I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

More Like Golf

Frank

"So explain this croquet thing to me," Gerard prompts later as we all gather in his basement bedroom. Despite threatening to keep us all for after school detention, mister Bryar never actually followed through. Emily's convinced he got called away to be with his other family. I'm pretty sure he just forgot. The principal's only job can't just be to make us all miserable.

I spin around so that I can face Gerard and Mikey, "It's pretty simple really. There are gates set up on the field. You just try to get the ball through all the gates." Gerard and Mikey nod as if they understand. "To do that you take the croquet mallet and you hit the ball. Kinda like upside-down baseball."

The Way brothers stare back at me, their expressions mirroring each other; eyes squinted, lips slightly parted. Either I'm doing a shit job of explaining or they're dense. The games not complicated. Hell, if I can learn it anyone can. It's a sport for people who hate sports. Emily told me that high-class people over in England play it all the time in dresses and suits. I mainly joined the team so she'd shut up about it and my dad would get off my butt about being more involved.

"Someone is throwing a ball at you? I'm not playing if there's running involved." Mikey and Gerard protest, arms now crossed firmly over their chests. I swear, there's no denying they're related.

Emily laughs, snapping a few pictures of the brothers before lying out across the floor, her feet in my lap. She stares up at Gerard and Mikey, chewing at her nails. Gently, I pinch the exposed skin of her ankle, pushing her hand away from her mouth. Emily's been trying to quit biting her nails for years. We've tried every trick in the book. Nothing's worked. I've decided I'm resorting to violence, either that or a squirt bottle. In response Emily jabs her foot into my gut, quickly pulling her legs away from me.

"No one is throwing balls and there's no running. The game is a race around the circuit of hoops. The blue and black balls play against the red and yellow balls. The first side to get through all twelve hoops and hit the peg is the winner. Once a ball hits the peg it's removed from the game. The balls sit on the ground the whole game and you hit them with your mallet. You can try and get them through the hoop or hit your opponent's ball away from the hoop. It's more like golf than upside-down baseball."

Mikey stares down at Emily the two having a silent conversation. Finally, Gerard's younger brother nods, flopping back across the bed, "As long as there's no running, I'm in."

"What are the mallets made out of?" Leave it to Gerard to ask the hard-hitting questions.

Emily seems unfazed by the question. I guess she's always been a little sideways too. It explains why she adopted Gerard into our friend group. Gotta love a girl who collects the oddballs. "Wood."

"Would it hurt if I hit you with one?"

"Well yes, but I was hoping we'd come far enough in our friendship to be past the hitting stage."

Gerard seems satisfied with this answer, giving Emily a quick nod, "I'm in."

"You failed to let Emily know you weren't planning on hitting her," Ray pipes up, eyes still trained on the television, hyper-focused on the video game he's playing. Ray's been trying to beat this level for the past month. I'm not sure why he hasn't just asked to take the game home. It's not like Gerard plays it.

Mikey's brother sticks his tongue out, taking on a high-pitched voice as he mocks Emily's previous comment, "I'm not sure we've come far enough in our friendship for me to promise that."

"You're a brat Gerard Way."

Gerard grins, leaning forward on the bed to press his finger to Emily's nose, "Yes, but at least I'm a cute brat."

"You wish," Emily sends a pillow flying towards Gerard's face.

The room falls into a comfortable silence, all of us watching as Ray works his way through Arkham Asylum avoiding Joker's minions. I slide strands of Emily's cherry red hair through my fingers, working on French braiding it together. She walked me through how to do this a couple of years ago, right around the time she started spending more nights at my house than hers. With no mom around to fix her hair in the mornings, the task landed squarely on my shoulders. The first couple of times it looked more like I'd tied her hair in knots than actually braiding it, but I think I've gotten pretty good. It helps that Emily is patient, never complaining when I pull too tight or mess up the pattern and have to start over. I like that she lets me be this close to her.

"You're really going to trust Gerard with a croquet mallet?" I whisper in Emily's ear as I tug the hair tie off her wrist.

Emily shrugs, leaning back against my chest as I wrap my arms around her, "He'll hurt himself before he hurts anyone else. Think we'll make it through the night without him blacking out?"

"It's looking pretty good so far. Maybe keeping him busy will be a good thing. More time on the croquet course, less time to drink himself into oblivion."

To my left, Ray let's out a triumphant yell, throwing his controller into the air, "I did it! I finally beat it! Take that you clown ass bitch!"

"Good job, now you've only got to beat the next ten levels," Emily claps Ray on the back, handing the controller back to him.

"How would you know that?"

Emily shrugs, settling back against me, "Because I've already won the game."