Chapter 2: Peter's POV

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

I turn my alarm off and get up. I walk to my bathroom and look up in the mirror. I'm just a kid trying to please everybody at the same time who can't even remember the last time they did something for themselves. But then I think about Wendy. She's the only reason I wake up in the morning. If it wasn't for her, I would be wearing PJ's to school every day.

I still remember the first day I met her. She was trying to climb a tree and she was not doing a very good job at it. Her foot slipped and I caught her, dropped her, flirted with her, helped her up, danced with her, dipped her, almost kissed her, dropped her again, got tackled by her brother, became best friends with her brother, and kissed her hand goodbye. What a day that was.

I turn on the shower and hop in. As the cold water runs down my spine and I shiver. Cold showers always help me think straight.

After ten minutes I get out and walk back into my room. I rummage through my draws and find my good jeans. They are blue denim and somewhat fitting with a small rip at each knee. I slip them on and look in the mirror.

Over the summer my mom got me a gym membership because she got an email from the athletic's director that I was the male athlete of the year. They are announcing the female athlete of the year today. But I have a pretty big guess it's Wendy. She played soccer, volleyball, powderpuff football, softball, swim, water polo, and basketball for the school last year. Not to mention she was on the math, science, and English Olympian teams while she was captain of the debate team.

So, of course, my mom wanted me to look the part. I have been a part of every sports team our school has to offer. I look at my chest. My muscles have become more defined and you can definitely see the muscles in my arms. I look in the mirror as if it were Wendy looking at me. I flex my muscles and make a grunting noise. I try out different poses until I hear a click from a camera behind me.

I spin on my heels and turn to face my sister, who was peeking through a crack on the door, my phone in hand. "JANE! What have I said about coming into my room!"

She giggles and runs to her room. I chase after her and grab her from behind. She giggles and types something into her phone. When I look at her screen I realize she was texting someone. "Jane, who and what did you text."

She shows me the phone and my face turns red with humiliation and anger. She was on my phone and sent it to all my friends on a group chat we had been using for years. "Jane...did you send that to everyone?!" She giggles to me and my answer is clear. All of my friends, boys, and girls, are going to see me checking out my muscles. "Well, there goes my sanity," I say and walk back into my room.

I slip a dark green shirt over my head and go to my drawer of shoes. I'm not sure which pair of vans to wear; I have 7 pairs: black, orange, 2 blue, green, yellow, and brown. I close my eyes and point to a pair and open my eyes. I guess I'm wearing green today.

I put my shoes on and head to the kitchen. As I turn the corner the smell of pancakes and syrup hits me like a brick wall. There my mom is, at the stove, spatula in hand, flipping pancakes. "Mom, I thought you had to go to work today," I said.

My mom and Wendy's mom are work partners. They go to old people's homes and clean them, then they care and cook for them.

She turned towards me and says, "No, Wendy's mother said she would take care of it for a while. Plus I have to drop your father off at the middle school and I want to take you too."

My father was a middle school principal. He loved his job because he loved kids. My father was tall, lean, and fit. Not exactly your average principle. My father, regardless of my being 18, was only thirty-seven. He was twenty-two and my mother was nineteen when he proposed. My mother's parents were not happy about it at first, but they warmed up to my father later.

"That's cool mom, but I think I can walk; Wendy is probably walking anyway. Plus, I'm a senior. If I can't go by myself to school now, how will I do it next year for school."

"That's a good question. But, whose fault is it that their car is in the shop, hmm?" She asked with an evil smirk.

"Mine," I grumble under my breath. I got in a car crash last week that put my car in the shop until tomorrow. It wasn't even that bad, the person in front of me just slammed in front of their brakes for n reason. It was probably my fault for being so close to them anyways. But I would never tell my mom that.

"Okay, then," my mom said, "Now that we've got that settled, hurry up and eat. We need to leave in ten minutes."

I chug down my food and grab my school bags. Once I hop in the car with the rest of my family and we leave. I feel bad cause I usually take Wendy to school as well, but she has been in a few scary car crashes and refuses to get her license. I feel even worse that she was in that car crash with me two tears ago.

I have only seen Wendy cry a few times: small ones like when her grandparents died in a house fire, and when she broke her leg and had to take a season of sports off. But once I saw her cry, like a big cry, where she was sobbing and shaking. It was when I was in my first car crash two years ago. I was at a stop light, and the light turned green for me to turn left. As I started turning, a drunk person ran a red light and the car rammed into mine; sending my flipping and crashing. I broke my leg and was in a coma for a week.

