Another Way | Adopted by Gerard Way (Book Three)

21

"I'm not feeling down, Gee, I'm literally just tired. I told you that." Harley leaned her head on the car window as Gerard drove back towards home after the hike with the Ieros, profusely insisting that everything was fine because Gerard didn't seem to want to drop it.

Everything was fine. That much was true up until Miles said something about it being too hot out and, "Wouldn't it be more fun to be at the beach and get to cool down in the ocean instead of sweating balls on a stupid hike?" That was when everyone decided, apart from Harley who sat silently, that they should go to the beach. She wanted to bang her head on the picnic table when that conclusion was reached. But instead, she continued to eat her salad like she hadn't even been paying attention.

Harley didn't like the beach. She didn't like the way sand stuck to everything and never seemed to wash away, she didn't like coming home with inevitably burnt skin no matter how much sunscreen she applied, and—most of all—she didn't like wearing a swimsuit.

Swimsuits always highlighted the parts of her body she tried her best to hide with her oversized clothing. Showing up to the beach with a large T-shirt and baggy jeans wasn't socially acceptable, though, so she always ended up having to swallow her discomfort and put on a brave face along with her bikini.

"Okay, okay, but I just want you to know—hypothetically speaking—if you were feeling down about anything at all, you can talk to me about it. I never want you to feel like—"

"I know, Gee, okay?" Harley snapped, her head whipping around to finally look at his side profile as he concentrated on the road, "You've said it a million times, but I'm telling you, everything is fine."

Gerard pursed his lips and the two fell into a tense silence without even the radio to fill it and lighten the mood. Beside him, Harley's stomach sunk. She wanted to take it back, but she bit her lip and refocused her gaze out the passenger side window. The trees that flew by in green blurs became fewer and farther between as they left the heavily wooded area and got closer to home. The ambient sound of the tires rolling on the asphalt filled her head as she leaned it on the glass, hoping it would drown out the feeling of guilt chipping away at her insides.

She wished she could explain to Gerard what was tormenting her, but she couldn't; she lacked the words to even explain it to herself.

Why was it that she only ever felt comfortable in clothes three sizes too big that turned her figure into a guessing game? Why did she get a pulsating urge to tear her hair from her scalp if she wasn't wearing her hat, continuously tucking stubborn loose strands up into it? What about that awful skin-crawling sensation whenever she let her hair frame her soft jawline? And why did she avoid the mirror like the plague when she got out of the shower?

She couldn't explain it.

Gerard began tapping his fingers on the steering wheel anxiously, causing Harley to look up at him again. The look on his face clearly displayed the fact that he wanted to say something.

"What?" Harley asked him, less sharpness in her tone than before.

"Are, uh, are you excited to go to the beach? That was a pretty good idea Miles had, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, he's just full of great ideas," Harley said, fighting the sarcasm that was threatening to seep into her voice.

"Yeah, I think it'll be nice, especially if everyone comes. Like, Mikey and Kristin and the kids will definitely be down for it... It'll be great. We've gotta do as much fun stuff like that as possible while you're over here, you know?"

Harley tried her best to match Gerard's enthusiasm, but his emotion was so genuine it was in vain. She thought it best to say nothing at all aside from a weak, "Yeah," in response as she picked at the Velcro on her wrist splint distractedly, not wanting to cast a shadow on his excitement. She'd have to repress her feelings and sit with them simmering just below the surface until the day she died.