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The first time Bobbie catches sight of them, he can instantly tell that they’ll be a headache.
The first is dressed in the rattiest jacket he’s ever seen, one that Heather herself would scrunch her nose at (albeit she does that at everything), and a clean complexion that was too good to be a greaser.
The second just looks like a pussy.
It’s not enough to attract his attention, not until the first one loudly clears his throat and taps his foot. He doesn’t feel like moving to face them, but when Kenny and Heather both look at him expectantly, he begrudgingly chooses to acknowledge them.
“Fuck do you want?” He asks, sparing them just a glance before turning his back on them.
“You ain’t tough, man.”
“Are you trying to be?”
If they were looking for a fight, he’d gladly give it to them. Bobbie had been itching for one lately. Heather isn’t.
“Ugh, are you serious? Who’re you supposed to be? Double Trouble?” She mocks, and behind her is Kenny, who snorts. It made them look stupid, every time Kenny was around.
Whatever. He had good drugs.
“Don’t start running your mouth, alright? Stuff it.” The second one leans forward. “Name’s Henry. That’s Vic. You remember us, asshole?”
“Don’t know, don’t care.” Bobbie moves past them, making extra effort to bump their shoulders. Both Henry and Vic stumble back. Too easy.
“Hey, dude.” The first one, Vic, grabs his collar. Bobbie shoves him off, the itch to fight growing more and more obvious. “You owe us shit.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
“Vic and Henry, man. Never thought I’d see you again, but here we are. It was middle school and you took our ride out. Wrecked it like hell.”
“I can’t seem to remember. Looks like you’ve got the wrong person. Scram.” He sneers back sarcastically.
“What, did your ugly ass scar give you brain damage? I know that you—”
As predicted, the only thing needed to shut them up was a good punch to the face.
He doesn’t even bother to shake his hand at the sting that runs through it. Vic staggers backward, and Henry takes a pathetic shot and ends up on the ground right after.
“You aren’t shit. Scram.” He repeats, and steps over them before any teacher can come crying about appropriate behaviors.
Footsteps approach them, and Nancy raises an eyebrow as she turns the corner. “You guys tell me to meet you here, and this is the sight I receive?”
Kenny shrugs, moving past him and Heather. “Isn’t it pretty?”
Heather’s already pissed. She grabs both boys by the arm and pulls them towards the doors. “Oh my god, let’s go already. School let out five whole minutes ago, and I’m not trying to get another detention for this. It’s totally hell.”
Sometimes Bobbie questioned the morality of giving a girl a good beating.
“What were they talking about, Bobs?” Kenny nudges his shoulder as they make their way off of the school grounds.
“Don’t fucking call me that. How should I know? Never seen them before.”
“You totally have,” Heather interjects. “I mean, why else would they come up to you all like that over a little grudge.”
“Did you recognize them?” If Bobbie and Heather were constantly together throughout middle school, then she’d probably recognize them. Maybe Kenny as well, though he came around much later on. It was a ‘gift’ of Heather’s to recognize. She knew and remembered faces like no one else could.
It was especially disturbing (not as strange as Kenny’s drug-induced hallucinations) when she would point and say something stupid like, “Bobbie, that’s totally the kid who brought the frog into Kindergarten on the first day of school.”
Oddly enough, he actually believed her sometimes.
“Well, no—”
“Then they’re stupid and can’t even remember who messed up their ‘ride’.”
“Mm, well I sure remember a messed up ri—”
“Don’t.”
If he even thought about King today, he’d blow up on someone.
Besides, that incident didn’t involve anyone named Henry or Vic.
“Maybe they’re just cruisin’ for trouble,” Kenny suggests.
“Must have a boring life to try pissing Bobbie off,” Nancy adds on.
Funnily enough, he actually makes an attempt to remember any other situation involving those guys, but he comes up completely empty. There was no reason for them to come up and start something if there wasn’t already something to be started.
Kenny’s blabbering breaks him out of his train of thought. He’d think about it later.
