No One Knows

Getting out into the big city by herself felt liberating. It had been a while since she had visited San Francisco. Too long, she decided, looking out of the window. She let her eyes trail along rows of Victorian houses and lines of trees, as the bus continued along what felt like a roller coaster ride over the city's famous hills, almost leaving her stomach behind at the top but letting it catch up at the base of each dip.

The place was at its most pleasant on a sunny day in June, before the summer fog had set in and obscured the bay from view, but that didn't help to calm her nerves. She wasn't there to admire the scenery. Hopping off the bus at the Civic Centre, she sat down on the curb and took out her map, vaguely aware of how much of a tourist she must look, but too focussed on the task at hand to care.

It didn't take her long to find the place she needed, but she paced back and forth outside of it for nearly twenty minutes anyway, picturing someone inside laughing and saying hers was an impossible task, and still unsure whether she wanted it to be possible anyway. Eventually she bit her lip and started purposefully through the revolving glass doors of the department of social services, telling herself sternly that she had come too far now to wuss out at the last minute.

Stepping up to the front desk nervously, she cleared her throat to get the attention of the receptionist, who had her face hidden behind the National Enquirer and kept snapping her gum so loud that it echoed around the cold marble lobby.

"Can I help you?" she asked, lowering her magazine and fixing her eyes on Jessie.
"Um... I'm not sure. I'm looking for birth records... "
"We have records of all births and deaths in the state of California."
"Oh... cool," said Jessie, nervously.
"What do you need to find out?"

Jessie tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she answered, looking the receptionist straight in the eyes.

"I'm trying to find my mother."

"Mom, I'm serious. I'm worried about her. What if something's happened to her? What if he's found her?"

Nerves were still frayed that morning in the Armstrong house, Ollie dealing with the aftermath of her break up whilst still coming to terms with its circumstances, and Billie Joe going crazy with guilt and worry over Jessie's disappearance.

"She's only been gone one night, Billie. She's probably staying with a friend"

Billie Joe sighed, putting his head in his hands, and resting his elbows on the kitchen table.
"She left me a note," he said,
"What do you mean?"
"Last night... I found a note she left me. She's gone, Mom. And she didn't say where."
"Shit," Ollie sighed, her own concern growing, "Why didn't you tell me that before?"
"... I don't know"
"Go get the note. I want to see it."
"... I can't. It's private"
"Billie... I'm serious. This is serious. Jessie's bound to be upset right now, what with everything that's been happening. I don't want her out there somewhere on her own."
"Nor do I! That's what I've been trying to say! But the note didn't say where she was going, so there's no point in reading it!"
"So what did it say?"

Billie Joe sighed in frustration. The note was written for him. It was about him, about them. He wanted it to stay that way.

"Have you guys been fighting again?" Ollie asked, suspiciously,
"... Not exactly," Billie Joe said awkwardly.
"Look, I'll call the school, see if she turned up there. But there's really nothing we can do but wait and hope she contacts us."
"Can't we go looking for her?"
"Where are you going to look Billie? You can't just comb the entire Bay Area. You won't find her unless she wants to be found. We've just got to sit tight and wait for some news"

Billie Joe never had been much good at waiting.

Ollie called Jessie's school, to be told that they hadn't seen her either. After filling the principal in on the circumstances at home, she headed off to the restaurant, knowing that life had to carry on as normal as they waited and hoped for Jessie to contact them.

Part of her must have been hoping it wouldn't be possible. I mean, it was a big country, and she was talking about one woman. And who was to stay she was still in the States? She could have emigrated to New Zealand, for all Jessie knew. But when she found out that it was possible, and she was sitting in a stuffy office with a pile of paperwork in front of her, she started wondering what the hell she was doing.

What was she expecting? Some fairytale reunion? Her and her mother running into each others' arms amidst clouds of glittering smoke? If her mother really wanted to see her again, wouldn't she have tried? Her and her father couldn't have been difficult to find all these years. They hadn't left Berkeley. They hadn't even left the same district of Berkeley. What if she was simply setting herself up for more heartbreak?

The woman sitting across the desk from her was named Andie. Andie claimed to have reunited 136 separated blood relations since she had been working in the department of social services. Jessie thought that was particularly promising, since she didn't even look that old. Still, she must have noticed Jessie's apprehension, because she broke her tirade of thoughts by leaning across the desk and looking her in the eye.

