The Honest Way

“Late homework will be docked marks, so do it tonight,” Mrs. Wick called out as the class scraped their chairs back.

Gerard gathered his books and stood halfway, then paused, looking at Mikey. Mikey still sat there, his knee bouncing, trembling like a volcano about to blow -- or like a kid about to crumble under pressure and blurt out his brother’s secrets.

“C’mon,” Gerard said, nodding his head toward the door, where Bob and Ray had already disappeared. Mikey looked at him, conflicted, not moving from his chair, and still vibrating.

“Mikey,” Gerard said flatly, his eyes harder than before.

Mikey scrunched his eyes.

“Mrs. Wick, wait! I have -- I have to tell you something!”

Gerard sighed and sat back down in his chair, leaning back and clenching his jaw in irritation.

“What is it, Mikey?” she asked.

“Yesterday when I helped you mark papers, I saw the test answer key and I looked at it!”

“Oh,” she said. Her lips pressed thoughtfully, as if she wondered if she was supposed to do something about that or not. “Well...did you copy it down to take home?”

“N--no.”

“Did you tell your brother and his friends what was on it so they would study the right things?”

Mikey glanced at Gerard.

Gerard sighed, waving his hand in a permissive way, giving him the go ahead since he was going to do it anyway. Mikey looked back to Mrs. Wick.

“Y-- yes. Sorry.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have left that answer key out when I had a student left alone in the classroom with it. So, it’s partly my fault. And at least it got them to study,” she sent a look toward Gerard, “so we’ll let it go this time. Thank you for being honest, Mikey.”

Mikey nodded, relieved.

“Thanks, Mrs. Wick.”

“Do your homework, boys,” she reminded again, as they stood up and walked out side by side, Gerard knocking Mikey with his shoulder while slanting him an unimpressed look, and Mikey calling back to her over his shoulder as he caught his balance, “We will!”

Ray and Bob lingered in the hallway.

“Why are you guys so slow?” Bob complained.

“Mikey,” Gerard muttered.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. He didn’t?”

“He did.”

“It worked out okay,” Mikey defended, timidly. “She’s letting us keep our grades.”

“You’re such an idiot, Mikey,” Bob said.

Gerard narrowed his eyes at Bob as Mikey looked at the floor and moved almost imperceptibly behind him, downcast. Bob recognized the glare as the warning that it was and backed off. Gerard didn't let anyone mess with his brother. No matter how much his brother threw him under the bus. His brother was the only family that he had, and when it came down to it, Bob might be his best friend, but he would never be blood. He would never understand Gerard's childhood or share memories of his parents.

Mikey was the only link to that part of his life. When it came down to it, it was them against the world.

He wished that Mikey would realize that.

******

Gerard sat in history class, at the center back, his desk between Frank and Bob. It was the only class that Mikey wasn't in with him, and it was a mixed blessing. He didn’t have to worry about the little spy watching his every move and reporting back to their foster parents, but he worried about Mikey being picked on when Gerard wasn’t around to protect him.

Mikey also helped with the school work.

He would probably be failing if it weren’t for Mikey. The kid spent hours catching him up from work he missed when he skipped classes.

“Man, I really don’t want to do history class. Let’s ditch before Mr. R gets here,” Frank said.

“This is the first day we’ve been here all week,” Gerard snapped, unsympathetic. He couldn’t keep skipping, or another letter would be sent to his foster parents, and he couldn’t intercept all of them. They would eventually make a phone call, and then he’d be fucked.

“Aw, you two having a lover’s spat?” Regan cooed as he walked into the room and across the back, behind them. Gerard automatically leaned forward and turned a little, making his head less available, glaring. He blocked with an arm as Regan took a swipe at him, but Regan used his other hand and hit him, laughing when he made contact in spite of Gerard trying not to let him. “I’ll meet you outside after school and teach you how to fight, okay?”

Gerard shook his head and leaned back in his chair again as Regan went to his own seat in the middle of the room. He knew it wasn’t an offer, it was a threat, and Regan would probably jump him when he was leaving school today, just for fun. He would be forced to defend himself and then he would get in trouble for fighting and his foster parents would call the agency and tell them they couldn’t handle him anymore and he would be placed somewhere else, away from Mikey.

Julia and Dwayne had taken him aside and told him that this was his last chance, that if he made anymore trouble, they wouldn’t put up with him in their house anymore. He told Mikey about it, in an effort to get him to quit bringing all his dirt up to them and getting them pissed at him, but Mikey insisted they were just angry and didn’t mean it, that they would never actually kick Gerard out and were just trying to help him.

Gerard knew better. They had been calm as fuck. They were serious.

