THREESOME

twentynine - lets be sick together

Mickey

"I didn't get you sick man," I coughed out.

"Whatever."

He's so fucking complicated. Like jesus fuck Scott, what the hell. You don't just make out with someone and then ignore them. Or in this case, act like a total dick. It's not fair. It's not right.

"So umm-"

"Don't say anything," he said, trying to push himself up. I stood up myself and reached my hand out offering my help.

"Here let me help," I reached my hand out to him. He just looked at it and rolled his eyes. Still, he struggled to get up himself.

After watching him struggle for a bit, I decided to finally help him. Rather he liked it or not. I grabbed his hand unwillingly and pulled him up to me.

Once he was up we were literally inches apart. After looking at each other in the eyes for a bit, he finally gave out and gestured to his bed.

I walked him over to the bed. He plopped down, making me stifle laughter. Something about the action made me want to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

Oop. Nevermind, guess he saw it.

"Nothing. It's just the way you fell down on the bed. You alright?" I lightly chuckled.

"What does it look like you fucking idiot?" He seemed agitated. As always.

"I guess not."

***

Some time passed. Scott fell asleep, Daisy never returned, and I, well I've just been throwing up so bad it made it hard for me to fall asleep. So, I've just been watching Scott and watching the clock.

Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik.

Ughhhh. I'm so bored. And I could leave. No, I should leave. He's all moody and blamey and I should seriously just get up and leave.

But...something inside me is stopping me. I felt bad. Plus, I didn't want him even more mad at me.

So.

I'm waiting...

And waiting...

And waiting...

I think after another hour of waiting, he started fidgeting in his sleep.

He groans. "Your still hear?" He tiredly asked.

"Yup. In the flesh," I sighed.

"Wow," he said. He turned his head so he could face the window on the side of him. Simply, where I was sitting. "Thanks I guess. You seem less horrible now," he sniffed.

"Wow. All it took was me not leaving you?" I playfully scoffed.

He just rolled his eyes at me.

Something overtook me. Some strange urge of courageness.

"Move over," I pushed his leg.

"What?" He questioned with knitted eyebrows.

"I said scoot over Scott I want to lay."

"You want to what?" He shouted, a little confused.

"Lay. Down. Next. To. You." I said slowly, as if talking to a child.

"Whatever," he shook his head while moving over to make space.

We were facing each other. Just staring into each other's eyes.

"Scott?"

"Hm?" He hummed.

"Do you have family issues?"

"What?"

"Family issues?"

"How would you know?" He rolled his eyes.

"Well I just put two and two together. You got tutored my Frankie 5 days a week. Not to mention how you'd spend most of your weekends with her. Makes me think you being home wasn't fundamental," I shrugged.

"Maybe your right," he mumbled. It look like he was thinking for a bit. "Yeah. I do have family issues. My family hates me. Not sure why but they do. Especially my mom. I never told anyone this but Daisy and Frankie," he paused. "My mom blamed me for my dad cheating on her. Wasn't fair but when your super rich, nothing is," he shrugged.

I felt kind of bad for him. I didn't think it was that deep.

"Well, my father didn't want to be in my life period. He said he didn't want to have a black bitches baby sooo..."

"Oh..." he drifted off. It went silent for a little. "You had cancer right?"

I shook my head. "Yes. Very much so."

"How did that feel? How long to recover?"

"Um well, I got it when I was young. Didn't feel nice. I couldn't do normal activities like sports and stuff. Plus it was an easy target for bullying. And I mean, I still can't really do a lot of that stuff. At the party, yeah, I got a little faded but it wasn't anything too strong. But recovery wise, it took me some time. I was in the hospital for 100 days. I missed like half my senior year. It had it's benefits though."

"Wow. I actually kind of feel bad now."

"Nah, don't. I'm all good now. Plus having a family that don't appreciate your existence is worser than a cureable disease."

He thumbed my forehead.

"Are you joking!?" He yelled, coughing after.

"What?"

"Mickey! You could have died!"

I just grinned. "Yeah but, it was better than watching my mom struggle."

His serious expression turned into a very concerned one.

"Oh um, I'm sorry. I feel like shit now...For complaining and all." His voice was low.

"Nah. I told you it was nothing. Don't stress it." I smiled.

He actually smiled back.

From then, we just looked in each others eyes.

Im such a fucking idiot. Writing the party scene, i totally forgot Mickey had cancer. 😹😹😹 thats not funny but...