change in expression.
He turned his hat around so the brim was facing forwards, and gave you a smile that seemed sweet but somewhat sly.
The realization smacked you in the face.
"PETE?!" you cried out, dropping your cigarette and leaping forward and wrapping your arms around him.
Possibly a little bit premature, but you were pretty sure it really was him. He hugged you back.
"Y'look good, kid. Didn't know if i'd ever see ya again."
Feeling his chest rumbling against yours as he spoke made you feel something strange. You caught yourself blushing as your eyes watered.
No. No. No. Don't cry.
You pulled away, quickly wiping your eyes and smudging your mascara.
"Kid?! You're only a year older than me!" You giggled, trying to pretend like you weren't fighting back tears.
He shrugged, turning his hat back around and putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans, smirking.
Gosh, he was so cool.
You put your hands over your mouth trying to hide your blushing face and wide smile.
"Whatre you cryin' for?" He teased, clearly knowing why you were so emotional.
"I'm just...I missed you. I didn't know if you were even here anymore."
You let a couple of tears roll down your cheeks.
"Well, I am."
He was just so smug and playful. He must've gotten worse since you left.
"You here to see someone?" He asked you, tilting his head slightly.
He hoped not some guy.
You nodded, telling him it was your best friend.
"Oh yeah, I remember her. an' I also remember that I was the first one to check on you after you fell and bit your tongue open at recess."
You raised an eyebrow at him, "You still remember that?"
He nodded, completely unashamed.
"You shoulda been comin' here to meet me instead."
You stifled a laugh, unsure if he was being completely serious or half joking.
"Sorry...Well, I'm meeting you now I guess?" You looked at him with wide doe eyes.
It felt like someone had just blown a gaping hole through his chest.
He hoped no one took your virginity while you were away at boarding school.
Yeah, that was the thought he was having right now.
He'd lay in bed at night often and wonder if puberty had been kind to you and filled in your most important parts, or if it had messed you up and left you all gross and ugly like some other chicks who weren't so lucky. He liked to imagine the former.
Apparently he was right.
Unbeknownst to you, he had become a huge pervert in the time that you two had been apart. In your mind, he was still sweet little Pete Dinunzio from elementary school.
He wasn't sure if he even wanted to get into the specifics of what he had been doing in the time that you'd disappeared. He kind of wanted to keep his more innocent appearance with you to avoid scaring you off.
The "Sick Mofo" shirt wasnt really helping much, though.
Before you could ask about it, he started speaking again, "You really smoke, huh?"
You sighed a little, "Yeah...believe it or not I actually picked it up while I was gone. Those boarding schools aren't what people say they are. Theres a lot of bad kids there. Sorry if it's weird."
Dammit. She still had that virgin innocence look. He knew it well. He had seen it come & go in multiple women. But now he really was questioning it.
"What, you think I don't smoke too? Don't be sorry, it's hot." He reassured you in his own special Pete way.
The comment caught you off guard.
You leaned forward and hid your face in his chest, laughing nervously, "Don't joke like that, it's weird!"
You knew he wasn't joking.
If it were legal, he probably would've fucked you against the wall right outside this stupid bar restaurant.
Your friend burst through the doors, calling for you.
As soon as she saw the two of you, her face dropped.
Then her eyes narrowed at Pete.
"You."
He put his hands up in defense, backing away from you, still smiling a little bit.
Your friend grabbed your hand, still watching him, "What're you doing here? I don't want you talking to her."
You were overcome with confusion.
"Wait what? What's going on?" You looked back and forth between her and Pete.
"Come on, we're going back inside, the food is getting cold," Your friend ignored your question, trying to pull you inside, but you took your hand away from her.
"Wait! Can you just tell me what's going on? It's Pete from school! Remember?" You motioned to him behind you.
He had this mischievous grin spread across his face.
"Yeah. I do. I know a lot about him. Now let's go inside." She had her hands on her hips.
"But we were talking! Why are you so upset?"
She looked pissed, glaring daggers at him. She pointed a finger in his direction.
"Listen, you fuck. Leave."
He shrugged his shoulders, hands still in his pockets, "S'a public place, hun. I don't gotta go anywhere if I don't wanna."
She made a noise of frustration, slapping her hands against her legs.
"Whatever. Listen, please, just come inside with me before the food goes to waste." She tried reasoning with you one last time.
You looked back at Pete.
You could see the "kicked puppy" look behind his eyes despite the smirk.
You pulled a cigarette out of your bag, along with a pen, and quickly wrote your number on it and handed it to him, trying to be discreet and hiding it from your friend.
"Please call me later," You quietly told him, before disappearing back inside.
Oh he would. He definitely would.