—
The house is already loud when he walks in hours later.
Both Ruben’s middle school and Rolando and Ricardo’s elementary let out later than his, but he always ended up staying out until well after his final class. Ruben had insisted that he was old enough to be home alone and it counted because ‘Mama was there’.
She sure didn’t ever look like she was there.
With the choice to leave the kids alone, naturally, it was always hell when he opened the door.
“Yo, Bobbie!” Ruben calls, crossing his arms as he looks up from the couch, for once not occupied by a passed-out body. Probably in her empty bedroom. “Tell this little drip that he’s totally cheating!”
He jabs a finger at Ricardo, who furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Am not. He's cheating. They’re both cheating.”
Rolando adopts a baffled expression. “You little—”
“Ruben, stop blaming everyone else. Ricardo, we all know that they’re cheating and framing it on you. Rolando, take the cards out of your sleeves.” He commands. The only thing on his mind is a good lunch and rest.
It’s silent for a moment, but very reluctantly, Rolando lets the cards fall and sighs. “How’d you always know, huh Bobbie?”
“You never wear long sleeves. You always cheat.” Ricardo complains.
The first one catches his attention. Rolando was the type of kid to wear shorts in the snow. It pissed him off like crazy because he’d end up sick with Bobbie shoving soup down his throat.
“I thought you stuffed all of your long-sleeved shirts away,” Bobbie comments simply.
All three boys freeze up. Like they’ve got something to hide.
Ruben speaks up first. “He took one of mine. Bet he’s jealous of how good my shirts are. See that? Clean and hole-less.”
They were definitely hiding something. Bobbie takes a few steps back into the living room and stares them down. Ricardo always seemed to tattle, so he waits.
As expected, he opens his mouth before Rolando cuts him off.
“Nuh-uh, Ruben’s totally lying. We were playing wrestling and he banged my arm on the couch and there’s a big as—big old bruise. He thought you’d get mad because you hate when we wrestle so he told me to cover it up.” He explains simply.
“What have I told you—” Bobbie starts, and Ruben interrupts him.
“Sorry, sorry. We were bored, okay?”
“Whatever. If I catch you doing it, I’m grounding you.”
Three synchronized ‘no!’s tell him that they’ll be fine. As long as they don’t start pulling Ricardo into it.
No one makes a move to show him the bruise. Whatever. If that’s what it was, they were probably being somewhat honest. Rolando was a horrible liar. He’d always get nervous, sweating and biting his lip and giggling nervously.
There was a bit of fidgeting, but there was nothing out of the ordinary other than that. Bobbie makes an early dinner for the kids, who claim that they ate all of their lunch (which is true for once), and manages to pull them down into bed.
“It’s hot tonight. Don’t complain about it in the morning if you aren’t going to change shirts now.” He warns Rolando.
“Go fuss over the baby,” Rolando responds snarkily, though he gets up in the darkness and pulls off his shirt, grabbing a random one off the ground to pull over his head.
He’s rushing too fast to get back into bed, so Bobbie’s eyes stay on him, even as he turns onto his left side.
Which is strange, because Rolando always sleeps facing the door. On his right.
“Why are you being weird?” He asks.
“Am not.”
Ruben comes out of the bathroom and yawns loudly, flopping onto his mattress on the ground. “What’s weird?”
“Rolando.”
“Oh, we already knew that.”
“Shut up, lamebrain!”
“Both of you shut your mouths,” Bobbie orders, and the two of them comply. “Fine. Don’t tell me what’s wrong then. Just know that you’re bad at secrets.”
He moves out of the room and goes back to his. Their sleeping arrangements were simple: his parents in one room (which always only had one occupant), Ruben and Rolando together in the second, and Bobbie and Ricardo in the third. They weren’t rich enough for more than that, and though there was a fourth room, Ruben insisted that it wouldn’t be fair if two of them had to share.
Surprisingly enough, he didn’t seem to like the idea of Rolando and Ricardo sharing just as much as Rolando didn’t. He claimed that he was tired of Rolando’s complaining and that no one wanted to share.
