Death-Wish Kids

"I don't want you to go!" Noah shouted as he followed us down the stairs towards the front door.

"Noah, be quiet or you're going to wake Micah," I whispered harshly, yanking him farther down the stairs so he'd be farther away from Micah's room.

He glared at me and hurried over to wrap his arms around Frank's waist. "You're so much fun," he complained into Frank's back, "Why do you have to go? It's only eight thirty!"

"Because Gerard is in the driveway," I stated, grabbing my brother's shirt and yanking him off. "Noah, let go!"

"But your friends are so much cooler than my friends," the eleven year old whined, grabbing onto his wrists around Frank's body. Frank helped by prying his fingers off and I pulled, managing to get the leech off.

"Stay!" I demanded, pointing at my brother as he stood against the back of the couch, "Next time I'll go pick up Owen myself because you seriously need someone to occupy you when my friends are here."

"It's not my fault he couldn't come," Noah replied snottily, crossing his arms over his chest, "and your friends like me."

"Stay in the house," I repeated, "I'm going to walk them out. You should go get ready for bed."

Noah rolled his eyes at me and jumped up to sit on the back of the couch, facing the doorway to watch us go. I shook my head and opened the door for Frank and Mikey to walk out in front of me.

"He's a lunatic," I muttered, running my fingers through my hair, "He's cute, but he's a lunatic."

Frank laughed and nodded his head, shielding his eyes as we were blinded by Gerard's headlights. "He's a good kid," he said, walking towards the backdoor on the passenger's side. Mikey agreed and opened the passenger's door. I went around the front of the car and leaned down as the driver's window rolled down.

"My mom is still expecting you over for cooking lessons," he said first, leaning his jean-clad elbow on the windowsill. He glanced towards his younger brother and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth before looking back to me, the hint of a smile on his face.

"I don't know," I spoke, able to see the confusion in his Way eyes. He know my reason for being so difficult and I wondered what he was thinking it was. "I'll check with my dad," I added, hoping that he'd pass the message onto his mother.

"Donna will be upset to hear there's no date set for your return," he said, a smirk on his lips, "You really should just pick a day and make it happen. For my ma's sake." He ran the palm of his hand over his white hair and then moved the strands back into place again.

"Sorry to disappoint," I replied, standing up straight again and taking a step back so I could see into the car again. I noticed Gerard's slightly dressy attire. He donned a black leather jacket with a grey hoodie underneath and black pants that probably should've belong to Frank instead. The last time I'd seen Gerard, he wore a t'shirt and jean jacket while jeans that were tight but still low on his hips. In the driveway, I took another step away from Gerard's blue car and nodded towards the road. "I'll see you guys around."

"Bye Cyren!" Frank screamed from the backseat, drowning out Mikey's goodbye and hiding Gerard's silence as he put his car in gear and began backing out of my father's driveway.

To my surprise, the car pulled over just down the street, between my house and my neighbors and turned off, the lights disappearing too. I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest, taking a step towards the immobile vehicle, wondering if one of the boys forgot something.

I watched as the driver's door opened and Gerard stepped out, standing on the edge of the car and looking over the hood. I frowned as he motioned for me to come over there. In my socks, I cut across the grass and met the twenty year old about fifteen feet from the car.

"What do you want, Gerard?" I questioned, crossing my arms over my chest. I looked back and saw Mikey and Frank watching from the car, both looking as confused as I felt.

Gerard stood in front of me in his dark clothing with his black boots shiny from the dew of the grass and the reflection of the moon. His white head dropped and he kicked his foot in the grass, tearing strands from the ground. "Honestly, I'm not sure," he said softly so that the other two wouldn't hear. He looked up and met my eyes. "I just felt like there was something more to say."

I recrossed my arms over my chest, trying to block out the cold of the night, and looked up at the boy's hazel eyes. "What else is there to say?" I questioned, frowning at him.

"I'm not sure," he murmured, glancing towards the car. When he saw his brother and best friend, they both quickly looked away and pretended to mind their own business.

