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

I'm Sorry (58)

I sit awkwardly with one leg crossed over the other, in the exact same spot I sat when I first got here, with Ms. Diaz in the exact same spot as well. It's like déjà vue, only this time I've been here for about six weeks. Truthfully, I forgot that was even a thing she was supposed to do.

She has been asking me question after question, and I've been answering with short answers, eager to get this interrogation over with. Laura is in another room to ensure I'm a hundred percent honest. Questions about how I've been treated, how Laura acts around me, if I feel safe here, if I've witnessed any substance abuse. Then there are the less heavy questions like if school is going well and if I've made any friends.

"Yeah, I have two friends that I hang out with all the time."

"Well, I'm glad to know you've adjusted so well." Diaz smiles. "I think I'm about done here, unless there's anything you want to bring up?"

I feel like I'm in therapy, except Diaz is intimidating whereas my actual therapist is far from it. "Um..." I pretend to think about it for a couple short seconds, quit playing with my sleeves when I realize I'm doing it, then smile back at her. "No, I think that's it. All is well."

She smiles again, which is getting repetitive. She only did it after every question I replied to with a positive answer. It all feels so fake, and I can't believe I'm supposed to believe that this woman actually cares about me. I'm glad to see her car drive off down the street after we've said our goodbyes.

I collapse back in my chair when I'm finally alone, but Laura soon joins me by sitting on the couch. She's quiet for a few moments before asking, "So, how did it go?"

"Fine," I say simply.

It's been almost two weeks since both Emerald and Gerard urged me to apologize to her, and I still haven't worked up the guts to actually do it. When I'm talking to them, I always avoid the subject, and I never really talk to Laura so it's easy to avoid it with her. But every time she does something nice for me, makes me breakfast, picks me up from school, asks me how my day was even though she knows I won't say anything more than "fine," I'm consumed by more and more guilt.

I can tell she's really trying, and yet I continue to reject her. Why? Because I'm stubborn and petty, yes, but also because I'm scared. I'm still scared of her despite the careless image I play up around her, and I'm also scared of opening up in case it goes wrong. I also don't want to start liking her, or worse, getting attached. I'd feel like I'd be betraying Gee and Lindsey.

"Evelyn, are you okay?" Laura asks after a couple more minutes of silence.

I snap out of my thoughts only to realize I've been wringing my hands in my lap, even digging my fingernails into my knuckles. I stuff them in my pockets and stammer, "Yeah, yeah. Fine."

"Is it worth me telling you that you can talk to me if something is really bothering you?"

I hesitate, then shake my head. "I have a therapist for that."

She doesn't even bother saying anything back, and just leans back in her seat and crosses her arms over her chest. She's giving up on getting me to open up, and I feel like a kid who's getting bored of bothering someone because they're not giving me the satisfaction I'm craving by reacting. I wasn't looking for attention, but maybe it was fueling me, and I wasn't looking to be an asshole, but that's what I was coming off as, and I wasn't looking for a high, but now that I'm crashing I feel worse than ever before.

I think if I don't get it over with and say it now, I never will. Just shut your eyes, and spit it out! It'll be over soon. Just picture Gerard and Em and how proud they're gonna be. Just say it, say it, say it, say—