The Ultimate Bet

The trip to the gas station was moderately short. Moderately. Really, it was too short. Donna didn't give Mikey a big hassle about taking the family car, but then again, the beat-up Volkswagen couldn't possibly get any more worse than it already was. Gerard didn't know how to explain his nerves. It felt like the uncomfortable feeling of being atop a summit in a roller coaster car, waiting for that first drop. The drop never came. The tension kept mounting, curling into a searing knot in the pit of his stomach. That was about the only accurate description he could give at the moment. It made him want to puke.

"So," Mikey said, after he looked at his watch for the umpteenth time. It had been approximately thirty minutes and they had yet to leave the small parking lot of the convenient store. The younger Way turned his gaze to the two discarded, empty cigarette cartons on the dashboard. "Ready?"

"What?" Gerard snapped, facing his brother with loathe. "Oh right. My execution." It was easier to deal with the situation at hand if he just kept a remote attitude about the whole thing. So far he was failing at it.

The younger Way didn't miss a beat. "This was your idea." He leveled his gaze, grumbling, "Can we at least leave the parking lot? People are staring."

It didn't help the air between them was stifling, mostly due to the fact Mikey had turned off the engine, but Gerard was sure the awkward silence and heavy tension wasn't his imagination and would still be present regardless of no air circulation.

"Why? We're just sitting here, smoking," Gerard shrugged, not understanding why they'd need to move; there were plenty of other parking spots available. "People need to learn to mind their own business."

"No clue, but maybe it's due to the fact you’re throwing out cigarettes less than ten feet from the gas pumps? I’m just waiting for the attendant to call the cops.”

"Or the fact we sitting in the ugliest car any of these people have ever had the displeasure to lay their eyes on?" Gerard argued, sarcastically.

"At least it's not defective," the younger male huffed, earning a not-so-friendly punch in the shoulder. "Are we leaving before or after you die of lung cancer or should I ever be so lucky to die instantaneously in an explosion?"

Gerard flicked a bud at his brother before throwing the spent cigarette out the window. He turned, catching Mikey doing it yet again, and it only made Gerard more exasperated. He ignored his brother’s early lament, knowing the younger boy was trying to distract him from his next question. "You've been looking out the window every five seconds, expecting someone?"

"No, Gerard. I'm just peaking out the window for recreational purposes."

"Sounds like you're stalling," Gerard said, flicking the lighter on and off unnecessarily, increasingly becoming more paranoid. Mikey was just as close-lipped as he had been before they left.

"If I knew something important that pertained to you, I'd tell you in an heartbeat. Uh, something like brother’s code or some shit."

Mikey laughed at his brother's attempt to get him to talk, thinking about how untrue that statement was, if the last sixteen years of his life meant anything. "Really? You would?"

Gerard blinked, unable to process what his brother precisely meant by that question. "Huh yeah."

"That sounded really convincing," Mikey said, blankly, then a thought popped into his head. "You wouldn't know what happened to my secret stash in my room, would you?"

"Really Mikey, why would I be in your room? It's the pit of death," Gerard answered, deadpanned. "Your room broke the vacuum cleaner."

"You never knew where the 'On' switch was on the thing," Mikey muttered, his voice a bit indifferent, realizing what they were doing. "And why do we always talk about the stupidest shit?"

"I don't know, you started this fucking conversation." Glancing up, Gerard spotted a familiar figure walking by. "Hey, isn't that--"

"So say, hypothetically, I’m not the only one in on this. Hypothetically,” Mikey repeated, slowly. “How mad would you be?”

Gerard narrowed his eyes, thinking that being near a gas station with a lighter in hand wasn’t a good place to have this conversation.

“Meaning this is fictional and doesn’t actually affect anyone?” Gerard replied, thoughtfully, “really fucking upset.”

“Oh,” The younger teen glanced down. “More mad than Mom when you got drunk and peed in Grandma Elena's flowerbed?"

“Oh God, will you stop?” Gerard snapped, thinking how utterly ridiculous this whole situation already was, there wasn't a need to bring up past events. “If this is apart of your torturing method; I give up. You win. Yes. I did everything you thought I did. I purposely made your life a living hell. I don’t regret it, though, if that’s your next question.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” Mikey smiled, ruefully. “So say, hypothetically, I might’ve planned this whole...party thing to, huh, set you up, well, that's not true. It wasn't to set you up; it was to see if maybe you wouldn't go through with it. At least, Fr-I hoped so."

Gerard couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen this coming. From his fucking brother.

