The school I now go to is a lot smaller than my old one, and I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. For one, large crowds scare me, and so does meeting too many people at once, so this situation is easier to deal with than it could be. But on the flip side, being in a small school means everyone knows about everyone else's business, so as soon as I got to first period and the teacher made me introduce myself, the rest of the school seemed to somehow know all about me, too.

"We have a new student joining us today," the teacher, Ms. Whatever-Her-Name-Was (I was too nervous in the moment to retain trivial details like names) had said. She gestured towards me and smiled with perfectly straight, white teeth and blonde hair in the style of what I could image a 50s housewife rocking. "Stand up and introduce yourself," she said pleasantly, though the words were anything but pleasant to my ears.

My hand went up to my necklace and I held it as a form of moral support, and I stood up on command, avoiding the gazes of the twenty-something other students in the room with their eyes scanning me, judging me. "Um, hi," I said, my nervousness obviously seeping into my voice. Then, remembering that I'm not supposed to be my old self anymore, I cleared my throat and said more confidently, "My name is Evelyn W- Barry. I just moved here last week from New Jersey."

"Why'd you move to here?" some kid called out.

I shrugged. "Why not?"

A few kids chuckled, and then another one called out, "Nice hair!" When I looked up, tucking a strand of red hair behind my ear, I saw that he had a lip ring and bleached blond hair falling into his eyes. I was immediately intrigued.

"Nice piercing," I shot back.

"Same to you." He grinned proudly. "Did mine myself."

"No you didn't, Ryder," the girl next to him rolled her eyes. "Stop telling people that."

The rest of the class laughed and then the teacher had to settle us all down. I sat down down again and we started English class. I was worried I'd be completely lost, but turns out they'd just finished reading The Hobbit, so my day started on a series of high notes I can only hope won't be ruined with the second half of the day. It's what I find myself thinking about as I sit at a lunch table alone eating my cheese sandwich, no one wanting to make the first move toward the new kid.

"Hey, New Kid."

I stand corrected.

I snap my head up to see that Ryder has decided to sit across from me.

"Hey," I say.

"You look familiar," he says, getting straight to the point.

Although I've been kept out of the public eye, not joined any social media, or attended any interviews with the band, paparazzi have caught us a couple times. Only a couple, but pictures of me do exist somewhere. As well as pictures fans have taken when I've been spotted at shows in the past. I can only hope he's not referring to any of those less-than-flattering pictures where my hair is disheveled in the wind or I have eyeliner smudged on my face.

He snaps his fingers. "You look like my cousin."

Oh.

"People usually say I look like an emo freak, but cousin works too."

"You don't look emo," he says, looking me up and down. That's when I remember the outfit I chose for myself this morning wasn't my usual black jeans and band tee, no choker, and I even held off on the eye-liner. Evelyn Barry's image is a lot different to Evelyn Way's.

"Oh," I say. "Well, then people usually say I look like a normal freak."

He lets out a short laugh. "Join the club, my friend," he says, then leans in closer from across the table, propped up on his elbows. "Why'd you really move here?"

He studies my face as he waits for an answer, and as I wrack my brain for one that might bore him enough that he'll drop the subject completely, I notice his eyes are a shade of blue I've never seen in anyone's eyes before.

"You know what," he says, sitting up straight again, "You don't wanna talk about it. That's fine. Me, on the other hand, I'm an open book." He raises his palms as if that proves his point.

"Okay," I say. I pretend to think of a question, then ask the one I've been wondering about since he first sat down. "Why are you talking to me? I don't mean this in a bad way, but you seem like you'd have better things to do."

"Are you kidding? I've sorta been waiting for someone who's not from around here to show up. Someone who doesn't already know all the gossip, who doesn't have any drama with anyone else, you know? And you say you're from New Jersey?" he asks. I nod and his brilliant blue eyes light up. "That's so cool! I have a friend from there. I hear a lot of great bands are from over there, too."

"There sure are great bands over there," I agree, nodding. The thought that he knows a thing or two about Jersey, and that he may have even heard of My Chemical Romance, brings a smile to my face.

"Are you doing anything after school today? I could show you around the neighbourhood. You know, since you're new," he suggests.

"I'll have to ask if I'm allowed, but yeah, I think that'd be fun."

He gives me a double thumbs up and grins, "Rad! Meet me at the school entrance after the bell." Then, just like that, he swings his legs over the bench of the cafeteria table and leaves, stalking out of the room with a spring in his step. I catch him trip on his untied shoelace just outside the doorway, but he never falters and soon he's out of my sight.

I sit there, stunned for a few seconds with my widened eyes staring at the cafeteria entrance he just disappeared through, wondering if what just happened really happened. Within only a few short minutes, a kid sat down across from me, actually started talking to me, didn't shrink away when I called myself an "emo freak," and made plans to hang out with me. I guess I'll have to let Emerald know I proved her wrong. Or did I prove myself wrong? Either way, I wasn't completely anti-social like we both thought I'd be.