"Jessica," she said, in a voice that was soft but firm, "This process could take months. We will keep you informed every step of the way, but there are never any guarantees. You could be waiting a long time."
"I know," said Jessie, nervously, "It's okay. I understand that."
"I know this all seems pretty overwhelming right now, but by the time your mother is traced, if she is traced, the idea of making contact with her probably won't seem to alien to you."
"Yeah, I guess," said Jessie.
"And there's no pressure on you to follow the process through. You'll be the one making contact, not your mother. If you change your mind, or you want us to wait until you're more ready... well, that's just fine."

Jessie nodded. She watched Andie twirl her pen around her fingers, and noticed that the fingernails on her right hand were filed shorter than on the left, and her skin looked sort of rough. She smirked slightly as she was reminded of Billie Joe and wondered if Andie was a guitarist in her spare time.

An hour later, Jessie was lying on her back in Golden Gate Park, baking on the sun-drenched grass as she reflected on her morning and the enormity of what she had done. There was plenty going on around her on the hot summer's day. Kids were running back and forth, playing games and laughing loudly, lazy games of football were being organized, with new rules being made up and old ones ignored. Families were sharing picnics under the shade of the trees and groups of boys were jumping into Stow Lake, which lay at the foot of the grassy mound she had settled on, splashing loudly before being yelled at by an overheated park ranger.

But despite all the commotion around her, Jessie felt more relaxed than she had in a long while. As long as she could remember, in fact. She didn't need to worry about going home to her father and what mood he would be in when she got there, or about Ollie throwing them out, or her schoolteachers breathing down her neck, or her increasingly screwed relationship with Billie Joe. It occurred to her how strange it was that she had only come as far as the other side of the Bay, because that morning those worries seemed another world away.

Billie Joe and Mike were sitting in the Armstrong's kitchen, going over their proposed set list for their show that Saturday night, while they waited for Tre to show up. He was late, as usual.

"I can tell already I'm gonna be the only organized guy in this damn band," said Mike, leaning back in his chair as he brought a can of Coke to his lips, "I'm gonna have to kick both your asses into gear if we're gonna get anywhere."
"Hey!" said Billie Joe, indignantly, "I'm here, aren't I?"
"It's your house, Jackass," said Mike, with a wry smile, "That doesn't count. 'Specially since you're usually still in bed when I come pick you up anyway."
"Yeah, well," Billie Joe muttered, "You can't rush a genius, y'know."

Mike grinned.
"Whatever, BJ," he said, "But y'know, I think that, as a species, we bassists could rule the world"

Billie Joe laughed.

"As a species?" he repeated, "How'd you figure that one, Mikey?"

Mike set his soda can down on the table with a purposeful clank.

"Well," he began, "It's obvious we're the brains behind any rock operation. We're the cool guys who get stuff done. We don't hog the limelight, we don't grab for attention, we just stay in the background so people don't notice that, without us... everything falls apart."

Billie Joe grinned in amusement. Mike continued.

"I mean, think about it. You got your drummers, right? Typically lazy asses with short attention spans who like to goof off whenever possible... "
"-That sounds like Tre... " Billie Joe cut in, with a smile.
"And you got your frontmen... typically your classic attention grabbing drama queens-"
"Hey!" Billie Joe interjected in protest, "I'm no drama queen!"

Mike laughed.

"Are you kidding me, Billie?! It is literally one drama after another with you."

Billie Joe folded his arms over his chest.

"That's not my fault," he said, defensively, "Life's just fucking complicated, is all."

Mike took another sip of his drink, observing the gloomily thoughtful expression that had suddenly clouded Billie Joe's features.

"Any word from Jessie?" he asked, eventually.

Billie Joe shook his head, biting down slightly on his bottom lip. He'd been trying to put the situation out of his mind, but he wasn't having much luck.

"Ah, she'll come back, man," said Mike, reassuringly, "She's been through a lot. She needs time to get her head straight, get away from it all. She'll figure out soon enough there are people here who care about her. That's too much to give up."

