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“Ay, Cotton, where you at?”
Mickey slammed the front door of the Milkovich house shut and scraped himself out of his damp winter coat. He threw his bag onto the floor and kicked off his shoes as he entered his twin brothers bedroom. He was nowhere to be found.
“Iggy, you seen Cotton?” Mickeys older brother, who was sitting on the couch, his eyes glued to some reality show on TV shrugged without turning his head. Mickey sighed and slapped him on the back of his head.
“I told you to keep an eye on him while I'm at work, asshole.” He headed to his room to get changed when he saw light, blonde hair peeking out from underneath his bed. Pretending not to see his brother, he took off his shirt and grabbed a fresh one from his dresser.
When he went down to sit on his bed, a hand tickled his ankle.
“Boo!” Mickey jumped back up and gasped loudly, pretending to be surprised.
“What the fuck?!” The blonde boy crawled out from underneath the bed, a proud smile on his face.
“I got you good this time, right, Mick?” He clapped his hands, excited that he had finally managed to scare his brother.
“Jesus, Cotton. You scared the shit out of me. Good one!” He held up one hand and Cotton gave him a high five.
“You okay? What did you do all day?” Mickey asked and ruffled through his brothers hair. Cotton sat down on the bed and started playing with the hem of his sweater.
“Good. Do you know when christmas is?” He laughed as he sat down next to him.
“Of course I do. We talked about the holidays. It's December the 25th, remember? That's two weeks from today. Why are you asking?” The blonde avoided his eyes and stood back up.
“Mick, what's a mush-head?” Mickeys eyebrows shot up to his hairline and his mood changed instantly.
“Who the fuck said that?” The boy placed a hand on his brothers knee.
“Don't say the f-word. That's a bad word!” Mickey took his brothers hand and put his hand underneath his chin, forcing him to look him in the eyes.
“Did somebody say that to you? I thought you were with Iggy the whole day? Did you leave the house without him? I told you you shouldn't do that.” Cotton didn't answer. His expression guilty.
Mickey nudged him, waiting for an answer.
“I just went to the playground because I wanted to go on the swings. When I walked home I saw ice skates in the window of the store. And the man asked if I wanted to buy them. And I said no, I want them for christmas.” He stopped and put his hand on Mickeys cheek.
“I don't want you to yell. Promise, you won't get angry like last time when that boy called me a bad word!” Mickeys face got soft immediately. Unlike his siblings, Cotton didn't like fighting, screaming or anything of that nature. Which was unfortunate, since he lived in the Milkovich household.
“I promise. Now tell me!” He clasped his hands and took a deep breath.
“The man said: 'You should wish for a new brain, mush-head!” He watched his brother stand up and rub his temples, trying not to do anything rash.
“Well?” Mickey said, forcing a smile onto his face. “What'd you say back?” Cotton shrugged.
“I don't know what that means, so I just walked back home. Also Ian said if you cant say anything nice, don't say anything at all.” Mickey patted his head.
“Next time, you'll punch him in the face, like I showed you, alright?” Cotton smiled and nodded.
“Now get dressed. Let's go buy you those skates!” The blonde boys eyes lit up and he jumped to his room to change while Mickey went back to the living room.
“Iggy? Get up, we gotta pay a visit to someo-” He stopped when he saw his brother already in his coat, holding a gun and a baseball bat.
“I heard. Let's go.”
Their way to the sports store next to the neighbourhood playground took longer than expected because they had to stop a couple of times so Cotton could pet stray dogs, but eventually they reached the rundown shop with the bars in front of the display windows.
“Wait here for a minute, okay?” Mickey said, but Cotton didn't even listen anymore. His hands were pressed against the safety grid, his eyes glued on the skates lying there inbetween fake snow and christmas ornaments.
Iggy handed him the bat and they entered the store.
The guy leaning behind the glass counter was a dirty, bearded man, Mickey estimated to be around his fathers age. He was flipping through a magazine, ignoring the customers as they entered the room.
“I was just wondering” Mickey said sweetly as he approached the guy. “How much those skates in the window cost.”
The vendor shrugged and jumped back when the bat crashed onto his magazine and into the glass counter.
“What the fuck?” He screamed, a small trickle of blood running down his face, where a glass splinter had cut his skin.
“Remember the boy you called a mush-head today?” Iggy took a step towards him and drew his gun.
“I think you owe him an apology.” Mickey nodded approvingly and let his eyes wander around the room, looking for what to crash next.
The guy scoffed.
“Fuck no!” Mickey smiled at him and let the bat trail over a shelf of preserving jar, watching them as they burst open on the floor, a sweet scent filling the air around him.
Iggy grabbed the vendor by the collar and dragged him outside where Cotton was now sitting on the ground waiting for his brothers.
“Cotton, the man wants to tell you something.” Mickey offered his brother a hand and helped him stand up while Iggy was holding the guy at gunpoint.
“Sorry, boy.” He spat the words in Cottons direction, clearly not meaning any of it. Iggy sighed and cocked the gun, the guy in front of him flinching at the sound.
“Alright, alright, relax. I'm sorry I called you a mush-head. Won't happen again.” Cotton nodded his head a forgiving smile on his face.
“That's alright!”
Mickey nodded, gently pushing his brother behind him. They led the vendor back into the store and Iggy grabbed three pairs of skates from the window.
“Don't you ever talk to my brother again, understand?” Mickey said as he rammed the end of the bat into the guys stomach.