Pushing and Pulling Me Down

Vic calls me in the middle of my joyride to cuss me out for not being in school.

He's always fucking acting like the model student, the perfect son, the parents we don't seem to have, but really, Vic's a slut and he's failing Trigonometry and I hope he realizes that he's just as much of a fuckup as I am. As long as no one sees through that façade of his, then it's all okay and everyone can keep dumping the shit on me.

The problem child, the druggie, the whore. And if that's what they think I am, that's what I'm gonna be. There's no point going out of my way trying to change anyone's minds. They'll never think of me any other way, so there's absolutely no sense in doing shit that'll make them see how wrong they are. Hell, I was promoted, but does that mean shit to anyone? Of course not.

I'm still a fucking disaster.

I give in and start heading to school, though, because I don't feel like having to deal with Vic calling me back and having a bitch fit. Wasting gas and roaming around the city is a helluva lot more fun, but oh well, I guess.

It only takes me about fifteen minutes to get there, which means I wasn't as far from Hell as I thought I was. Great. I get out, stomp my cigarette out in the parking lot. How d'you like that, school board? I just killed my cig on your property. I hope it burns.

First period is almost over when I walk in, the security at the front grilling me so damned hard for my school ID. I flash it to him with a scowl - out of all the schools around, I would so sneak into this one. Still, I make my way to class, but clearly, I should've just stood, because now the bell is ringing. With a shrug, I decide that I guess I've got time to stop at my locker now.

It only takes me a second to pop the lock and throw my backpack in there, keeping a few notebooks and my History book with me because if I don't have it, Mrs. Miller's gonna flip her shit and I may have to flip mine right back. It's only right, y'know?

But thankfully, I don't have World History this hour. I've got P.E., which is a thousand times better. Except for the fact that Vic is in there, and I've always gotta worry about doing better than him because there's no way in hell I'm living under the shadow of my older brother in every goddamn class.

When I make it to the locker room, I see Vic immediately. He's sitting on one of the benches, hasn't changed into his gym clothes, head down, eyes on the ground. I haven't seen him in this state in a while. I thought he got better.

"What's the matter with you, dickhead?" I ask, trying to make him smile as I bump his shoulder with my hip. It doesn't work. He just keeps still, face blank. I may be an asshole, a problem child, a druggie, a whore, whatever they wanna call me, but I am not going to sit here and let my brother fall back into an old state. I take a seat and shake him, which at least draws something out of him: a little but of agitation.
"Mike, stop."
"What's the matter, dude?"
"Nothing, it's nothing. I'm just tired."
"You didn't sound tired when you were cussin' me out earlier."

He smiles just a tiny bit, it's like a ghost of a smile, but it's there. He knows he was about to rip me a new one over the phone, but he must've held back to see if I was actually gonna come to school. He acts like my mom, dad, brother, and best friend, not to mention my biggest rival.

That's probably one-sided, though.

Vic doesn't try and live up to me. So it's definitely one-sided.

"Shut up. You need to bring your ass to school."
"And you need a tutor in Trig, so suck on that."
"Whatever."

He punches me in the shoulder and he seems a little better, so I kick at his gym locker and say, "Now change, bitch," before walking off to my own and going to change in the showers. I don't have a problem with anyone seeing me. I don't. I swear. I just wanna change away from people, I don't feel like striking up a conversation with someone with my pants down.

Four minutes later and I'm out on the gym floor, Vic trailing behind me. He takes his seat, but I'm wandering around because Coach Kraft has yet to come out from her office and I'm not all too excited to sit on this dusty ass floor.

Wandering around, however, brings me to Radke, that dick who dated my brother. He's talking to someone I've never seen before, and he seems pretty happy to be doing so. The guy he's talking to is smiling, rubbing his arm and listening intently to whatever Radke's got to say. If there's one thing I can say for sure, it's that I absolutely cannot stand Ronnie fucking Radke. Not at all.

"Who's this, huh?" I ask, just interrupting them in the middle of their conversation. I kneel down, give them both a smirk before nudging Radke with my elbow.
"Ignore him," Radke mutters to the new brunette. "He's a dick."
"I'm the dick? I don't think so."
"You're a piece of shit, Mike," he snaps, finally turning to me. There's fire in his eyes and his fists are tight, but there's no way in Hell I'm afraid of him. Never have been and never will be. "You and your fucking brother."

Now, he can talk shit about me as much as he wants, but the second he starts in in my brother, he's dropped himself into a lot of shit. Only I can say anything about Vic, because it doesn't matter coming from me, I still love him just the same. But when it comes out of someone else's mouth, that's when I count it as crossing the line.

I grab Radke by his collar and glare deep into his eyes. He tries to push me off, but there's no way he's gonna win.

"You keep Vic's name outta your mouth, got me? You don't ever talk shit about him."
"Okay, okay, whatever," he mumbles in an attempt to get me to lay off. I grin darkly and just tighten my grip when he fidgets, which causes his eyes to widen in what I know is fear. Radke's afraid of me, and that's good.

Fear is the way you control someone, keep the reins tight, guarantee that they won't tear you down because you've got them frozen in place.

"Lay off 'im," demands the kid I've never seen, wrenching me away from him in a snap. He's strong as hell, and if he's gonna be around often, then shit, I need to watch my back. "Get ya hands off."
"Who the fuck're you?" I snap at him, adrenaline beginning to pump through my veins. I'm ready for a fight. I just gotta wait for the sign of the first swing.
"Oliver Sykes, and I'm not gonna watch ya bully someone, ya pathetic prick."

He never swings, though, just shoves me off. Who the hell does he think he is, anyway? He's snatching my power right from underneath me, and I really fucking need that. I shove him back and spit, "What, you're Radke's new fuckbuddy? You his boyfriend?"
"And if I was? Why, ya got a problem with it?"

I look at Radke who is staring at Oliver who is glaring at me. I don't have time to waste energy on these assholes, so I scoff and shrug and say, "Whatever. Vic's moved on, too, by the way."

Radke deflates a little, but tries to play it off like he doesn't care. He looks away from Oliver, looks away from me, too, and stares at the gym floor. "I don't give a shit, he moved on when he cheated." But from his low tone and slumped shoulders, I can tell he cares a lot. I smirk, satisfied that I've stopped him in his tracks. Oliver hasn't said anything, either, so I walk away with my power back in my hands.

When I make it back to Vic, there's some kid sitting on his lap. I pause, watch them do whatever the hell they're doing, but I snap my fingers when they start making out. Ducking hell. And I'm the problem child?

"Sorry, Mikey," he mutters when they split, shooting me a stupid smile. The kid on his lap shifts and looks at me and I know him, that's Kellin, that really nerdy kid in a couple of my classes. What the hell is Vic doing with him? "This is Kellin. Kells, this is Mike, my brother."
"Oh, we know each other," I say quick enough to shut Kellin up before he even speaks.

In all honesty, when I told Radke that my brother had moved on, I didn't know he had really moved on. Now he's making out with this dork in the middle of class. Radke's got a boyfriend, Vic's got a boyfriend (though that's not surprising, I can't wait to see how long this lasts). I'm the only one standing around lonely as hell.

I don't care, though. Getting with someone? It only pulls a veil over your eyes, so when they strike you, stab you in the back, break your heart, you don't see it coming. Giving yourself up to someone else is just allowing them to hurt you.

I can't see how people do it.