I chuckled and shrugged my shoulders, taking a step back from the older boy. "I have to go," I said, "My dad or someone is going to come outside soon if I don't."

Gerard nodded and ran his fingers through his unusual hair. "Yeah, you better," he said, sounding confident again, "Wouldn't want you to get in trouble with your warden."

"Very funny," I replied, shaking my head. I stepped back in my wet socks until I was standing on the edge of my driveway. "Goodbye, Gerard," I said, "Go home."

He grinned and nodded. I watched as he turned around and sauntered back to his car, yelling at the younger boys to shut up as he dropped back into driver's seat and closed the door. I turned and hurried back to the pathway that lead to the front door. My wet socks left feet prints in the driveway and dried up just as quickly, taking away any proof of Gerard's strange meeting in the grass.

Strange was an adjective that would accurately describe Mikey's older brother. He was so much that I didn't know how else to explain him. As I stepped inside the door and locked it behind me, I wondered what it was that made Gerard summons me from the familiarness of my driveway, only to say nothing when he couldn't find the words.

I said goodnight to Mitchell who now laid on the couch with a blanket and the TV remote in his hand, and climbed the stairs to my bedroom. I pushed open Micah's door and peered in through the darkness, wondering if my son could've been the reason Gerard sensed something was missing between us.

I closed Micah's door and went into my own room. Through the walls, I could hear my dad putting Noah to bed. The boy argued like usual then switched to negotiating, managing to earn two movies since it was Saturday night and our dad knew he would fall asleep during the first one.

I rummaged through my closet until I found my baggiest shirt and replaced the shirt I was wearing. I kicked off my jeans and crawled into bed, not worrying about shorts since I wasn't planning on getting up until Micah summonsed me early in the morning. I climbed under my covers and reveled in the feel of the cold sheets against my skin. I laid on my stomach and pressed my face into my pillow, surprised by the hard plastic my fingers found underneath.

I slid my phone out and lit the screen. There were no notifications seeing as everyone I knew in New Jersey had been in house the entire day. I touched the 'contacts' tab and scrolled down to the image and name of my mother.

I paused briefly, before continuing through the rest of the numbers. I put the phone to sleep and tucked it back under my pillow, putting my mom out of my head and trying to keep my mind off of the elder Way brother once again.

It seemed that every time Gerard was in front of me, even for the shortest of minutes, the image of him and a faint, fragmented memory of his personality were permanently stuck in my head and just when they began to fade for good, he came around again, managing to stick himself in my brain once more.

However; I really wanted to go back to the Way house as soon as I could. That feeling of belonging that I yearned for so desperately when I first walked through their door was addicting and I longed to be there again amongst their playfully unbalanced family.

The morning came quickly and I woke late, surprised that Micah's cries hadn't rouses me in the early hours. As I slid out of bed, I was confused by my open door. I grabbed a pair of shorts from the floor and pulled them onto my hips before I stepped just outside my doorway, listening to the unusual silence that enveloped the house.

"Dad?" I called down the stairs, "Noah, Ryder?"

I meagerly stepped down the stairs and called out for Mitchell, wondering where they all could've gone without me. My hand quickly flew to my heart when Mitchell spoke from behind me. "Your dad and Noah ran to the store, Ryder went to a friend's house or something."

I turned around and saw him standing at the bottom of the stairs with Micah in his arms. "Thanks for letting me know," I said, stepping to him to take my son out of his grasp, "When will they be back?"

"Probably within the next half hour," he said, stepping back over the couch and dropping down on the left side, the remote in his hand. "They were just going to get something that Noah wanted for his breakfast. I'm not sure."

I nodded, even though I was out of his line of sight, and stepped back to the stairs, holding Micah against my chest as we went to dress. I changed Micah first and then carted him into my room. I laid him on my bed between a couple pillows and exchanged my dirty shorts for sweats and my huge shirt for tank top, leaving my arms bare.

