"chunk!"

"oh my god,"

"you idiot!"

chunk stares at us while holding the statue.

"look, it's not broken, it's perfect!" chunk replies holding it out to us.

i notice that a part of it is noticeably chipped, a huge part.

"oh my god," mikey repeats widening his eyes.

i bend over laughing and pointing at the piece that sat on the carpet as mikey frantically picks it up.

"that's my moms most favourite piece!" he shouts.

"you wouldn't be here if it wasn't," mouth pipes in with a grin as well. i laugh louder at his comment while mikey stares at the broken piece.

"shut up, mouth," mikey and brand say together.

"hey, you guys ever heard of detroit?" data asks us fidgeting with his tools.

"soitenly, motown started there, also it's the murder capital of the country," mouth says to him.

"well, let me tell you that we're moving there when we lose our house tomorrow," data tells us.

"i thought you were just moving to the town over!" i say looking to him, he replies was a shake of the head.

"shut up about this stuff, my dad will fix it," mikey tells him absentmindedly as he tries to fit the broken piece back onto the statue.

"sure he will, if he gets his next four hundred pay checks by tomorrow," brand tells him shaking his head.

"you're wrong brand,"

"mikey, it's not just going to magically fix itself back onto it," i tell him as i watch him try to fix the statue.

just then we all hear footsteps coming from the front door causing us to all turn to see mrs. walsh walk in with a lady.

"oh, hi...mom!" mikey says quickly shoving the figure behind him and chunk.

"hi mom," brand speaks from his same chair.

"hi, hi, hi!" chunk calls out over his mouth full of chips, the chips that should be mine.

"hi!" i smile standing in front of her.

"hi boys, nicky, i see data dropped by," she smiles picking through her purse.

"hi mrs. walsh!" data says with a loud voice. we avert our eyes from her and turn to the woman standing next to her. she's got a scarf held tightly over her head as if she were an old lady but in contrast she looks about the same age as my own mother.

"hi, mrs. walsh," mouth says while combing through his hair like he's getting ready for school pictures or something.

"kids, this is rosalita, she's going to help me with packing until my arm is better," she says looking down at us.

"hola!" mouth shouts as if she were deaf.

"rosalita doesn't speak a word of english and i know that some of you took spanish in school..."

"i speak perfect spanish, i'd love to help!" mouth says happily.

"no way," i shake my head hoping mrs. walsh wouldn't let him translate.

"you're a lifesaver clark, come with us will you?" she asks him heading upstairs with rosalita.

once they're out of sight mikey takes out the person made of clay from behind his back.

"mikey, get some glue will ya?" i tell him.

"better hope mom doesn't see it," brand calls out while watching us.

"not like you had any ideas on how to fix it, brick brain," i call out to him.

"not like my friend was the one that broke it in the first place," he replies, a true point he has.

"i'll get the glue," i say walking into the kitchen. mikey's family has this huge, huge, huge drawer that sits on the bottom that holds everything in the entire universe in it.

i squat and peer inside of it, looking for superglue.

"there's elmers glue!" i call out to the boys behind me. i tread through the drawer some more but there's no way i'd be able to find a small tube of glue in this giant heap of junk.

"someone help me out?" i yell.

i sit crisscross because my thighs are starting to burn, the chips i steal from mikeys dad are starting to get to me and now i'm not sure if he hides them on us or himself.

someone comes into the room and kneels beside me, i look up to find mikey.

"did you find it?" he asks looking into the drawer.

"no,"

we search the drawer together and a part of me wants our hands to brush against each other, but the other part of me is too nervous to purposely make it happen.

"there," mikey whispers reaching for the glue in the right corner, all the way on the bottom. i smile at our—his—achievement and stand, hitting my head against the counter top.

"aah!" i shout reaching for my head.

"nicole! are you alright?" mikey asks me. i sit down and rub my head with a hand.

"is it bleeding?" i ask him. he comes towards me and moves my hair gently, looking onto my scalp.

"it's not too bad," he tells me holding my hair high up.

"what's that supposed to me?"

"it's just a little red, and not much blood is coming out," he says. he lets go of my hair and fingers through it gently to brush it before standing back up.

"come on, it'll be fine," he says holding out a hand to me, which i take. he pulls me up from my spot so we can run to the living room, mikey throwing the glue to chunk.

"glue it," he informs him, dropping to his knees.

i turn to see what data's doing, which isn't much. he's still messing with his tools but he's sitting on the couch now.

"data, what're ya making now?" i ask him.

"punching hand," he tells me, not looking up.

"cool," i whisper walking over to him.

"look, i'll push the hand into the pocket, and when i pull this, it'll fly out!" he tells me enthusiastically.

"woah,"

"think she'll notice?" chunk asks holding the statue up. we all crowd around to see his work, brand included.

"you idiot, you glued it on upside down!" mikey says nervously.

"looks fine to me," chunk shrugs.

"you dork. if g-d made us that way, you'd all be pissing into your faces," brand said thumping him upside the head.

mrs.walsh, mouth, and rosalita all came down the stairs then, causing mikey to grab the statue to hide it.

"boys, i'm taking rosalita to the supermarket, now listen..." mrs.walsh says to us.

"hi, mrs.walsh," data calls out.

"i'm going to be back in an hour, mikey i want you kept inside. brand, if he's coming down with asthma i don't want him out in the rain,"

"he should be put in a plastic bubble," he replies to her.

"i'm serious brandon, that's not funny. if he takes one step outside you are in serious, deep,- uh- "

"shit ma,"

"i don't like that language, but that's exactly what you're going to be in...and you dotta,"

"data,"

"data, use the back door from now on. okay?"

"alright," data replies with the drop of a smile.

"what is that?" she asks pointing towards mikey and chunk. their faces flush with nervousness as they hide the statue.

"what is that?" she says again pointing to the potato chips on the ground,

"that is a mess, i want it cleaned up boys!" she tells them, turning to leave. as soon as she closed the door behind her, the boys get into action.

brand stands up and walks over to mikey ruffling his hair.

"you want a breathing problem? you got one!" he tells him pulling him into a massive headlock.

"hey!"