Part Eighty-Three: Juvie Reunion

I haven't been able to stop crying since we watched Brokeback Mountain last night. I had finally talked Mickey into a viewing. We cuddled on the couch with a large bowl of popcorn and a case of beer. Ryan had a date so he wasn't home, and Mandy was out with Kenyatta for the evening. Mickey tried to get Svetlana to buzz off so we could have privacy but she stayed and watched the movie with us.

I'm curled around Mickey in bed sobbing hysterically. I can't seem to stop. Every time I think about how Ennis held Jack's jacket and hugged it after he died I cry more. Mickey rubs my back and pulls me in close.

"I'm sorry," I sob into Mickey's shirt.

"No. It's okay. I was upset too. It was a sad movie. Those cowboys were hot though."

I smell nicotine. Mickey's smoking. He strokes my head and presses his lips to my ears. I tug on his boxers and whimper a little before sniffling. Mickey tightens his grip around me again.

"Seriously, you're still in bed its 11, and we have plans," Ryan says.

"Fuck off," Mickey says.

"No. Go, I'll be okay," I tell Mickey.

"I'm not fucking leaving you here like this."

"Go. You have plans with a friend. Don't let me stop you."

"Whoa, what's wrong?" Ryan asks concerned. He sits down on the bed and strokes my forehead. I lean my head onto his lap and choke back a sob.

"We watched Brokeback Mountain last night and Ian's having a hard time letting it go," Mickey says kindly.

"Sometimes movies stay with us," Ryan says, "Do you want to reschedule?"

"No. I said to go, I'll be fine," I say again.

"Why don't you come?" Ryan asks.

"Me," I ask, sniffling. I sit up and wipe at my eyes. I look at Mickey whose eyes are filled with affection, concern, and something else. I peck him a kiss. He wipes the tears off my face.

I get dressed slowly. Ryan and Mickey are waiting for me. Mickey holds my hand as we walk. I have no idea where we are going, but I don't really care. Just being out of the house today feels good. I try not to feel sad anymore.

"Oh look a cat," I say and point to a stray that has come up to me. I kneel to pet it.

"We're not getting a cat," Mickey reminds me again.

"I'm allowed to pet it," I snap.

Mickey and Ryan's plans included visiting all their old friends from juvie most of which were out now. They met up at a local park. Most of them looked really, really bad. One guy was clearly showing signs of meth usage. He couldn't have been much older than me, but he looked thirty.

"Damn, Gallagher, looking good. Why are you still with this asshole?" Asks a guy who was a little too friendly. I can feel Mickey's body temperature rising. He's not happy with this guy. When the guy moves a little too close to me Mickey physically grabs him by the waist and pulls him away from me.

"Fuck off, Crosby. I'm serious," Mickey says.

"Mickey, you haven't changed at all, but fuck your boyfriend has."

He still winks at me before he checks me out again. I smile.

"So, they finally let you guys out," Ryan says.

We all sit down. Mickey and Ryan start talking to the guys. Mickey tries to include me but it doesn't work. I don't fit in with these guys.

"Mickey, I'm going over there," I whisper. He gives me a light squeeze, but doesn't look at me. He's too invested in their conversation, which is rare because Mickey isn't typically chatty. He just feels comfortable around Ryan and those other three.

I slip away to have a smoke on the swing. Crosby breaks away from the discussion and comes over. He begins to push me on the swing, lightly at first, and then he really pushes hard. When I slow down he stops the swing and stares into my eyes.

"You're too good for Mickey, babe."

I roll my eyes. He'd be good looking, I guess, maybe if I wasn't with Mickey. I won't cheat again. I won't. Especially not with this guy.

"If Mickey sees you he'll kick your ass," I tell him. I could kick his ass, but it'd be more fun watching Mickey do it. He strokes my face. I pull back.

"Don't resist me. I think you're fucking amazing."

"You don't know me."

Crosby yanks me out of the swing by my t-shirt. I throw a punch at him and he grabs my arms and pins them back with impressive strength. Fuck. I resist.

"I've wanted you since you were the first time I saw you in juvie."

He tugs so hard on my t-shirt that it slips off of me. Crosby rubs my bare chest and relishes in the sight. I try to get up and grab my shirt, but I can't. His impressive strength has me pinned. I struggle and he hits me.

"Mi—" I start to holler until he knees me in the groin.

"You holler for Mickey and I will rape the fuck out of you right now," Crosby whispers.

"Oh look there's Mickey," I lie. When Crosby looks I use it as a chance to get away. I leave my shirt where it is and walk back to the picnic table. Mickey takes one look at me and flares up.

"What the fuck happened to you? Jesus, Ian, were you in a fight?"

He didn't ask me if I fucked someone. It doesn't take him long to draw that conclusion. Mickey sits me down beside Ryan who starts examining my bruises, or the bruises that are going to form any second now from that asshole.

"I turn my back for one second and you run off and fuck someone."

"I didn't fuck him. I didn't want anything to do with him. I was having a smoke on the swing and…" I don't continue. Gallagher's don't snitch. Ryan is poking my ribs to check to see if any are broken. He looks at Mickey.

"Where the fuck did he touch you?"

I don't answer.

"Mickey," says Ryan, "I don't think Ian has any broken ribs, but he is bruised. He looks like he's in an abusive relationship, though." Ryan strokes my hair and pats me on the shoulder. I wince from the bruise I have there and Ryan turns me to look at my back. "Fuck, Ian."

"Can we go home?"

Crosby comes back to the table. Mickey shoots him a look.