"What do you say, Micah, do you want to play with your blocks?" I questioned rhetorically as I lifted him from my bed and headed back into his room. I sat on the floor and sat him between my legs with a clear bucket in front of him and large plastic blocks scattered around him.

Again and again I watched as Micah filled the bucket with the muti-colored blocks and then dumped it out only to start again. I'd help by putting all of one color inside, to which he would take them all back out again so he could put that color in on his own. Every now and then he would hand me one that I could stick in.

"Micah, you're so smart," I said just before I pressed a kiss against his temple, "I think you're even smarter than Uncle Noah."

Micah babbled something incoherent and dumped the bucket over again. He began to refill it and I head the garage door opening. "Alright, Micah," I said, pushing his bucket away from him, "Lets go say good morning to Grandpa."

Micah whined softly as I picked him up and took him from his toys. I quickly scooped up one of his large trucks and let him fiddle with in before he could start full-blown crying. He quieted almost automatically and spun the rubber wheels.

"Well, look who finally joined the world of the living!"

I offered a sarcastic smile in return to my father and stepped down the last stair. Noah was on the couch with Mitchell, waving around some DVD that our dad must've just picked up for him while Dad was carrying a couple bags into the kitchen. I carried Micah around the back of the couch and followed my dad into his favorite place in the house.

"What're you making?" I asked when I sat down in my usual chair with Micah on my lap. I set the little boy's car on the table so he could roll it back and forth.

My dad stood behind the granite-topped island and smiled over to us. "Do omelets sound good?" He continued to empty the paper backs onto the counter top.

I shrugged. "Sure." I kissed the top of Micah's head and then looked back to my father. "What are you doing today?"

He shrugged without looking up from the food items. "Why? What are you thinking about doing today?" He met my eyes and pressed his hands into the counter top.

"Nothing really," I replied softly, "I just thought that if you wanted to spend the day with Micah, I could see what Frank and Mikey were doing today." I sighed as my dad set everything down and walked around the island. I dropped my feet off of the chair in front of me when my dad pulled it out from the table and sat down in it, facing me with his hands on his knees.

"Cyren," he said, looking up to my face from my bare feet.

"Dad," I replied in a tone that made it obvious I wasn't interested in his lecture.

"Cy, just because Frank and Mikey were over last night doesn't mean you can hang out with them whenever you want. Your first priority is Micah and you can't leave him with me whenever you want to get out of the house."

I wrapped my arms around Micah's stomach and stared my dad in the eyes. "I know that," I stated, pulling the baby's back against my stomach, "but I still want to be able to have fun. Meeting those two has been the most fun thing that's happened to me in a long time."

Dad clasped his hands together and situated himself again in his chair. "Cyren, you've had enough fun to last while."

"When are you going to stop holding getting pregnant over my head?" I asked, getting frustrated, "I've done nothing for the last eighteen months but cry about being pregnant and then sit home with Micah, doing nothing."

"That's your job as a mother," he replied, "You stay home with your son while your friends, who aren't parents, go out and have fun. I did it with you three and now you're doing it for Micah. It's what you do, Cyren."

"Mom never forced herself to be unhappy by making herself stay home with me all the time," I stated, recalling the years I spent alone with my mom and her boyfriend, Warner, after my father left.

"Your mother has her issues," he replied, "but she always tried her best. I know if she could do it again, she would decide to spend her nights with you instead." He ran a hand over his dark hair and moved his green eyes away from mine.

"Okay, Dad," I said, shaking my head at the lie he was saying, "I'm going to try my best with Micah, but I want to be happy too." I stood up, clutching the baby to my stomach, and backed away from the chair and my father. "Can you watch Micah one night a week or not?"

My father stood up and took a hard look at my son. "I'll think about it," he said to me as he reached out and wiped Micah's face, "I'll let you know when I make up my mind."

"So it's a no for today, isn't it?"

He just nodded and walked back over to the island. I sighed softly and headed in the other direction. I wanted to be able to go out with my friends when they called, but I knew that wasn't in my cards.