Adrenaline Sisters// fall out boy & my chemical romance

Chapter 33: I'm Just Asking to Leave

|| First Person || Bomb Sunshine ||

We all managed to stay alive and, more or less, in one piece as a month went by. Some days, we stayed at the studio; some days were spent in the deserts. The only thing that seems to snap me out of my daze of reflection of the month is Patrick tugging me up to my feet. The blonde boy bears a wide smile as he laughs a little.

"Bomb, come on," he pleads. "Party will beat both of our asses if you don't hurry up!"
"Sorry," I chuckle as I stand to my feet. Patrick takes the momentum to hold me close, colliding his lips with mine. I push him away with a playful glare.

"I'm not sure if you just found a reason to make me stand up or if Party really does need me," I smirk. Patrick releases me from his warm embrace as he is in tow of me on the way to meet the redheaded killjoy.
"He really does want to see you, though," Patrick tries to justify. I spot Gerard outside as he makes conversation with Ray and Frank.

"Oh, yeah!" I recognize Kobra call out from behind me. "Party wanted to chat with you—"
"Yeah," I cut him short, looking back at him. The bassist sits beside Revolution as she blushes into the leather jacket around her frame. "I got the message."
"Seems like you got it late," Kobra smirks.
"Because someone was busy daydreaming," Patrick teases. He elbows me, earning a small chuckle from me.
"Probably of ways to kill you the next time you act out," I hear Rev mumble. I throw her a glare, resisting the urge to plummet my fist into her leather-clad shoulder. My sister catches my stern look and she gives me a plastic smile in return.

"Lay off, Rev," Mikey laughs, giving the girl a playful shove. Patrick ushers me outside. Gerard spots me and raises his eyebrows the slightest at me.
"Sorry it took so long," Patrick chuckles sheepishly behind me.
"No rush," Party Poison says. "Thanks, though."
"You wanted me?" I inquire, crossing my arms.
"You're seventeen, now," Gerard begins.
"Eighteen," I correct, remembering my birthday had passed already. No one mentioned it, so I left it alone. After seven years of not having a grand celebration over the small milestone, I could easily do without it. The redhead gives me a slanted smile as he tosses me something. I instinctively catch it in midair, soon registering that it's the keys to his Trans Am.

"You're a shitty driver," Frank comments. I can't argue the raven-haired guitarist. Instead, I just give a laugh at his words. "So, we're going to teach you how to not be a shitty driver."
"Maybe I can help?" Patrick asks. We all turn to the former singer. Patrick's pale cheeks burn a shade of red as the corner of his lips curl upward into a hesitant smile. "Like, I can give pointers. I can't do too much with, uh, handwork. Because, well, you know."
"Patrick, you suck at driving too!" Andy chortles. Patrick goes to argue, but he is at a loss for words. He decides to shrink back as his blush deepens.

"Uh, good luck, Bomb," he stammers before running his hand along my arm. I give Patrick a small smile of gratitude before he kisses my cheek and walks away. Andy follows him inside the base of the radio station exclusively for killjoys and young bloods.

"You know the basics, I assume?" Gerard asks me as the four of us enter his Trans Am. I sit behind the steering wheel and shove the key into the ignition.
"Yeah," I say shakily.
"You're not drunk? No sever withdrawals like hallucinations or jittering?" Gerard asks as he claims the passenger seat.
"No," I answer. I turn the key and the vehicle roars to life.
"Alright, so check your rearview mirrors. All three," he instructs. I glance at the rectangular reflectors. "Put the car in reverse. Just hold this button down and move it back."
"Okay," I say, doing as Gerard tells me. I move the gearstick to the bold "R" symbol and return my attention to the mirror in the top center of the windshield.
"Great. Now, gently put your foot on the gas petal," Party says carefully. "It's the petal on your left."