Given Our History: A Novel

by Kristyn J. Miller

Her crimson-tinted mouth drops open. “Dude. I’m so jealous. I was like, five. I wasn’t even born when The Black Parade came out.” Great. On top of everything else, I’ve now been made aware that the infamous opening G note—the calling card of all former emo kids—is officially old enough to buy itself a pack of cigarettes.

“I didn’t remember him being so good-looking. A couple of the girls in class already nicknamed him ‘Professor Hottison.’”