Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12546280.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      The_Goonies_(1985)
  Relationship:
      Andy_Carmichael/Brand_Walsh/Mikey_Walsh
  Character:
      Andy_Carmichael, Brand_Walsh, Mikey_Walsh
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, Threesome_-_F/M/M, Consensual_Underage_Sex, Night
      Terrors, Underage_Character(s), Hormonal_Teenagers, High_School,
      Teenagers_and_Their_Drama
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-29 Updated: 2017-11-10 Chapters: 2/? Words: 6763
****** Teenage blues (I hate you) ******
by Taylahlovee
Summary
     Mikey hates being the third wheel almost as much as he hates being
     the smallest.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
                                     O n e
It had been nearly three years. Three whole years. One thousand and three days,
roughly, if he divided the year into quarters, there would be just around a
quarter left. So here he was, approximately one thousand and three days, three
hours, fifteen minutes and- he checked the crappy pocket watch in his hand
again- thirty-two seconds later. All those years and he still felt like barely
any time had passed at all.
Brand shifted next to him, reminding Mikey of his presence, and why he was
there. He still had the recurring nightmares. They had originally started the
week following Mikey and the rest of the Goonies’ ‘adventure' down in the
tunnels underneath the restaurant, and the trouble with the Fratelli's. His mom
had taken him to a therapist to get him checked out after she had gotten one
too many calls from the school saying he had been falling asleep during
classes, and after finding out why he had been having so many restless nights.
They'd prescribed him with some useless pills to help him sleep, and they
worked for a few weeks, but soon after the nightmares came back in full force.
He'd woken up one night from a particularly bad one, and ended up flushing the
whole contents of the container since all they did by then was make him feel
drowsy and make it exceptionally hard to concentrate on anything. He hadn't had
the heart to tell his mom, and he didn't want her to worry, so she kept
renewing the prescription and he kept flushing them.
Brand was the only one who knew he still had the nightmares. He hadn’t bothered
to tell anyone, especially none of the other Goonies. After all, there was a
reason Clark was called Mouth. Brand was the one he told everything to, and he
eventually found out everything, even things Mikey didn’t want him to, so it
was really no surprise when he had caught him out.
It was also the reason why, on nights like this, when he woke up with his
knuckles turning white from his pale, shaking hands gripping the sheets, and
his forehead covered with a thin sheet of cold sweat, Brand was there to turn
the radio up a little to keep his cover, and to sit on the other side of his
bed whilst he slowly came back to reality.
He'd only been able to make out Brand's voice, like a beacon of light pulling
him out of the dream, and away from the cold, cruel hands around his neck. He
thought he'd been delusional, hearing his brother's voice. But then he'd heard
it again, as he had felt the knife press into his cheek, the emotionless voice
of his attacker, raspy from too many cigarettes, let out a low, scratchy laugh.
The pressure around his throat had felt so real, a searing, spreading blister
of pain, the knife digging in just enough to draw blood, to bring about a
stinging sensation as it was dragged down his skin. And then it was gone. And
then… and then he'd opened his eyes. And then he was in a dark room, his eyes
had slowly adjusted to the darkness, the only light appearing through the crack
in the middle of the two curtains. And then he'd seen Brand's worried eyes
examining him closely, his body impossibly still; as if he was scared Mikey
would break at the slightest touch.
It had begun happening at least a few nights a week. Brand would lay next to
him when he woke up, not for any other reason other than because he worried
about him. He'd only asked the first couple of nights, then it had become a
kind of routine. It was funny, really. He could remember them doing the same
thing when they were both just little kids. When there was a storm, and they
didn't want to sleep separately, or when Mikey was just six or seven and still
worried that there were monsters hiding underneath his bed, they'd sleep back
to back and he'd immediately feel safer.
It would be a hell of a lot more embarrassing admitting that now, and he
wouldn't dare because he knew that he'd be teased until they were both old and
grey, but even now when he'd turned fifteen only a few weeks ago he preferred
having Brand there next to him.
 “You okay, dork?” he felt his older brothers body shift, and turn to him just
the slightest, and his right arm snaked around his back and around his
shoulder, and brought their sides together in an awkward but much needed
brotherly half-hug.
