As far as I can tell, Pete's last name has never been revealed. So I've tried to work around that. Please enjoy. Pete is my second favorite character. Even though he barely ever shows up.

Pete fiddled with the keys as he tried to fit them into his rusty bike lock. "Jesus Christ!" He said, kicking the bike angrily. Finally, the lock came free. "Fucking finally." He hopped on his bike and rode of the drive.

"Damn kid!" It was Jimbo, the hunter. "Piss off you conformist!" So where the hell should I go? Pete asked himself. Michael was on some fishing trip with his dad. Pete thought that was fucking hilarious. Henrietta was free, but to be fair, Pete didn't really like her as much as the other goth kids.

Firkle wasn't even able to hang out if he wanted too. His parents don't actually like Pete and the other goth kids, so he would always sneak out to see them when he wasn't at school. Whatever. His parents are fucking conformists anyway.

"Oh shit!" He was suddenly flying through the air, having been knocked off his bike. Pete suddenly hit the ground with a thud. "Jesus Christ."

He didn't feel like moving right now. He groaned and shut his eyes. He tried breathing in and out. It hurt like hell. "Are you ok?"

Oh Jesus. He groaned. Some chick had spotted him, lying on the ground, blood in his mouth, hair and probably other places. Although to be fair, his hair usually looked like it had blood in it. Whatever. "Hey?" Pete groaned. Fuck, he was in a lot of pain. "Oh god! You're hurt! I need to phone an ambulance!

"Hey..." the girl looked over, seemingly amazed he could talk. "What the fuck just happened?" The girl was, to be honest, quite cute. A feeling he didn't like to admit he had. "I think you hit a hole in the road, your tyre looks deflated or something." Pete sat up, feeling dazed. "I've called you an ambulance, you should be ok."

"Great..." Pete took his bike from next to him and looked at it. There was a scratch on the crimson paint now, and his front tyre was deflated. "Fuck sake."

"Are you one of those vampire kids?" This girl was asking for trouble now."No." Pete seethed "Those Vamp kids are fucking conformists. They're just dumb cosplayers. I. Am. A. Goth."

The girl appeared to be very confused by this, but still smiled. "I'm Wendy"

"Great" Pete said, attempting to stand up "Shit! My fucking leg."

"So what's your name?"

"Christ..."

"You aren't the nicest are you?" Pete laughed at the obviousness of this statement. "When's this bloody ambulance getting here?"

"Soon. Pete."

"What?" Pete rolled his eyes. "My name. It's Pete."

"Oh. Right."

"Look! It's the ambulance!" The ambulance parked and 2 men got out. "Fucking finally."

Pete sat in the hospital bed, his leg propped up. "Hey." Pete looked up from his phone to see Michael walking in. "Oh. Hey."

"What the fuck happened?" Pete smiled to himself. Something he rarely did. "I crashed my bike. Then some girl named Wendy called me an ambulance." Michael looked disappointed, like he wanted an amazing story. "Henrietta wanted to see you." Pete groaned. "For fucks sake, don't let her in."

"Whatever dude. See you soon."

Once Pete was finally home, he went upstairs, and went to sleep. Thinking about Wendy. Wow. He was becoming such a conformist.