Chapter 25

(Mickey POV)

Mickey closed the bar at one in the morning and finished cleaning up by 1:30. It had been a really slow night—most weeknights were. He was glad he's be able to get home a bit earlier than usual. As he put the day's cash into the safe, he shot Brian a quick text.

[1:34am Mickey: everything's all set for the night]

[1:35am Brian: great, man. any problems?]

[1:35am Mickey: nah. i'm headin home]

[1:36am Brian: thx. have a good night]

Mickey locked up and started walking home. He took out his phone and dialed Gallagher's number. Ian picked up on the third ring.

"Mickey?"

"Hey Firecrotch. Still up?"

"Yeah... Mick? Is something wrong? Why are you calling me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've never called me before..."

Mickey stopped walking. Ian was right; he and Mickey only texted. Mickey wondered what had had him so distracted that he'd spaced out. Maybe it had been the excitement of finishing work early... but deep down, he he knew the real reason was just that he missed Ian and was glad to finally finish work before the younger boy went to sleep. The hour time difference was finally working to Mickey's advantage.

"I'm walking home. My hands are full and this is easier than typing one-handed," he lied. Mickey's hands were completely empty. Yeah, it had nothing to do with the fact that he was nervous about Fiona's response. Mickey resumed walking.

"Oh, okay," Ian said, seemingly accepting Mickey's explanation.

"Well?" Mickey asked. As far as Mickey knew, Gallagher had been planning on talking to Fiona that night—two fucking months after Ian had gone back home. What a little procrastinator...

Ian hadn't texted Mickey about how the conversation with Fiona had gone, and Mickey was getting a little nervous.

"Well what?"

"Did you fucking talk to your sister or not?"

"Yeah... I did..."

Was Ian fucking serious? He was making Mickey actually ask for details?

"And...?" Mickey grunted.

"Well, I told her that I hadn't gone on ROTC trips... I told her that I'd visited you and Mandy, in NY. She was a little surprised because I guess she hadn't thought that Mandy and I had stayed in touch, but I'd say she was more pissed about me lying to her the last three times I visited."

"So you didn't tell her about... anything else?" Mickey had been about to say "us" but it was just too weird for him to say out loud.

"Jeez, I'm getting to that," Ian said, a little exasperated. "So I told her I was sorry for lying to her, but that it hadn't been my secret to tell. I told her that something serious had happened between you guys and Terry, but I couldn't tell her what, and that you had taken Mandy away for her safety, and that you two were living in NY now. She seemed to accept that."

"Okay... so? What else?"

"Well, then I told her about my last visit, on my birthday. About what happened at the bed and breakfast."

Mickey choked. "Wait... what? What the fuck did you tell her?!" Mickey had stopped walking again and was practically screaming into the phone.

Ian just laughed in response, which only infuriated Mickey more. "Calm down, Mick! I mean, I didn't give her the dirty details!" Ian was still laughing. "I just told her that you took me to West Point and then we spent the night there... that we kissed and that now we are a couple."

Mickey tried to regain his composure. He was telling himself not to panic. To just keep breathing.

"Mickey? Are you still there?"

"Y-yeah," Mickey managed to stutter out.

"Are you freaking out? I know you are... don't freak out... Everything is fine." Ian waited for a response but when Mickey didn't say anything else, he continued telling him about the night's discussion. "Well, anyway, I told Fiona that I wanted to go visit you guys again for Thanksgiving, and that if it was okay with her, I wanted to fly."

"Fly?" Mickey asked, surprised.

"Yeah, you know, in a plane..."

"Fuck you man, I know what flying is." Mickey would have punched Ian if it had been possible. "Isn't that shit too expensive?"

"Well, I told you about Fiona's job at the cup place. Things have gotten a little easier for us, at least in terms of money. I mean, it's not like we are rich or anything! Not by any means... but it feels a little better, you know? There isn't this constant stress of not knowing if we can afford to pay the electric bill, or if we will need to sleep in our coats at night because we can't afford to put the heat on... Basically, she told me that as long as I can afford to buy a ticket with what I make from working at the Kash and Grab, she's okay with me going."

It took a while for Mickey's brain to process all the information from Ian. "So, wait a minute. That means you're coming? She said okay?"

Ian laughed. "Yeah, she said okay. I was looking at flights all night—that's why I didn't get a chance to text you."

Mickey was still in shock. The good news hadn't settled yet. "And that means you'll actually be here for Thanksgiving dinner, not stuck on a fucking 20-hour bus ride?"

"Yeah..."

If Mickey was the kind of guy to jump for joy, he'd be doing it. Instead, his heart took on that role. Mickey imagined it doing cartwheels in his chest. He took a few deep breaths to calm down.

"Cool," was all he said out loud. Mickey had reached the apartment, but he sat on the steps, not wanting to wake Mandy up.

"Yeah, it's cool..." Ian repeated his own word back to him and Mickey cringed at how lame a reaction it was.

"I can't wait to see you," he said eventually, feeling bad for not making his excitement obvious to Gallagher. "I've really missed you." It was almost a whisper, but he knew Ian heard it.

"I've missed you too, Mick."

"Good. So you'd better hurry the fuck up and get over here," Mickey said, "'cause I don't know how much longer I can take shoving my fingers into my own ass while jerking off..."

Ian audibly gasped on the other end of the line. "You only have to wait another month. I'll text you my flight info."

"'Kay... Hey, I'm at the apartment. I'll talk to ya tomorrow?"

"Sure. 'Night, Mick."

Mickey didn't say bye. He just hung up the phone. He didn't like the idea of saying goodbye to Gallagher. He sat with his elbows against his knees and had his chin propped up by his hands. He looked down the block at all the houses decorated with Halloween shit: pumpkins on the stoops, graves and scarecrows in the lawns, fake cobwebs hanging from the trees. If this had been South Side Chicago, his brothers would have already seen to smashing the pumpkins. He smirked.

Spirits high, Mickey made his way upstairs quietly. He was ready to pass out. He walked straight to his room and only bothered kicking off his boots before going to sleep, still wearing all of his clothes. He had a dreamless, heavy sleep, and didn't even notice the whimpering noises occasionally coming from Mandy's room.