Just a quick note: towards the end I switch to Kiera's POV.
Mandy visited Mickey a month later because apparently "so much shit" had been going on with her skanky friends that she hadn't had the time.
"You think I give a fuck?" Mickey asked once Mandy had finished explaining her excuse.
She rolled her eyes then took off her black beanie. "So... your asshole still intact?" she asked, smirking, because apparently she still found the whole 'drop the soap in the showers get you ass fucked' thing hilarious.
"Fuck off, I'm surprised you even know that word means," he retorted, relaxing back in his seat.
She stuck her gloved middle finger up at him. "I'm not as stupid as you think I am," she mumbled like a little kid.
Mickey couldn't help but laugh at the site of his sister pouting. Honestly, he had missed her. Especially over Christmas because it was their own little tradition that every Christmas morning they got up ridiculously early before anyone else and exchanged stupid gifts like stuffed animals and shot glasses that they didn't even bother wrapping. It was fucking dumb and corny but Mickey kind of loved it secretly, though he pretended that it annoyed him.
"Well the card you sent me was fuckin' stupid as shit," he said with a smirk.
Mandy instantly perked up. "You got it?"
"Yeah, I got it."
"Thought you'd like it, it had penguins on."
Mickey frowned at her in confusion. "So?"
"Well, duh! Penguins are your favourite animal, assface."
Mickey snorted. "Yeah, when I was like fuckin' ten years old."
When she began to fiddle with a bit of her hair, he noticed how the bright coloured streaks were gone and it was a little shorter. Mickey thought it was weird how someone's hair could completely change how they looked. Then again, Ian's haircut had had the same effect, only difference being Mandy didn't now look too fuckable for her own good.
"You hair's different," he commented for no real reason.
Mandy looked down at her lap. "Yeah."
"At least it looks fuckin' normal now."
She smiled to herself and Mickey knew it was because she understood that that was actually a compliment.
They sat there for a bit, neither of them saying anything because neither of them were very good at wording things and weren't sure what they were supposed to be talking about.
"So, uh, you made any friends?" Mandy asked.
A snort left Mickey before he could stop, before he could realise that yes, he had actually made a friend. In a way. "Sorta," he muttered.
Mandy's eyebrows furrowed slightly.
"I have to go to this fucking anger management class and there's this girl, Kiera. She's alright." She's actually pretty cool, he thought.
She laughed hard. "I don't know what's more shocking: the fact that you have a friend or that you met her in an anger management class," she said through laughter.
"Fuck off," he said through gritted teeth, though her reaction was justified.
"What's she like?"
"I dunno, she's just some girl." Mickey thought he didn't really have the words in his vocabulary to describe Kiera so he wasn't even going to try.
That was how the rest of Mandy's visit went: she asked questions and Mickey muttered out half assed answers until he couldn't stop himself from asking any longer.
"Ian still treating you right?" he asked, trying his best to make it sound casual but hoping she'd say more than just 'yes'. "Not giving you any shit?" Because as far as he knew Mandy and Ian were still pretending to date. It angered Mickey more than he'd like it to.
"Oh yeah, he's fine," she said casually.
So, what? He was treating her fine or he himself was fine? Mickey wanted to ask but that wasn't what he did; he didn't ask how people were because he wasn't supposed to care about the answer. He wanted to throttle Ian for simply existing and making him into the kind of fucking idiot who might possibly give a shit.
Mandy left soon after and Mickey went straight to his anger management class, in the mood to get into a fight. Kiera was the first person he saw and she must have sensed something was up because she literally ran to him from across the room, grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him to the back of the room in the corner by the radiator that they sat by now that it was too cold to be hanging out of a window.
"The fuck, Kiera, you trying to break my damn arm?" he asked, rubbing at his shoulder that he genuinely thought might have been pulled from it's socket.
Kiera sat down, back against the radiator and Mickey sat beside her. "You looked like you were going to hit somebody," she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Yeah, so what if I fucking was?" he asked through gritted teeth, his fists clenched.
"You would be kicked out of the class and I wouldn't get to experience your charming ways on a weekly basis," her voice was so soft and it confused Mickey because he knew she was being sarcastic yet it sounded like she genuinely meant it.
When he didn't reply, Kiera got up and knelt between his spread legs cupping his cheek. It was the first time Mickey had seen her looking the way she did: her impossibly black hair scraped back loosely into a messy bun. Christ, she was beautiful.
"Who visited you? Was it your friend Ian?"
Mickey had regretted telling Kiera about Ian - she had asked about any friends in his neighborhood so he mentioned Ian, how they worked in the same store and how he was dating his sister, that was all, but she knew, of course she knew - as soon as she had asked if he was also gay. The reasoning behind why Mickey had answered honestly was beyond him.
He sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck. "My sister," he finally said at the same time she let go of him.
"Oh. Well it must be something Ian related because you have that face-"
"What fucking face?" he interrupted, frowning.
A smirk spread across her own. "Whenever I ask you questions about him or you begrudgingly talk about him you get this face. I don't know why you won't just admit that he was your boyfriend because you know I know and-"
"He was not my fucking boyfriend," he said slowly, looking her right in the eye as if that would make it get through to her. "He wasn't anything, we just fucked, end of."
"Why do you even bother lying to me? Juts get it over with and tell me," she said with a sweet smile like that would be all it'd take.
Dumbass, Mickey thought, but then she threatened to tell Richard that he wasn't in on their agreement anymore because she just loved blackmail. So he gave in: told her about how he and Ian were casually fucking, then about Kash and the shooting, then about getting out of juvie the first time and Ian getting him a job, and finally he told her about Frank and how he had no other choice, he had to fucking do something. He told her all of that and everything inbetween because his mouth was working faster than his brain.
"Oh," she sighed out. "And you're still claiming that he wasn't your boyfriend?"
Mickey gave her a threatening look and his jaw clenched as if it had a mind of it's own. No, Ian wasn't his fucking boyfriend and Mickey was never his. They were two people who had sex and occasionally hung out. That didn't make them a couple. Did it? No, Mickey thought, no it fucking didn't... Please mean it didn't.
Sensing that his sudden tense body movements were his answer, Kiera sat back down beside him and sighed like she was exhausted and confused which was weird - not just Kiera weird - because she always seemed to have all the answers to questions that weren't even asked.
Observing was her favourite thing to do and it allowed her to learn things you could never learn at school. She had wisdom that a seventeen year old shouldn't have possessed. She was empathetic and sympathetic despite growing up in a selfish household that taught her the differences between good people who did bad things and bad people who did good things for their own narcissistic reasons.
That was how she knew that Mickey wasn't really a mean person that didn't care about people. Equally, that was how she knew that Mickey hated himself more than anybody else ever could, even his homophobic father. That was how she knew that he didn't hate himself because he was gay but because that fact alone made him vulnerable; he hated himself because he had found someone who also knew all of this, knew too much about him, and still wanted to be around him, still thought that they shouldn't feel ashamed; he hated himself because he liked someone and that meant that what happened to his heart, that was already broken beyond repair, was no longer in his hands.
For once, Kiera didn't know what to say to make Mickey feel at least slightly better about the situation. Over the past few months she had found out that cheering Mickey up - if that was really the right term - was something she was good at. That was different now. Now that words had failed her.
She took a hold of one of his clenched fists with both hands and held it softly and thought and thought, until that was all she figured she could do, yet her mind remained empty. How could she think about anything when she was sat beside the saddest person she had ever met?