Behind the Screen

"Mikey, I swear to God, if you mess up this heist, I will boil you alive," I threaten.
"Dude, I only messed up, like—" he starts, but I cut him off.
"73 times and counting," I reply. Mikey rolls his eyes as a response.
As we make our way into the house, the alarm starts to make slow little beeps. 74 times; goddamn it, Mikey. I cuss and make my way to the kitchen, quickly grabbing as much china as I can. "Mikey, you better get out of here!" I yell to him, wherever he is in the house.
We break the glass of the backdoor and the alarm jumps to a shriek. We jump the fence, making sure not to break any of our new belongings, and we follow the path off into the woods. The stream, which is full due to the rain, was the only thing separating us from a change of clothes, about 10 yards in front of us.
Wading through the water, we trudge until we get to a thick patch of shrubbery. "Here, Way," I say and toss him his new clothes, balled up tightly, just the way he packed them. "Go change over there; I don't want you to see me."
"Ditto, Collins," he replies, tossing his older shirt at me. I ignore his childish antics and change. White button down, blue jeans, and my favorite beige trench coat. "Let's roll!" I yell, grabbing the clothes bag and setting the clothes in it.
"Dmitri, they can't send us to jail," Mikey mutters. I would have thought that he was talking to himself, had he not said my name. "We'd get, like, 100 hours of community service or something, right? We should sell it and confess!"
I stop where I am, turning to look at the lanky, bespectacled boy tailing me. "Mikey, we're 17. They can send us to Juvie or to military school, which I cannot do again." I shiver at the memory before adding "So, move your ass." I drag Mikey through the rest of the woods until we reach our car.
I throw him in the backseat, along with our myriad of bags and, as an afterthought, set the childlock on the doors. I crawl through to the front seat and begin the long drive to the rental car place. Mikey had illegally rented it for a trip to New York, six hours roundtrip, which meant we were well out away from the crime scene. My hometown of Pennsylvania is four and a half hours away, giving us just enough time to rob and to visit my grandmother.
Not at the same time, of course.
As we drive to Granny's, I suddenly burst out laughing at a memory of something that my grandmother had said earlier. "Holy fuck, that's hilarious!" I cry, gripping the steering wheel.
"What?" Mikey mumbles. I apparently woke him up with my fit of laughter.
"So, we're on my way to my grandma's, right?" I start. "Granny's under the impression that I'm bringing my lover." Mikey lets out an uncomfortable laugh.

*Mikey's Point Of View*
That laugh? Yeah, that was me trying to laugh off my hurt. Hardee-har-har, Dmitri. He was actually my first kiss during a game of Spin The Bottle when I was 14. And it was my own birthday party, for God's sake!

My eyes hungrily stared at Dmitri, canvassing his dark brown hair that was flopping into those perfect gray-blue eyes. I was hoping and praying the empty plastic Coke bottle landed on him. He, of course, was mentally undressing Rosie Simmons, the only 16 year old who attended, other than my brother. Speak of the devil: the bottle landed right between Gerard and Dmitri.
Since incest was an obvious no, I groaned, as if I wasn't looking forward to the next few moments. "C'mon, let's get it over with," I sighed but my heart clenched as Dmitri took my hand and lead me to my bedroom closet.
I quickly turned on the light and shut the door, making sure to lock in, in case my bastard brother decided to be his own stupid self. "Well?" I asked, shrugging.
"Rules are rules, Way," Dmitri said, also shrugging. Someone asked if we were ready through the door and Dmitri answered back with "Give us 20 seconds!"
"This'll be my first kiss, you know," I told him.
"It won't count," he answered, pushing his god-forsaken hair out of his eyes. I looked away, hurt but relieved.
"We're ready!" I hollered and Dmitri immediately moved closer to me, crashing his lips against mine. They were warm and soft, just like I thought they would be.
He pulled away all too soon and pressed his forehead against mine. "Maybe it does count," he whispered.
"Yeah," I agreed. "Maybe it does."

Notes

Written by: notcastielway
Betaed/edited by: Sweet Peasus
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