Sister, I'm Not Much a Poet but a Criminal

"Please tell me you're joking," Ariella sputtered.

"Umm, yeah. I'm just joking," I nudged her and gave a pitiful laugh.

"Molly, this is serious! You're killing yourself!"

"I'm going to die sometime! Would you prefer I cut myself?"

Her jaw dropped. "Have you?"

"I'm not suicidal, okay? I'm a smoker, that's it. I have been for a long time, too, so it's not Frank or Gerard's fault."

"It's Brooke's."

"It is not!" I shouted defensively.

"Then why did you start?"

"Who the fuck cares? The point is, I do it now. I'll quit someday, okay? I promise."

It was taking all my effort to attempt to keep the peace. Of course, if this fight continued, it was under such ridiculous circumstances that nobody would pick sides. There were really no sides to pick. We were just being stupid, and I knew it. So I was trying to put a stop to it.

"Someday isn't good enough! Molly, you need to quit now!"

"Calm down. I'll be fine, just let me do it on my own terms."

"And what exactly are your terms? You'll quit before you die? Newsflash, you don't know you won't die tomorrow!"

I sighed. "If I were to die tomorrow it would be from something like being hit by a bus, not from smoking. I know the risks, I know the danger, and I know that you disapprove. I'll quit, don't worry."

"I'm calling Mom and Dad. They're going to take you home and make you quit."

She reached for her phone and I panicked. I couldn't go home, not yet. I wasn't ready to leave.

"They didn't know that I smoked at home. What makes you think they'll be able to make me quit?"

She paused. "You've smoked for that long?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I told you it wasn't because of anyone here."

"You promise me you'll quit?"

I held up my right hand. "Scout's honor."

"You weren't in the scouts."

I sighed. "Little sister's honor."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

"Can it wait until after the tour?"

She must have noticed my attempts to calm her down, and she gave in to my plea. "Okay, but as soon as you're home, I expect you to stop."

"I can handle that." Besides, she doesn't live with me. How would she know if I smoked or not?

"Wow, this one's over before it really started," Mikey observed. I nudged him with one of my legs, which were still draped across his lap.

"Hush up, footstool."

He laughed and threw a cushion at me. I caught it and held it up threateningly.

"Let's not start that again," Gerard smirked, stealing the cushion out of my hand.

I gave him a betrayed look as he set the cushion on the chair he had just vacated. He brushed the hair off of his face and sat down, giving me a toothy grin.

It wasn't long before preparations started for that night's concert. As usual, Ariella and I sat backstage and waited for the guys to return.

"You're not dancing," she muttered.

"I'm not as happy as I was that day."

"Why were you so happy?"

I stared at her. Both of us were trying so hard to be friendly that we seemed to cancel each other out. The conversation was strained and hard. Instead of being my usual sarcastic self, I decided to go with the truth. Right now that was the best option as far as I knew.

"Frank told me he loved me."

"And did you say it back?"

"No. Not then, at least. I told him for the first time this morning."

She seemed surprised by my answer. "You sure you mean it this time?"

"Do you mean it when you say it to Ray?"

"Of course."

"Me, too. Nobody's ever made me feel the way he does."

"Well, then I'm happy for you."

I smiled. By the look on her face and the tone of her voice, this was the one thing she'd said all night that I was one hundred percent sure she truly meant.