Part Twenty-Three: Hurricane Mickey

I hug my pillow and try not to sob too loudly. I feel a tightening in my stomach whenever I think about Mickey breaking up with me. I hug my pillow tighter. He dumped me because of Frank. I sniffle a little and grab a tissue to blow my nose.

"You okay?" Carl asks.

"Go back to sleep," I tell Carl and suppress another sniffle that wants to escape.

"Who hurt you? I'll kick their ass."

"No one, I was dumped," I tell Carl.

"Oh. It's their loss," Carl says before lying back down in bed. I put my pillow over my head to muffle the sounds of my sobbing so I don't wake Carl again, but it becomes hard to breathe. I roll onto my side facing the wall with my knees pulled up in the fetal position and the pillow wrapped in my arms.

Why don't you want to be with me? A sniffle escapes before I can stop it and another follows. I can't stop the endless flow of tears no matter how hard I try. I feel a warm hand on my arm. It's Debbie. She puts a blanket over me and kisses my shoulder.

"I love you," she whispers.

"I love you too, Debs."

"Want me to hold you for a while?" Debbie asks.

I scoot over in my bed and Debbie slides in. I put my head in her lap, while still hugging my pillow. She strokes my hair. I sob quietly. Soft snores are coming from Carl's bed.

"I could you hear sobbing on my way back from the bathroom."

She gives me a tissue to blow my nose and I bury my face in the pillow. I feel Debbie move from stroking my hair to gently rubbing my arms to comfort me. I'm sorry, Mickey. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put myself in danger.

I don't remember falling asleep, but when I wake up Debbie is curled up against me. I lean over and kiss the side of her face and try to find a way to climb over her without waking her. Carl is already up. He's getting dressed quietly.

"Should we carry her back to her room?"

"Nah, just let her lay."

"She's cute when she's sleeping," says Carl, giving Debbie a kiss on the cheek.

"She's cute all the time," I say fondly. I ruffle Carl's hair. He stops me in the hallway.

"Are you still sad?"

"Yeah," I say.

"Would it be weird if I gave you a hug?"

I open my arms and Carl gives me a quick hug. I don't let him out of my arms that easily. Fiona comes by looking very grumpy and muttering something. Monica.

Monica and Frank are downstairs. I want to ignore them. I don't have time for this today. I have to go to work. Monica seeks me out like a missile. She cups my face.

"Frank told me about the Milkovich boy. I'm sorry you're hurting, baby. Tell you what, how about tonight I take you to a gay bar?"

"But," I say.

"It'll be good for you. It will help you move on."

I don't want to move on. I suppress another sniffle. I don't want to cry in front of Monica and Frank. Mickey, please. I'm sorry. I want nothing more than to get back into bed and cry. Fiona hands me a beer and a Snickers bar. Mickey loves Snickers.

"Feel better," Fiona says, hugging me around the shoulder and planting a kiss on my cheek. "I'm sorry, Ian. Break ups are hard."

"I don't want to talk about it, okay," I say and go back upstairs to my room. Debbie is no longer in my bed. I put the beer on the windowsill and put the Snickers on the dresser. I hug my pillow to my chest.

It's my fault. I should have backed off him. I fabricated the whole relationship. We were never more than friends. I sniffle loudly into my pillow and allow myself to really cry. There is a sharp pain inside me that I can't shake. It hurts me enough to force more tears out of me.

"Ian," says Fiona. I feel the bed move with Fiona as she crawls into bed with me. I feel her body heat against me. She lies down and puts her arms around me. She pulls me into her and kisses my shoulder through my shirt. "Let Monica take you clubbing tonight. I think it'll help."

"I don't want to go clubbing," I say. I just want Mickey. I hug my pillow tighter. Fiona tightens her grip on me.

"Ian, you should go to get your mind off this guy. Fuck this guy, whoever he is. He broke my little brother's heart."

"I," sniffle "really" sniffle "like" hitch in my throat "him" and let lose all the built up tears.

"I know you do," Fiona says softly.

Maybe clubbing would help. It would distract me. I shouldn't be moping. Gallagher's don't mope. We drown our sorrows in alcohol and move on. I sit up. Fiona leans on my shoulder and gives me a puppy look.

"I'll go," I tell her. She grins at me.

"If you fuck someone wear a condom. If he offers to pay you; cash up front then sneak out a window. Always keep your drink in your hand."

"Fiona, I know."

"Come on, I'll help you pick out something to wear."

Fiona spends an hour with me helping me choose something to wear. She still has some of Steve, Er, Jimmy-Steve's old clothes. Some of his nicer shirts work. They're a little tight, but Fiona says that's the point.

Monica dresses up too. She doesn't look like a mom. She never really was one. She takes me to a place called "The White Swallow" which I think sounds disgusting, but I digress. A lot of guys look at me when I walk in. Some of them are much, much older.

"You're popular, baby. You're hot."

"This is awkward," I tell her.

"Just pretend I'm not your mother," Monica says. Shouldn't be too difficult.

I end up the object of attention to an Asian man who keeps touching my knee and sliding his hand up my thigh. I smile at him. This is weird.

"You're adorable. Can I buy you a drink?"

"No," I say, remembering what Fiona said.

"What's your name?"

I consider giving him a fake name, "Curtis."

"No way, you're too cute to be named Curtis."

He puts his hand a little too close to my crotch. I need a way out of this. Monica comes over with a young black butch lesbian. She has a type.

"Having fun, baby?" She asks.

"Not really," I say.

"Come on, go mingle. Make a friend."

She pulls me onto the dance floor. As happy as I am to get away from the Asian perv, I would rather sit it out.

"Want to dance?" a man asks. He has dark hair like Mickey's.

"Yeah," I say.