Sorry for the wait, but it took a while to get this chapter to feel like it flowed. Now that it's done, I believe I am happy with it. Two more chapters to go! Yay! Please review and remember that I don't own Recess (sadly).

Chapter 4 - Mikey

"See you later, Mikey!"

"Great work today."

"Thanks for the help!"

"Thank you, guys," Mikey called after his departing dance troop. "Have a wonderful evening."

With the door to the aerobics room closed leaving him alone, Mikey allowed his seemingly ever-present smile to disappear. He took a deep breath and turned to look back at his reflection in the wall of mirrors. His smile didn't return. Dance practice had been splendid. His practice for the upcoming community theatre production had been splendid. Hanging out with Gus earlier today had been splendid. However, Mikey did not feel splendid. He didn't even feel fine. He felt worn-down. Lacking in motivation.

Mikey considered himself quite well off in life, especially when looking at the people in his life. He worked with wonderful people in all the activities he participated in, his family was always supportive, and his group of friends were loyal beyond belief some days. However, Mikey occasionally felt the toll that bullying took. Today was one of those days that the judgmental looks, whispered words, and occasional hurtful phrase aimed at him just made him feel...tired. One group of teens in particular seemed to choose him for ridicule that day. They scattered hurtful phrases just enough to make sure Mikey heard them but did not alert others with their frequency or volume.

The already slightly-stressful summer with the group trying to have as much fun as they did with Spinelli began to weigh on Mikey like a cinderblock on his back. Sure, his friends were supportive, but Mikey could feel the lack of energy caused by Spinelli's absence. He personally felt a loss of protection. Yes, Mikey could stand up for himself. He was strong in his own way. However, having Spinelli's no-nonsense attitude and fierce loyalty helped keep up his defenses, fighting the battles even he wasn't aware of. The larger teen was absolute sure that Spinelli has fought some of his battles for him—literally. Mikey has seen T.J. restraining her from ripping apart cruel adolescents he knows have mocked him before. He was grateful, no doubt, but he wished that she would find a less-violent way of fighting. That would not be Spinelli though. He fought with words and she fought with fists.

He sure missed her.

Mikey turned on the music to one of his favorite slow songs, took a deep breath, and began to dance. He closed his eyes and went through his routine from memory. However, he soon strayed from the current routine his dance group was working on and danced whatever he felt. Most of it was slow—melancholy—dancing a more interpretive dance on the ill feelings he currently was experiencing.

The aerobics room where Mikey and his team practiced their routine was in the middle of a recreational center. Many people came to work out there. Their fit forms taunted Mikey. Usually, the larger teenager was able to push away the inferior feeling he felt, but sometimes it was too much, and it overwhelmed him.

The song faded away. When it ended completely, Mikey finished with a slip, arms in the air, eyes still closed. He allowed his emotions to rush through him for the time being. Tears pooled in his eyes but had yet to fall.

Mikey was so wrapped up in his own thoughts and emotions that he did not hear the subtle sounds of someone who sneaked into the room and was creeping up behind him. Said person placed their hands on Mikey's eyes and laughed.

"Guess who, Big Guy!"

Spinelli.

Spinelli had struck out in her search for her old clothing so she decided to blow of some steam at the gym. That is, until she saw Mikey through the window to the aerobics room. She hadn't seen him yet and thought it would be fun to surprise him. Mikey always loved surprises.

Mikey did love surprises. This one was especially lovable. Spinelli herself. Wonderful, riveting, loyal Spinelli. Spinelli was here and not in Italy, keeping their group of friends from being complete. She was here, behind him. A pillar of strength in his moment of weakness. The overwhelming relief was just the trigger necessary for his emotions to take over.

"Mikey?" Spinelli pulled her hands away, feeling the wetness left on them from Mikey's tears. She watched her friend suddenly crumble into himself. He curled his legs close and put his hands over his face to hide his sensitive display. For a moment, Spinelli was at a loss of what to do. Sure, Mikey had cried before—he was never afraid of showing emotion. Everyone was used to it. He even fake-cried for his performances. But this? Something seriously had to be wrong for him to cry so forcefully.