Besides, it was only six months until his eighteenth birthday, and then they didn’t get paid to keep him anymore. If they didn’t feel like they had control over him, then they wouldn’t give in to Mikey’s pleas for them to let Gerard stay until he graduated. Mikey was assuming that they would give him what he wanted, which was to have his brother around, because they always gave Mikey what he wanted; he was the angel child. But Mikey was going to find out that there was a limit, and that limit was directly below putting up with Gerard in their house.

If Mikey were here, he would tell Gerard to tell the teacher on Regan. Gerard sighed to himself, having a bad feeling about it, but he had to at least try to be “good,” so that he wouldn't get kicked out and have Mikey upset at him. Everything was always Gerard’s fault, to Mikey. It was like Mikey thought Gerard could control any situation, and so if it went wrong, it must be Gerard’s fault, a choice that Gerard made purposely to screw things up. He didn’t understand Gerard, because Mikey never had the problems that Gerard had. Mikey went to class and got good grades and that just wasn’t Gerard. Gerard went crazy every time he tried to be like his little brother, and he ended up skipping and smoking a lot of pot just to detox from the stress of it. Then he got in trouble.

But if he didn’t act like Mikey now, he was going to lose everything he had, little as it was. He knew Mikey would be upset at him if he let it happen.

“Fuck,” he muttered, then got up and trudged down the aisle between desks to get to Mr. R’s desk, where the man had just walked in and had taken a seat, organizing papers.

He looked up at Gerard, tilting his head down slightly and looking over the rims of his glasses, and he didn’t look impressed to get a visit from his worst student.

“Yes, Mr. Way?” he asked flatly. “Here to ask for another extension? The answer is no. Hand it in today, or fail it.”

“That’s not what I’m here about.”

He resisted looking back toward Regan, feeling prickles between his shoulder blades, keeping his voice down and hoping the boy wouldn’t hear him. Hoping that nobody would hear him. He felt vulnerable.

“I just got threatened and I think I’m going to get jumped after school.”

Mr. R tapped a stack of unruly papers on the desk to get their edges square, straightening them.

“Okay. But you’ve been a complete waste of space in my class all semester. So what is it that you’ve done to make me care? If you’re going to live a life of trouble and disregard all the rules, then why should anyone care if the rules are applied when it comes to benefit you? Kind of hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Gerard’s brows raised slightly, and he stared at the teacher, speechless. He hadn’t expected a whole lot of help from the teacher, but he hadn’t really expected to be told that he was a worthless sack and that he didn’t have a right to expect any protection at all; he didn’t expect to be bluntly told that the teacher didn’t care if he got jumped.

He didn’t bother continuing the conversation. He turned and went back to his seat.

“What’d you see Mr. R for?” Frank asked, but Gerard ignored him and opened his textbook, making a pretense of being occupied. He wasn’t going to cry.

“Hey,” Frank knocked his shoulder, jolting him for his attention. “What’d he say?”

“He said he hopes I get jumped after school,” Gerard said, not looking up from his book. He picked up his pencil and started writing out notes.

“That’s messed up,” Frank said, sounding pissed, but Gerard didn’t want to talk about it, and continued to ignore his friend and write.

*******

“Hey, Gerard!” Frank yelled, grinning madly, hanging half out of the car window as Bob pulled up along the curb in front of Gerard’s house.

Gerard’s eyes widened in panic and he glanced quickly over his shoulder.

“You idiots, get out of here!” he hissed, glaring at Frank.

Frank looked worried, understanding with dismay. “Isn’t Mikey at his bass lessons?”

The tall white gate swung open and Mikey stepped out, his back to them as he shut it again. Then he turned and his eyes got big. It was too late to drive away unseen and the boys stared at him, like deer in headlights.

“Is that Mr. Byron’s car?” Mikey asked, adjusting his glasses as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Bob’s eyes turned angry.

“Gerard, get in here, and bring your brother or I’ll run him over!”

“Stuff it, Bryar,” Gerard retorted.

“Fine. Sorry Mikey,” Bob grumbled angrily, obviously not sorry.

“C’mon, Mikes,” Gerard muttered. He grabbed Mikey’s shirt and pushed him into the back seat with Ray, climbing in after him and shutting the door.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Gee,” Mikey said, shakily putting on his seat belt. No one else was wearing theirs.

“Well, you should have shut your eyes and gone back inside, then, Mike,” Bob said. He pulled away from the curb and turned left at the intersection, heading for the highway.

Frank turned around in the passenger seat and tried to explain. “The janitor came out to the parking lot and asked Mr. Byron to open a lock for him, and Bryons left it running while he ran inside. It was too good an opportunity to pass up,” he said. “We were going to bring it right back.”