"I'm fine." Just your average nightmare about getting murdered by a family of
deranged killers, what's new? He grabbed the inhaler from the bedside table and
took a long breath of much-needed relief. One thing he'd realized, from leaving
his inhaler on the beach; don't leave behind important things behind just
because you're pissed off. He had come to regret that decision during the next
fall.
“We never should’ve gotten into that whole mess, wasn’t worth it.”
"We got to keep the house," he argued. "We didn't have to move, and we don't
have any money problems anymore. If we hadn't gone down there none of that
stuff would have changed, and we'd be in Detroit, with a golf course right here
instead of our house. We don't have to worry about any of that anymore."
“Yeah, right. Now I’ve got you to worry about instead,” the arm on his shoulder
moved fast, and by the time he noticed it coming he was in a headlock, Brand’s
other hand messing up his already untidy hair.
"Hey, k-knock it off Brand," his voice wavered as he tried to force the huge
rock of a brother off of him. "Seriously, you're gonna mess with my asthma, and
mums gonna kill you, get off me,” the sound of deep laughter was followed by
his release, and he pushed at the brick wall that was Brand’s arm, not even
managing to move it an inch.
“Yeah, maybe it would’ve been worth it if it hadn’t screwed with your head so
much.”
“Shut up, and get off me,” he managed to choke out, and the arm around his neck
was gone.
"Sorry kid," he rolled over so his back was facing Mikey again, and Mikey did
the same, their backs inches apart. "You should try and get some sleep unless
you want to get detention for falling asleep in class again." The last sentence
was said in a joking tone, and he rolled his eyes.
“Shut up Brand.” He ignored his older sibling’s laughter, shifted to the most
comfortable position he could find, and reluctantly closed his eyes. He pulled
the sheets up to cover his bare shoulders and buried his head in the pillows,
the sound of slow breathing next to him giving him an embarrassingly comforting
sense of security as he drifted in and out of unconsciousness, before finally
giving in to sleep.
The next time he opened his eyes, it was the obnoxiously loud buzz of his alarm
clock that woke him. He sat up, taking the covers with him and holding them to
his pale, freckled chest. The other side of the bed was empty. His head thumped
as he stood up, and he reached into his closet to grab a white t-shirt, a pair
of baggy blue jeans, and his familiar denim jacket. He pulled on his socks and
his battered black sneakers that badly needed to be replaced any day now and
walked down the stairs, each footstep sending a quiet, low creaking sound
through the silent house.
Brand was already dressed and ready, busy chewing on one of his protein bars
that made Mikey screw up his nose in distaste, sitting at the table with a
weight in his other hand, like usual. His knees only just squeezed under the
low table, a reminder of how much he had grown in the last few years. Even with
all the muscle he’d gained his height left him looking thin, not like Mikey,
but in a good way. He was evenly proportioned. Mikey was almost worryingly
small. He’d always been scrawny, and he hadn’t changed much in his teenage
years. He felt like a small child next to Brand, barely reaching his shoulder.
Sometimes he wondered how they could even be related, they looked nothing
alike; Mikey, besides being wiry and short, was also ridiculously pale and
freckled, and he barely went on in the sun without protection for five minutes,
with the fear of being burned always present. His hair was a wild and untamed
mess of dark brown and auburn waves. His face was soft and rounded, and he knew
he wasn’t attractive, not really. But he was okay with that, at least for right
now.
Brand was his opposite; his complexion was much darker than his, whilst still
being on the paler side, and his dark hair sat perfectly, where Mikey’s seemed
to have a mind of its own, and he his jawline jutted out sharply, prominent
against the softness of his facial features. The only thing they had in common
was their eyes. That was the one thing that really showed they were related.
The same rounded shape, eyes that were so quick to give away emotion, twin
brown iris’s that held shades of amber and caramel and small flecks of green
and ocean blue, outlined by the same long dark lashes.
