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

We all climbed into the car that I'd left only an hour earlier. Mom sat shotgun while Dad drove, and somehow I'd wound up sitting bitch, wedged between Ray and Ariella in the backseat. This couldn't possibly be any worse for me.

Dad drove up to a somewhat fancy restaurant, and I was suddenly very aware of my appearance. I was dressed in a black tank top with a black corset overtop of it, torn jeans, and black Converse sneakers. My hair was thrown into a messy ponytail, and my dark makeup had to be at least slightly smudged after the long ride to Ariella's house.

Ariella, on the other hand, was dressed in a tan skirt, a pink flowered top, and strappy black sandals. Her hair and makeup were so perfect you might have thought she'd just left the salon. At least Ray wasn't dressed up, making me feel slightly better. He wore jeans and a plain black t-shirt.

I stared at my menu a few minutes later, after we'd been seated by an over-eager hostess. Half of the food was in French, which I had no idea how to translate. I'd taken a few French classes, but had skipped most days, thinking it was a useless language to learn.

Damn my amazing ability to assume the wrong thing.

"Don't they just have burgers here?"

Ray laughed, but Ariella shot me a silencing look.

"Molly, this is a nice restaurant, not some fast food joint. You can't order things like that here."

I sighed. I ended up ordering lasagna, one of the few items I could understand. All of the conversation throughout the meal was focused on Ariella, and a part of me preferred it that way. Nobody was paying any attention to me, so I didn't have to come up with witty responses or, really, even speak at all.

"So, Ray, how do you think Molly will do with you guys this summer?" Mom asked, her voice pleasant.

Damn my ability to not disappear when I have the chance.

"Oh, I think she'll fit in really well."

"Molly? She'll fit in?" Dad sounded astounded. "Exactly what kind of music do you play?"

I sighed again. "You always yell at me to turn it off, Dad. You once told me that music like that was going to drive kids today to start killing people."

Dad turned a dark shade of red, obviously embarrassed.

"But like I've already told you," I continued, unfazed by his embarrassement. "If you just listened you would realize that it's really doing the exact opposite. Ray's band helps people."

"Then maybe it will do you some good to spend time with them," Mom broke in, preventing me from saying anything else.

I stabbed a noodle with my fork and shoved it into my mouth.

"Mom, I think anything will help her, as long as she's not hanging out with that Brooke girl," Ariella muttered.

"Leave her out of this. What did she ever do to you? Why do you treat her like that? Did you ever consider the possibility that she didn't make me the way I am, and maybe I made her the way she is?" I couldn't help but get defensive. Nobody knew what Brooke had done for me.

"The girl spent a summer at a reform camp for juvenile delinquents, Molly. She's a bad person. Let's leave it at that."

I wanted to continue, but the look my mother gave me told me that I had to let it go. I slumped in my chair and began pushing my food around with my fork.

"I would have thought that by now I didn't have to tell you not to play with your food," Dad watched as I spun a noodle around in a circle.

"I'm not playing," I dropped my fork and crossed my arms over my chest.

I could tell that Ray felt out of place, but I didn't say anything. He was eventually going to figure out that we weren't nearly as perfect as Ariella made us seem anyways.

The rest of the meal passed in silence, and we were all relieved to get back to Ariella's apartment. We all said our goodbyes and Mom and Dad left. They had just abandoned me for the entire summer.

The three of us that remained in the apartment were seated on the couch, an awkward silence falling between us. The phone rang, and Ariella jumped up to answer it, leaving Ray and I alone.

"So," Ray said slowly. "This might be a weird thing for me to say, but I think that there's something about this Brooke that your parents don't know."

"You're right."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nope."

Another silence. Ariella laughed from the next room, where she had taken the phone. I stood up and began walking to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Just outside. I'll be right back."

I slipped outside and immediately pulled my cigarettes out of my pocket. Just as I was lighting one, the door opened and Ray stepped out.

Fuck.

"You smoke?"

"I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell Ariella," I took a long drag on the cigarette, and felt slightly better.

"She doesn't know?"

"No, and I don't want her to. She'd just tell my parents and then I'd be in even more shit than I already am."

"How long have you been smoking and managed to keep it a secret?"

"Long enough to be proud that it's still remained a secret."

I finished the cigarette in record time and put it out on the ground, far enough away from her door that it could have been dropped by anyone. Then I started walking.

"Where are you going now?" Ray asked as he fell into step beside me.

"Anywhere that can help me get rid of the smell of smoke on my clothes. Mom and Dad just assumed that I smelled like smoke because of Brooke. Everyone knew that she smoked. But now I'm kind of screwed as far as my cover-up is concerned."

"Once we're on tour, you can use Gerard and Frank as a cover-up. They smoke."

"Thanks for the advice."

"I'm going to go back inside and tell Ariella that you just needed some air. Come back soon, okay?"

"Thanks, I will."

I had a feeling that I would get along with Ray just fine.