He didn’t even like the idea of him and Rolando having their own rooms and Bobbie staying with Ricardo.
Bobbie’s positive that it was because he liked having someone else in the room.
Early teens. So terrible at admitting their feelings.
Bobbie is thankful that he was never like that.
—
He can see Henry and Vic eyeing him from across the cafeteria.
If they’re ready for a second round, Bobbie’s already bored. Nancy is staring back at them with a blank expression.
“Are they fans? It’s like they’re begging to be seen.” She pops her bubblegum.
“They’re something.”
They’re whispering to each other, hushed as they continue sneaking glances. It’s been a week since their first interaction, and he can’t tell if they’ve been plotting to approach him or avoid him. Either way, he couldn’t care less.
“Think they’re plotting something? They sure look like they’re plotting something.” Kenny observes. Heather sighs.
“Can we just pretend they don’t exist? Whatever history Bobbie has with them can stay between them. I don’t want any of it.”
“There is no history between us.”
“I’ll believe it when they admit it.”
“You’re believing their word over mine.” Bobbie frowns.
“They’ve got a reason in there somewhere.”
They most definitely did not.
Neither of them approach him by the end, nor do they come to him at the end of the day. He keeps his guard up for it, his eyes lingering at the end of hallways lest they materialize and try to blame him for whatever happened back in middle school, but there’s still nothing.
“Chill, Bobbie, I don’t think they’re coming back,” Kenny reassures, placing a hand on his shoulder that he easily shrugs off.
“They’ll be back when someone finally knocks those cheaters off Kenny.” Nancy contributes, to which Kenny quickly throws his hands up to feel for them.
“No way.”
Nancy raises an eyebrow at Bobbie as if to prove her point.
Heather shakes her head. “Listen, they’re a pair of candy asses that thought they could do something. After their little humiliation, they’re just gossiping because they can’t do anything else.”
“I don’t need to be comforted.” Bobbie glances back at them. He’d been leading them out of the school and in the direction of the park where they typically decided to hang after loitering around the convenience store. This time, however, he had taken the long route around.
“What’s with the change?” Heather questions.
“Just checking up on something.”
It had been about an hour since school ended, which meant that in a few minutes, Rolando and Ricardo would be getting out of school, and Ruben would be meeting them there.
He’d been doing some minor investigating. Despite the fact that Rolando insisted that it was to hide the bruises that he and Ruben got from roughhousing, there was no evidence of anything being knocked into when he got home.
Ricardo had also adopted long sleeves, to which Bobbie had nearly exploded on them before the realization came that there was something extremely…off.
Sure, Ricardo likes long sleeved shirts, but now all three of them were adopting the style. In the summer.
The only other explanation was that they were getting into fights at school and somehow covering it up (which he assumed meant that maybe Ricardo was getting bullied and Rolando was starting fights, but Ruben didn’t fit into that scenario) or they were fighting each other at school (which also didn’t make any sense).
When they pass by the school, most of the kids are gone or leaving, and he doesn’t see his brothers through the fence. Ruben was always there a little early so that he and Rolando could hang out quicker, so it was safe to assume that they all took off.
He turns back towards whatever conversation the others were having as they move towards the park when Kenny pauses and pulls him back.
He can’t even say anything before Kenny points towards an area behind the school. “Yo, isn’t that Henry? And Vic?”
The four of them stop and look to where Kenny’s gesturing to.
In a field behind the school, Henry is angrily jabbing his finger in Ricardo’s face, yelling something that he can’t make out. Vic is shaking Ruben by the shoulders, moving to grab his hair and yank his head back. Rolando kicks at Henry, who shoves him down.
Bobbie thinks he's going to kill someone today.
“Hell no.” Kenny's shrugging off his jacket and getting ready to move. Nancy pulls him down and whispers something in his ear and he stops.
Heather's lips part. “Ooh, Bobbie, if you don't beat their as—”
Bobbie is already halfway across the field.
