Always There

Stepping off the stage at 924 Gilman Street that night was just a natural high for Billie Joe Armstrong. Fuck pot at this point. Playing his music in front of an energetic crowd would always beat out the gange, any day.

And what better way to end his twentieth birthday?

Okay, so granted there was about two hours left of the day. But his band's set was over and they planned on scoring drinks from a friend's apartment before the night was officially out. They packed their instruments into the back of Mike's truck and all three members of the independent punk rock band Green Day piled into the front of the vehicle; Billie Joe smushed in the middle like a sardine.

After taking a wrong turn and having to backtrack the way they started, Mike finally pulled the truck up to the front of a beatup house that had a bunch of kids around their age filing in for a party. Hopping out and naively trusting their equipment would be safe, the guys trekked up the steps and walked through the front door, immediately seeing their friend John.

John used to be in the band. He was the drummer before he quit to go to college, thus the entrance of Tre Cool. This was more or less John. There entire house was being rented out by college kids. Some even slept in the living room because there weren't enough bedrooms or beds to go around. Some slept on the floor. There was even a basement apartment set up for mostly squatters. There was no definite idea of how many people lived down there. No one was sure the landlord even knew. Or cared.

The guys walked over to John and everyone began to wish Billie Joe a happy birthday to which he smiled and nodded. Then grabbed a beer. Mike sat down on the couch where there was room and happily took a joint from some random guy who'd just taken a hit. As if Mike really needed to smoke the thing. The entire living room was full of smoke as it was. All you had to do was walk around and breathe.

As midnight neared, Billie Joe found himself bumping into furniture left and right as he headed upstairs to the extra bathroom because someone was throwing up in the downstairs one. Two girls were making out on the stairs as he headed upward, causing Billie Joe to stare until they snapped at him to 'take a picture, it lasts longer.' Shaking his head with a grin, he reach the second floor and practically skipped to the door he thought was the bathroom. Opening the door, he swung it opened.

"Oh, shit," he laughed, drunkenly. "I'm sorry. I thought this was the bathroom."

Sitting at a desk in a bedroom that clearly wasn't the bathroom, was a girl with sandy blonde hair, staring up at Billie Joe with a look of annoyance. And instead of backing out of the room, excusing himself and shutting the door, he stepped toward her and closed the door with him still inside.

"This your room?" he asked with a bottle of Budweiser in his hand, looking at the posters of bands and such on the walls. "I like that poster of the cat hanging from the tree branch. 'Hang In There,'" he laughed, touching the poster with his finger.

"Uh, can I help you?" she snipped.

Billie Joe lazily looked at her with drowsy green eyes and smiled. "I was looking for the bathroom."

"It's next door. Now if you don't mind, I'm trying to study for my midterm."

"Study? Ptthh...it's a Saturday night...study tomorrow. There's a party downstairs. And upstairs. And I think in the basement and outside on the lawn."

"For your information, it's Monday...for the next twenty minutes. Okay?"

"Oooh, bitchy." Billie Joe caught her scowl and pouted. "Sorry. But it's my birthday today...for the next twenty minutes. And I'm a little drunk."

She looked at him, studying him carefully as if she were watching a toddler preparing to get into trouble. "I'd say a little more than 'a little drunk.' You're sloshed."

"Yeah, I am. And I've only been here, like...and hour and a half. But I'm not mean...I like having fun. Do you ever have fun, Miss...Study Person?"

"Yeah, I do. On the weekends. When I don't have midterms coming up."

"It's February. I thought colleges don't have midterms until, like...March or something..."

"Well, my Religion and Politics professor seems to think otherwise. And, my name isn't Miss Study Person. I'm not a nerd or anything."

"So what's your name? I'm Billie Joe. And, no, it's not William Joseph. My mom's from Oklahoma, so she stuck me with a hick name. You?"

"Temperance."

"That's a...uh...a peculiar name."

"I hate it. People usually just call me Maria."

"Why?" Billie Joe wondered, leaning against her dresser and holding his beer in front of him.

"'Cause it's my middle name. I blame my parents. They were liberal hippies who spouted off about peace and love and down with the Powers That Be on Hyde Street in the city, and they rubbed off on me when I was growing up."