I slip my phone out of my pocket with the intention of texting Emerald right away, then I remember I need to ask permission to hang out with Ryder today after school. I tap on the contact name 'Dad' and start typing the message, my thumbs working quickly, "hey is it okay if I..."

I stop typing.

I erase the message.

I back out and tap on the contact name 'Laura Barry' and type the message, "Would it be alright if I hang out with a friend I made after school today? I'll be back by dinner."

Almost instantly, her reply pops up on my screen.

Laura Barry: Of course sweetheart. I'm glad you made a friend. :)

Evelyn: thanks

I don't have the vocabulary to describe how much I hate that she thought it'd be okay to call me sweetheart. It makes my skin crawl, takes away appetite and I find myself throwing away half of my sandwich in the trash on my way out of the cafeteria. If she tries that in person, I'm honestly not sure how I'd react. I just hope I won't find out.

• • •

Just as he said he'd be, I find Ryder at the entrance of the school after the bell rings at the end of the day. He's leaning against the brick wall just outside the big front doors, staring at his phone.

"You're actually here," I comment, leaning against the wall next to him.

"You thought I wouldn't be?" he asks, without looking up from his phone.

I shrug. "It wouldn't have been the first time I'd been lied to. And you left pretty quickly there at lunch, I thought maybe it was all a joke and you didn't want me to see you laughing."

"You overthink too much, don't you?" he asks, clicking off his phone and shoving it into his army-green jacket pocket.

"Yeah," I breathe. He starts walking away from the school and I follow a half-step behind him, letting him lead the way. It may also be because he's about six feet tall and his strides are much longer than mine.

"Same here," he says. "Weed usually helps with that. Calms me down. You ever smoked?"

"Cigarrettes," I deadpan.

"A good kid like you?" he teases. "And you're how old?"

"Sixteen, but that was when I was fourteen. A lot of shit happened when I was fourteen," I explain, keeping it vague on purpose. "Wait... so how old are you?"

We stop at a street corner and he presses the button to cross the road. With his finger, might I add. I'd never touch that button with my bare skin. "Eighteen," he says as we cross the road. "I failed a couple grades," he answers my next question before I even got to ask it. "I'd be graduating this year if it wasn't for that."

"Oh," I say, wondering how I always get tangled up with kids older than me in times of crisis, and equally wondering if this'll be a repeat of sorts and I'll lose contact with Ryder in a couple weeks and never see him again.

We walk in silence for a while as I take in the unfamiliar surroundings. We're on the opposite side of the school than where Laura's house is, where I've been cooped up for the past week. Taking a walk in the early April warmth feels nice. A lot better than being in Laura's old house with the creaky stairs and the bedroom door that won't shut properly.

Soon, we turn a corner and I'm met with a large graveyard on the opposite side of the road. On our side, is a huge red building. The windows are boarded up and the walls are covered in graffiti. I busy myself by looking at the pictures and reading the words on the building, and I feel Ryder looking at me as I do it. Studying me as intently as he was in the cafeteria just earlier today.

"I'm gay as hell, by the way," I say.

"So am I," he says. "Oh my god, did you think I was gonna hit on you or something?"

"Well, I don't know, anything's possible."

He laughs. "Got a girlfriend?" he asks.

"Yep," I say. "Got a boyfriend?"

"Nope," he says.

"Oh."

He laughs again. His laughter is as infectious as Frank's and I find myself laughing along with him until we stop in front of a rundown-looking apartment building at the end of the street. If I turn around, look over my shoulder, the graffitied building and the graveyard are still in sight.

"Here we are," he says.

"I thought we were going exploring," I say, looking up at the structure with the weak-looking windows and chipped paint-job, thinking this is a lot less interesting than a forgotten bridge or an abandoned cabin in the woods.

"This is my place," he explains. "Well, kinda. It's just, my roommate has explored a lot more around here than I have even if they've only been around here less than two years."

I let him lead me up a few flights of stairs silently until we reach a white door, identical to the others other than the fact that this door doesn't have a lock. He catches me staring and says casually, "Locks are for honest people. If someone wanted to break in here, they could just knock the door down." When he sees my raised eyebrows, he adds sheepishly, "And also we kept locking ourselves out and got fed up with it."

I snort. He opens the door and pushes it open smoothly.

The look of the apartment is exactly what you'd expect from two kids figuring out how to live on their own for the first time. To the left, I catch a glimpse of the small kitchen with a counter piled high with dishes. My view of the right, which I assume is the living room, is blocked by the door, so I let Ryder go in ahead of me, step in behind him, then shut the door behind myself.

"I'm home and I bring a friend!" he announces.

From the couch directly to my right, a voice I've definitely heard before but can't pinpoint exactly where, exclaims, "Holy shit! Way?"

• • •

hey so go comment on new book/not a fic. it's important

https://my.w.tt/xOFXbGZeq5