{Bert}I'm too young{Characters}to worry{McCracken}

Third person's POV
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"Yeah Pete, I'll be at Ben and Bethy's in a couple hours." Halle said as she zipped her bag closed.
"Okay... I wish you weren't leaving. Do you need a ride?" He asked with too much enthusiasm.
Halle sighed deeply. "No. I don't need a ride. As I've said, Bethy's going to be here soon. I wish I wasn't leaving either. This better then Venezuela, though, isn't it?"
"Gee, I dunno Halls. We can get pretty sick of you...."
"Pete!"
"I'm kidding! Duh, this is wayy better." He laughed.
"I think I hear Bethy's car. I better go."
"Okay. Bye Halls!"
"Wait. Call Martin and tell him give me my damned DVD back. He's had it forever, I'm beging to wonder what he's doing with it."
"Ooh, what movie?" Pete giggled.
"'Dude Where's My Car'."
"Ohmygawd! Can I borrow it?"
"Peterr...."
"Only joking. I'll call him, then. Love you Halle."
"Ah! I hear her car. You too, Peen."
"Don't call me that!" He said, but she'd already hung up.
Halle loves those guys to death. On her first day to their high school they welcomed her to their group; the three of them were instant best friends. They can't imagine life without each other. People liked to talk crap about Pete, so Halle got in a lot of fights. Halle got home schooled, and graduated at age 16.
She takes it as an extra two years to decide what she's going to do with her life.
Halle slung the yellow duffel over her shoulder and her steps echoed as she ran down the stairs of her now empty house. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw, out the window, who emerged from Beth's car. The blond sprinted up the stairs once more and locked herself in the bathroom. She whipped out her phone and did speed dial number three.
Halle stepped into the shower and slid down the porcelain wall into the tub. After three rings she heard the driver of the Mustang pounding on the front door. Halle poked her head outside the shower curtain. The bathroom door is still locked. She sat back down and Beth had answered.
"Hey Halls. You on your way?" She over-enthusiastically asked.
"No," Halle whisper-shouted, "Why in God's name would you send him?"
"I didn't. He volunteered--even paid for gas!"
"You see? This is why he scares the living shit out of me."
"'They said all teenagers scare, the living shit out of me. They could care less, as long as someone'll bleed. So darken your clothes, or strike a violent pose. Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me...'" Beth sang. "Yeah that really sucks for you, man. That you have to live with us. Mom and Dad can get so... parent-ish. We're glad to help, though."
"Nice, Bethy. Quoting 'Teenagers' there?" Halle giggled, still whispering since she heard the driver had let himself in, and was walking through the house.
"You know it. I'll see you and Bert in a while, love."
"Bethy, no, wait!" But she'd already hung up.
Halle pocketed her phone when she heard him walking up the stairs. He tripped on his own feet, laughed at himself, and ran the rest of the way up. "Hey punk, where are you?" He sang, making his voice echo. Halle didn't want to leave the bathroom, so she didn't say anything. The bathroom made her feel safe.
She was afraid of him because of his obscene mood swings, his daily rituals, his crazy way of speaking, and he's always touching people.... The list goes on. They say that's just how he is. And sometimes the way he spoke could be pretty funny, when he was kidding around. It was still creepy though. Well, that's what Halle thought she should tell herself.
"Halle, you in there?" Bert said to the bathroom door, knocking gently. "Yeah," she sighed, opening it. She started to walk out, but Bert wouldn't have that. He pushed her back into the bathroom, not hard but just enough. And he locked the door behind him.