The Difference Between You And Me {Petekey}

Chapter eighteen

The next few days went over pretty easily. Mikey still hadn't played a single game of chess since he confronted Gerard, but that was because he was catching up on his sleep. As it turned out, all of that pent up worrying about Gerard and Frank and himself really tired him out. He was using every second of free time trying to sleep. 

Gerard talked to him like normal now, which was a big improvement. Mealtimes were a bit awkward, though, since neither of them were big talkers. Usually Frank kept conversations afloat. Mikey secretly hoped that they would find another friend to hang out with eventually, since the two of them were getting a little lonely with only having each other. No one could ever replace Frank, though, that was for sure. 

About a week and a half after he confronted Gerard, Mikey went back to the rec hall to place himself in the next tournament. His challenger, he read on the board, was named Robert Bryar. Mikey didn't recognize the name from any of the previous tournaments, though he had been out of it for a little while, so maybe Bryar had just started playing while Mikey was gone. The game was set to start in half an hour, so Mikey sat himself down near the bookshelves and picked up a book that was on the table next to him.

Mikey was only a few pages into Pride and Prejudice when a man came up to him, standing right in front of him. Mikey looked up from his book when the man coughed.

He was a bit bigger than most of the men in the camp, but whether it was from muscle mass or not, Mikey couldn't tell. He was wearing a sweater that covered most of his body. Mikey knew some people got colder than others, but how was this dude that cold? Sure, it was cold outside, but the building was nice and warm. 

"You're Mikey Way, correct?" The guy asked, his voice deep and clear. Mikey looked him in the eye and nodded slowly. He knew what this guy was trying to do, assert his dominance over Mikey, possibly for the game, possibly just for the power trip. But two could play at that game. Mikey was tired of people trying that with him. He had seniority over most of the people at the camp by now, and although he still looked frail and thin, he was getting quite a bit stronger. "I'm Bob Bryar. We're playing each other in a few minutes. I just thought i would introduce myself."Bryar stuck out his hand. Mikey shook it, making sure his grip was more firm than Bob's. 

"How polite," Mikey smiled, fully aware how unnatural it looked on his usually solemn face. "Are you new to the tournament?"

"I used to be in the tournament when I was here for the Great War," Bryar said. "I thought I would join again to pass the time while I do my training again."

"They make you go through training again?" Mikey asked, quirking an eyebrow. This guy fought in World War One and wanted to fight again? He didn't look old enough to have been in that war, but maybe he was older than he looked and had lied about his age to enlist.

"Yeah, the equipment is different. And plus, it's been a few years. You forget things," Bob explained. "Doesn't mean I like it, though."

"I see," Mikey said, putting his book down on the table, leaving it open face down. He had no intention of ever picking it back up, and he knew it damaged the spine, but he really did not want this guy to think he was some kind of puny little boy like tons of other people at the camp had made him out to be.

"I guess I'll see you soon, then," Bob said after a little bit of silence. Mikey nodded silently and Bob left to go talk to someone else Mikey didn't recognize. Mikey closed his eyes for a second, thinking about how the game would go down. Bob seemed nice enough despite the patronizing aura he had to him. Hopefully he would be an easy win, though he really didn't seem like it. But half of the guys who seemed all macho and cunning outside of the game were really just terrible players once they had a board in front of them anyways, so Mikey wasn't really all that scared.