Gerard was still asleep when I left the house nearly an hour earlier than I usually do on a school morning. Even if he was, I doubt he'd want to speak to me at this point. He's busy, anyway, planning a tour during which the guys still don't know where they'll put me. I ignored him and didn't leave my room once this weekend, and I don't even feel guilty about not using that time to study or something.

I feel nothing.

I don't know where I'm going now. I have no destination in mind as I walk down the road. The sky is overcast, and I can see my breath every time I exhale; swirling clouds reminding me that it's basically now winter. My baggy sweatpants, and denim jacket I put on over a red and black flannel offer me no protection against the cold.

I find myself in a familiar place. A place I once called, "My favourite walking path in New Jersey." I haven't been here in months, but I remember the way and trek on, kicking a stone along the path as I go.

Soon, I reach the centre of the park. It's not as nice as it is during the summer. Instead of the colourful flowers, the bright green grass and trees, and the butterflies and bees that would be buzzing around, the place is lifeless. Gloomy, even. It's all so quiet and still it's almost eery.

In the very middle of the park there's a gazebo which I approach with the goal of sitting down and shielding myself a bit from the cold. It's been decorated for Christmas, lights strung around the edge of the roof. They're not on, though, it's too early in the day.

I'm still kicking the stone, but stop when I hear a voice ring out ahead. "Hey, Kid, what are you doing skipping school?"

I look up to see a boy no older than sixteen stand up from one of the benches in the gazebo. He swings his leg over the guard rail and sits, propped up against one of the arches.

"I could ask you the same," I say. I guess I'm skipping school today.

"True, true."

I climb the stairs then copy his actions, sitting on the rail opposite him, "Why are you skipping?"

The boy shrugs, "Cause I can. You?"

"Sick of it."

He laughs a bit. "Aren't we all?" His smile doesn't reach his eyes, which are dark, almost charcoal coloured. He has a grey beanie on, but his hair reaches almost his shoulders and it's just as black as his eyes.

"I guess so."

"You got a name, Kid?"

"Eve."

"Boring," he mumbles.

"What?" I ask, only I heard what he said.

"I said your name's boring." I'm not even offended. He's not trying to be mean, he's just being honest. Somehow, I admire that: Being able to say what you're thinking out loud.

"Then what's your name?"

"Call me Krash." He smirks. "Spelled with a K."

"That's not your real name, is it?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, I guess it doesn't." Suddenly I regret telling him my real name. You could tell a stranger to call you anything at all and they wouldn't even know the difference. It's a power I've had all along, but never even considered before today.

Krash takes something out of the pocket of his black leather jacket: a pack of cigarettes. He takes one out for himself then holds the pack out to me, but I shake my head so he shrugs and puts it back in his jacket. Then, he produces a lighter from his other pocket, wasting no time in lighting the cigarette.

"You shouldn't do that," I say. "They're basically cancer in stick form, you know?"

"Of course I know," he says, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth. I try not to inhale any of it. "But does that really stop anyone?"

"Apparently not," I mumble.

He contemplates me silently as he smokes, like he's trying to figure me out. Figure out what, exactly? I'm not sure, but I do the same. Judging by the worn state of his beanie, the faded jeans who were definitely not pre-ripped at the knees, and his dirty, off-white sneakers with frayed laces, I'd say he either takes real good care of that leather jacket or it's not his.

"Nice jacket," I say.

"Thanks." He flicks the cigarette butt at the ground. "Took it from my dad's old stuff this morning."

So I was right. Outta the way, Sherlock Holmes.

"Hey man, you tryin' to cause a fire?" Another boy jogs up to us, then stomps on the still-smoking cigarette butt.

"Sure. I'm ready to watch the world burn," Krash says, then hops down from the railing to give the guy one of those 'bro hugs'. I don't understand how guys do that. It's always so coordinated even though it's never planned.

"Who's the girl?" The guy asks, pointing at me briefly. He's short next to Krash, at least six inches shorter, but he's still taller than me. My eyes are immediately drawn to his piercings. Eyebrow, nose, lip, you name it.

Before he can answer, I hop down in turn and step forward. "Call me Way." I see Krash out of the corner of my eye look at me inquisitively. I just figured my last name was less boring than 'Eve'.

"Okay, Way, the name's Zero." He sticks out his hand for a fist bump which I return awkwardly. "You skippin' school too?" he asks me.

I nod. "Yeah, screw that place."

"I like this kid already," he tells his friend. "Where'd you find her?"

"She found me," Krash shrugs. "Raven coming?"

"They should be here soon, then we can go," Zero says, then turns to me again, "You coming too?"

"Where are you going?"

"Hangout spot in the woods, not too far."

"Sure. Who's Raven?"

"A friend. You'll like them."

Soon, someone else comes up to us. The first thing I notice about this person is that they're just as short as I am. Also, they've got great hair: short and curly, shaved sides, the colour matching the name, assuming this is Raven.

"I'm here," Raven says breathlessly, "Almost got caught skipping... little siblings," they mumble the last part.

Little siblings. That reminds me of Rosa and Micah, but I have to push the thought of them away before I break down in front of these people and ruin any chance I have at making friends.

"Who are you?" they ask, turning to me.

"Um... Way." I don't feel as confident anymore. Raven has these piercing blue eyes and the way they're eyeing me makes me feel like they can see directly into my soul.

"Way? Like G— like the last name?"

I nod. I'm almost positive it was going to be, "Like Gerard Way?" They're wearing a My Chemical Romance T-shirt under an army green jacket, but must've assumed I wouldn't know him, or something. If only they knew...

"Cool. Nice to meet you. I'm Raven."

The three lead the way, taking a path I've never gone down before. Then they leave the path and go directly into the woods. I've definitely never gone this way before.

"Do you guys come in here a lot?" I ask, attempting to start a conversation.

"Yeah. It's our main hangout spot," Krash says.

"So you skip school a lot?"

"Do you always ask so many questions?" Zero asks.

"Zee!" Raven exclaims.

"I'm just kidding!" he says, raising his hands defensively, then looks at me. "We kinda decided, "Hey, fuck school" as soon as we started high school... so, yeah."

"How 'bout you, Way?" Raven asks me. I mumble something about it being my first time skipping. "Oh, we'll make sure it's worth it."

We get to our destination in the woods: A little cabin-looking thing. It's painted white, but the paint is chipping, and there's one small window. The door creaks loudly as Krash opens it and lets us in. Inside, there are a few beanbag chairs sitting in a circle around a low, wooden table. There's an ashtray on the table, a couple lighters, and a bunch of candles. I also notice a cooler sitting in the corner of the room.

We each take a seat in one of the beanbag chairs. I'm not sure what I've gotten myself into, but I can only hope it'll be better than going to school or staying at home and being depressed all day.