He looked angry even as he slept, Pete I mean. He is my best friend, no my brother, but he can get on my nerves someti… okay most of the time. Here is his latest entrance into my room…

Thump!

"Pete? What the fuck, man? Why are you here" I asked jumping up from my bed where I had been sleeping.

"Why d'you live on like the highest fucking floor?" he speech was slurred and he smelled of beer.

"Shhhhh! My parents are down the hall!" I whisper shouted.

"Okay." He garbled rolling over on my bed.

"Dude, your shit faced." I shook my head.

He mumbled something along the lines of "party…don't… Andy." I knew what that meant though he'd gone to a party, gotten trashed, and decided to crash with me because he'd promised Andy he wouldn't drink so much.

"Pete, you can't stay here. My parents will flip!" I ran my fingers through my hair.

"Please, Joe, I can't go home." He was already falling asleep in my bed.

"No, Peter, you have to own up. We all care way to much about you to go through this again." I knew he was asleep which is the only reason I had the guts to say that. "Tell your parents you have a problem they'll understand." I slipped his shoes off and removed his hat and sweatshirt. "If you don't tell them Andy and I will." I laid down next him, my bed scarcely big enough for both of us. He stirred slightly putting his head on my arm, and mumbled something incoherently…

"NO! NO! STOP! HELP!" he screamed thrashing around wildly.

"Pete, sh! I'm here! I'll always be here. Shhhh." I hushed him, wrapping my arms around him, as he forced his eyes open panting.

"Joe?" he leaned against me, going limp.

"Yeah, Pete?"

"Good," he hugged me back his voice shaking as much as his body. "Good, you're here. Someone's here."

"'The nightmare' again?" I asked saying the all to familiar phrase

"Yes. It's always worse when I drink." The nightmare seemed to have sobered him up, at least.

"Then why do you do it?" I snapped pulling away.

"You do it too!" he curled up hugging his knees. "You've done worse!"

"I've never drank myself sick and then proceeded to make out with everyone in the room, Peter! I draw the line!" I hissed. My mind knew I shouldn't hit so low as his sexuality, but he had to stop and think sometime.

"I know." He said self loathingly. "But do you know that feeling? Right before you reach your limit? That numbness?"

"Yeah? Why?" I hated that empty numb feeling, which is why I always stopped. As I thought of this I cocked my head, looking at the part of his face that wasn't covered by dark hair.

"That's honestly the best I remember feeling, like, ever." I wrapped my arms around him once more as his voice cracked. "My limit just seems to be getting farther and farther away." I knew by his voice he was crying, that's when my heart broke.

Pete had been crying more and more often lately. Probably just stress, or something, but I wasn't sure. Pete had been doing less and less; he had quit soccer, stopped giving Andy and me the lyrics he wrote, he spent days without anyone hearing from him, but the worst had been the lashing out. It started out simple, a snide remark that was meaner than he usually made his jokes; then things like yelling at us, about the dumbest things; and now it was this, drinking, Pete hadn't been a heavy drinker, like me he new his limits, but it seemed more and more he had been pushing those limits, testing the waters beyond the realm of a 15 year olds knowledge.

I just hoped he didn't do something dumb, like getting in the car with his drunk 'friends'. They didn't seem like his friends though, they didn't care for him the way Andy and I did.

I looked at him wondering if I should wake him. He was scratched and bruised; he must've climbed the tree outside of my window. We had climbed that tree so many times he could always do it, even when he was drunk.

"Pete?" I shook him slightly.

"Mmphhh." He mumbled.

"You awake, man?" I asked looking at his face.

"No." he pulled my blanket over his head.

"School today." I grabbed my homework from my nightstand and stuffed it into my bag.

"I don't have my shit." His voice was muffled.

"We can get it." I frowned at the bad excuse.

"How?" he had sat up at least.

"Andy's mom on her way to work said she'd pick us up." I grabbed some clothes and threw them at him. "Borrow these."

He put them on with little complaint, though I did hear him murmur how I was taller than him.

"Like three inches! They'll fit, Pete! It's your own fault you're hung over. Now get dressed."

"Fine." He grabbed the clothes and changed. Pete was a lot of things, but modest towards his friends was not one of them.

My head felt like it had been run over. Being hit in the head with a belt didn't help.

"Ouch!" I rubbed my head as Joe flung clothes at me.

"Sorry." I looked at the belt. Too big. I hate being skinnier than all my friends. All of my friends are pretty skinny, though they say I take it to a new level. I wrapped it around my waist, and tightened it till it fit perfectly, then poked a new hole in the soft, worn leather. Joe wouldn't notice he never does.

"Time?" I sniffed my hoodie, and decided to borrow one of Joe's. Somehow I don't think the school would be to happy if I showed up smelling like beer and Jack Daniel's.

"Umm…" he looked at the clock. "5-ish."

"What kind of 5-ish?" I smirked raising an eyebrow.

"5:10."

"Thank you! Was that so hard?" He rolled his eyes.

"You smell like happy hour." Joe grinned as he passed me to get his bag.

"I'll take a shower." I noticed it too, now. It was faint, but distinct.

"A short one!"

"Okay, okay! Don't worry Mrs. Trohman I won't be late!" I let a grin slide on my face for the first time in what felt like forever.

The water fell smoothly on my back soothing my aching hung over muscles. I never had a full-blown hangover it was always a few things. a headache, sore body, exhaustion. Just like now, my head hurt and I was achy, maybe more tired than usual but I'd had a late night, but not much else. I could probably just hold my liquor well.

After I'd cleaned off I grabbed the towel Joe had thrown in when I had been thinking about my hangover. Then I got dressed in the clothes Joe had lent me. All together I got together pretty quickly; dressed, undressed, showered, dried, dressed, brushed my hair, rinsed my mouth with mouth wash like a hundred times, and walked down to meet Joe in the hall.

"'Bout time." He smirked from the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh, c'mon that was quick." I shook my head.

"Sure, for you. Breakfast?" he offered me a muffin he'd probably taken while I was in the shower.

"No." I think I would throw up if I ate something at 5:50 in the fucking morning after a night of drinking. No scratch that I know I'd throw up. I grimaced at that thought.

"Okay, but, Pete, you have to eat something to help get the alcohol out of your system." He whispered meaning his parents were up.

"Joseph, who are you talking to?" his mother asked from the kitchen.

"Pete, he came to see if I wanted to walk to school with him."

"I thought you were getting a ride with that Andy." A pretty, middle-aged woman walked in from a doorway down the hall.

"I am, Pete, didn't know."

"Hi, Mrs. Trohman." I made sure not to breathe on her in case my breath still reeked of last night.

"Hello, Peter, what have you been up to? How's soccer?" she looked at me as if she was interested. I hate small talk. No one wants to engage in small talk! Why do it?

"I quit. Focusing on music." I could see her glance at Joe before speaking.

"Yes, well, you should still stay active." I heard her bite back a lecture. Fuck that I thought, though I heard myself say something about 'not dreaming of becoming lazy' she smiled at that one. I heard a knock at the door.

"Hey, Andy." Joe smiled. "Okay if Pete comes."

"And if I said no?"

"I would be horribly crushed!" I pouted.

"Yeah sure, Pete, you can come." He laughed.

"No don't do me any favors." I said sarcastically.

"You three should get to school." Joe's mom interrupted.

"Okay. Bye, mom!" Joe pulled me out the door.