"Aw Mikey." Spinelli got down on her knees. At first she simply placed her hand on his shoulder, but then, when Mikey kept leaning closer to her, she wrapped her arms around him and allowed him to shed tears over her new jacket straight from an Italian tailor. She patiently waited out Mikey's episode.

Finally, the teen's eyes dried. Only a few stray sniffles remained. He pulled back and hiccupped while trying to laugh.

"I apologize, Spinelli," Mikey said, his voice raw. "You have returned and you received such a horrendous greeting from me. One—hic—moment more and I shall be composed." Spinelli's expression, to Mikey, seemed to portray extreme concern. Honestly, he didn't want her to be unhappy because of him. So he tried composing himself faster. It proved difficult when his nose kept running and fat teardrops still fell from his eyes.

Black leather was suddenly thrust in his face. His surprise stalls Mikey in his understanding of what to do with the object.

"Take it and wipe your face. You're gushing everywhere," Spinelli said. She didn't look at him when she spoke.

"But Spinelli, this looks brand—hic—brand new." This smooth leather was shiny with beauty. Not worn and full of repaired rips, tares, and holes like the one Spinelli had had for years. She must have gotten it in Italy. "How can I—hic—take such a beauty? I might ruin it."

Spinelli laughed. She looked at her friend when she did so. "Please ruin my jacket. That'll teach mom not to make me wear girly stuff. I still have my old one. Besides, you already got your snot on it. No harm in a little more."

Mikey still hesitated. "I—hic—"

"Just take it!" Spinelli exclaimed, putting it in his hands.

Mikey did as told, dabbing his eyes, nose, and forehead (he worked up a sweat while dancing). When finished, Mikey's eyes were dry, and he feels no need to cry. Actually, he felt at peace. Vince once asked him why he cried so much. Mikey told him it was a healthy release rather than bottling up unhealthy emotions that can come out in less desirable outlets. It makes his happiness happier when he feels sadness on occasion.

"It's good to see you, Spinelli," Mikey said as he handed the jacket back to Spinelli. The short teen took it, wadded it up, and tossed it to the edge of the room. There it laid in a crumpled mess. There was a pause of silence which Mikey expected Spinelli to fill. She did not, so Mikey did. "How was your summer? Was Italy—?"

"Cut the crap, Mikey," Spinelli said, all laughter gone. Anger appears now but underneath, concern drove the extreme emotion. "What were you crying about?"

Mikey sighed. Spinelli was not afraid of confrontation. One way or another she would get the answers out of you. Mikey knew it would be useless to try and brush this one under the rug.

"Nothing new. I simply grew tired of the comments others make about my weight. But life is not without pain. 'Happiness is not a life without pain, but rather a life in which the pain is traded for a worthy price' as spoken by Orson Scott Card." Mikey tried smiling, but Spinelli's frown stomped it out pretty quickly. "I am no strangers to bullies, Spinelli. This summer simply had a few too many."

"Why now? What made you cry now?" Spinelli questioned stoically. Mikey really was surprised at her ability to keep a straight face when confronting so much emotion. He usually took on whatever emotion the speaker was feeling.

"There were a few teenagers who made fun of my size earlier today when I first came here." Mikey sighed again, still feeling the residual effects of his cry. "They were...less discreet with their mockery. It even affected my dancing. I did not dance my best during practice today. It...I am tired."

Spinelli's heavy breathing and clenched fists were the first indication that she was on the war path. She spoke through clenched teeth when she said "I'll kill 'em. I'll tear them to pieces. I'll—"

"No, Spinelli! That is the one thing you mustn't do!" Mikey put a restraining hand on Spinelli's forearm. He knows in the long run it won't do too much if Spinelli's mind is set on ruining the physical lives of those who did him wrong. She would find a way, but he hoped his plea and their friendship meant more than her revenge. "I realize they are in the wrong and that their hearts are not where they should be, but I would never wish harm on anyone. It pains me to see others in pain. If you must fight and I am the cause, please fight with your words or do not fight at all! For my sake. Please."

