Monday morning's incident never happened, based on the way Gerard is acting. He doesn't seem bothered at all.

Me? Not so much.

Something clicked in my head when I was standing there in the bathroom, just having yelled at him without a reason. And it wasn't a good kind of click. It was like a switch flipped in my brain, and the remaining hope I had that maybe everything could go back to normal drained out. Whatever "normal" may be.

The truth is, I've accepted the fact that my mother is going to come back into my life, one way or another.

It's infuriating how optimistic everyone around me is that, "There's no way we're gonna lose this fight!" and "You're a Way and that's how it's gonna stay!" I don't care how promising this lawyer is, or how many hours Gerard and Lindsey have already dedicated to making sure we have the most solid case possible

My hope has dissipated along with all my motivation.

Remember how I said I wanted to spend this semester procrastination free? Well, my back is currently against the hard floor of my bedroom, my eyes squeezed shut and headphones covering my ears as my homework taunts me from where it's sitting on my desk.

My phone is buzzing beside me, but I don't bother picking it up.

Numb.

It's the only word I can think to describe the way I'm feeling. The weight on my chest, the heaviness in my heart, the tears that just won't fall because I'm not sad enough to cry. For once, I feel like I could use a good cry, but I'm, well, numb.

The music blaring in my headphones does nothing to distract from this feeling— or lack of feeling. And it certainly does nothing to distract from the thought that seems to be looping in my mind like a mantra:

You just need to feel something.

"Evelyn? Jesus, how loud is your music?"

I pull my headphones off, the faint sound of David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust still audible. "Yeah, Dad?" I look up at his figure, looming over me from where I still lay on the floor.

"Dinner's ready," Gerard says. "I thought you were doing homework, but this doesn't look like homework."

"Oh, I was— uh— taking a break." I stand up off the floor, leaving my headphones and music player behind.

He walks over to my desk, sliding a paper over and trying to read it. "Écrivez une citation—" His pronunciations are way off. "Ah, nope, I give up. This is French. I don't blame you for wanting a break."

"You get it," I say. Only there's really nothing to get because, obviously, I can't have been taking a break if I hadn't even started. "What are we having?" I ask, as we make our way to the dinner table.

As soon as we get downstairs, I breathe in heavenly scent of whatever just came out of the oven. Lindsey answers for him. "I made lasagna." She smiles, holding out the pan proudly.

"That looks really good!" I comment, and the smile on her face grows even prouder.

When we've all taken our seats at the table and began eating, the regular dinner-time conversations begin.

"So, how was school?" Gee asks.

I shrug. "It was okay."

"Same as always?" he guesses.

"No, actually, Em didn't sit with me at lunch today," I say casually, grabbing the water pitcher and filling my glass.

"Why not?" Lindsey asks, knitting her eyebrows in concern.

"She was tutoring some seventh grader during the break," I explain. "So I sat alone cause, you know... I have no other friends."

"You know, Eve, you could always try and make new friends?" Gee suggests for what feels like the billionth time. "It could be good for you. And Emerald, too."

I shake my head. "No, you already know no one wants to be friends with me."

"I don't understand why, though," he says even though we've already gone over this. I have a feeling we're about to go over it again. He goes on, "You're a great kid."

"I'm gay, for starters. A lot of people don't like that." I notice a flash of anger cross his face so I move on from that point quickly. Not anger toward me, but anger toward anyone who's ever been unaccepting of me. "Plus, people remember all the hospital stuff so they think I'm crazy. And the only people who have actually tried to get close to me are because they think I'm famous like you, or whatever, or they wanna be friends with Emerald, not me. They leave when they realize I'm part of the deal."

Somehow, your dad calling you a "great kid", doesn't erase those kinds of things. And no matter how often I think it over in my head, saying it all out loud still adds extra weight to what's already on my chest, already making it hard for me to breathe easy. Hard for me to sleep at night, and get out of bed in the morning.

"Just keep being yourself, Eve. And someone will come along one day and accept you for who you are, you know?" he says.

"And, hey," Linds adds, "Wasn't Mikey a loner in high school? And he turned out just fine."

I giggle. "Yeah, I know, I'll be fine. As long as I have Em. She's all I need."

After they're done cooing over "young love" and all three of us have finished our meal, I excuse myself from the table and trudge back up to my room. My intent is to shut myself back in there and actually do my homework, but then I spot my phone on the floor where I left it.

Remembering that it buzzed a few times earlier, I pick it up and look at the screen. My eyes are greeted with a text from the girl I happened to have just been talking about.

Emerald: What are we doing on Valentines Day?

It's on Saturday.

That's four days away, you know.

Evelyn: oh I forgot that was a thing

Emerald: I'm taking you somewhere.

Evelyn: um no you payed last time we went for lunch remember

Emerald: Yeah, that was a disaster. It doesn't count.

Evelyn: I feel like perhaps that's not fair

Emerald: Too bad. Be ready at 7PM on Saturday. Look hot.

Oh wait, you already do ;)

Evelyn: that was cheesy

Emerald: You're cheesy.

Evelyn: are you gonna tell me where we're going??

Emerald: Nope. It's a surprise.

Evelyn: fun

The sarcasm in that last text I send before throwing my phone onto my bed is evident. And, if it wasn't, it was to Em. She knows me well enough by now to know that.

She also knows me well enough to know that I'm not really one for surprises, so this better be special.

Well, actually, I have pretty low standards. I remember the first time Gerard took me to the mall. Frank, Mikey, and Ray were there, too. It was an adventure for me and I was so excited to be there as Frank quite literally dragged me into Hot Topic. If a trip to the mall was that special, I'm sure whatever my girlfriend has planned will be extraordinary.

With my phone out of the way and no longer distracting me, I finally pull out my desk chair and take a seat, staring blankly at the notes in front of me for a few too many seconds. Eventually, I zone back in and accept that I just have to get to work or I'll hate myself more than I already do later.

"Écrivez une citation et expliquer pourquoi elle est importante à vous."

Easy enough. All I have to do is look up a quote, write it down, and explain why it's important to me. Now, who do I know that says deep shit all the time and has a fanbase that happens to document every word? So, naturally, I go straight to Google and look up quotes spoken by my own dad.

I realize that my experiences are not universal.

I read out loud, "One day you'll see your life flash before your eyes. Make sure it's worth watching."

Is my life worth watching? Definitely not.

Do I have the motivation to even try and change that? Nope.

Am I still gonna write lines and lines for this project about how and why this quote inspires me and inevitably be spewing hypocritical bullshit the entire time? Absolutely.

Thanks, Dad, for those wise words.

• • •

wow shitty ass chapter sorry

someone tell me what movie they should watch together next