He doesn't quite remember what happens next. He knows that he grabs Henry first, picking him up off the ground before slamming him headfirst into the grass as Rolando gapes up at him in surprise. Vic had let go of Ruben and turned towards him.
“Look who showed up.” He huffs, surging forward to tackle him to the ground. He fails miserably, and Bobbie kicks him in the jaw and grabs him by the collar of his shirt before hitting his head against Henry's.
“Do you think you're fucking tough? Huh? You dumb pieces of shit, I'll send you to hell!”
“This is—augh!” Vic gets cut off by Bobbie's uppercut. He staggers up and swings at him. “Your fucking fault! If you hadn't played dumb, we wouldn't have to take other measures to get you to pay!”
“You candy asses! Were you too pussy to fucking face me, huh? Did it make you feel better to go after some kids because you're weak as hell?”
“Don't act like such a saint.” Henry groans, holding a bloody nose. “You're—”
“Shut your fucking mouth you asshole.” He demands, and the next punch splits his knuckles and probably loosens one of Vic's teeth.
“Man, this guy's fucking crazy.” Henry gasps, pulling Vic up by his arms. “Let's fucking split.”
Bobbie would have run after them had he not been leaving behind his kid brothers. At some point the others had pulled them away, Heather awkwardly patting Ruben's back.
Kenny glares at the running figures and sends Bobbie a look. He nods. Kenny takes off after them. That was the thing about him. He always seemed to get serious when it really mattered.
Nancy hands Ricardo over to him, who was staring with wide, teary eyes, and Bobbie realizes that he's going to have to talk to them.
“No one's gonna judge you for cutting out right now.” Nancy says simply.
“I didn't need permission.” He pulls Ricardo into his arms, holding him the same way he did when he was much younger, and grabs Rolando's hand with the other, pulling him a few steps before letting go. “If you say anything—”
Heather raises her hands in surrender. “We won't. Just get them fixed up.”
He practically stomps off, breathing heavily and searching for something to say. Nothing comes up. He could berate them for not telling him that they'd been bothering them this whole time. He knew that their roughhousing story didn't make any sense. Should he apologize for that?
Maybe he should have asked for advice before leaving?
It's silent save for a few sniffles that only emphasize the fact that he had failed to keep his kid brothers safe. The same thing that he had vowed to do at twelve.
Pathetic.
It's Ruben who finally speaks up first. “You hurt them pretty bad, Bobbie.”
“I did.”
“That was pretty cool.” Rolando adds.
“Yeah, but the other girls kept trying to cover our eyes. Is Heather coming over tonight?”
“No. Yes. Maybe.” He breathes out. “How many bruises do you have?”
It goes silent. No one says a word.
“How many?”
“A lot.” Ricardo pipes up. “They kept hitting Ruben the most.”
“Nu uh! I was the strongest, they didn't even hurt me. I'm not some…some jellybean.” Ruben denies quickly.
“They're jellybeans.” Ricardo grumbles. “And I'm just telling Bobbie so he knows to give you the most band-aids.”
“I don't need them.”
Rolando sighs loudly. “I just wanna go home.”
“We are.” Bobbie says simply. He turns the corner onto their street and fishes the key out of his pocket, unlocking the door and practically kicking it open.
Mama's on the couch this time.
“Go to my room.” He puts Ricardo down and watches them drag their feet there. He stops by the bathroom and grabs a medical kit.
It’s still so unusually quiet when he walks in. Ruben’s at his desk, Rolando on Bobbie’s bed, and Ricardo’s sitting on his own bed. Ruben was apparently the worst off, so he starts there.
“Tell me the whole thing.” Bobbie rumbles lowly.
Ruben’s eyes flicker towards Rolando before he wets his lips and spills. “It started ‘bout a week ago.”
He explains, and sometimes Rolando would chime in as well. Vic and Henry knew about them and waited for them the same day that Bobbie had fought them for the first time. They told him that they had problems with Bobbie and wanted to send a message.