“Except now we’ve got Mikey the Monkey Wrench thrown into the works and it’s going to be a big problem, isn’t it?” Bob said bitterly.

“Look, Mikes,” Gerard said, turning to his brother and looking him in the eye, trying to reason with him. “It’s just a prank. We’ll take the car back and forget about it, okay?”

Mikey’s knee started to bounce.

“But they stole it, and Bob’s not on the insurance if he crashes it, and we’re using up his gas, that’s like stealing his money. And we’re risking wrecking his car.”

“Dammit, Mikey!” Bob shouted, slamming a fist on the dash. The volume knob for the radio fell off and music started coming out of the speakers. “Shit,” he muttered, reaching down and trying to find the knob on the floor. Frank tried to turn off the radio, but it wouldn’t shut off.

“Now you broke it!” Mikey exclaimed, horrified.

“It’s your fault!” Bob said.

“How is this my fault? I didn’t steal anyone’s car!”

“I hate you, Mikey,” Bob said flatly. Gerard knocked Bob up the back of the head. He glared at Gerard in the rear view mirror, but didn’t say anything more.

“Watch where you’re going!” Ray yelled. Bob looked quickly and grabbed the wheel with both hands, swerving, but there was a thunk. The car kept going, but there were angry road workers shaking their fists behind them and the wooden blockade had been knocked over.

Bob kept driving. He turned onto a different street and pulled to the side of the road, cursing under his breath. As he shut off the engine, the radio finally shut off. They got out and stood in a semi-circle by the car and looked at the dent.

“This is bad,” Mikey worried.

They didn’t answer him.

“Let’s just get the damned thing back to the school and go home,” Frank sighed, his earlier fun mood completely down the toilet now.

“What’s that noise?” Mikey asked.

Gerard tilted his head, cocking his ear to listen, then groaned and bent down to look under the car.

“Something is leaking,” Mikey moaned in dismay. “And because Mr. Byrons left it running unattended, his insurance won’t cover any of this!”

“Well, he should have thought of that when he left it running unattended!” Bob snapped. “Screw this.” He pulled his hoodie sleeve over his hand and used it to wipe off the door handle, opening the door and crawling inside to wipe down the steering wheel and the dash, scrubbing at anywhere he thought one of them might have touched. He came back out and slammed the door. “I’m walking to the bus stop. Gerard, keep your brother in line for once, will you? Your brother’s going to juvie if you rat us out, Mikes!” He turned and stalked down the road.

Ray looked at Gerard and raised his shoulders apologetically, then turned and followed Bob. Frank sighed and hung his head, trudging after Ray, kicking rocks in his path.

“Bye, Gee,” he said.

Gerard didn’t answer, turning his eyes to Mikey, staring at him like, So? What are you going to do?

Mikey pulled his sleeves over his hands, fidgeting and looking around anywhere but at Gerard.

“Let’s start walking,” Gerard mumbled, turning and walking in the opposite direction of the others. Mikey walked with him.

They didn’t talk. Mikey kept pulling out his cell phone, studying it, turning it in his hands nervously, and then shoving it back in his pocket. After the sixth or seventh time, Gerard sighed exasperatedly.

“Just get it over with, Mikey.”

Mikey opened the phone and dialed, almost dropping it out of his fumbling fingers, and put it up to his ear.

Within fifteen minutes of Mikey calling, a police car pulled up along side of them. They stopped as he stood out of his car and came around. Gerard sighed heavily as the officer opened the back door and nodded for them to get inside.

Mikey crawled in first and sat nervously with his hands clasped in his lap. Gerard got in next to him and the officer shut the door firmly. Gerard leaned on the door, chin on his arm, and watched out the window.

It was silent all the way to the station, and then they were sat in front of a desk, a man in a suit behind it, a pen in hand as he asked them to relate to him exactly what had happened so that he could write down their statement. Gerard sat there slumped back in his chair while Mikey told it all. Every once in a while the officer would look at him and say, “Is that how it happened?” and Gerard would simply nod.

Another officer opened the door.

“We’ve got the other three,” he said.

They could see Bob out there. He looked mad, glaring at the floor, an officer holding his arm and leading him to another office. Mikey bit his nails nervously.

“Well, you two are free to go. You’ll be required to do a few hours of community service,” the man behind the desk said, looking pointedly at Gerard, “and you’ll have to pay for some damage, but it was brave of you to come forward. We’ve contacted your parents, you can go wait for them out there.”

Gerard got up and trudged silently out, and Mikey followed. He plopped down in a chair to wait and Mikey sat beside him.

“It might be okay,” Mikey said timidly.

Gerard looked the other direction and didn’t answer.