He shivered as the morning breeze came through the open kitchen window, blew
over him as it passed, and took his train of thought with it. He felt the
goose-bumps rise on his arms even through the thick blue fabric, which still
hung loosely on his slim frame. Ignoring the biting wind, he sat down next to
Brand, the small, rickety chair underneath him let out a low creak when he sat
down. With all the money they had after they cashed in the rest of the jewels
was more than enough for a new table set, but their parents had neglected to
buy a new one, and honestly, if it had already been three years, Mikey didn't
think it would ever happen.
“You look like shit,” Brand observed, his forehead glistening with sweat. He’d
most likely been working out since he woke up. He still hadn’t grown out of
that ridiculous exercise obsession.
"Yeah thanks, it must run in the family," he dodged the light slap across the
back of the head and Brand shook his head and gave him a look that said, "I
won't miss next time," before returning his attention to the weight in his
large hand.
Mikey rested his frayed denim-covered elbows on the table and rested his heavy
head in his hands. His head felt terrible and his whole body ached. The pain in
his head was familiar, the throbbing feeling reaching his temples, it was the
usual headache that accompanied his night terrors. The beat of the pain matched
his pulse, only becoming worse with every beat of his heart.
He reached into his side pocket and pulled out one of the half-empty packets of
the painkillers labelled Vicodin that chunk had snuck him from the abandoned
bottom shelf of his bathroom cabinet. He popped two out into his hand, dry
swallowed them, and tried not to grimace as they scraped against his dry throat
on the way down. Brand looked at him but didn’t speak for a few seconds, but
Mikey knew the silence wouldn’t last.
“You know…” he started, and Mikey prepared himself for the repetitive
conversation they’d had over and over. “Maybe you should start taking that
medication for the nightmares again- “
“Brand…”
“I know they didn’t work the first time Mikey, but maybe if you try them again
they will this time. I mean they did at first, didn’t they?”
“They won’t work, we both know that. Trying them again won’t change that. Maybe
for a few weeks but not for long.”
“So what? If they do stop then at least you got relief for a little while,
right? I mean even if they don’t work at all isn’t it better you know we tried
again?”
“I don’t want to try again.”
“Mikey…” the sadness in his tone reached his eyes despite his usual tough
exterior.
“Just leave it Brand. They don’t work, we’ve dis- dissected- no, discussed-
we’ve discussed this a million times, maybe more and every time I tell you the
same damn thing so big-brotherly, like you need to- to… to re-renovate?” he saw
Brand smirk and paused for a minute, wondering if he’d got the right word, and
then decided it really didn't matter when Brand corrected most of his words
anyway. “Stop acting like you need to resolute me, or re- reflate me.” Both
sounded smart, at least. “Whatever the word is.”
“It's repair, dummy.”
“Repair, that’s what I said.”
“Why are you so worried about it anyway?” his voice raised from the hushed
volume they spoke at and he lowered it again. “It isn’t important, stop
worrying. It’s just nightmares. I’m dealing with it.”
Brand sighed in a disbelieving tone and shook his head. “Really Mikey, you
think that what you’ve been doing with is dealing with it? You force yourself
to stay up until one or two a.m. every fucking morning, and when you do sleep
it’s for a few restless hours. You wake up and look like shit because you’ve
been awake all night and you have purple bags under your eyes that look like
fucking bruises for god sake and you think that’s dealing? Of course I’m
worried about you. You’re my brother, you idiot.”
The air between them was silent for a second, neither one of them looking up
from their laps. He had no idea what to say, and despite their differences in
appearance, it was painfully obvious how similar they were when it came to
moments like this, they were both equally terrible at finding something to say
to break the tension.
Until. Until, “so, I guess that means you do actually care about someone other
than yourself? Besides Andy, I mean.”  He dodged another headlock and got up
out of his chair, knowing he’d probably try again. He started heading up the
stairs.
 “Hey, hurry up and get ready, Andy’s gonna be here in fifteen, at the latest
to pick us up.” 
“Yeah, cause’ you still haven’t passed your driving test. I wonder how it feels
to have to get your girlfriend to drive you to school,” he called from the
railing. The sound of Brand’s chair scraping on the tiles was more than enough
encouragement for him to move his scrawny butt up the stairs.
