~~

I was wearing my favorite pastel pink sweater with a black skirt, black tights, and black boots. I had an old black backpack on my back that my dad said was only temporary until we could go out and I could pick out my own.

"Come on, Gee, let's go," Mikey said.

I grabbed Dee and opened the door, looking at Mikey in front of me.

"Oh, Gee, you can't bring her with you to school," Mikey muttered.

"B-but my Mama gave her to me," I said, hugging her.

"Gee--"

"Pwease?" I begged.

He sighed and nodded his head.

"Yeah, okay, fine," he said. "Let's go."

The two of us drove to school together. I still was scared a little by the car, it was so weird and loud. I walked into the big building nervously, holding onto Mikey's hand. Whenever I got scared, I always held onto my Mama's hand. This wasn't the actual beginning of the day, they let us come in two hours late.

"This way," Mikey said, leading me towards an office.

He talked to the lady at the desk.

"The principal is on a phone call right now, she'll be out in a moment," he said.

We sat down and I looked around nervously.

"Do they give these tests to all the new students?" I asked.

"No, you're just a special situation," Mikey said.

The burst open and i jumped in fright.

"Oh, Miss, I feel sick, I think I'm gonna faint," some boy said dramatically.

"Sit down, Mr. Iero," the lady at the desk said without even looking up.

The boy snickered as he sat down in the chair behind me. I stared at him, more specifically his arms. They were covered in markers. I frowned, running my finger over his arm and he jerked away in shock.

"What ya doing there, buddy?" He asked.

"Your arm is dirty," I said.

"It's not dirty," he denied. "It's called a tattoo."

"A what?" I asked, my head tilting to the side.

"Are you fucking serious?" He replied, his eyebrows raising.

I stared at him.

"Wow," he breathed, glancing at Dee. "Why do you have a stuffed toy?"

"Her name is Dee," I said. "You should really clean your arm, it's all dirty."

"Gee," Mikey whispered.

I hugged Dee, holding tighter onto Mikey's hand. A lady walked out and I stared at her. We followed the lady back into an office with a big brown desk in it. Mikey and I sat across from her while she sat in a big office chair.

"Hello, Gee," she greeted. "I'm Mrs. Washington, your new principal. I know things might be a little scary right now but I'm sure you'll fit right in."

I looked over at Mikey, hugging Dee closer fearfully.

"We're gonna take you into the other room and Mr. McDonald is gonna ask you a few questions," she said.

I nodded my head, and she pointed to a door. I started for the door, waiting for Mikey to follow but he never did.

"You have to go in alone this time, Gee," Mikey said and I whimpered. "I'll be right out here when you come back."

I opened the door and stepped in, seeing a man sitting at a table with some papers and books. I sat across from him anxiously.

"Hi there, Gee, I'm just gonna have you take a quick test," he said. "Now, tell me, can you name all the presidents?"

I shook my head.

"Any of the presidents?" He asked.

"U-uh, there's, um, Washington and, um, K-Kendall?" I answered.

"Kennedy?" He guessed.

I nodded my head, looking down at my lap in embarrassment. He asked some more questions, most of which I didn't know the answers to. Then we moved to science, and I seemed to know even less. Finally to English and I thought I did okay. Math was again not very good. We left again and I frowned as I went back out to where Mikey was.

"How'd it go?" He whispered.

I could feel my eyes watering as I shook my head. Mr. McDonald stepped out with a piece of paper. He talked with the principal but it was loud enough for us to hear.

"Well, his math, history, and science skills are all minimal at best," he said. "However, he does have a middle school reading level. But his writing isn't good, spelling and grammar and all that."

I could feel my eyes filling with tears. I'm so stupid. Mikey held onto my hand as I sniffled.

"Okay, bring that paper to Susanne and she'll schedule his classes," Mrs. Washington said but then turned to me. "Sweetheart, you have two free hours, what classes would you like to take?"

"One with Mikey in it," I said.

"I don't think that's possible, sweetheart," Mrs. Washington said. "We have lots of art classes, journalism, cooking--"

"I like to draw and cook," I said.

"Put him down with the drawing I and food science classes," she said to Mr. McDonald.

He stepped out and she smiled at us.

"I'm going to make a call to your father," she said. "You two can wait outside if you'd like. Ask the receptionist for a donut, one of the teachers brought them in and we have extras."

We walked out and I sniffled, vision blurring with tears.

"Frank, you are not sick and you cannot leave," the lady denied.

"Are you sure?" The dirty boy asked. "I think I might have Ebola. I should go home, don't wanna spread the Ebola."

I wiped my eyes as we walked up to the desk and Frank stepped aside.

"We were told we could have some of the donuts," Mikey said.

"Oh sure, what kind?" She asked, picking up a box with ring shaped things.

"Wh-what's a donut?" I asked.

"Can I have one?" Frank asked.

"Go to class, Mr. Iero," she denied.

"A donut is sort of like bread but it tastes sweeter," Mikey said.

I scrunched my nose up in confusion.

