Oh Baby Let Me In

December 17th, 1999
Wednesday;afternoon

"You know, you could help me instead of sitting there on your ass."

I tore my eyes away from my feet to Mikey, but continued to tug repeatedly on the strings of my winter hat. He stood in the middle of the driveway; his body slumped over the shovel he was using to clear away the snow, his glasses almost falling off the tip of his nose.

I shifted in my lawn chair that I had placed in the middle of Mikey's yard, shrugging my shoulders before going back to drawing things in the snow with my shoes. I heard him sigh overdramatically before the scraping of his shovel on the cement was heard once again.

Wednesday was Mikey's Chore Day! as his Mom liked to call it, and I was actually beginning to thank my own Mother for making me skip art class.

At first, yeah, I was upset that she told me that I wasn't allowed to go to class for a month, but now that I thought about it more, I didn't really even like it to begin with. I couldn't draw anything to save my life, the only reason I even went there was because I had been since I was ten. I was used to all of the people there, and I was comforatable, which was a feeling that I never really felt; especially at school.

At school, nobody talks to me. Mikey is the only one, besides the teachers, which by the way seem to ignore me just as much as the whole school population, who actually tries to start up a conversation with me. I never talk to Mikey at school though. I am always way too paranoid that someone is sitting around the corner of the hall listening. I really have to idea why; my Mom thinks it's because I don't like the sound of my own voice. My doctor had actually said that this could be one of the main reasons why I have Selective Mutism.

Ugh--Mutism. I just hate that word. I can talk--just not all the time.

And I especially hate it when people don't understand it. Just because I'm the 'mute kid' at school, doesn't mean I can't fucking hear. People are so goddamned stupid these days.

I leaned further back into my lawn chair, tugging down my hat just a bit further, pushing a bit of hair out of my eyes before pulling my sleeves of my sweatshirt and gripping the fabric in my palms. Pulling my up my feet, resting my heels on the edge of the chair, I looked back up at Mikey.

I accidentally let out an obnoxiously loud snort, before almost falling out of my chair in a fit of giggles at the sight of Mikey attempting to lift up a large amount of snow on his small little shovel. His face was beat red, and he looked like he was about to shit himself with the way his body was angled. The second he heard me laughing though, he practically jumped, dropping the shovel to the ground and having its handle just happen to drop right onto his foot.

I totally lost it, my eyes beginning to blur with tears as I clutched my stomach, my lungs now begging for air. I heard his cuss a few times before he began whining.

"Frank, you're an asshole! Owwww---" he drawled overdramatically, now cradling his left foot in his arms as he hopped around, trying to stay standing.

Continuing mylaughinggiggling, I tried to shout back a smart ass reply, but the lack of air, and lack of --speaking-- kept me from doing so. I mean, come on, that didn't hurt that bad.

The sound of crunching snow and the feeling of somebody approaching seemed to break me out of my little trance, and I opened my eyes, my giggles quieting down. Mikey had one of those looks plastered to his face, reading that he was trying to be serious and look pissed off, but he was also trying so hard not to smile.

"You find that funny, Iero?"

I slouched down in my chair, keeping my arms on the arm rests, but lifting up my legs for some sort of defense. I spoke quietly, "Back the fuck up man. I'm a ninja, and you don't want to get hurt."

Mikey's 'serious' face faltered for a split second before he cocked his head to the side. "Oh really?"

I lifted my head just a bit to see over my outstretched legs, which were now moving out and back like I was riding a bike or something, raising my eyebrow at him before responding. "Uh huh. Whatcha gonna do about it, huh? Mister 'I-can't-fucking-shovel-snow-correctly'?"

Mikey squinted a bit, needing to listen real close to even hear what I was saying because I spoke so softly, but then rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "First off, that was the lamest name I have ever received, and believe me, I've heard a few.'

I snorted again, momentarily breaking my 'tough guy' character, but quickly recovered.

Oh, and by the way, we do this a lot, for those out there that think we are mental or something.