 Andy had gotten her license just before her seventeenth birthday and her
parents had decided to buy her a brand-new cherry red Chevy as a present. It
shocked him that they had enough to spend just on a car, but then he remembered
that she wasn’t from the Goon docks like the rest of the rest of the Goonies.
It was funny how often he forgot that she was from the rich part of town, where
people like Troy Perkins and his good-for-nothing dad lived. Where they joked
and made belittling jokes about people who lived in the ‘poor’ part of town.
People like him. But Andy wasn’t like that. She was sweet and kind and loving
and she never talked bad about anyone, unless she was in the middle of a bad
argument with Steph. Now that was different.
His head thumped with every step he took up the stairs. When he reached his
room he locked the door, for safety reasons, he told himself, as he pulled on a
white t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans with a few small holes in the
knee, from that time he’d fallen off his bike and scraped his leg last summer.
Despite being years old, the jeans still had some growing space, and every time
he wore them it just put into perspective how tiny he was.
 It seemed like Mouth needed new clothes every couple of months to keep up with
his persistent growth spurts, Data was going through pairs of shoes like Chunk
went through tubs of ice-cream, and, speaking of Chunk, even he had grown
somewhat in the last few years. He still had a bit of his childhood fat, but he
was losing more of it every day, and though it was gradual, slowly but surely,
he was growing into his body. He barely looked like the short, stumpy kid he
had been a few years ago. He loved them all, but it frustrated him a lot of the
time, being the smallest. 
He was pulled out of his thoughts when there was a loud knock on the door, he
knew it was Brand. He considered keeping it locked briefly, but if Brand was
going to do anything to him that would just mean the outcome would be worse,
really. He unlocked it and the door was barged open, Brand closing it behind
him.
“What have you been doing? You’ve been up here so long I thought you might’ve
been dead. Guess you were just daydreaming about all the crazy shit dad feeds
you like usual, hey?”
“Hey, he was right about One-Eyed Willy,” he argued.
“Whatever,” he tussled Mikey’s hair for a second then turned his back to him as
he grabbed a nearly empty roll-on deodorant (the perks of sharing a room with
someone who had asthma, right?) and slipped on a jacket after applying it as
Mikey headed to the bathroom.
One stroke of his fingers through his hair and a half-assed effort at properly
brushing his teeth (braces were a pain in the ass) later and he was walking
back down the oak stairs.
The small pot on the stove made a quiet high-pitched squeak that fuelled the
ache in his skull and made it almost impossible to think about anything else.
His eyelids felt heavy and he looked up at the clock on the kitchen wall,
watching the hand counting the seconds, his gaze following every small movement
as he tried to keep his eyes open. This had been routine for at least a few
months, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had woken up and not felt the
need to close his eyes again. Today was going to be one of those days where
it’d be nearly impossible to stay awake.
He heard the sound of a car pulling up the to the house, followed by two sharp
two beeps of the horn. Well, no time for coffee now. Damn.
“Andy’s here,” he called up the stairs. The sound of Brand’s rushed footsteps
was clearly audible. He grabbed the small brown paper bag out of the fridge
before he shoved the front door open, not waiting for Brand before he made his
way to the back door. His foot slipped, and he stumbled a little as he hoisted
himself up into the backseat and closed the door. His headache pounded as an
annoyingly boppy Cyndi Lauper song blared through the speakers in front and on
either side of him.
He must have released a pained groan because a second later he could hear her
gasp. “Oh shit, sorry, I totally forgot!” the copper-red haired teen exclaimed.
A second later the volume was merely a buzzing whisper. She turned to face him,
and the pain must have shown on his face. “Another headache, Mikey?” she
frowned. “Maybe you should see someone about that.”
He rested his face in the palm of his hand before responding. “Yeah that’s a
great idea Andy, I’ll just go to the doctors for a headache. Then I’ll get
laughed at and kicked out for being an idiot,” her green-brown eyes widened in
worry and she bit her lip and turned back to the front. He could see her eyes
watching him through the rear-view mirror.