When I woke up my hand felt warm, and when I opened and adjusted my eyes, I saw a petite hand in mine. I looked around me and realized where I was, but I couldn't remember why I was here. I looked back to the small hand, my eyes trailed up the slim and slightly muscular arm, up to the face of a beautiful girl. I couldn't remember her name, but a memory came to me. I was singing happy birthday, and on the cake was the name, Wendy. I looked back to the girl and it was Wendy, my beautiful and wonderful Wendy.

"Wendy," I breathed out her name as a silent prayer. She bolted awake and looked around the room before her eyes landed on mine. Her makeup was messed up, and I'm guessing her hair was a mess too cause it was in a sloppy bun. You could see the trails the tears left down her cheeks, you could see the dark rings under her eyes, you could see how her beautiful blue eyes were surrounded by red. And you could see the cuts and bruises up her arms and legs, and how she had a cut right above her right eyebrow, and where a bruise ran from her collarbone to right behind her ear.

As I looked back into her eyes, I saw fresh tears rolling down her face as she stared at me. I wanted to hug her, to hold her in my arms, to take away the pain her eyes told me were there. But she stayed in place, not moving a muscle. She wiped away her tears and said with a shaky voice, "I'll let the doctors know you're awake."

She then bolted out of the room like she couldn't stand the sight of me. I look back at her shape; she looked awful. From her bruises, to cuts, to messy hair and makeup.

And I let the floodgates open. I felt the hot tears pouring down my face and hit my arms. I let Wendy down and because of me, she was hurt. I closed my eyes as I heard the doctors rush in.

"Son, are you in any pain," one of them asked me. I could only shake my head no as I couldn't trust myself to speak. After going through dozens of tests, they sent me off to bed. I couldn't sleep. Not when Wendy was hurt. I grabbed my phone my mom brought me and opened it up. I went straight to my text messages, seeing there were hundreds from people wishing me a fast recovery. But I went straight to Wendy's name and texted her.

Are you ok? I wrote. I sent it and she replied almost instantly.

I'll live. What about you. They said you broke your leg and you were out for a whole week. Are you in any pain? If you are I can get the doctors, She replied. I almost laughed at her concern for my being. But then her words sunk in. I can get the doctors...

Are you still here?! I said.

Maybe...:l Did you really expect me to leave you here by yourself. Plus, Tink is covering for me. My parents think I'm at her house...and she knows I'm here.

Okay, now I laugh. Wendy wasn't one to sneak out, but she would do anything to make sure her friends were okay.

Where are you? I wrote.

"Right outside your door," I heard a female voice say. I jumped out of my skin she scared me so much. Wendy walked in laughing and came over to sit on the vacant bed next to me. Once she took a good look at me and her laughter stopped. "I thought it would be easier to text you then talk in person, I guess I was right."

She gave me a look that said it all. She had been crying again, and she started hyperventilating. "I woke up after two days, and they said you still hadn't woken up yet. As soon as I got discharged the next day, I ran over here, and here you were, completely out of it. You had cuts and bruises everywhere and they said you would be out for sports the rest of the semester. They said you might have some brain damage and that you might not remember things, people, school, your name, or...or me." She said and started crying again. She looked down for a few moments before looking back to me; she looked broken.

I opened my arms and she flew right in. She was my best friend, she was the only girl I would ever consider even consider touching. She latched her arms around my neck, shoved her face in the crook of my shoulder, and pulled her legs into my lap. after a while she was still hyperventilating like crazy, but she stopped sobbing. But I still felt the tears stream down her face and onto my shoulder. Instinct took over and I started to rub what I hoped was soothing circles on her back.

After a few more minutes I took her shoulders and slowly pushed her back so I could get a better look at her. She still had tears streaming down her face that I wiped away with my thumb. "Wendy, I'm not going anywhere. I remember everything," I rested my forehead on hers and closed my eyes, "And I'm sorry you had to go through that. Trust me, it'll take a little more than that for me to go down."

My mom dropped me off at school and I walked over to my usual spot in the courtyard where I saw Tootles, Nibs, and John. "John," I said, "where is Wendy?"

"My mom let her sleep in a little extra. Plus, I had an interview with Harvard earlier."