risky ; the goonies

half of ten

nicole hursh

3:03 pm

i kick a pebble making it roll away from us.

"mikey, sorry, for all of this happening," i say quietly.

"it's not your fault, it just sucks is all," i nod my head even though he can't see me.

it's always been us, "the goonies", our parents were all friends making us all friends, and i can't imagine it not being how it's always been.

"who are you going to hang out with? after all of this?" mikey asks with a voice laced with wonder.

"well, mouth's staying, i'll be friends with him," i reply. mouth irritates me more than my own mother does, which says quite a lot.

"yeah, have fun with that," he grins now, there's that award-winning grin.

"shut up," i nudge him just as we walk up his driveway. he unlatches his gate and allows me to go in first. i run towards the stairs dodging everything that littered the lawn, topping everything off by jumping the stairs two at a time.

i open the door to find brand lying on a recliner watching tv in work out gear.

"shouldn't the clothes come with an actual workout?" i ask him walking towards the kitchen.

"very funny nicky,"

i open the cupboards while looking for the chips that mikey's dad hides.

i spot the sour cream and onions ones, fist pumping upon my win.

"hey brand, look, while you miserably get buff, i'll happily get fat!" i yell popping chips into my mouth.

"looks hurt, metal mouth," he groans as he lifts weights.

"harsh," i reply sitting on the couch and lifting my legs up. mikey lies on his bed looking around his room, as if it were to get up and walk away any moment, which, technically speaking, it was.

"mikey! stop grouching around and lighten up will ya," i call out.

"oh bummer, nothing exciting ever happens around here anyway. who needs the goondocks? who needs this house? i can't wait to get outta here," he mumbles before picking up a copy of a mad magazine. i shake my head as i watch him thumb through it in a mood.

"really,?" brand asks him not looking up from his mini workout.

"nah, i was just trying to delate myself- no, no, uh, dicta-? dictate myself?"

"delude, that's delude yourself dummy," brand tells him shaking his head. i pop another chip into my mouth watching the ceiling fan go by. mikey's quite right, nothing exciting ever happens around here.

"that's what i said!" mikey says sitting up and throwing his magazine to the side. mikey runs over to brand and tries to push his weight onto him.

"ha! get em' mikey!" i call out, choking on a chip.

"agh!" i yell sitting up and coughing up the chip, finally relieving myself just a bit.

"adopted wuss," brand tells mikey pushing him away, going to answer the door as soon and a knock was heard.

"adopted wuss? i'm no adopted wuss, i'll kill you brand!" mikey calls while chasing after him.

i sit up on occasion of a visitor, i wouldn't want one of brand's friends to see me choking while crumbs sat on my shirt.

"oh, it's mouth," i hear brand say before walking back into the living room.

"hey, mikey! yo, mikey! hey, mikey, seen adrian? hey guys, what's going down?!" he yells walking in and bobbing his head before spotting me.