Closing Time || Open Para
The loud chattering of the pizza parlor’s customers hushed to a dull roar as the clock ticked away. Pete had decided to spend the majority of his night there, seeing as his homework was done and the dorm was occupied. He casually sketched the remainder of a building outside his window and sipped at his Beam Cola. He really didn’t understand why he still drank that crap; it practically rotted his teeth with every sip. Still, it was better—and probably safer—than the town’s water.
With a gentle sigh, he moved his gaze from the page he was currently doodling on to the window, making sure his detailing was correct in the place he had been working away at it. After a few careful corrections, he felt satisfied enough with the picture to set his pencil aside and finish off the last of his drink. His eyes moved to the clock to check the time and blinked as he realized he was practically alone in the parlor, save a few people huddled away in the back. They looked rather burly and gave Petey the feeling that they weren’t there for the pepperoni. With a gulp, he stood just in the for the waitress to come over and tell him they were closing. The teen nodded in reply and left the building, eyes moving from side to side then widening as he suddenly realized he was alone and had to walk all the way back to the school by his lonesome.
Petey paused, gulping the fear away before he slowly began to walk in the direction of the school, praying he’d make it there safe and sound.
Larry Romano popped his collar up and grumbled underneath his breath.
“Stupid chain, stupid bike, stupid…”
Today had been a bigger bummer than Peanut had anticipated. The chain on his bike had been snapped in two when he had nearly flipped his bike and landed flat on his ass. Unable to have replace it, he was stuck hoofing it back to campus with a bum bike, pissed and sore. Luckily, it was a simple fix. He just needed to find the parts first.
He caught a glimpse of a familiar pink shirt as he looked up
He had seen that shirt before around the boy’s dormitory but his memory was failing to find a name. Picking up his pace a little, he padded over to the boy with eyes narrowed.
“Oh.” His curiosity waned and his expression softened once he got a good look at him. It was just Pete Kowalski. No one to throw a fuss over. “You’re that one kid who hangs around that creep with the scar.”