Weekends are always a well deserved break from school, especially when you have tests in half of all your classes. Why teachers feel as though it's necessary to give a test on a Friday of all days is a complete mystery, but there's nothing anyone can do about that anyway.

Pete made a habit out of stopping Patrick in the student parking lot and asking if he needed a ride home. He never really needed a ride but he liked going with Pete all the same, and it sure as hell beat walking. The same routine had occurred today as well, and the two sat in comfortable silence as Pete drove them to their apartment building. It wasn't until they parted ways that Patrick remembered he was supposed to ask Pete about his Spring Break plans. He mentally slapped himself in the face and prepared himself to walk back out into the hall and knock on Pete's door as he dropped his things off.

He put his bookbag in his room and called out for his mom, not getting a response in return. She usually leaves a note somewhere, always in a different place than before. It made Patrick feel like he was on a scavenger hunt whenever he went looking for his mother's handwriting on a yellow post-it. He finally finds it stuck to one of the cabinets above the stove, taking it down and reading what's on it.

Patrick,
Working late, I'll be home before 11. There's leftovers in the fridge but if you want something else there's money on the table for take-out or whatever. Love you.
-Mom

He sighed as he read the last few words. His mom was never home as much as she used to be, not since his dad passed. But now she's so deep in her work that she barely ever has time to sleep before she has to leave again. It was rare for her to get a day off, let alone even see Patrick when he got home from school. She was always gone by then. Patrick couldn't complain too much though since she provided their only source of income. But a free day every now and then wouldn't hurt.

Patrick balled the note up and threw it away before grabbing his house keys and stepping out, making his way down the hall to Pete's apartment. He knocks on the door but knows Pete couldn't possibly hear him over the music he was blasting, so he bangs his fist against it instead. The music lowers and Patrick can hear Pete muttering on the other side.

"Mrs. Bartlett, you really need to learn to appreciate System Of A- oh." Pete yanked the door open, only to realize that Mrs. Bartlett --his lovely, sweet, and kind of annoying neighbor-- wasn't at his door again with a complaint about the music he knows he plays way too loudly. It was only Patrick. "I thought you were an old lady." He looked behind and around Patrick to make sure said old lady wasn't present.

"She's probably out." Patrick rocked back on his heels. "Guess you got on Mrs. Bartlett's bad side, huh?"

"Only when I play my music. The rest of the time she's sweet enough to rot my teeth."

"Yeah, she tends to... do that." It was at this moment that Patrick noticed Pete was wearing a minimal amount of clothing, which caught him by surprise because whenever Patrick saw him at school he'd wear nothing but long sleeves and jackets. But this was different. Pete wasn't wearing a shirt at all, covered only by the tattoos on his skin.

Patrick's eyes begin to roam over Pete's bare torso, licking his suddenly dry lips and awkwardly stuffing his suddenly perspiring hands into his suddenly welcoming pockets. He glances up at Pete, who was looking back at him with a slight smirk on his face, before blushing furiously and setting his gaze on the floor below him.

"Wanna come in?" Pete asks, but doesn't wait for an answer. He walks away from the door, leaving it open as an invitation. Patrick eventually steps inside and shuts the door behind him. "So, what brings you by?"

"Oh, uh," Patrick nearly forgot why he showed up in the first place. "I actually wanted to ask you something."

Pete plopped down on his couch, kicking his sock covered feet up onto the disorderly coffee table. He pats the cushion next to him, smiling kindly as Patrick took a seat beside him. "What'd you wanna ask me?"

Patrick takes a breath, wanting to just get it done and over with. He recited the question in his head several times before he got there so everything should be fine. "Are you doing anything, like, for Spring Break?" Not exactly how he wanted to word it but the point has been made so all is good.

Pete gave it some thought but seemed to come up with nothing. "Hm, don't think so. Probably just the usual watching TV and eating cereal. Why?"

"Well, Joe and I usually invite a few friends to go with us to Cedar Field and- um, do you wanna... go?"

"...Seriously?"

Patrick nodded. "We've got plenty of space and everything, you should definitely come with- well, if you want to."

A look of, what could be called, disbelief was in Pete's eyes as he searched Patrick's own. Pete never got invited to do anything. He was always too busy locking himself away and listening to music to care or even want to be asked to hang out with anyone. But this is Patrick we're talking about and anywhere Patrick was, is where Pete wanted to be.

"Sure, 'Trick. I'd love to."

Patrick didn't bat an eye at the new nickname, it was a sprinkled cupcake compared to other things he's been called. He was just really happy that Pete agreed to tag along. The bright smile that spread across his face proved it, and it was also quite contagious because Pete smiled back thinking that this kid couldn't possibly be real.