A Not So Sweet Fairytale

Wondering what sort of invisible line I’d crossed, I lugged my suitcase down the two flights of stairs and through the living room, where Billie Joe and Tre` were watching the blaring TV, sitting on the couch. As I was walking past the couch, I tripped on the carpet and fell flat on my face, causing Billie Joe and Tre` to turn around and search for the cause of the noise. I stood and straightened my jeans out and pulled down my t-shirt as Billie Joe laughed and Tre` quietly walked around the couch to pick up my suitcase and look at me questioningly after figuring that the suitcase was filled with everything I could manage to stuff in it.

“I’m leaving… Mike kicked me out,” I answered his unvoiced question and Billie Joe stopped laughing instantly, the smile completely brushed off his face.

“And where are you going to go?” Tre` asked seriously.

I shrugged. “I guess my old place, I mean, I don’t have any money to spend on a hotel room and-”

“You can stay at my place. Remember we’re leaving on tour tomorrow?” He asked in response to my questioning look.

“But-” I started.

“There’s no way you can get to your house before we leave and you can just order in and I’ll give you some money to spend,” Tre` told me, setting down my suitcase once more.

“When will you be back?” I sighed, seeing it was reasonable and it would be impossible to persuade Tre` otherwise at this point.

“In a month or so. Oh, and you should probably get to the doctor to check up on… well you know. Call around and then let me know where and when the appointment is once you make it so I can pay for it,” he told me, careful not to look down at my stomach.

“But how will I get there? I gave Jeffrey my truck, remember?” He smiled mischievously.

“Here. You can borrow my car,” he informed me, dangling his keys from his index finger in my face. “Just promise you won’t total it, alright?” I nodded, still surprised by everything and gently took the keys. If I recalled correctly, he had a nice Corvette waiting for me.

“And I’ll drive you two to Tre`s house so you can fill me in on whatever the hell I’ve missed,” Billie Joe cut in, going around the other side of the couch to stand next to Tre`, who looked at me questioningly and I shrugged, not really caring who knew about what was growing in my stomach anymore.

Tre` insisted on dragging my bag all the way to Billie Joe’s car, which was the second closest to the door, as well as lifting it into the back, with Billie Joe’s help. Once the trunk had been shut with a satisfying thud, Billie Joe took the driver’s seat while Tre` climbed into the passenger’s seat, turning to glance at me as he sat down, but instead bumped his head on the roof of the car.

“Careful,” I muttered, trying to figure out where I had gone so wrong in one morning, managing to have me evicted by my newfound father’s house.

“Try reminding me sooner next time,” Tre` muttered as he massaged his bruising red head.

“Right. Now I want to know what the hell happened to get you kicked out of the house,” Billie Joe demanded, looking straight ahead, as he pulled out of his parking spot and into the massive driveway. I sighed, but only Tre` managed to notice.

“I just think she and Mike are too headstrong to get along, go figure. I mean it’s not like Mike isn’t pigheaded or anything,” Tre` dictated and they both anxiously awaited my response to this obvious ploy to get me to continue the conversation. Although I could tell what they were trying to do, I decided to play along anyways and maybe, just maybe, I would get their support. After all, raising a kid would be a lot easier if they were on my side rather than my father’s side.

“No. He is pig headed. He can’t deal with people not telling him stuff right off the bat,” I muttered.

“Yeah, I know that real well,” Billie Joe smiled, reminiscing. “But what did you leave out when you talked to him the first time?” He continued a few distracted moments later.

“The fact that I’m pregnant with a child whose father is a rapist,” I muttered, although the effect was as if I’d just pulled the trigger of a loaded gun. Billie Joe slammed on the breaks (it was lucky we were on a private deserted road still) and whipped around to look at me. As he did I looked down at the floor to avoid meeting his eyes and Tre` caught the idea I was casting and put one of his hands on Billie Joe’s shoulder, the same hand that had been comforting my shoulder the night before.

“Oh,” Billie Joe managed to say, then hastily jolted the car forward and pretended that he hadn’t reacted in such a way. “How many months in are you?” He continued.

“Little over two,” I muttered.

“And you’re sure?” Tre` piped in. I figured he’d been dying to ask that question the night before, but had thought it highly inappropriate timing.

“Yup. You think I wouldn’t make absolutely positive that I was before I told anyone?!” I shouted at them involuntarily.

“Relax. This is just new to us, ok? I’m still getting used to the fact that my best friend, well I s’pose one of my two closest friends, if that makes you feel any better Tre`, is going to be a grandpa before me. But that's why you kept going to the bathroom? And the ginger ale? Jesus. I knew it.”