It took a full minute and a half for Spinelli to calm down enough not to jump to her feet and hunt down those good-for-nothings. Mikey's pleading face held her back more than anything anyone could have done physically to her then. Mikey was sensitive. She knew that. She tried respecting that. It was difficult and sometimes she offends him. Thankfully he understood that her personality was different than his. He quickly and easily forgave when she overstepped boundaries.

"They're stupid."

"Now Spinelli—"

"No, Mikey. They. Are. Stupid." Spinelli's earnestness was expressed verbally and nonverbally. She got on her knees and leaned towards Mikey, using her hands for emphasis as she made her point. "For one, they're stupid for judging people in general. And two, they mocked the nicest guy I know who wouldn't even harm a fly and that makes them cowards for trying to pick a fight with someone who has the desire to fight that equals a butterfly's. And C, they don't know you. You need that weight. Without that weight you wouldn't be able to throw those girls in the air and catch them again. Those shrimpy dorks can't do that. Besides, there is no one I know that can win a hot dog eating contest and a pie eating contest in the same day. Worst of all, they don't know that you are probably the best pal anyone could have."

Spinelli paused in her rant to take a breath. It was like all her strength not aimed at beating someone up was redirected into her words.

Mikey was at a loss for words. He sat there, staring at Spinelli. Spinelli finally took notice of his shock and dipped her head in embarrassment. No matter her embarrassment, though, she pressed on. He needed to hear this.

"You are so nice all the time Mikey. It's like a super power for you. I know you know that the world is filled with some really cruel people, but you still try to find the good in people. You see the good in me, even. I'm not the...nicest person ever. You help me to not bash in someone's skull by pointing out all their good points rather than just holding me back. I—I'm...I'm really glad you're my friend. Like, really glad. Anytime you wanna cry or something, go ahead. I'm not gonna judge you like those idiots. You are the best already so you don't need to change your body or how you deal with stuff. You're doin' pretty good by yourself."

The tears almost came back at that last phrase. Mikey grabbed Spinelli. He picked her up and hugged the stuffing out of her. He could hear her back crack and her choking attempt at breathing. He would let go before she died of strangling, but he needed to hug her. He needed her to tangibly feel his gratefulness for her words. Talking was not Spinelli's strong suit, and any attempt from her to put her thoughts into words was appreciated. This little display she gave was far beyond appreciated. Appreciated was an understatement.

"Thank you, dear Spinelli," Mikey said wholeheartedly. He finally let her go. Spinelli fell onto the floor in a heap. She gasped for breath while on her hands and knees. When she recovered, she stood up and smiled.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get all mushy on me." Spinelli's smile faltered momentarily. "Sorry for calling you Big Guy all the time."

Mikey laughed. He didn't even think about that. "Oh Spinelli, you mean it out of love, not hate. I know the difference between a nickname and name-calling. Besides, I am a big guy."

Spinelli's smile returned full-force. "Good." The spitfire rocked on her feet a moment. A debate was going on in her head. Mikey could tell by the concentrated look on her face, that's why he waits patiently for her to speak. "Hey. Since you're feeling better, I bet your dance mojo is back. Ya wanna dance? I'll...I'll be your partner."

Mikey's already large smile grew. "Spinelli, you haven't been my dance partner since Third Street School. Are you certain?"

Spinelli moved passed her embarrassment, gave out a slight huff, and crossed her arms in determination. "What? Ya wanna dance alone?"

"No, no. I was just wondering if you could handle it." Mikey's challenging grin was what informed Spinelli that he was joking, further baiting her into dancing and helping her get over her nerves at not having danced in years.

"Oh, I can handle it. Bring it on, Big Guy."