“I know it sounds ridiculous but I’m just…”
“Worried?” she pursed her lips and looked away when his eyes met hers. Everyone
knew by now that Mikey hated people feeling bad for him. Especially Andy and
Brand. They were the two he usually went to for advice or when he was having a
‘teen-life crisis.’ He knew they didn’t mean it but he didn’t want them to feel
sorry for him.
“There’s nothing to be worried about Andy,” he muttered.
“I know you don’t like it when Brand and I worry, but it’s only because we care
about you. You know he’s always going to worry about you, he’s your big brother
after all.”
“I know I just… I know,” he said. He didn’t bother finishing the sentence.
“Brand loves you, and so do I. You’re important to both of us and we don’t care
how silly you think your feelings are, we’re still going to care. I know you
think your nightmares are stupid or you feel embarrassed about them, but you
can’t help it and we don’t care how small a problem is, no matter what’s wrong.
It’s not like we’re going to judge you. We’ll be here for you,” her face held a
look of pure determination. “So you better get used to it kiddo,” and then it
was gone, replaced by a teasing smile that spread across her rose-pink lips.
“Thanks, Andy,” he looked down at his lap, but he knew she was still smiling.
“When did you become so good at giving me advice? I feel like you’re my
babysitter or something.”
She laughed, “well if that was true I would’ve been paid by now.” The passenger
door opened a few seconds later and Brand got in.
 “Ah, he finally shows up,” Andy teased.
"I didn't take that long," he rolled his eyes, but the small smile on his lips
gave him away as he leaned forward to plant a second-long kiss on her lips. He
watched as they considered each other’s eyes for a few seconds, Andy smiling
sheepishly as his older brother watched her with fascinated puppy-dog-eyes.
A weird sinking feeling grew in the pit of his stomach, but it was also a warm
sensation at the same time and he didn’t know what it was. It was probably just
the fact that it still weirded him out a little seeing them together. He’d
grown used to it by now, but it was still strange to him, even after three
years. Maybe it was just Brand being so affectionate and loving with someone.
He’d never seen Brand let his guard down the way he did around Andy. He was
happy for them, but it was something he didn’t see much. Brand didn’t like many
people outside of the Goonies, Andy had been the exception.
“Are we gonna leave anytime soon, or are you gonna kiss him again? I don’t
think you should, his breath is pretty bad,” a large hand pushed his shoulder
and he flew into the seat.
“Hey!”
“Shut-up Mikes,” Andy laughed and shook her head. “Brothers,” she started the
car up again and reversed down the gravel driveway and onto the road after
waiting for a lone car.
 That same unusual-though-not-bad-feeling swirled in his stomach and he didn’t
know what it was, but he honestly didn’t care. It really didn’t matter. The
pain in his head didn’t matter. Or the fact that his day was probably going to
be shitty and he would have trouble staying awake. Right now, he just tried to
focus on the good. That for right now, and for the next ten minutes at least,
he was with two of his favourite people.
Chapter End Notes
     I’m so excited to start this new fic! For anyone who read Important
     this is basically a chaptered and more drawn out version of that, but
     it did inspire me to write this. Any feedback, good or bad is
     appreciated!
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
T w o
High-school sucked. Of course, the sleepless nights didn't make it any more
bearable. The day passed slowly and by fifth period he swore he was being
punished for some stupid thing forgotten his barely-functioning-teenage-brain
had forgotten, or maybe karma had finally caught up to him for that time he and
the rest of the Goonies had tied Brand up with his own exercise equipment. He
couldn't be sure.
He was almost sure his parents would get another phone call today. He'd fallen
asleep in Math, English and Social Studies and he was pretty sure his Physics
teacher noticed that he could hardly pay attention during the lecture.
He spent the first half of lunch with the other Goonies, and he tried, he swore
he tried to pay attention to Mouth’s usual ramblings about Stef, who he swore
he didn't like even though all he seemed to do these days was exchange banter
with the blonde-haired girl. He really didn’t understand why hadn’t gotten
together already. It was obvious to everyone around them, besides each other,
of course, that there was something there, ever since that whole One-eyed Willy
business (and before that too, though it was nowhere near as obvious as now)
they’d been eyeing each other like Chunk eyed food, which was saying something.