"Where the fuck were you?" asks Meth-Head.

"I was pissing."

"Did you see who attacked Gallagher?"

"Can we go home?" I ask again, but Mickey's not listening. He's glaring at Crosby. I tug on Mickey's shirt. He swats at my hand. "I want to go!"

"No. He was attacked?" Crosby acted every bit like the typical rapist. He denied everything but wore a stupid arrogance and he looked right at me. I look away from him at Ryan who I only just realized had a protective grip on my arm. I smile at him.

"Mickey, can we go?" I ask again.

"I'm going to find your shirt, Ian," Mickey says finally.

"Will you be okay for a minute?" Ryan asks.

I nod. Ryan and the other guys disperse to help Mickey find my shirt. I am left alone. Crosby creeps back around and bends down in front of me.

"You fucking tell anyone and I'll finish the job." He kisses me. I turn my head away from him. He grabs it and makes me look at him. "Did Ryan ever tell you why I was in juvie? This pretty thirteen-year-old lived next to me and I had watched him every day. Well, he had to go and blab to his parents that I forced myself on him. He wasn't nearly as pretty as you." He kisses me again, before he walks away as he sees Ryan coming back.

Ryan sits down beside me and I reach for his hand. I look him in the eyes and he understands. He holds my hand and scoots close to me. "Don't tell Mickey," I whisper. Ryan doesn't respond. I won't get mad at him if he does tell Mickey. He knows that.

"You okay?" Mickey asks leaning over to pick wood chips out of my hair. He kisses the top of my head.

I want to say it. I want to give that motherfucker justice, but I can't. I guess I'm afraid. This isn't the first time I was taken advantage of. The other times I was extremely drugged up and passed out before anything happened.

I look at Ryan. He wants me to tell Mickey. Gallagher's don't snitch.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I lie to Mickey.

Mickey looks at Ryan. Ryan has no poker face. Soon Mickey gets it out of Ryan. But before Mickey can act I grab his hand. "Can we go, please?" Mickey let's go of me and we all notice that Crosby has disappeared. Yeah, show your guilt, asshat.

But Mickey won't stop. I get up and start walking. Fuck him. I put on my shirt and walk towards home. Ryan catches up to me. He's out of breath. I don't slow down for him.

"He loves you," Ryan says.

"He ignored me."

"He's trying to protect you."

"I just want to go," I tell him calmly. Ryan nods.

"This is my fault. Mickey and I were supposed to meet up with our old juvie buddies. No one was supposed to get hurt."

"No, it's my fault. I had to be a whiny bitch this morning. You only invited me because Mickey wouldn't leave me behind. He hasn't been leaving me alone much lately."

"It's never the victim's fault," Ryan says rubbing my arm affectionately.

My phone rings. It's Mickey. I let it ring a couple times before I answer it. Mickey wants to know where I am. I stop at a gas station nearby so Mickey can catch up with us. He pulls me into a massive bear hug. I wince from my bruises.

I fill up a 32 ounce soda and head to the counter to pay. The girl looks me over; she looks at Mickey, then back at me. She leans forward. "Are you in some kind of trouble?" She looks around and leans in closer. "I could call the cops and have your abusive asshole boyfriend arrested."

"I'm fine. He didn't hit me."

She leaned even closer until our faces were inches apart, "Look, I know you're scared and he's right there, but I could help you. My boyfriend used to be abusive. Now I have a protection order against him."

I pay her and step away but she continues to watch me as Mickey and Ryan talk. Mickey goes to the bathroom. I wait next to Ryan. The girl's manager comes over and pulls me aside to talk to me.

"I've called the police. Kelsey said she saw your boyfriend hit you. We're going to get you some help. Are you okay? I'll let her reimburse you for that drink."

"My boyfriend didn't hit me," I tell him calmly.

"Mickey's going to shit Frisbees," Ryan says when the police arrive.

This is all my fault. Fuck.

"What the fuck is going on?" Mickey asks.

"Mick, they think you abused me. It's a big misunderstanding," I tell him as a few cops seize him and handcuff him. Mickey rolls his eyes and goes outside with him. The cashier tells a police officer waiting inside what she thinks happened.

"Did your boyfriend hit you?" he asks me.

"No. I told them both that."

"Ian, I think you better tell them what really happened," Ryan says.

"Who are you?"

"He's my friend," I say.

"Mr. Gallagher, please tell me what happened."

"Gallagher's don't snitch."

"Mickey could go to jail," Ryan says.

I look outside at Mickey who is pressed against a police car and being checked for weapons. They throw a knife down on the hood of the police car and Mickey's gun. But he has a permit for that one.

"I was at the park with Ryan and Mickey and they were talking to some old friends from their days in juvie. I was bored so I went to the swings to have a smoke. One of their juvie buddies attacked me. He wanted to fuck me. He told me he would rape me if I screamed for Mickey. This is a big misunderstand. Mickey wouldn't hurt me. Can I please go home?"

"Give us the name of the man who attacked you, Mr. Gallagher."

"Winston Crosby," Ryan says, "He's not originally from the south side. He's a suburban kid like me."

After much debate and persistence they let me go. They release Mickey and we embrace. He holds me tight. I kiss his cheek. He kisses my neck. Mickey flips off the cashier who called the cops on him. We leave with Ryan.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"Are you okay?" Mickey asks.

"No," I tell him honestly.

"I didn't fucking think so."

"Can we go home now?"

"Yeah, we can go home."

I kiss Mickey's forehead and we walk hand in hand. Mickey pats Ryan on the back.