—

An hour later, the two friends finally had to stop dancing since the facility was closing. They left the place joking and laughing. Both friends were in high spirits. That is, until laughter that was not their own, reached their ears. It was a laugh of mockery, not of joy. Spinelli and Mikey turned to see another group of people. Mikey recognized them as the teens from earlier who had made fun of him. Spinelli noticed his tenseness.

"Is that them?" Spinelli asked.

"Yes," Mikey said reluctantly. Then added "Please do not engage physically."

Spinelli simply gritted her teeth and did not respond.

"Hey Hefty!" one of the boys from the group yelled. "Did the gym actually do you any good? I don't see a change."

"Come, Spinelli. We do not need to humor their ill attempts at humor. The true comedian, Shakespeare, has far outdone them." Mikey pulled on the girl's arm, but still she refused to move despite him having several inches and pounds on her. Maybe if he had the guts, he could move her. But who dare try to force Spinelli into anything?

"Is that your girlfriend? Does she know what she's getting into?" One of the two girls in the group asked, earning chuckles from the others.

"How about coming with us instead, sweet cheeks?" another of the boys asked.

"How about shutting your face?" Spinelli called back. Her voice was surprisingly calm.

"Oooh, got some fight in you, I see," the same boy said. He took a few steps closer to the two friends. "How about ditching the dunce and enjoying some real company?"

"He is not a dunce," Spinelli said. "You are and I hate you. Scum!"

This didn't seem to faze anyone from the other group. Spinelli turned back to Mikey. She frowned. "I'm not good with fighting with words. This is why I use my fists."

Mikey's heart swelled with appreciation. Spinelli actually did respect his wishes and tried fighting with words instead of fists. Mikey patted her on her shoulder and stepped forward. "Thank you, Spinelli. That was a valiant attempt. If I may, I would like to demonstrate on how to fight with words."

Spinelli bowed out. She backed away and stood to the side with a smile of anticipation on her face. Mikey cleared his throat. These goons didn't know what they unleashed.

"My good man," Mikey said to the first boy, "thou art an artless idle-headed varlot!"

That was just the start. Mikey unleashed a slew of Shakespearean smack-down without a stutter holding him back. His strong lungs held enough air to insult each person twice-over. The variety of names being called to the four dishonorable groupmates were no match for Mikey's knowledge of seemingly endless amount of Shakespearean insults. When Mikey finally finished up his long-winded, tasteful word-fight, all those around him were stunned. The silence that followed was deafening. Mikey gave a small bow to his foes before turning and offering Spinelli his arm which she gladly took, sticking her tongue out at the flabbergasted four behind her.

"Impressive," Spinelli said to her friend.

"Why thank you." Happiness swelled within Mikey. "You see, Spinelli, not everything has to be fought with fists."

However, rather than leaving things as they were, the most obnoxious of the four refused to have them leave without getting the last word. He then proceeded to do a very stupid thing. He insulted Spinelli. "Yeah keep walking, Fatty! And take your—" the words that followed were directed at Spinelli and of the most abhorrent any female could hear. Spinelli stopped in her tracks. Her face was void of emotion. She casually looked up at Mikey. Her unanswered question has Mikey shrugging.

"Hey, they didn't insult me. It isn't my battle. Fight your battle however you deem worthy."

Spinelli gave Mikey a brief hug. "Thanks, Mikey. Don't wait up. This could take a while. I want to make sure they get the message that name-calling isn't nice." She then turned, threw her already ruined jacket onto the ground, and let out a war cry. The four troublemakers screamed and ran in terror as Spinelli charged after them, fully intended to fight her battle the way she does best—by bringing Madame Fist into the mix.

The larger, but gentler, teen watched as Spinelli tackled the man that insulted her to the ground, burying his face in the dirt. That would only be the start. There was no doubt in Mikey's mind that she would continue maiming the unfortunate soul then hunt the others down so they could feel her wrath.

Mikey chuckled to himself and began walking home. It was good to have the backbone of the group back in action.