Another Way | Adopted by Gerard Way (Book Three)

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Harley somehow erased her sickly face and dishevelled hair in front of the bathroom mirror, working magic she didn't know she had. She'd never put so much thought into her appearance before, not even on her first date with Mason when she had Lindsey help her out. This was different. She didn't have Lindsey to help her out. She briefly considered sharing her dilemma in the group chat out of desperation, but she didn't want to include them in her scheme, even though she was pretty sure Andy would have some opinions on her outfit options.

Everything she tried on didn't feel right. It didn't feel like her. The only things that felt like her were oversized T-shirts, baggy jeans, sweatpants, hoodies. Items that concealed her frame and turned the shape of her body into a well-kept secret only she could uncover when she accidentally looked down in the shower.

Eventually, she landed on a somewhat bland outfit that wouldn't draw too much attention from unwanted bystanders. She intended on blending into the crowd at the party and enjoying the music, atmosphere, and whatever tangents Mason decided to go on. She wore the only pair of jeans that didn't hang loosely around her legs—she wasn't even sure why she'd packed them in the first place—and a Nirvana T-shirt. She figured it was a casual enough affair that she could wear her black cap, so she put it on backwards.

She topped the outfit off with the black heart-locket necklace she'd found in Evelyn's old things.

Finally, she snuck out of the bathroom and back into her room without being seen by Gerard or Lindsey and began pacing, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She was flip-flopping between doubting her ability to pull this off and sheer confidence like nothing she'd ever felt before.

Then, right on schedule, she got a text from Mason.

I'm here.

Gerard and Lindsey were in the living room, curled up on the couch together and watching something on TV, so Harley snuck down the stairs and chose the downstairs bathroom window.

She stood in the bathroom doorway with the lights turned off because they'd be a dead giveaway. The window was small and high up above the bathtub; she'd have to stand on the porcelain edge to get it open and then climb out. It looked as though it had never been opened, but it didn't have a screen and that was the most important part. Balancing on the edge of the tub, she gripped the bottom of the window and pushed up.

It stuck.

"Nice T-shirt," Mason complimented as Harley climbed into the passenger seat.

"Thanks," she said, looking down at the Nirvana logo. "You're not gonna ask me to name five songs, are you?" She shut the car door and buckled her seatbelt.

"That depends," Mason retorted, "Can you?"

"Of course, I can. Can you?"

"Of course."

"Good."

"Good." Mason started the car. The headlights turned on and illuminated the road ahead, moths fluttered in the beams of light. The music turned on automatically—predictably, he'd been listening to Oasis—but he muted it as he pulled into the road. There were no other cars in sight. "So, how did climbing through the window go?" he asked.

"It wouldn't open so I just walked through the front door."

"Harley!" Mason exclaimed.