Friday
I sit in my room whipping down parts of my newest project. Don't need the pieces rusting over, now do I? I had a long day. In Psychology, I had to explain to the entire class what it felt like to be bullied. It was kind of embarrassing talking about my feelings like that. It wasn't as bad after our teacher opened the discussion to the class and other kids talked about times they were bullied. Plus, I got several kids insisting that it was all fake and that they didn't mean a word of it. Most of them went online for ideas of what to say about me. I'll admit. It made me feel a little better.
"Mikey!" I hear my hot head of a brother Raph yell in the hall. Great. I wonder what the prankster did this time. At least it's not me he got. "Mikey!" Raph shouts again not a minute later. "Come out you little twerp!"
I sigh, thinking I should probably at least see what's going on. I take my hardware with me to the living room, "What's all the fuss about?"
"Raph's mad at Mike," Leo answers cooly, turning to the TV. Space Heroes must be coming on soon. Otherwise, he and I would go watch Raph pound our little bro. We'd each take a side and then it would turn into a four dude wrestling match. I chuckle silently as he shouts, "Just try to kill him quietly!"
"Ah!" my little brother screams.
I spin around fast to see Raph holding Mike by his collar, "Got cha!"
"I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry!" Mikey says real fast. It won't do him any good.
And Raph knows it, "Not this time."
Raph takes Mike's arm so he can wrestle him to the floor, but I guess he grabs too tight. "Owe!" Mikey's face scrunches up.
Leo asks from behind us, a little concerned, "Mike?" I'm not sure if Mike is faking or not, but he probably is. He's done it before. Though, Leo seems to believe it. And so does Raph.
"I didn't do it!" my older brother shouts, letting go of Mike, "What happened? What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," Mikey shrugs. Okay. It's something. If it was a fake hurt, he'd be milking it to get out of a pumbling, "Just got a little rough in gym today. That's all."
"Again?" I raise my eyebrow. This is getting ridiculous. Mikey told me about some of the kids at his school who are picking on him because of how he's doing in the basketball segment. He's amazing at soccer, but he just doesn't seem to have coordinated hands.
"Again?" Leo asks concerned, "Mike, what's up?"
"Just some jerks," Mike brushes it off, "Nothing I can't handle." I shake my head at him. If they were pushing him around enough to hurt his arm, then it's not nothing. I make my way over, "I'll whoop their butts in basketball on Monday. That's for sure!"
"Let me see your arm," I take his hand and pushes back the sleeve. It's bruised and starting to swell. He should have had ice on it, "Exactly what happened?"
"After all their trash talk, I got checked to the ground," he groans, "I just sprained it, is all."
I shake my head, letting it go, "We should still check it out," I look to my oldest brother, hoping he'll agree, "Leo?"
"I'll get the keys," he stands.