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"Saved by the Bell - Part 7"
Title: Saved by the Bell P7
Author: Woolhat's Traveling Mood
Micky deftly buttoned his pants as he continued eye contact with himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess, but he couldn't bring himself to comb it. Glancing behind him, he watched Mike stretch luxuriously on his worn mattress, hands placidly folded behind his head.
"You're worried.” The Texan murmured; it was a statement, not a question.
"I have to get back to school before classes end, I have to meet Coco, or she'll know I skipped school, then dad'll kill me for sure."
"I wish you didn't have to go.” Mike looked wistfully at him with eyes that shone chocolate in the early afternoon sun.
"Same here.” Micky murmured, finally tucking in his shirt. Mike was about to say something else when there was a sharp knock at the front door.
"Who the hell?” Mike leapt up and quickly dressed before ushering Micky towards the other end of the room. "Can you just hide in there?” Mike seemed to know what he was talking about as if he had this all planned and pushed Micky gently towards a small closet. He gave Micky a quick peck on the cheek before closing the door.
Micky could see through the little slats in the door but couldn't see far. He could hear though. He listened to Mike's ambling footsteps as they trudged across the living room and halted. Then there was the click of the lock and the door creaked open.
"Yes?” Mike drawled.
"Is this the residence of Robert Nesmith?" a very stern voice sounded clearly.
"Yes, that's me.” Mike's voice had suddenly lost all its confidence and Micky could only imagine who this visitor was. His breathing began to grow quick as he heard shuffling and his heart pounded in his ears. How would he explain this?
"Well, My name's Detective Atkins and this is Sergeant Brianson and we have a warrant to search your house Mr. Nesmith,"
"Because we have reason to believe that you were involved in the burglary of 94 Crescent Avenue, two nights ago."
"What? You're crazy!"
"We have two witnesses who identified you from your existing police records, now if you'll just move out of the way, we need to search this place."
"You can't just barge in here!"
"Just watch us!"
The door slammed shut and there was the sound of movement of furniture, violently, and rummaging of other objects. Micky bit his lip and held his breath as he heard footsteps thunder around the small house. Any minute now.
The bedroom door creaked and Micky could see the detective. He was a large, plump man with a thick moustache and small squinty eyes. He easily tossed furniture aside before his eyes settled on the closet. Mike had appeared behind him and was babbling on but the detective's eyes never swayed from the slated door and he edged closer. "And what's in here I wonder.” He whispered coyly as his hand reached out for the knob.
Micky closed his eyes and could feel tears about to roll down his face. This was it.
"Hey sir?” A voice called from another room.The detective stalled and glared behind him.
"I think I found what we're looking for!” The voice called and Micky could see Mike visibly cringe.
The detective's hand dropped from the knob and he hurriedly left the room.
Mike stayed where he was and Micky gasped as they made eye contact, despite the door, and Mike mouthed 'I'm sorry'. Soon the detective returned, brandishing several items ranging from silver ware to house appliances. Mike said nothing and stood perfectly still for the cops to force his arms behind his back and lock the handcuffs in place. "Back to your old tricks again eh? We got your files up from Dallas, old habits die hard eh boy?” Atkins gave a sneer. Mike remained silent and just stared darkly at the floor.
Brianson began to march Mike from the room but suddenly halted when he realized that the detective was not following. Micky bit so hard on his lip that he could taste blood in his mouth when he saw the detective edge towards the closet once again, grin of triumph on his face.Micky felt his heart pound so hard he thought his chest was going to explode.
The detective was just a couple of inches away now and Micky could smell his greasy breath.
The light was blinding and Micky needed a couple of moments to let his eyes adjust before focusing on the scene before him. The sergeant was snickering to himself and the oily grin of the detective remained. They both looked bemusedly at Micky for a couple of moments and Micky could feel himself grow bright red. Finally the detective turned to Mike and ruffled his hair in a humiliating manner. "That's another old habit you're finding hard to get rid of, isn't it boy?"
Micky stalled. 'Another'? 'Old'? He gazed at Mike but the Texan refused to look in his direction and merely glared at the floor with hate because it wouldn't open up and swallow him. The truth was out.
Brianson ushered Mike out but Micky was frozen in shock. The detective kept gazing at him like he was some sideshow attraction and Micky felt the tears well up. What did it all mean?
He looked back at the policeman and saw a look of pity. "Take it from me boy.” He spoke lowly, "Dump this loser before you end up in hot water. Go find yourself a nice young girl. Don't get tangled up with this screwed up kid, he'll only drag you down with him. He's done it before." And with that, he was gone, with Mike being dragged behind him.
Micky was late to meet Coco and he found she had gone without him. He took the bus alone and walked the last street in the dying light. By the time he passed Peter's house tears were streaming down his face. What kind of a mug had he been? How gullible can you get? Mike had a habit of picking off young boys and he was the latest in a long line. He felt so low, his heart was dragging along the sidewalk. Occasionally he glanced at the ring on his finger and wondered if the only reason Mike had burgled that house was to buy him a present. That made Micky's tears run faster and his body began to shudder with all the emotion. He couldn't believe that Mike didn't love him, it didn't seem real. Maybe all that playing around was in the past and this was the real thing? Micky didn't know what to think anymore, he just knew he wanted to hide away for a while and just mull over everything.
How would he get to see Mike now? Mike couldn't go to jail, he was too young, but what if he was expelled from school? What if he couldn't see him again? Micky realized that he had walked home without his coat or his bag or anything, they were still at Mike's house, but he didn't care about that anymore. Right now, the only thing that occupied his mind was the gut-wrenching pain of having his heart ripped from his chest and put on display for everyone to laugh at. He felt betrayed and humiliated and alone, so terribly alone.
Micky sat on the curb for a few moments and buried his head in his hands, crying harder than ever before. Then he clambered to his feet and turned to the front door. He believed that things couldn't get any worse but when he turned to see his mom and dad standing in the door way with a police officer, he knew things were about to take a nosedive into misery.