The rest of it he spent holed up in the library sleeping with his head on the
table, behind a pile of thick books about Chemistry and History and other
uninteresting subjects he really wouldn't care about if they ended up knocked
over or on the floor. Having to be woken up by an insanely pretty tenth grader
would have to be ranked in the top ten most embarrassing moments of his life.
This pattern repeated for the rest of the day, with his eyes barely staying
open during the rest of his classes. He spent next recess sat beside Andy on
the steps outside the library. He was still tired, but talking with Andy always
seemed to motivate him. He’d never admit it, of course, he probably sounded
stupid after all but there was just something about her blinding optimism and
cheerfulness that always felt like it transferred to him. She was like a never-
ending fountain of positivity and he liked to be around her, especially when he
was in moods like today’s. Though it wasn’t as effective when she was in a sour
mood too, he discovered.
 She’d been in a huff since sometime after the last time he’d seen her, after
she’d wrapped her long arms around his neck and scurried off to class with
Brand in tow. He’d just been able to make out a few choice words from Andy. Now
he was stuck listening to her blabber on about the whole situation, which was
less than a mediocre (hey, he hadn’t screwed up a semi-long word for once) way
to spend lunch, no matter how much he loved the twitchy redhead.
“I mean what does he think? That I can’t look after myself? All I wanted to do
was go out and have a good time instead of worrying about school twenty-four-
seven but no, he gets to decide that I’m not going. He’s so over-protective.” 
“Andy…”
“And it’s not like I’d be able to get in any trouble, even if I wanted to-
because being the ‘good girl’ all the time is just so tiring- but I’d be with
him the whole night, so I don’t know why he’s so worried. I love him but it’s
just so frustrating he-”
“Andy!” her head flung to the side and her wild eyes met his. “Why do you even
want to go to Troy Perkin’s party anyway? He’s a jerk.” Troy Perkins had been a
thorn in his side since the moment they met. It was worse for Brand. Mikey
didn’t give a damn about Troy, but Brand and him, they’d been friends once.
Since they were little kids to around halfway through their junior year of high
school.
That was before Troy started following in his father’s footsteps and became an
arrogant ass. Frankly, Mikey didn’t give a damn about him, but he could tell
Brand still cared. Underneath that hard exterior, he was the kind of person
that cared about everyone. Maybe a little too much. That was the main reason he
hated Troy. He could hide it as much as he wanted but Mikey could always see
beneath it and the truth was that he still cared for him, despite how big of a
jerk he’d become. And Mikey didn’t like that. Something had obviously happened
between them, and he knew it mustn’t have been a clean break-off, but it must
have been something else. Troy most likely did something, because usually when
friendships end people just drift apart or become distant overtime, they don’t
treat the other like shit. Or look at the other like there’s something they
wished they’d gotten to say.
“Oh, trust me, I don’t like him.”
“Then why-”
“Just because I want to go to the part doesn’t mean I like him,” she
interrupted. “It’s Halloween and I guess I just wanted to have one last good
party before high-school is over. Almost everyone else from our grade is going
and I thought it would be fun,” she shrugged. 
“Have you thought that maybe he doesn’t want you to go because he’s jealous?”
Her face screwed up in a look that he understood as half-disgusted, half-
confused. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she bit her lip, lost in thought for a few
seconds.
“What but- no that’s ridiculous. Why would he be jealous?” 
“Well you did date him once,” he said. She sighed and hung her head in her
hands. 
“It was for two months and I’ve been with Brand for three years, and it was
never anything like what it is with Brand. If that’s the reason I swear- and
he- if anyone should be jealous it should be-,” she closed her mouth to cut
herself off and he wondered what she was about to say but he didn’t linger on
it too long. “You… you really think that may be why?” she muttered so quietly
her almost didn’t hear it.  
“I don’t know Andy. But he’s your boyfriend, not me. He should be the one
you’re talking about this with.”
She pursed her lips and finally nodded. “Okay, okay, you’re right. Like
always.” She moved closer so that their sides were touching and rested her head
on his shoulder. “I swear it seems like you’re older than me, sometimes,” she
laughed. “You’re the one who’s rational and then there’s me, going crazy over
stupid things.”