Billie Joe sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't think she realizes that," he said, "I think... she thinks I don't care at all."
"Come on, dude, she can't think that. It's obvious you care. You were there for her when she told you about her dad, right? She needed you then. She still needs you now. She doesn't have many friends, she won't go chuckin' one away."

Billie Joe put his head in his hands and tugged a little at his hair.

"I hope not," he said.

A knock at the door made both boys jump.

"About fucking time," said Billie Joe, smiling slightly as he got up to get the door.
Pulling open the door to greet Tre with the usual light-hearted berating he got on account of his lateness, the smile on Billie Joe's face quickly vanished, and was replaced by a dark glare.

"What the hell do you want?"

John matched Billie Joe's glare with one of his own.

"I want to talk to Ollie, I want to talk to my daughter, and I want you to get the fuck right outta my sight."
"Ain't gonna happen," said Billie Joe, his heart beating fast as he slammed the door shut in John's face and slid the bolt across. John hammered on it angrily.

"Open the door you little asshole!" he growled, "You can't keep my fucking daughter from me! I'll drag your ass through the courts so fast you'll be fucking seasick!"
"Good luck with that!" said Billie Joe, smoothly, his voice raised so that it reached John through the thick wood of the door, "You really think their gonna be on your side? Cause they're gonna be on Jessie's. And she obviously doesn't wanna fucking see you!"
"I think we'll let her decide that!" said John, angrily,
"She already has!" Billie Joe shouted, "She's fucking left already! I haven't seen her since fucking Tuesday night! You scared her off, and now none of us can see her!"

John hammered angrily on the door again.

"You can say what the fuck you like, Billie Joe!" he shouted, "You can't stop me!"
"Fuck off!" Billie Joe yelled, "Get outta here! I'm not letting you in! Jessie's not here, Mom's not here, and I don't think you want break-in entry to add to the list of felonies they can drag up if you try and take us to court!"

It was a good point, and John knew it. Fuming, he gave the door a hard kick, before storming off down the driveway. Once Billie Joe heard him leave, he leaned back against the door and let out a deep breath.

Asshole.

When Tre finally arrived to go through the arrangements for Saturday's show, it was obvious to both he and Mike that Billie Joe's heart just wasn't in it. He sat with his head resting in the palm of his hand, staring off into space, his mind entirely elsewhere. And both boys knew exactly where it was.

"Bill?" Tre prompted, bringing him back down to earth, "What d'you wanna open with, man?"
"I... I dunno, guys. Whatever you think's best."
"Well, what do you think's best?" Mike asked him.

Billie ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Fuck knows," he said, "... Look guys, I'm not sure I can do this right now. I've just... . I've got somethin' I need to do."
"Okay, Man," said Mike, concerned by his best friend's behavior, "Well... . We can pick this up again later, if you like. My place?"

Tre nodded.

"Thanks, guys," said Billie Joe, gratefully.

He had to do something. He couldn't just sit back and wait any longer. Anything could have happened to her, and Billie Joe was envisioning every possibility in his mind's eye. He had to do everything he could.

Racking his brain for any clues Jessie could have given him as to where she might go, Billie Joe found himself at the only place he could think of that might be able to give him some answers: Eastside Record Store.

He wasn't a regular customer. He knew it was a good place, but he also knew there was a better place on the other side of town, so he had only been in a couple of times before, and not at all since Jessie had worked there.

Parking on the yellow line outside the building, he hopped out of the car, feeling nervous. He didn't know what he expected to find out, or whether he expected anything at all. Pushing open the flyer-adorned front door and stepping into the store, his eyes fell on the guy behind the counter. Mid-thirties and unmistakably punk, he was shuffling back and forth sorting through a stack of vinyl, while singing along to the Ramones very, very badly. The handful of customers browsing the store looked amused, and Billie Joe couldn't help but smile himself, because straight away he knew this was his guy and that he was probably going to like him.

Billie Joe approached the counter, where Eddie had his back to him.

"I don't wanna be burieeed, in a pet semeta-aareeeeeee... "

Eddie turned around in the middle of his line and noticed Billie Joe standing there.

"Hey, man, somethin' you're lookin' for?" he inquired.
"Uh... Are you Eddie?"
"That's me."
"Oh... great. Uhm... Well, you know Jessie Perrone, right? I mean, she works here... right?"

Eddie raised an eyebrow.