"Second!" he raised his voice to be heard loud and clear over me, which is very rare by the way. "You know what I'm gonna do?"

"What?" I mumbled, hoping he would do something quick because my legs were getting tired from 'cycling' in midair.

"This," he grunted before kicking my legs to the side, launching himself at me when my defenses were down.

His shoulder rammed into my chest, knocking the air that I just got back from my fit from before, and we both fell backwards in my chair and collapsed to the ground. The chair folded up underneath me and was abandoned as our momentum caused us to slide across the lawn a bit. The second we stopped though, I began coughing and flailing about as Mikey attempted to shove snow in my mouth and even into my clothes.

I, personally, blamed the height difference. How the hell was I supposed to get out of this?

"Mikey, quit raping the kid on the lawn. The neighbors don't want to see that."

This guy has the worst timing. He doesn't speak up until his Mom practically--okay, she was just helping but really? He couldn't of said something before she went--that far. And now his brother was apparently raping he on his front lawn. Maybe I just don't get it.

"You can't rape the willing, Gee!" Mikey shouted back, laughing as he rolled off me and laid back onto the snow.

My hat had somehow fallen off in the small brawl on the lawn, so I pulled it back on my head before resting myself on my elbows, attempting to catch my breath. I watched Gerard slowly make his way down the front steps, balancing a cigarette between his lips as he carried a plastic bag in one hand as he chuckled lightly at Mikey's comment, making his way towards us.

"I didn't know you swung that way Mikes. Welcome to the club," he laughed, blowing out the last of his cancer stick before flicking it across the lawn.

My eyes widened a bit.

Wow. You learn something new everyday.

Mikey laughed too, propping himself up like me. "Nope, sorry. Though I might want to join if you give out free shirts."

I heard his brother let out an airy laugh, his feet scuffing the snow, bits flying in the air and onto my pant leg. They're already wet enough, thank you very much.

"You're a nerd."

I looked over at Mikey, watching him nod along with whatever his brother said. He smiled over at me, before lifting his eyes to Gerard. "So what brings you out on this fine day?"

I let out a small, unintentional laugh. Just the way Mikey talked on a daily basis got me. My eyes widened a bit and my head shot up to see if Gerard had actually heard me.

Like some cheesy ass movie, the wind had picked up and just the way his hair blew in his face, causing him to squint, the small smile that was on his face that told me that he had heard me, made him look, in a way--attractive.

My thoughts were ended as quickly as they began with his voice. "Toro's. Haven't seen him in a while and I have some drawing's I want to show him." he lifted up the small plastic bag in his hand.

I moved my eyes from the ground to Mikey, looking at him questionably. He nodded quickly. "Gerard's an artist. That's what he went to college for. He's actually really good at it."

Gerard chuckled. "Not really. Mikey's just a little overdramat--"

"Oh!" Mikey shouted, pushing himself up from where he was laying and scaring the hell out of me and interrupting Gerard's sentence. "Frank! You know how your Mom won't let you go to art class, right?"

I nodded dumbly.

"Gee can teach you! I mean, he's probably way better than those old people that run the thing, and plus. He's way cooler cause he's related to me--oww! Fuck you!" he clutched the side of his head as he pushed his glasses back up his nose.

I watched Gerard roll his eyes, Mikey now cooperating from his slight blow to the head. Gerard then shrugged a 'sure' before looking down at me. His lips went from a small smile to a little frown, now changing his mind. "I mean, if you wanted. It doesn't matter to me or anything."

I felt bad now; that he actually wanted to do it. I never really told Mikey that I didn't really even like art class. He would ask how it went and I would come back with a 'good' or something along those lines. I didn't know if I was letting the guy down if I said no, but the way his face dropped when I looked unenthused kind of answered my question.

But what I think changed my own mind, was the fact that he spoke to me. He’s done it before, but – I don’t even know. This time was just different.

I looked between the two brothers, before giving a slight nod.

Gerard smiled.