“What did he say, anyway?” he asked.
“Just that he didn’t want me to be around Troy. I understand why but there’s
going to be so many people there we probably won’t even see him. I guess he has
got a point, but I was looking forward to going. It’s a better way to spend
Friday night than studying.”
They were both quiet for a few minutes as she played with a loose thread on his
jacket arm. Then she lifted her head to look at him again. She studied him for
a bit, her eyes moving rapidly over him. And then the mischievous smile broke
out on her face. He felt his insides flip in anticipation to what her next
words would be.
“No.” It was supposed to be his final answer, short and simple. Then she
pouted, and her eyes looked like they’d grown to be twice their size.
“Aw come on, you haven’t even heard what I was going to say,” she argued. He
sighed. He knew whatever it was she wanted, she’d probably win. He’d always
been bad at saying no to her.
“If you’re going to try and drag me into this mess-”
“It’ll be fun.”
“I am not going to that party. I mean, it isn’t really for freshmen, is it?” he
muttered, looking down at his shoes. “Besides, if Brand doesn’t want you to be
there what makes you think he’d want me there?” he looked up at her when it was
silent for too long to feel natural. “What if he sees me there? Even if you do
work it out with him there’s no way he’ll let me go too.” She looked as
confused as if he’d just spoken another language.
“Mikey, it’s Halloween. Costumes, make-up,masks. Ring a bell?” she tapped on
his forehead softly with her knuckles. She was always gentle when he had a
headache. The rest of the time she had at least a little ‘oomph’ behind any
contact they shared.
“I don’t know Andy, what if he recognises me? Do you know how much trouble I
would be in?” She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him, but he could see
the smile tugging at her lips.
“Come on, we’ll be fine. He won’t be looking for you, if you’re dressed up
enough he won’t even notice. You worry too much. Plus, don’t you wanna
experience at least one high-school party with someone you know? I mean in the
next few years you’ll be invited to a lot of parties, but most of the time the
person you go with won’t stay with you. I could be your guide.”
“My…guide?”
She grinned. “Yep. I’ll be your… first-party-guide?”
He couldn’t help smiling. “Wow, that’s a great idea.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have someone to guide me through
the hell that is a teenage party.”
She laughed. “You’re lucky, I wish I’d had one.”
“You should make a career out of it.”
“Yeah, I’ll call myself ‘Andy, the-first-ever-party-guide,” he chuckled. “For
when your first party is too daunting to go to alone.” She’d lowered her voice
and it sounded like a bad imitation of an early eighties television commercial.
“For the low price of $4.99, you can have the time of your life. Call now.”
They both tried to keep a straight face, but she started laughing, a second and
Mikey followed. She leaned into him a little more and sighed when she could
finally keep a straight face.
“You’re an idiot,” she teased, one pale arm now rested around his neck. “So?
You wanna come with?” she gave him those big pleading eyes and he knew what he
was going to say before he’d even had the chance to say a word. “Please?”
He sighed before finally answering, and unbelievably (it shocked him most) he’d
relented to her. “Fine.”
The grin that broke out on her face was as flawless as the rest of her.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, somewhat grudgingly. “If,” he began. “If, I can find a
costume in time,” she nodded her head excitedly. “How do you always convince me
into making terrible decisions?”
She smiled. “Because you love me.”
He just shook his head, because really? He couldn’t argue with that.
 The week was passing slowly and torturously, and today was only Wednesday.
Classes felt like forever, which was usual. So was the fact that lunch felt so
short, like he’d blinked and it was over. Also, normal, unfortunately, the ache
in his skull. The one thing that wasn’t normal? Going costume shopping so close
to the actual day of Halloween. He’d always had his costume before the first
day of October, at the latest. He’d wanted to do it on Tuesday, but Mouth had
sucked him into hanging out at the dock with the rest of the Goonies. So
walking into the costume shop with Halloween only a few days away felt far off
normal.
The noise of the bell as he walked in felt like a sharp pain in his head and he
rubbed his temple as Andy walked to his side.
“You think there are any good costumes left?” he mumbled.