"What?” I asked slowly.

"It's just, it's so obvious. I don't know how I didn't catch it sooner,” Billie Joe informed me and I just kind of started to drift, catching only every other word in a jumbled mess. When we’d finally arrived at Tre`s house I was unaware of the silent tears running down each of my cheeks and the need for me to get out of the car.

“C’mon,” Tre` prompted, extending his hand to me through the door he had opened for me and I turned to get out, pushed the hand out of the way and slowly made my way out of the car in a daze. Still oblivious to the streaming tears, I made my way past a concerned looking Billie Joe on my way to the front door. Tre` took his time so that he and Billie Joe could talk about me on their way up the stairs. At long last Tre` came with the keys and Billie Joe was in tow with my luggage. I missed the guarded looks they exchanged as I went through the door of yet another huge house, but this one wasn’t old at all. Mike’s house had been a mansion designed to be Victorian and Tre`s was the opposite. It was most definitely modern inside and out. From the box shaped door, windows, floors to the enormous flat screen TV occupying an entire wall.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Tre` informed the screen adding a hug and a kiss, that I prayed wasn't open mouth since I was gonna have to use the TV, to his sentiments.

“Alrighty then. I’m hungry dude. We never got anything to eat,” Billie Joe responded, interrupting the embrace that he found somewhat disturbing.

“This way. I need to show Torrie the kitchen anyways,” Tre` muttered, and I managed to miss yet another concerned look being emanated to me. I followed Billie Joe who was following Tre` to the kitchen and eventually I found myself in what could never be described as a kitchen, but instead as a galley. You could certainly tell where Tre`s priorities lied. Everything in the kitchen, like the house, was modern stainless steel. The refrigerator was a huge industrial one with the two temperature controls on the front, one for the freezer and a separate one for the actual refrigerator part. The dishwasher looked like something worthy of an Invention of the Year award. It had two parts which each consisted of a drawer, as Tre` gladly demonstrated, and they too were stainless steel. The counter tops were also square shaped pieces of stainless steel mounted atop black wood frames and metal legs.

“-And there’s another freezer in the basement filled with my favorite ice creams and there’s also a pool table down there, which brings me up to my few list of rules regarding house guests,” he told me, reminding me that I was going to actually be staying here.

“Oh come on. I’m not going to have any fucking house guests. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a little short in the friend department,” I interrupted.

“Well just in case you do decide to invite someone over just know it’s alright by me. Condoms are in the bottom bathroom cabinet,” he told me, patting me on the back.

“Not that they’d do me much good,” I muttered.

“Well anyways, like I said, I’m starving,” Billie Joe interrupted, sensing the change in my mood.

“Well help yourself dude, I’m not Jeffrey,” Tre` said, then realized what he’d done when I went off into the next room to find a quiet spot to sit and cry. He chased after me after ordering Billie Joe to stay. He wanted to talk to me alone. Figuring he was getting the better end of the deal, Billie Joe stayed behind. After spotting me, he approached my beanbag chair in the basement silently.

“There’s nothing you can say. It’s all my own damn fault, as always,” I determined.

“Really? Since when is getting pregnant by being raped your fault?” He asked honestly.

“Since I’m the one he chose to rape. I must have done something to get him to make that choice. And I’m the one who let Jeffrey go and- and- and-” I stopped and buried my head in my arms in an attempt to stop the flowing tears.

“You listen to me and you listen now Torrie,” he told me, cupping my cheeks and forcing me to look him straight in the eyes,” YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING that night, understood? And you let Jeffrey go because you knew it was the right thing to do. He left because he knew he needed to be there for his mom.”

“It’s just that everything’s falling apart. What little structure, what few people I had to rely on is gone, completely demolished. And now I’m having a kid that I’m going to have to take care of, be a mother to. I’m in almost the exact same situation as my mother was seventeen years ago,” I confided and he regarded me with a careful glance before continuing.

“I know it seems that way, but it’ll be okay and you’re not in the same situation as your mother because you have Billie Joe and me. If you need anything, we’re just a phone call away, okay? It’ll be alright, just wait and see.”

“I wish I could believe you, but… I dunno.”

“Just a phone call away, remember,” he reminded me, getting up to leave me in my misery.

“Stay,” I responded involuntarily reaching out and grabbing his wrist.

“Okay,” he agreed in a whisper, then sat back down next to me on the bean bag chair, cradling me like the night before. I cried a bit more before falling asleep.