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Peter Spankoffski knows a lot of things.
He knew the in’s and outs of one of the most fundamental scientific disciplines, physics. He knew he was in love with his fiancée, Stephanie Lauter.
He knew he wanted to make a change in the world.
He knew he missed his friends.
He knew he was no longer little Micro Peter. Steph had made sure he’d have much more confidence than that. Pete knew he didn’t have to feel so small. Afterall, he’d done good for himself. Steph and him decided it was best to get out of Hatchfield as soon they graduated. There was too many memories there, too much pain. He’d gotten into his number one school, University of Michigan, to get a four year degree in Physics, minoring in teaching. This is how he’d make a difference. No teenager would have to feel like they’re as alone as he was in highschool. Steph had been an angel through out it, going to school in Illinois. It didn’t matter, they made it out with late night phone calls, Pete assuring Steph that she was smart enough for this. She always was.
Now at twenty-two, the pair had finally finished college. Driving four hours just to watch the other graduate. Pete considered himself pretty lucky, but he was struggling knowing how to go from here. Thankfully, his favorite professor had promised to use his connections to find him a steady place for work, but he never expected this.
So, there Pete sat, nervous twisting the engagement ring Steph had proposed with. The latter sitting across from him at the small dinner the two had stopped at during their little road trip to celebrate graduating. She was beautiful to him, even if she was just reading the dingy menu. But really, there wasn’t time to think of his fiancée’s beauty. Not with his fucking job offer.
“Pete, you’re looking at that ring like it killed a puppy.” She snarked.
Her light eyes drifting from the menu to Pete, a teasing smile on her face, slowly falling off her face as she actually got a good look on him.
“And you’re shaking- You know, we could order now if your blood sugar is low, I probably won’t enjoy whatever I get at this shitty place.”
“No, no. I’m okay, you pick out what you want.”
Take a breath, Pete had to remind himself. He’s gonna marry this girl, he has to be honest with her.
“I just got this email from my professor. You remember Mr. Carlozzi?”
Steph pushed her hair behind her ear in thought, before nodding.
“Yeah, that asshole who taught physics, took him 11th grade. He was a bitch, took out all his emotions from the divorce on us.”
Pete snorted at the comment, his eyes crinkling. He was a bitch. Ruth and Pete had the class together. He’d would have the fit over the simplest things. Nonetheless, he couldn’t keep secrets from Steph very long. So, he’d have to rip it off like a bandage. Pete took a deep breath, slowing counting to three in his head before speaking.
“Yeah, well he’s retiring. I got an email from my professor, the one who wanted to help me find something steady. He told them about me and my grades. They uh- kinda want me to replace him.” He admitted, looking at Steph to gauge a reaction from her. Hatchfield was hard for him, but he knew that it was hard for her too.
She paused, putting down the thin paper menu, going quiet as she considered this.
“So like, that means moving back to Hatchfield?”
He nodded softly, reaching his hand across of the table, resting it on top of Steph’s, finding his eyes transfixed on the chipped black nail polish on her nails.
“Yeah, it would mean that. You know, I’m not gonna accept it if you don’t want me to.” He assured, still not sure what Steph was thinking. At least she seemed to relax with the feeling of Pete’s hand on top of hers.
“Alright. Let me ask you this, do you want the job?”
Now, it was Pete’s turn to pause. Hatchfield had brought him nothing but pain and therapy bills. He lost his brother there. He lost his closest friends there. He nearly lost his sanity. For fuck’s sake, he almost died. But. Hatchfield had brought him tap lessons where he had met a certain little redhead girl. It had given him another friend in seventh grade, one he could call late into the night, listening to ramblings of some stupid show. It had got him Steph.
So, Pete spoke. “I think so. Maybe it’s stupid, but I want to make a difference there. I don’t like the idea of kids being scared to walk through the hallways. Maybe I could actually do something. Take down the system inside.”
It was only after finishing did he became aware of Steph running circles into the back of his hand.
“I’m okay with it. I don’t know what I wanna do yet, but I know I wanna do it with you.” She comforted, doing the thing with her voice to make her sound more comforting. Pete smiled at her, feeling like a small weight was lifted off his shoulders, but placed on his chest instead. They could do this, together.
