A Way Back Home | Adopted by Gerard Way (Book Two)

No, I'll Never Talk About It (26)

I tap my pen subconsciously on my paper, waiting for the class to end. Charlotte, writing furiously in her notebook, sits in front of me and I frequently get lost staring at her blond curls. They're distracting, okay?

"Alright class, that's all for today, the bell's about to ring! Just get those questions done for tomorrow!" The teacher finally calls out, clapping his hands together. Then, to my surprise, he locks eyes with me. "Ms. Way, I'd like you to stay back a couple minutes, unless you have a bus to catch."

"Um, alright," I say awkwardly.

Charlotte whips around to look at me, her hair flying over her shoulder. "I wonder what that's about. Are you in trouble, Evelyn?"

I don't have the energy to give her a sassy remark back, so I just say, "I didn't do anything." Then I stuff my math notes into my bag.

She laughs shortly, then, with a smirk on her perfectly red-painted lips, declares, "It's a shame your girlfriend isn't here to save you." The bell rings as soon as the words leave her mouth and in the blink of an eye she's already pushed her way out of the classroom along with everyone else.

I sling my bag over my shoulder and take slow steps towards Mr. Philip's desk. He looks up from some papers he's grading as I approach.

"What did you want to talk about?" I ask innocently.

"We have to do something about your grades," he states bluntly. "I know you can do better than this."

"Sir, math has never been my strongest suit."

"Evelyn," he says, standing up from his chair. "You were one of the top in my class just a couple months ago, what happened?"

He looks me in the eye intently, enough that I lower my gaze to the floor. Mr. Philip is a young guy, early thirties, maybe. He's got neat, black hair and trusting blue eyes and I feel bad that I can't bring myself to look into them as I mumble, "I don't know, Sir, it's just been hard."

"What was that?"

"At home. It's been hard at home." I tug on my sleeves nervously.

Silence falls over the room, although it's only the two of us and it was already pretty quiet. I already regret the words I've spoken, but it's too late. They've left my mouth and there's no real way to take them back, which is why I should really just never say anything at all.

"And you haven't been able to complete homework or study because of that?" Mr. Philip asks skeptically.

I nod hesitantly just as my phone buzzes from inside my pocket. I take it out quickly and glance at the screen and, before my teacher can keep me here any longer, I say apologetically, "My dad's outside, I don't want to keep him waiting. I have to go."

Then I dash out of the classroom.

There is no snow left on the ground outside, for which I'm glad, but I still turn the seat warmer on in the car. "Sorry, my teacher just wanted to talk to me before I left." I tell Gerard as I buckle up.

He leaves the now mostly empty school parking lot and heads in the direction of Sam's office. "Don't worry about it," he says. "What did they want to talk about?"

"Um, well—" I sigh. "Dad, I suck at math."

Gee kind of laughs. "Me too, Kiddo. I wish I could help you out with that."

"The obvious solution here would be to just drop out of school."

"Nah, Eve, you can't give up like that."

"I'm obviously joking," I mutter under my breath. He doesn't hear me, so of course that's his cue to launch into one of his inspirational speeches. I truly wonder how many of these I've heard at this point, and why Gerard doesn't just go ahead and do a TED Talk.