"She did," he said, "But she doesn't no more."
"What?" Billie Joe asked, feeling a little panicked, "Why not? Did she quit?"
"Yeah," said Eddie, placing his hands on the counter and leaning forward, "She came in yesterday and told me she was leaving. You a friend of hers, kid?"
"Where was she going?" Billie Joe asked, urgently, "Did she say?"
"Look Dude, how do you know her?" Eddie asked, suddenly feeling protective.
"I... we live together," said Billie Joe, quickly, "In the same house, I mean. I'm-"
"-Billie Joe... " Eddie finished, with an amused smirk of realization, "... Right?"
"Yeah," said Billie Joe, a little surprised, "But listen, she left... and didn't say where. I need to find her, okay? I'm fucking worried about her. Did she tell you anything at all?"
"She said she was headed out to San Francisco," said Eddie, with a sigh, "She was pretty upset, but I couldn't talk her outta it. She's a pretty stubborn kid. Said she'd gone done something stupid, but wouldn't tell me what it was. Said she needed to get away."

Billie Joe swallowed, furious at himself for feeling hurt. She was right. It was stupid. He knew that. He needed to get a fucking grip on himself.

"Billie Joe, is Jessie in some kinda trouble?" Eddie asked, leaning in closer, "Cause, man, I'm kinda worried too. You can tell me what's goin' on, I'm not gonna grass anyone up, I just wanna help."

Billie Joe bit his lip and sighed, resting his elbows on the counter and sliding his fingers into his hair. It was strange but, for some reason, talking to Eddie felt easy. It was funny how just because they surrounded themselves in the same music and the same scene, he felt as if they somehow understood each other.

Eddie watched Billie Joe, concerned.
"You okay, man?" he asked, softly.
"We slept together," Billie Joe heard himself say.

He kept his voice low, but really he needn't have bothered. The background music had switched to the next track, a live version of Teenage Lobotomy, which it was difficult to hear anything over the top of anyway.

Eddie raised his eyebrows, surprised by Billie Joe's revelation. Billie Joe was pretty surprised by it himself. He hadn't been planning on revealing that information, especially to someone who was really a complete stranger, and he didn't really know why he had.

"Well," said Eddie, after a moment. "That explains a lot."

Billie Joe nodded, wearily, and Eddie wished he could have been a little more tactful than jumping in and telling him what a huge mistake Jessie thought she had made.

"I didn't think you two were... involved like that," He said carefully, looking at Billie Joe, whose eyes were fixed on the counter top.
"We aren't," Billie Joe replied, "That's the problem"
"Ah," said Eddie, knowingly, "So how'd this happen?"

Billie Joe shrugged, hopelessly.

"I dunno," he said, "It just sorta did. It was my fault... "

Eddie smiled a little at that.

"Come on, Man," he said, "I don't think Jessie's entirely blameless in this somehow... "
"No... " said Billie Joe, cocking his head to one side and keeping his eyes down, "But... I was the one who got... carried away. I shoulda... I shoulda said somethin', made sure it was what she wanted, y'know? Cause... she hadn't ever... I mean, it was... "

Billie Joe sighed in frustration, rubbing his hand across his face.

"I think it was her first time," he finished, hurriedly, "... And I wasn't exactly... sensitive... to that."

Eddie nodded. He didn't say anything for a moment. He just looked thoughtful, while he poked at his lip ring with his tongue.

"Look, Dude," he said, eventually, making Billie raise his eyes to his, "These things happen. It's human nature, is all. And yeah, it means people get hurt. But we've all been there. You can't beat yourself up about it."

Billie Joe looked unconvinced. Eddie continued.

"We just gotta try and learn from our mistakes, y'know? Keep our brains in our heads and not in our pants. I say that, but if I had a dime for every time I regretted somethin' like this... . Well, I probably wouldn't need to spend so much time in this place..."

Billie Joe smiled a little, but Eddie's words had made him think in ways they weren't intended. Regret? He wasn't even sure if he did regret it. He regretted the consequences, sure enough, but the act itself... had it been wrong? Did it even matter anymore?