—
Two months and a lot of paperwork later, Pete had officially taken the job, and Steph and he had found a small house to rent, as far away from the Wayland house as they could live. It was decent enough, lots of birds to listen to on quiet nights. It was something Pete could enjoy while slipping a mug of hot chocolate after being woken up by nightmares. They were holding up decently enough, Steph deciding to get a job at Starbucks as she figured out what to do. Mentally, it was weird to be in a place that had made such a mess of their lives, but they were here to pick up the pieces.
Today is finally the day Pete got to start teaching. Or not really. Technically, he was only setting up his classroom, then the next couple of days were meetings. Only then would he be teaching, but it didn’t matter too much. A look at himself in the mirror, he straightened his hair. Steph snuck up behind him, hugging Pete from behind. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Pete closed his eyes, enjoying the moment, before kissing Steph’s cheek.
“I love you.”
Steph smiled, releasing Pete from her arms.
“I love you too, dork. Knock them dead.”
He laughed, certainly hoping they didn’t knock anybody dead again in this town. Grabbing his bag, he was out of the door, and off to the place he never thought he’d come back to. Hatchfield High.
—
Just focus on one task at a time. Park the car. Turn off the wipers. Twist the keys, and put them in his pocket. Grab his bag. Unbuckle. Open the door and step out and Jesus Christ- The building was smaller than he remembered. He was vaguely aware that he was getting soaked by the rain, but it wasn’t a concern. The statue of Zeke right in front of the school called to him, reminding him of what he had lost, who he had failed. Pete slung his bag over his shoulder, walking towards the shaped grey stone.
Up close, Pete could let his eyes drift over the statue. The paint was flaky, having to be painted over everything Clivesdale spray-painted the damn thing. He almost expected Zeke to start moving, telling him about his day, and how he didn’t trip this time at the last game.
It didn’t.
It wasn’t gonna start moving because it’s an it. An object. God, Pete can be so damn stupid. Richie was dead. So was Ruth. Ted was probably dead. In the ground, six feet under, probably forgotten by this stupid town. Pete needs to move on already. Besides it was a silly thought, and he was getting paid to stand in the rain and stare at stone. Not a great way to start employment. Reminding himself to get a grip, he walked to the looming doors of the school. Any tears that may have escaped from his eyes were gone with the rain.
Stepping inside he was greeted with the smell of dusty school air. The lights were dimly on, classrooms open, and forms of teachers inside, but they made no noise. Pete was aware of his feet moving, already knowing where his classroom would be. It felt more like a dream, he was not controlling his actions, as if he was simply watching himself go through life. Finally, he made it. Room 119. The keys to the door were already in it the knob, waiting to be twisted and used. He can do this. He has to do this. For Steph. For the students. For the contract he already signed to work. With a deep breath, Pete opened the door to greet the dark classroom that would be his.
It wasn’t anything crazy, per se. Just looked like a more empty than normal classroom. God, it was dark in there though, so dark Pete almost thought he was seeing students sitting down in there. Two students. He gulped, looking away from the shadows and flipping on the lights. There was nothing there. Maybe this job was affecting him more than he thought it would. No matter, he’s already here. Might as well set up.
Pete walked to the dusty desk, blowing off the dust before setting his bag down. He was right, it was pretty empty in here. Just his desk, desks for the students, counters, and an empty book self. No matter, he had plenty of time to spice it up. Steph would gladly come in and help decorate, as she insisted he had a horrible taste. Unzipping his bag, Pete grabbed his notepad, ready to write down what he needed to fill up the room, trying to ignore the steady sense of dread filling up his lungs. The pressure he had felt on his chest only increased. He reached for his pen, trying to think, but his mind was clouded. Why can’t he just think? It’s such an easy task-
Pete shot up, straightening his posture, feeling as if his shoulder had been dunked in ice water. Instinctually, he placed his hand on his shoulder, only for his hand to meet the touch of a freezing feeling of another hand. Peter spun around, knocking himself onto the desk in the progress, eyes going wide as they met brown eyes he never thought he’d see again.
“Well geez Pete, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” A voice he’d heard a million times before spoke. She could only watch as Pete dropped to the floor, banging his head on the desk as he went down.
Wow, did she really get that ugly in death?