Bubbles

Chapter 4

Lucy

"She doesn't like food, though."
"So?"
"So I can't take her to a restaurant."
"Take her somewhere else then. What about the garage?" Mickey wiggles his eyebrows at me and I punch him in the stomach.
"She wears dresses," I look out of the window of my apartment, thoughtfully clenching and unclenching my fists. "I don't think she's the I-like-cars type. And I'm just getting over my last girlfriend!"
"Dresses? Luce, you can just slip your hand up-"
"Shut the fuck up before I put you in a world of pain. Besides, I haven't even asked her out yet. She'd probably say no. Her mother's like, super homophobic."
"Damn her psycho mother to hell!"
He grabs my cheeks and makes meaningful eye contact. "You must take this opportunity! She's not a druggie and she's actually a nice person!"
I lick his hand.
He leaps back and swears.
"Yeah, she is nice. Sometimes the stuff she says makes her sound like a druggie, but it's cute anyway." I stick my tongue out of my mouth, disliking the metallic taste of his skin.
"That's what you get for licking a mechanic, you silly girl!" He dances away from me and into the kitchen.
I get an idea.
I slink towards the doorway, listening to his footsteps as he goes to the fridge.
I yelp.
"Mick, come quick! I got hurt!" I fake cry.
"I'm not falling for that!" I hear him chuckle.
"No, really!"
After a minute, he dashes through. I trip him up as he enters the room, and he does a spectacular flop onto the carpet.
"Ha, wanker. That's what you get for insulting a biker!" I wipe the fake tears and smirk.
"You better make me a sandwich to repay for this!" He flips onto his back and groans.
I kick him in his family jewels. "And, that's what you get for being a misogynistic arse in the presence of a feminist."
His eyes pop and he lets out an excess of slurred profanities.
I go to make a sandwich anyway.

"Hi, Penny." I bite my lip as I watch Mickey's amused expression. He's been bugging me to call her for a total of two hours. Sometimes it really sucks having a whiny ass bitch as your flatmate.
"Hey, Lucy. Your chips didn't make me fat."
He also forced me to put the speaker on, and is now snorting.
"She does sound a bit psychedelic," He whispers.
I slap him and he shrieks.
"What's happening? That sound happens with my parents sometimes. Are you okay?" Penny's soft voice is laced with concern. It's like tainting a toddler's innocence.
I feel sick.
"Yeah, it was just Mick being presumptuous and judgemental." I flash him a meaningful glare.
"Who's Mick? Like Mickey Mouse? I like Mickey Mouse. He's funny," she giggles, and then her tone changes abruptly. "Mum doesn't let me watch him, she says he's for little kids."
Mickey gives me a weird look. He mouths 'are you a cradle robber?'.
I raise my hand to slap him again and he steps back, stifling a laugh.
"You can watch Mickey Mouse at my house. You can meet the real Mick, too - he's just as funny, especially when he tries to look intelligent." I blow a kiss at him and he frowns, pretending to bat it away.
"I want you to meet Greg. Not if Alice is there though, you won't like him when he's being mean. I don't like him when he's mean. You probably shouldn't be there when he touches me, either - he says that can only happen in his room. He says I wouldn't be a good friend if I told anyone. Oh, no!" She gasps. "I didn't mean to! You have to forget that, Lucy! I have to go!"
The call is quickly ended.
Mickey and I gape at each other.
"Is she like, a prostitute, or...?" It sounds like an insult, but he's being serious.
"No! Oh, my God! She doesn't even know, either. For fuck's sake! Who even is Greg? He's clearly just using her naivety to persuade her that what he's doing is fine. It's not! Ugh, it's not!"
I find myself shaking, my teeth grating together.
"Hey, hey. Listen to me. It's alright, we can stop this."
Mickey has my shoulders in a firm grip, pulling me back down to earth. "We can just tell her it's not right. Maybe she's okay with it. Hell, maybe she even likes it. You have to think about that. Look at me, Luce. Trust me."
I look up at his dark brown eyes, trying to find sanity in them.
I calm down a little, and fling myself against his chest.
He smells like men and fuel and sweat and his muscles are uncomfortably hard but I don't care. I cling to him, burying my face, pressing my fingers into his back. This is only about the second or third time I've ever hugged Mick, even though we've been living together for two years. In the first year I didn't see him much and I ignored him when I did, but then he transferred to a different garage. He was home more often and less of an asshole.
He takes advantage of this occasion, and presses his nose into my hair.
"You always smell really sexy, Luce. It's such a shame you're not into the D."
It's then that I let go and whack him over the head.