"My dad was a trucker. My mom works in a diner. They didn't rub anything off on me except maybe music. My dad bought me my guitar when I was real little. I named it Blue. Wanna know why?"

"Sure," Maria shrugged.

"'Cause it's blue."

She snickered. As much as she wanted to shoo this guy out of her room she couldn't help but be caught up in his charm. Drunk as he may be.

"I thought you had to use the bathroom."

"I thought I did, too. Mind if I sit here?" he gestured to the edge of her bed and she shrugged.

"Well, seeing as I'm cleary not going to get any studying done tonight..."

Billie Joe flashed her a smile, pulling out a joint from his back pocket of his pants. "Cool. You mind if I--"

Maria gave an exasperated sigh with a mix of a smile. "Just share the wealth." Turning her chair around, she scooted closer and withdrew a lighter and held it out.

Impressed, Billie Joe leaned forward and lit the joint on the small flame. Taking a slow hit, he passed it to Maria who took it from him. He blew a puff of smoke from his lips as he watched her take her own hit. When she didn't cough or sputter like an amateur, he smirked.

Midnight came and went while the two of them sat in her room, getting totally baked. Their incessant giggles and incoherent musings went unheard to the party still going on outside the bedroom door. The two of them were lying on their backs on the dark blue shag carpeting of the floor, with their legs up and resting over to edge of the bed.

Maria passed the blunt back to Billie Joe as she took a hit from the third one he had rolled in a matter of two hours. She rolled over onto her side, her legs banging into his, knocking his legs to the floor.

"Oops," she laughed. She crawled onto her hands and feet, her face scrunching up as she reached for the bag of funions that had myteriously emptied itself. "Oh no. They're all gone."

She lifted it up and shook it upside down, the crumbs falling onto the floor. Billie Joe met her gaze, seriously, but then burst out laughing, practically snorting as he did so.

"What time is your class tomorrow?" he asked, stabbing the empty bag with his finger.

"Uh..." Maria trailed, kneeling on the ground now, and looking at her bedside alarm clock. "In eight hours."

"What time is it now?"

"Eight hours from my class."

"When's your class?"

"Eight hours. Eight of them, from now."

They looked at each other, semi-confused for a moment. "What are the numbers on the clock right now?" Billie Joe asked.

"Two...two something. I dunno." Maria shook her head and pulled herself up to her feet, climbing onto her bed. "I gotta sleep."

Standing up on wobbly legs, Billie Joe gripped the edge of her bed and had the audacity to slap Maria on the ass with his hand while taking one last hit from the joint.

"Hey!" Maria squealed.

"Rememberance Maria..." he snickered.

"Temperance," she corrected. "And don't call me that. Are you going?" She sat up straight, the subject changing abruptly.

"You gotta sleep."

"But you're such a nice guy. And I like your hair," she cooed, falling back down to her bed quite sleepily. "I'll share if you don't do anything funny. We can talk or something..."

Billie Joe stood there, assessing the situation before shrugging and crawling onto the bed beside Maria and lying there, facing her. She smiled and touched his face, brushing his hair out of his face and then pulling an afghan up over their bodies.

"Happy Birthday Billie Joe, not William Joseph," she whispered. Moving her head forward, she rested it against his chest and closed her eyes.

He laid there, eyes open, wondering what had just happened. He was really baked and really tired. Everything was just really foggy. But he was well aware that a pretty college girl was in his arms. A girl he'd met only over two hours ago. Or something. Maybe it was more. He didn't remember. He was kinda hungry though. But he was content with just laying there.

It was hard to explain.

It wasn't every day he went to a party after a gig and got high with some random girl. Okay, let's amend that statement. It wasn't every day he went to a party after a gig and got high with a studious college girl who just so happened to be real pretty and then went to bed with her, in the nonsexual way.

For Billie Joe, there had only been one girl for him in the last year and a half. Adrienne Nesser. But they'd decided to break up due to the strains of their long distance relationship. She was going to school in Minnesota while he was in California and then traveling the country in a van or bookmobile with the guys.

He wondered, what would happen in the morning? This girl, this Maria was certainly a pretty cool person. But he wasn't sure she was the type he'd wanna get involved with after his break up with Adrienne.

Damn.

He had the munchies real bad.