"Well," he said, dismissively, "Either way, Jessie hates me now and fuck knows where she's at."
"She doesn't hate you," said Eddie, firmly, "That much has always been obvious."
"Really?"
"Really. And she'll come round. She'll realize this doesn't need to mean the end of your friendship and she'll come back. You just... you need to give her time. She's young, and she's sensitive. More sensitive than she lets on, I reckon. She's just an angsty teenager, when it comes down to it."

Billie Joe nodded.

"I just wanna know she's okay," he said, quietly.
"It's weighin' on your conscience, huh?"
"Well... yeah, and... she's got other stuff to worry about too. I mean, my Mom and her Dad just split... "
"Shit, man. Sorry to hear that."
"Don't be. It's the best fuckin' news I've heard since they got together in the first place. But... things with Jessie and her Dad aren't good. And I need her to know she can stay with my Mom and me. She doesn't need to run away to San Francisco."
"She seemed to know what she was doing and where she was going. She turns up here, I'll let you know. I've got your number, it was the same as hers anyway. Just give her some time. She'll be back, man. Just... don't beat yourself up over it... alright?"
"Alright," Billie Joe agreed, reluctantly, standing up straight again, "... Thanks Eddie"
"No problemo, Dude. Good to finally put a face to the name."
"Likewise," Billie Joe nodded, with a smile.

As he headed toward the door, feeling strangely uplifted considering he wasn't any further towards finding Jessie, Eddie called out to him, and he looked back over his shoulder.

"I forgot to ask - How's Tre Cool workin' out for ya?" Eddie called, smiling.

Billie Joe smiled too, amused that Tre seemed to know everybody.

"Awesome!" he called back, "We have our first show together Saturday night!"
"Sweet," grinned Eddie, "Where you playing?"
"Gilman Street... 924. You should come down!"

Eddie smiled and stuck his thumb up as he turned to serve a waiting customer, and Billie Joe turned to head for home.

Returning home that night, after practice in Mike's basement, Billie Joe found his mother had gone to bed and the house was in darkness, save the landing light, which he had noticed she had taken to leaving on at night since John had gone. He hated how quiet it was.

Trudging up the stairs with his guitar slung over his shoulder, the open door to Annie's bedroom caught his eye, and he stopped to peer inside. Seeing the neatly made bed looking so untouched gave him a wrenching pain in his gut, which only got worse when the memories attached to it floated to the front of his mind. That was the bed he had kissed her in.

Pushing the thought aside, he headed to his room, putting his guitar down on his bed and sinking onto the mattress next to it, his head in his hands. He missed her. There, he had admitted it. This wasn't just about concern for her welfare. He didn't just want to make sure she was okay. He missed her company. Sure, their relationship so far had been turbulent to say the least, but whether they had been laughing at each other or screaming at each other, life had certainly never been boring. It was as if, now she had gone, the world had suddenly turned black and white. All the same outlines were there, but nothing had any substance he could grab hold of. Staring down at his shoelaces, he lost himself in memories of Jessie, the good and the bad.

He had tuned out of his surroundings so completely that when Henry jumped onto the bed next to him, his heart jolted near enough right out of his body.

"Fuckin' hell... " he breathed, glaring at Jessie's cat, "What are you trying to do to me, huh?"

Henry blinked at him, innocently, before curling up against his leg and beginning to purr. Billie Joe sighed, absently running his hand across the cat's soft fur, realizing he hadn't even remembered Henry existed amidst all the shit that had been kicking off. He hoped his Mom had remembered, because he knew Jessie would be furious if nobody was feeding him. She loved that cat.

"She'll come back," he whispered to Henry. He knew he was only saying it in an attempt to convince himself. He wasn't in the habit of talking to critters that he knew didn't understand him and didn't give a shit about it. "She has to. She wouldn't leave you after all this time. She'd leave me, but she wouldn't leave you."

He sat on the bed, stroking Henry for a while, mesmerized by his lazy purrs, before deciding that he wasn't ready for sleep so he may as well do something productive with his time. He stood up from the bed, disturbing Henry, who looked up indignantly and stopped purring. Billie Joe picked up his acoustic and sat back down, resting his guitar in his lap. Henry started purring again. Fingering the strings, gently, he picked out some chords, humming along softly until his humming took the form of words and he expressed his unease in the way that he knew best.

"I don't want to cause no harm... but sometimes my actions hurt... is there something I should find to make plans for forever... Better think again, cause no one knows"