“Only one way to find out,” she smiled as she dragged him down the first aisle.
There really wasn’t much left. He should have known. Having a costume shop in a
town as small as Astoria was already lucky; finding a good one? That was the
hard part. All the decent ones were already taken, and the shelves and hangers
were near empty. A few crappy costume changes later, a search through the left-
over masks and the ‘half-price’ bin and Mikey was ready to give up. Andy wasn’t
on the same page.
“Andy, there’s nothing here. We’ve searched through everything. Can we leave
yet?”
Her brilliant eyes light up before she mutters, “not yet,” and walked up to the
counter.
It was a small shop, run by only a few staff. That afternoon it was a small
blonde teen that looked no older than him that was working. She didn’t notice
Andy when she first walked up, too busy chatting to someone on the wall phone
behind the desk. She looked up for a second as Andy’s palm hit the small bell
on the front counter.
The blonde stopped her conversation and sighed into the phone, “yeah, hold on
I’ll be back, there’s a customer.” She laid it on the bench and looked up at
the other girl. “Lenny’s costumes, how can I help you?” her voice was clipped
and impatient and it was obvious her lines were rehearsed.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any other costumes in the back by any chance,
would you?” Andy smiled that sweet smile she always reserved for trying to
‘sweet-talk’ someone.
The girl looked unimpressed. “No, I’m sorry. What you see is what you get. We
don’t have anything else.” She reached for the phone again and Andy’s hand was
there before he saw it move, resting on the cream coloured device.
“Look, I know you don’t care about your job. It’s not exactly hard to see, but
wereally need a costume. So if there’s anything else anywhere in here, we’re
just asking to take a look.”
They held eye contact for a few moments. Then the phone was back up to her ear.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
Andy huffed in exasperation and pulled out her wallet. “We’ll pay you,” that
got her attention. Of course.
She eyed Andy like she couldn’t be sure if it was a joke or not, then clicked
her tongue when she grabbed out two crumpled green notes that he couldn’t
properly see and almost thrust them in the girl’s face. She still wore that
unimpressed look, but she nodded her head and motioned to the back door behind
her.
“You’ve got five minutes,” then she was on the phone again. “and don’t make a
mess,” she added as they slipped past the large metal door. Mikey could hear
the loud chatter as the door slammed shut behind them.
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“What?”
“You bribed her,” he heard her laugh.
“Oh come on, it’s not thatbad. Now let’s look for a costume. We’ve only got a
few minutes.”
They searched through the clothing racks to find anything that could work as
both a costume and a disguise (or at least something that wouldn’t give him
away) but there wasn’t much else back here.
“Damn,” Andy hissed as she searched through a large pile of unopened costumes.
“These are all so bad,” she moaned.
“We live in Astoria, it’s a miracle that we evenhave a costume shop in the
first place.” They looked a little more, Mikey was shocked that they hadn’t
been kicked out yet, she was probably still distracted on the phone. There was
nothing that caught either of their attention for a while, and he was nearly
ready to give up when Andy made a triumphant noise.
“I found something,” she exclaimed, grabbing what looked like a great brown
pile of shit through the clear packaging, but then he could see colour peeking
out. He couldn’t see the picture of the costume on the other side of the
package and he hoped it something he’d be able to tolerate being in all night.
He saw her frown and dig back in to look where she’d just pulled it from and
watched as she pulled packages out, one bigger, one smaller. She grinned and
patted her now scruffy hair down.
“Are you going to let me see what it is, or are you going to torture me?”
She chucked the first at him, label facing him. And he frowned while she smiled
wickedly. “Too bad I hadn’t planned to go as a Sevateem,” she teased. Yeah,
well he hadn't been planning on going as an alien who was hundreds of years
old, and look how that turned out.
Chapter End Notes
     For anyone who hasn't figured it out, he's going as the fourth
     doctor! I don't know why that came to mind but I thought it would fit
     really well. Also, not sure if I'm happy with how this chapter turned
     out, but I tried to make it as realistic and as interesting as I
     possibly could. This one is shorter than usual, but the next chapter
     should definitely be longer.
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