Alcohol. They had alcohol in that cooler in the corner of the room. I've never even had a sip, but I know what it does to people. I've seen it with my own eyes, and nothing good has ever happened.

I was shaking in my beanbag chair, and Krash told me it'd warm me up. Raven told him to leave me alone. So, he did, for which I am grateful because I have trouble saying no to people. I was never allowed to say no. One rule I always had to abide by, without fail, was, "Do what you're told without question." Ever since I can remember, that was the rule.

When my mother needed me to hide away in my room and play and not come out for hours because she was "busy". When Mr. Johnson, my first foster parent, needed me to go get him another beer, or make him food. When the social workers came to check in at Mr. Brown's house (my second foster parent) and he told me to smile and nod and tell them I was "so happy to be living with him, he was so generous, he'd never done any harm to me," I did what I was told.

Gerard has never said it before. Needless to say, he's never had to say it before.

They had a lot of snacks in that cooler, too, which I politely declined. Things like Oreos, Cheetos, and gummy bears, among others. Things that, for the most part, I can't remember the last time I ate them.

"More for us." Zero shrugged.

"Why are you keeping that stuff in a cooler?" I asked, gesturing at the packets of snacks. "They... how should I say this? Don't need to be cooled."

He shrugged again. "You see a better place to keep 'em?"

I didn't.

He, Krash, and even Raven each lit a cigarette. No one bothered to offer me one, not that I'd take it this time, either. They knew better. You could take one look at me and bet the most rebellious thing I'd ever done was not read the terms and conditions before accepting.

I gave up on trying not to breathe in the smoke, though. I didn't have a choice if I wanted to stay in this tiny room with the three strangers, and for some reason I did. They were interesting. They weren't like any other people I'd ever hung around with before, and certainly not like the kids I knew at my school.

"So," Zero started at some point, "Technically speaking, can't a fetus be considered a parasite?"

Raven and Krash both rolled their eyes. They were obviously used to Zero asking such random, irrelevant questions out of the blue like that.

"No, really!" He went on, "Cause it, like, sucks up nutrients from its host!"

"I see where you're coming from, but I'm not so sure that's how it works," I said.

"Sure it is, Way." He grinned. "I paid attention in biology class."

"Bullshit!" Krash exclaimed. "You fell asleep in almost every one of those classes."

"Not almost every one," Raven said. "Every. Single. One."

It didn't take long for me to come to the conclusion that Zero was the funny one, going through that, "I'm so random!" phase, as teenage boys do. He was probably once considered the Class Clown. Krash, on the other hand, was more honest and serious (but not too serious). Raven seemed to be the one that kept them both in line.

They talked and laughed together in a way that made it obvious they'd been friends for a long time, but somehow I didn't feel out of place. I actually joined in on the rest of the conversations and enjoyed myself. I forgot about Emerald, about the Millers, and even about Gerard. Only for a little while.

I even ignored my phone, buzzing frequently in my pocket.

But maybe I shouldn't have.

Now, I enter the house as quietly as possible. I made sure I'd arrive at the same time I usually would after school, after assuring the gang that I'd come back to The Box tomorrow. That's what they call the hangout spot, The Box.

I even make it up to my room before Gerard notices I'm back.

"Eve, is that you?" he calls.

I can't tell by his voice if he's mad so I brace myself for the worst when I call out a hesitant "yeah" in reply.

"Evelyn Maia Way, what the fuck!?" He barges into my room and pulls me into a hug, which I wasn't expecting because "what the fuck" aren't words you typically hear when receiving a hug.

"Gerard Arthur Way, what are you going on about!?"

He ends the hug, but keeps his hands on my shoulders. It seems like he's restraining himself from shaking me as he exclaims, "Me? Eve, I got up and you were just gone! Are- are you okay?"

Time to lie.

"I'm fine, Gee, I just got up early and walked to school."

"Okay," he breathes, letting go of my shoulders. "Okay, you're fine, good. Weren't you cold walking to school?"

I shrug, "It wasn't too bad."

"Okay, so, why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I left it in my locker."

"Well, don't do that. I was worried. And don't ever leave like that again without telling me, Eve, I was ready to go out looking for you."

"Sorry." I look down at my feet, actually feeling guilty. "I won't do it again."

"You better not," he says, pulling me into another hug. Then he breathes in and says something that just about makes my heart stop. "Eve, why do you smell like smoke?"

"W-what?"

He lets go again and takes a step back. "You smell like cigarette smoke."

"Do I?" I wrack my brain, trying to think of an excuse, then before he can say anything else I manage, "Oh, yeah. I walked through a group of people smoking on my way back."

He eyes me suspiciously, but only for a second, before saying, "Oh."

I just nod. I'm impressed by how quickly I came up with that one. Now I don't know what to say anymore. This is a big lie, probably the biggest I've ever told. I've just dug myself in a hole there's no getting out of and it'd be all too easy to misspeak and have everything come crashing down.

"So," Gerard speaks up again, "How about I go make supper and then we can eat and hang out?"

"Okay," I say, even though what I really want to say is, "Hell no, I'm gonna hide in my room for hours and listen to music while I wallow in self-hatred."

I'd never say any of that out loud, though. So half an hour later, after I've changed into a hoodie that smells only of clean laundry, I'm in the living room, Gerard and I sitting at opposite ends of the couch. I have a bowl of spaghetti which I'm not really eating, just twirling the noodles around on my fork to make the perfect-looking bite, then drop it back in my bowl and start again.

The TV is on, but the volume is low and neither of us are paying attention. Still, Gerard mutes it before he asks, "How are you?"

"Um, fine, I guess?" I reply without looking up.

"No, really. You've been with me for about five months now, you know?"

"Five months?" It seems longer. I could almost make myself believe that I've been here my whole life, like everything before these five months didn't even happen. Of course, it did, but I'd like to think it was just some horrible long-winded nightmare.

"Yeah." He nods. "Eve, are you happy?"

That's when I finally look up. "Am I happy? I mean, you took me in and made my life a thousand times better, so why wouldn't I be?" Way to avoid answering the question. "Um, why do you ask?"

"I just want you to be happy. I wanna know how you're feeling, what's going through your mind. You know, you can tell me anything. Don't ever be afraid to tell me anything."

"I know, Gee," I say quietly, then look back down at my uneaten pasta. "There is something I think I need to tell you, actually."

"Okay, go ahead, Eve," he says, shifting so he's directly facing me.

I take a deep breath, "This spaghetti is kinda over cooked."

The serious look on his face vanishes as he sighs. "I know, I know." I notice that his bowl is barely touched. "Not my best work. How about we just order something instead? Chinese?"

I don't know what prompts me to do this, but I say, "Okay, sure."