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

Emerlyn (22)

When Emerald and I have let go of our hug, and the lights from Gerard's car have disappeared down the road, Em hands me a thermos.

"Hot chocolate," she explains.

"Thanks." I hold it in my hands gratefully, letting it warm them up. "Did you put marshmallows in it?"

"Of course I put marshmallows in it, I know just how you like it."

The smile on my face grows wider if that's even possible as Em takes one of my hands and leads me past the gates and into the park, out from under the glow of the streetlight. Although it's only just past seven o'clock, the sky is already black. That is, other than the moon peeking out from behind the clouds, illuminating the delicate snowflakes that fall around us.

"How long were you waiting out here for me?" I ask.

"My mom dropped me off barely a minute ago," Em replies and I breathe a sigh of relief. I can see my breath, swirling in the cold night air. "You were right on time."

The path that we walk is lit up on either side by lamps. The memory of the last time I set foot here is reduced to nothing but the fuzzy images of people that are more like bad dreams, though there's still this distant ache in my chest; I miss them. We pass by the patch of woods I ducked through, stumbled through, used as my escape. I wonder if that little cabin is still standing? Or if it still gets visitors?

I chase the thought from my mind. I need to stay in the moment, here, with Emerald.

"What's that you're carrying?"

"Oh!" Em nearly stops in her tracks when I mention the bundle tucked under her other arm. "Well, you see, I got you this fuzzy blanket as a gift, but then I thought maybe you'd want it for tonight cause it's cold so I didn't bother wrapping it and— um— here."

Now I really do stop walking. "Shit! I forgot your gift!" I can picture the package sitting on my desk, the bad wrapping job I did with black wrapping paper I found, and the emerald green bow holding it all together.

Em is the kind of person that when you ask her what she wants for a gift, her immediate response is, "I don't know, I'm not picky." Or something along those lines. In other words, she's impossible to buy gifts for, especially for someone like me, who is terrible at gift giving. So, what I ended up doing was getting her a little bit of everything. That box is stuffed with candles, candy and chocolate, pens, chokers, nail polish, and even a glittery bath bomb, among other things.

And I can't believe I forgot it. "I was too busy worrying about—" I cut myself off abruptly.

"What were you worrying about?" Em asks, her voice laced with concern. She looks me in the eyes.

"Um, it was just— it was nothing. Come on, let's go find somewhere to sit." I grab her hand again and we set off deeper into the park until we reach a bench near the centre. It's facing a water fountain that's frozen over.

We brush the dusting of snow off the bench and sit next to each other, as closely as possible, wrapped up in my new blanket. The pattern on it looks to be a black and white geometric design. Our fingers still intertwined, I feel Em rest her head on my shoulder and if I turn my head a little her hair tickles my face, and I can breathe in her comforting scent. "Really, Evie, what were you worrying about?" she asks again.

I sigh. "When you texted me, and you said change of plans I just thought you were cancelling on me last minute. I thought you were leaving me. I thought you'd changed your mind about liking me and- and finally abandoned me like—"

"I would never."

Despite her attempt at reassurance, my heart drops. "But it's happened before. People have left me before." I fight to keep my voice from breaking.

"But I won't," she says sternly.

"How can I be sure?" I ask quietly. So quietly, in fact, that I'm surprised when she sits up and grabs my face in her hands. They feel warm on my skin, chilled by the cold winter air.

Her face is close enough to mine that I can see the shapes of the snowflakes caught in her hair when she says, "Because, Evelyn Maia Way, I don't think I'd be alive without you."

"But—"

"No. You helped pull me out of a really dark place after my dad left, remember? How you never went to sleep without making sure I was okay first? And how you always let me come over, even on your family movies nights, when it was hard to be at home? You always told me exactly what I needed to hear, even when everything felt hopeless." A couple tears slip down her face but she doesn't stop to wipe them away. "That's why. Because, however much you think you need me, I need you too, okay? I love you."

This. This is the moment that I wanted our first "I love yous" to be, under the gentle snowfall as our lips collide and our tears mix together, and time slows down.

"I love you, too," I mumble through the kiss.

I tangle my fingers in her hair, deepening the kiss, and the little space that was left between us shrinks to none along with our care for the world around us.

Em places a hand on my chest and pushes my back flat onto the bench, the clatter of our hot chocolates falling off and onto the ground makes me wince. I guess she brought them for nothing. Neither of us pay attention to that, though, our legs tangled under this blanket, the heat from our bodies pressed together.

"Wait—" Em suddenly pushes herself back up, her breath hot on my face. "I have an idea."

"What?" I pant. She untangles herself from the blanket and stands up off the bench. I feel her coat brush my fingers as I reach my arm out toward her. "Come back, I'm cold now," I whine.

She ignores me, her footsteps crunching in the snow, leaving prints behind. She crouches down in the middle of the path. "Shine your phone light over here, Eve," she says.

I obey, but all that the light illuminates is her digging in the snow with her bare hands.

"What the fuck are you doing and aren't your hands freezing!?" I ask, or yell in confusion and alarm, sitting upright.

"You'll see if you can hold on a sec, and yes, very freezing!" Then, she picks up something from the ground and holds it up in triumph. "Perfect!"

"Dude, it's a fuckin' rock."

"That's right, but it's a perfect rock for..." She comes back over and kneels on the seat next to me. Bringing the pointy rock up the wooden bench, she begins carving letters into one of the back boards.

"Oh," I breathe, realizing what she's doing. I whisper, "This is so cliche."

"Yeah," she whispers back, knitting her eyebrows as she squints at the wood until I shine my light on it. "But you love it."

And she's right, I do. And I know that I have no way of telling what's going to happen in the future, of knowing where we'll be even a few months from now. Even though we're just two teenagers on a Valentine's Day date, carving our young love for each other into a piece of wood, like so many couples before us, this somehow feels like confirmation. Like it's on record: Em and I are forever. We need each other and that's how it'll always be.

When she's done, the newest carving on the bench reads: Emerlyn. A jagged heart surrounds the word. I run my fingers over the imperfect letters.

"Emerlyn... didn't want to be basic and write Em plus Eve equals love or something?"

"Hell no," Em giggles. "And this way people might come along and think that one lonely person named Emerlyn carved their name into this bench."

"Good point, Love, now can I kiss you again?"

The events from earlier in the night are forgotten. Dissipate as soon as our lips touch. My meltdown over a simple text message that Gerard had to pull me out of, all the tears and worries that came with it, and any fears that Emerald is ever going to leave me. Gone.

This moment is perfect.