Ah! I've been tagged in something! Thanks @doityourselfbombs for challenging me to this prompt - you're on!
RULES: You will be given a word, then you share an excerpt from your WIP(s) that start with each letter of your word.
“Goodnight, Garraty.” He retreats back down the path.
“Wait, where do you live?” Ray calls after him. Check mate. Pete turns back around mid-walk to face him.
“Miles,” he calls out. “I bet Art’s back by now. I’ll tell Hank you made it back.”
Whatever ends up happening with Ray - friends, not friends, more than friends, strangers - Pete knows a slam-dunk move when he makes one. And that feels good as hell.
“Ray Garraty,” he says. “I heard you came by my station yesterday.”
Ray stabs at his pasta. “YOUR station, huh?” he teases, not looking up from his plate.
“It is when I’m spinnin’ for the day. You lookin’ to get involved?” He fights the urge to squirm in his chair when Ray finally looks back at him.
Big, stupid brown eyes.
“Ouch,” Art said, faking a shot through the heart. “And I thought I’d been a pretty nice guy, too.”
“No, it’s not that, I just thought…” Pete glances at Art’s rosary, which sits coiled on his bedside table. Art follows his eyes, and just like that - clarity.
“Pete, that ain’t nothin’ more than faith. Really. I been goin’ to church since I was little. It’s nice to believe in God. But it’s also nice to believe in people,” Art insists. “I don’t think he’d have gone to the trouble of makin’ us just to hate us for lovin’ each other. Do you?”
When it comes to music, Pete has always taken pride in his ability to remain completely and undeniably focused. The moment he lays his hands on a guitar, he takes up residence somewhere else entirely. Never rattled by anything. Not teachers at a school concert, not classmates at a talent show. Not even Amos.
But now, he feels the weight of the guitar strap around his neck. He has to slow his breathing to steady his voice. His hands shake as he runs his fingers along the strings.
He’s never played in front of Ray. And with him sitting just feet away, Pete can’t just be good. He has to be great. He has to be perfect.
I unfortunately do not know who to tag because I do not know anyone, so if anyone who reads this writes, please feel free to join in!!!
P.S. These excerpts are part of this fic! I'm about halfway through right now!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/76473506/chapters/200129711