“I told them that they should say it to your face, but it looked like it already happened, and they got mad at me like it was my fault.” Ruben complained.
That’s when they had started hitting them. It started off with just Ruben until Rolando had jumped in, attempting to defend his brother.
“Even the square threw some good ones.” Rolando gestures towards Ricardo, who rolls his eyes.
They said that they were supposed to keep quiet about it and that they’d break and tell them where to find Bobbie at some point.
“I could’ve beat them, if they weren’t so big.” Ruben boasts. Bobbie stands up from his crouching position after rubbing ointment onto every scratch and bruise.
“You couldn’t have. That’s why you shouldn’t have lied about playing around with each other.”
“We were gonna prove that we were strong ‘nough. Like you. And we were helping you not get caught up in a mess.”
“You’re little kids. And your younger brothers were getting hurt as well. That's who you’re supposed to be protecting, not me.”
Ruben falters and ducks his head down in shame.
Rolando stares up at him with wide eyes when Bobbie moves to bandage a cut on his finger. “He told us not to tell, anyway.”
“What, did you think that he’d hit you harder? If you told me, I would have beat them to death. There would be no harder hits.”
Rolando frowns. “I wanna be like you when I grow up. And you never ask for help.”
Bobbie can’t think of anything to do but stare up at him. “Because I know that I can handle myself. Clearly, you couldn’t.”
It might not have been the right thing to say, because he hears a sniffle when he focuses his attention on Ricardo.
“I was gonna tell you.” Ricardo tries.
“You didn’t.”
He shakes his head. He has the least amount of injuries, so Bobbie finishes up pretty good. He turns back so that he can face all three of them and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Listen, if you want to be tough, you can’t let yourselves get beaten down. You should have told me the first time. Hell, if they had been the same age as you, you still should have told me.”
“We know.” Ruben and Rolando sigh in sync.
“I…it’s a bad image for me, too, do you get that? Not that—not that my image is what matters, but if I can’t even defend my family, then I can’t defend myself, okay?”
He was…awfully poor at this. He sends his pity to every parent who ever had to have this conversation.
“If something bad happens to you…” Bobbie pauses. He wasn’t prepared for this at all. “I might have to kill someone. Then I’d end up in jail, and you’d have to live without me.”
Rolando’s eyes water. Shit.
“Can you just say that you care about us normally?” Ricardo asks, scrunching his nose.
Yeah. He could probably just say that.
Ricardo pushes himself off the bed and wraps his arms around Bobbie’s leg and he stops, before letting his hand drop to his head.
Ruben and Rolando look at each other, before they both jump up and engulf him in a hug.
Rolando’s voice is muffled against his shirt. “We’re not ninnies for this.”
“You aren’t. You will be if you stain my shirt with your tears.”
It takes at least ten minutes for the three of them to detach themselves from Bobbie and scrub at their faces. Bobbie’s just glad that Ruben was finally realizing that he didn’t need to have one expression on all the time.
Kenny calls him later that evening to tell him that Henry and Vic had been dealt with. “If you ever need another favor—”
“What I need is some fucking drugs, bird dog.”
What comes from the other line can only be described as a voice laced with pure distraught. “Bird—”
Bobbie hangs up.
Ruben and Rolando are already in their beds when he checks up on them. They were nearly carbon copies of each other. Of him. He didn’t quite like that thought. It meant that he was an example, and he wasn’t sure that he was the best one.
Ricardo was different. He was paler and his hair was darker. But he’s the youngest, the most impressionable. He’s not like any of them.
Bobbie gets a second chance with influencing these kids. His dad has no impact on them. Neither does his mom.
It’s a sinking feeling, the realization that these kids were going to turn out the way they did because of his choices.
He doesn’t want to think about it.
Bobbie probably needs to talk to them more. So they turn out better than him. So they don’t end up with the wrong group. So they don’t end up startling awake in the middle of the night, echoes of screams and guns and fights in their minds. So they don’t jump at every loud noise.
They can’t turn out like him.
They can’t.