“I don’t know why I did it now! It seemed like...a good idea at the time,” the younger Way answered ashamedly, wincing at Gerard’s callous stare. “I thought--Damn it--I really didn’t think you had it in you! You were supposed to just get drunk and forget about Frank.”

“Oh I...err sorta told Frank before the party, but only out of guilt!" Mikey confessed with a sheepish look, as if that made it any better. "I wasn't going to throw him to the wolves, or anything. Instead of getting mad, he, huh, suggested to take it to the next level..."

Gerard wondered if the buzzing inside his head was the sound of the last piece of his sanity slipping away.

Mikey made a face, holding his hands up in a spastic gesture. “Surprise? The joke’s on you?”

Before Gerard could formulate a coherent word, or blink, the passenger door swung open.

X

At least, for once, the blood on his shirt wasn't his. That was the only upside Gerard could think of. After the huge debacle in front of the Seven-Eleven, which the manager of the store had to come out and threaten to call the cops, Gerard could only lie on his bed in near comatose from shock. Mikey was still unsure if he should tell their mother, call 911, or just take the opportunity to poke around in his brother's off-limits room. To see if all the rumors he heard at school were true, so to speak.

But with the unwelcome third party in the room, it was hard to think, much less snoop. Bert wouldn't shut up about how this was the greatest prank since...well, ever. Gerard could only half-listen to his brother, too distracted by his poster busy of Madonna, wondering why in the hell that was the only poster he had of a female, and a fully clad one at that.

“Katie knew, so naturally, Bob agreed to host it. It’s high school, people just love drama for the sake of it and apparently don’t have any lives of their own and just wanted to help fuck with yours. Why else d'you think nobody made a big deal when you announced you were with Frank?”

“I was naive to believe people actually did have lives of their own?”

“Frank is nerdy, so I’m sure the shock factor was still there.”

It still didn't clear up one thing that had been bothering Gerard since the phone call. "So, what about the call I got from Ray about some tape?"

“I forgot to mention that minor detail, didn’t I?” Bert bounded back into the room, wearing his shirt backwards, toothbrush in mouth, still complaining about the punch Gerard landed on him. Still though, Gerard didn’t feel guilt, punching Bert made him feel better. Only because if Bert hadn't spotted him in the hallway that night, he would've gone back to the room and none this mess would not have happened. Or that's what he told himself. It was ironic it had been Bert who had helped planned this with his brother. He never would've guessed those two to stand to be in the same room without any deadly repercussions.

“That was just a ploy to get you to freak out more than you already had. Oh man, you should’ve seen the look on your face when I jumped you in the car,” Bert laughed rapaciously. “I tried to tell you so many times, but you were too lost freaking out. But everybody had a grand time watching you sweat. That’s all it was.”

“I told him, I couldn’t…I would’ve felt horrible if I didn’t,” Mikey admitted, averting his gaze. “I thought he’d back out and I realized, uh, you need to watch out for nerds nowadays. They're not like what you see on television. They’re pretty...smart."

“He hates me,” Bert supplied. “He always gave me looks.”

“Probably because you wouldn’t shut up about wanting to fuck my brother."

Gerard cleared his throat, interrupting both boys. "Do you think it'd be a bad idea to...see Frank?"

"Why d'you think he'd even want to talk to you?" his brother asked, confused at the sudden change of topic.

“But I have..." Have no fucking clue what I’m trying to say.

"Frank’s life is better off without you wrecking it even more than you already had. Maybe you should,” Mikey fixed him a long, hard look, “just let him be for awhile.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Gerard agreed, his voice resigned, seeing no point to argue. But it didn’t change the fact he knew he wouldn't feel at ease until he threw away the last of his dignity and apologized.

“You'll just forget about him and move onto someone else in a week, anyway,” Mikey said, sounding certain. “You’ll be gone and you did say I could look out for him--"

Bert let out a loud, guffaw laugh at Mikey’s ingenious, uncharacteristic tone. Gerard scowled, and stood up to grab his keys and wallet. Bert and Mikey stared at him, equally bewildered.

“What are you doing?” Mikey's eyebrows shot up, a stunned look crossing his face. "I thought we just unanimously agreed that you're going to just fucking leave him alone?"

“I don't know, I thought instead of talking about Frank and listening to you, I think I rather hear it from Frank himself," Gerard said, immediately berating himself for sounding so...not himself. It'd sounded better when he'd rehearsed the line in his head. All it did now was make both boys stare at him with even more worry.

“Holy fuck, you’re--" Bert sputtered, “who the fuck are you?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll let you know the moment I find out.”