"I want the chocolate," Mikey picked and she put it on a napkin and handed it to him.

I looked at the many different rings in interest. I saw the pretty one and pointed to it. The lady handed me the donut with the pink frosting and sprinkles on it. I like the color pink.

"You know, I heard the only cure for Ebola is a donut," Frank said.

"If I give you a donut will you go back to class?" She asked.

He nodded and reached into a box to grabbed a chocolate covered donut.

"Well, surely I can't bring the donut out there, everyone would see it and want to come in for their own donut, better wait in here to finish it," Frank said.

"Jesus," the lady muttered, shaking her head as she set the box down.

I sat down and Mikey sat beside me. I took a bite and smiled, feeling happier.

"Oh, I like this," I said.

Frank sat in the seat beside me, the only other seat in the room.

"Why'd you write on your arms with marker?" I asked.

"I've told you, it's a tattoo," he said, taking a big bite of his donut.

Wow, even his fingers were dirty. There was writing across his fingers with marker but I didn't know what it said.

"Hi, I'm Gee," I said.

"Frank," he replied, holding his fist up.

I stared at him and he raised an eyebrow.

"Still need to work on your social skills," Mikey muttered.

"It's called a fist bump, dude," Frank told me. "So, you know, we bump fists."

I bumped my fist with his and frowned in confusion. "Why do people do that?"

"I don't know," Frank said. "Just...politeness, I guess. That's a good question."

There was a beeping sound and he pulled a black device out of his pocket. He pressed a button and it lit up and my eyes widened and I leaned closer.

"What is that?" I asked in amazement.

Frank stared at me. "It's a cell phone."

"What's a cell phone?" I asked.

He looked passed me to Mikey, who shrugged in response.

"Jesus," frank muttered, looking back down at his 'cell phone'.

He tapped his dirty thumbs against it and i watched as little words appeared. He pressed a blue arrow button and the words moved up into a blue bubble.

"Whoa, can i try?" I asked.

"Gee, you can use my phone," Mikey offered.

"But I wanna use Frank's," I said.

"He has the exact same phone as me," Mikey said, pulling out his own cell phone.

"Does everyone have one?" I asked.

"Not everyone but most," Mikey said.

"How does it work?" I asked.

"I'll explain that to you later," Mikey said.

"What can you do on it?" I asked.

"Make calls, text, play games, use the Internet," Mikey listed.

"The internet?" I asked.

"What the hell, were you raised in a dungeon or something?" Frank asked.

"No, I was raised in a house underground," I said.

Frank looked at me in interest. "A what?"

"Gee, just eat your donut," Mikey said.

"I think I'd like to hear more about this underground house," Frank said.

"Well--"

"Gerard," Mikey scolded.

I whimpered, my eyes filling with tears. Mama would never raise her voice at me.

I ate my donut silently, sniffling sadly. Mikey rubbed my back and finished his donut.

"Here, Gee," Frank said, holding out his phone.

I gasped, setting my donut down as I held it in my hand gently. It was light and the screen was bright. I tapped on it, watching the letter appear in the bar above it. I tapped random letters then pressed the spacebar. When I did that, the random letters turn into another word.

"Whoa," I mumbled.

"That's called autocorrect," Frank said.

I pressed the arrow and the word moved up into a blue bubble. I did again and again. There was a buzz and suddenly there was a grey bubble on the other side of the screen that said 'dude wtf' in it.

"What does W-T-F mean?" I asked.

"It means what the fuck," Frank said.

"Do you have to teach him that stuff?" Mikey grumbled.

"Can I see this for a second?" Frank asked.

His thumbs moved quickly on the keyboard and I watched in amazement. The words moved to a blue bubble as I read what it said.

Frank: sorry, someone's using my phone

"What is this?" I asked.

"It's called texting," Frank said.

Another grey bubble appeared and Frank snickered.

"What's the other bubble?" I asked.

"That's what my friend is saying," Frank said and I looked at him in confusion. "Whatever you type in here and press the arrow, it gets sent to his phone. So he can type things on his phone and it'll get sent to me."

I gawked, staring at the little device in his hands.

"Mikey can I have a cell phone?" I asked.

"You have to ask our dad," Mikey said.

"You two are brothers?" Frank asked.

I nodded my head.

"Gerard, who are you even gonna text?" Mikey asked.

"I can text you and I can text Frank and I can text Mama," I said.

"No, you can't text your mom," Mikey denied.

"Do they let her have a cell phone in prison?" I asked.

"Whoa, your mom's in prison?" Frank asked. "For what?"

"Enough, Gerard, eat your donut," Mikey said.

I frowned, taking another bite. I finished the donut while Frank continued texting on his phone and I watched him in interest.

"Gerard, we have your schedule," Mr. McDonald said. "You're gonna be with me for your first four hours and I'll help you with your basic core classes, after that you'll have your food science then art."

I nodded my head, hugging Dee.

"Come on, Gee, let's go," he said.

I stood up, following him out as I looked back at Mikey nervously.