Part Eight: Juvie Fucking Sucks
I close my eyes and picture the little red head smiling at me. I feel my lips turn up into a smile as I slide my hand over my stomach. I have nothing else to do in this shithole. I think about Gallagher against me, his pale skin touching mine. I run my fingers in circles around my stomach and down my abdomen.
I can almost see the freckles on his shoulders right now. My hand makes its way to my naval and begins to slide down further. I bite on my knuckle to stop myself from going anywhere with this, but it's too late. I'm already hard. FUCK.
I glance over at the other boys in my cell block. None of them are making any sounds, some may even be sleeping. I close my eyes again and Gallagher's face is right where I left it. I throw my head back as my hands take over. Gallagher.
"Gallagher," I whisper and then it's over. His face is gone and so is everything else. It's a blur.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Milkovich's don't do this sort of shit especially not while thinking about a certain freckle faced Gallagher.
"Yo, Milkovich," says my bunk mate. He stares down at me from above. He's black. I forget his fucking name. Something weird sounding. Who the fuck cares?
"What the fuck do you want?" I ask.
"Who's this Gallagher?"
"None of your fucking business," I say.
He jumps down off his bed and straddles me. I feel a sharp object pointed at my throat. This motherfucker messed with the wrong Milkovich.
"You better kill me when you jam that in my neck or I'll fuck you up," I tell him.
"I asked who Gallagher is," he says. I feel him draw a little blood.
"Someone I know," I answer.
"Not fucking good enough, white boy. Try again."
"He lives in my neighborhood," I say.
"You were getting off to a guy? I fucking knew it. If you so much as look at me more than two seconds I will gut you like a fucking fish."
Come at me, bitch. I'd like to see you fucking try.
"If I so much as hear that name again I will kill you in your sleep, and then when I get out of here, I'll kill him."
I'd love to see you try, motherfucker. Step foot in my neighborhood and you'll be hanging from a fucking tree with your guts on the outside. Go anywhere near Gallagher and I'll make it far worse.
"Get the fuck off me," I say, giving him a hard shove.
"You better watch yourself. You're new around here, but you'll soon learn who the top fucking dog around here is," he says before climbing back up to his bed.
I wake up a little earlier than usual, and lie in my bed staring up at my cell mate's mattress. I wish I remembered his fucking name. "Milkovich, you thinking about Gallagher?" he asks from above me.
"Fuck off," I say, wishing I had a cigarette.
"What are you in here for?"
"Go fuck yourself."
During breakfast I sit by myself at a table full of guys who didn't seem to notice if I was there nor not. One of them reached across the table to try to take my Jell-O. Oh hell no, bitch.
"Get your fucking hands off my jell-o," I tell him. I grab his hand with mine. He looks at me then pulls back.
"Name's Mick," he says.
"Mickey," I say.
"Are names are the same," he says.
Is he fucking me with this shit?
"Touch my fucking jell-o again and I'll break your fucking hand."
I am told I have money in my commissary account and I use them to get cigarettes. I inhale them and release during break time. This place fucking sucks, and I hope I get out soon.
"Milkovich, you have a visitor," says a guard. I hobble on my crutches to the visitors' room. I spot Gallagher sitting on the opposite side of the glass waiting for me wearing a stupid smile. My heart inflates again. I glance around for my cell mate. He's sitting nearby talking to a woman.
"Thanks for putting money in my account, I was running low on smokes," I tell him.
"Kash. I told him you might still press charges," says Gallagher.
So he's still with towel-head. Another name on my fucking list for when I get out of this shithole.
"Whatever, thanks."
"So guess what, Mickey, it turns out Frank's not really my father."
"You adopted?"
"Nope. Monica had an affair in '95, and I was the product of that. Apparently she fucked one of Frank's brothers. I look just the guy. His wife didn't seem to like me very much when Lip and I visited them. He was trying to find a new family for himself to get away from Frank. I don't really blame him."
Does he ever shut the fuck up? I glance around to make sure my cellmate isn't staring at us. He looks my way a couple of times. I wonder if he can see Gallagher from where he is sitting.
"How long are you going to be in here?"
"A couple months if I don't do anything stupid," I say still looking around.
"Stupid like what?"
"Like stab that fat fucking Mick who keeps trying to steal my jell-o."
"I miss you," says Gallagher. Now I'm looking at him. He's wearing a dumb smirk.
"Say that again and I'll cut your pull your fucking tongue out of your head." To which he just smirks.
I stare at him for a moment and he looks at me like he's staring into the sun. I look away from him. He puts his hand on the glass; I know where this is going. "Take your hand off the glass." My cellmate has figured it out. Fuck.
He's watching us more closely now. It seems he got into an argument with that the woman he was talking to because she got up and left behind Gallagher. My cellmate was escorted out by a guard. I watch him look right at Gallagher on his way out.
"Who's that guy?"
"Don't worry about him."
"Stay away from him, Mickey. He looks dangerous."
"I can take care of myself. You okay about this whole Frank thing?"
"Yeah. I wasn't, but I am now. He's an asshole."
I smile at him for being so accepting of his news. His family means so much to him.
"Tell Mandy to come visit me," I tell him.
"I don't want her coming here, not with him around."
If that motherfucker laid a hand on Mandy it'd be the last fucking time he ever touched anyone. The buzzer sounds. Visitation is over. Gallagher smiles at me one more time. He is the last to leave. I feel a twinge of annoyance after his departure and I linger for a moment in my chair. I touch the glass opposite where his hand was and feel my heart drop into my stomach.
"Let's go, Milkovich," says a guard.
I am thrown back in my cell. At least now I have cigarettes. My cellmate is thrown in too. He turns on me as soon as we're locked in.
"Who was the fucking redhead? Is that Gallagher? After I fucking told you not to mention him again he comes to see you," He says in my face.
"Step the fuck off, asshole. I may have crutches and a bullet wound but I am not scared of you."
"You'll be scared of me, bitch, when I get out of here and fuck up your pretty little boyfriend."
I grab him by the shirt and pull him in close to me. He's taller than I am, but I don't give a shit. This fucking asshole has crossed a line.
"Threaten him again and you'll regret it. You may think you're the top fucking dog around here, but you don't know me. I will fuck you up."
He tries to kiss me. I deck him. Can't say I didn't see that coming.
