liar ー petekey [2017 bandfiction award winner]

FOUR

"So," Mikey begins once the turbulence abates, "that was hectic."

"I spilled a drink on a pedestrian, you tripped over a small dog, and we arrived to the gate late and barely made it onto the plane. Yeah," Pete agrees, "yeah, it was. Do you have the book?"

"Yeah, it's in my carry on. Hold on."

Mikey leans forward and unzips his backpack, then starts to sift through the various junk items that he's brought. He finds what he's looking for after a few tries and pulls it out, studying the cover. It's orange and green, with the Statue of Liberty plastered on the front. Immigrant Marriage For Dummies decorates the center in bold black lettering.

Mikey flips through the book. "See, the thing is," he begins, "I know all this about you, but you've got 3 days to learn all this about me."

"You know all this about me?" Pete asks. He takes the book. "Fine, here; do I have any allergies?"

"Pine nuts," Mikey answers, "and the full spectrum of human emotion."

"Very funny. Do I have any scars?"

"One on your left ring finger. And I'm pretty sure you have a tattoo."

"Pretty sure?"

Mikey mocks a cough. "You fucked one of my friends once and he said you had a tattoo. So what is it? Tribal ink? Japanese calligraphy? Barbed wire?"

Pete rolls his eyes.

"You know I'm gonna have to know for the test, right?"

"Nope. My turn. Okay, when's your birthday? Easy. The ninth of September."

"Close. Tenth. And in 1980."

"Come on! I was close. Any scars?"

"Yeah."

"Where?"

Mikey shifts, "I'll tell you later."

"I'll start guessing if you don't tell me."

"Pete-"

"Car crash? Accidental cut? Puncture wound? Infection?"

"Pete, I'm serious, I'll tell you later, okay? I'm gonna sleep."

Mikey glances at Pete quickly right before he shuts his eyes. He doesn't seem to be tired, however, and becomes restless after about 15 minutes. He sits up and looks at the window. Finally, he feels himself getting a bit drowsy, and decides to try falling asleep one more time.

When he wakes up, he looks over to Pete, who's reading a book. The intercom dings. "Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seatbelts. We are now beginning our descent into Sitka."

Mikey looks at Pete, confusion plastered on his face. "I was asleep for six hours?"

Pete shrugs. "I'm assuming you didn't get much sleep last night."

"None, actually."

"That would be it," Pete says, buckling his seatbelt and pulling the strap. Mikey copies him and looks out the window. He can't see much, but he can vaguely see mountains below the clouds.

When the plane finally goes below the clouds, he sees snow capped mountains jutting up from the ground; the plane barely scrapes through them without damaging the wings.

Mikey smiles to himself when the plane touches the ground at the landing station, and when he sees his family waiting there for him. His mom is holding up a sign, as is his grandmother, but his father is nowhere in sight. And Gerard, of course, isn't there. He's probably taken all of his vacation leaves up from work and isn't able to come up to Alaska. And besides, it takes around eleven hours to fly from Florida to Sitka. With Gerard's impulsive nature, he'd probably explode halfway in the air.

"You ready?" Mikey asks, trying not to smile any wider.

"Yeah," Pete responds, "are they judgy?"

"No. I mean, not really, unless you have crazy dyed hair. They nearly kicked my brother out when he dyed his hair bright red. It suited him, though."

"You have a brother?"

"Yeah."

"What's his name?"

"Gerard. He's my older brother."

"Is he here?"

"No, I don't think so. I wish he was. Haven't seen him in... three or four years, I think."

"Oh," Pete says, looking down at his shoes. "I suppose that was my fault."

"No, I just didn't have enough money to fly to Florida. And he was too busy, anyways. He got a new phone. I don't have his number anymore, so I can't call or text him," Mikey lies, trying to make Pete feel better. It actually was Pete's fault that he hasn't seen Gerard. He's never given Mikey a day off for vacation. Though, Mikey should blame himself, because he's never really asked to take a vacation leave.

When they get off the plane and start walking towards the large metal gate, Pete says, "I've never been to an airport like this."

"Cheapskate airline, but good food. That's pretty much all that matters."

"So the editing company in a nutshell? I mean, cheapskate company, but good snackbars?"

Mikey laughs. "Yeah, I'd say so."

Pete lets Mikey hold the gate open for him and thanks him.

"Bub!" Mikey's mom, Donna, exclaims when he closes the gate, running to him and engulfing him in a hug. He smiles and hugs her back.

"Mom! Jeez, it's good to see you; I missed you so much, Jesus Christ!"

Elena, Mikey's grandmother, tugs on Donna's coat. "Oh, you're suffocating him, Donna! Let me have a go!"

Mikey laughs and hugs his grandma. "Hi, Grandma," he smiles, kissing her cheek.

Elena turns to Pete. "This is your man?"

Mikey smiles and takes Pete's hand. "Yeah, yeah. This is Pete."

"Now," Elena says, "do you prefer Pete or Satan's Paramour? We've heard it both ways. Actually, we've heard it lots of ways-"

"Mom!" Donna scolds, turning to Pete. "She's kidding, of course."

Pete laughs. "Thanks for letting me stay with you, by the way. It's a pleasure."

"We're thrilled to have you, Pete. C'mon, let's get you two lovebirds back to the fort," Elena says, turning and taking Donna's arm. Pete looks at Mikey blankly, and Mikey shrugs and smiles.

"Satan's Paramour?"

"I had to substitute the word 'mistress' with 'paramour'. Blame that shitty thesaurus website with all the synonyms and antonyms!"

Pete just rolls his eyes and smiles, running a hand through his hair and chuckling.