No One Knows

Two days passed, bringing with them changes on both the East Side of the bay, and the West. Billie Joe's hair color went from dark brown to cobalt blue, and Jessie went from relishing in her distance from Berkeley to finding it almost painful.

It wasn't just the place itself, although leaving the town you grew up in is always difficult. Especially a town like Berkeley, with such a sense of its own identity that, when immersed in it for long enough, it is difficult to adjust to life outside of it. The Bay Area as a whole is renowned for its liberal lifestyle and startling diversity, but Berkeley prided itself on being a town as eclectic and off the wall as they come.

But it was the familiarity that Jessie missed. She missed being surrounded by places she knew, and by people she knew, even though most people she knew she didn't actually like all that much. At first, the change had been refreshing and she had just wanted to bask in it, but that feeling hadn't lasted. The anxiety had been following her, and now it was catching her up.

The thought that she had closed the door on her life in Berkeley, however unhappy it may have been, was a frightening one. She felt like her memories of it were already slipping away. Sitting on a bench down at Pier 39 early on Saturday morning, watching the tourist boats leave for Alcatraz and Angel Island, she struggled to get them back, grasping at them, losing herself in them as best she could.

If she closed her eyes and concentrated very hard, she could hear her father laughing. Laughing like he used to, when he meant it, when he was really happy. She could see Freddy, sitting next to her on the wall outside the school, regaling her with tales of near misses with teachers and brushes with the law that they both knew were exaggerated, but also that it didn't matter. She could see Eddie, singing along to his punk records while he simultaneously tried both to build on her musical knowledge and engage her in a contest involving aiming discarded receipts at the trash can. She could almost hear him throwing names, dates and paper. And she could see Billie Joe. She could see him giggling at one of his own lame jokes, not caring that he was the only one in the room doing so. She could see his green eyes turning wide and indignant when she took the piss out of him, and flashing and darkening when they fought.

But none of that mattered now, because she couldn't go back. She had taken the leap, and she couldn't do it in reverse. Things with Billie Joe had gone from complicated to downright screwed beyond recognition, and she knew they had wrecked the friendship they might once have had. She could never look at him the same way now. Not now they'd been together like that. She would always feel a hint of resentment pulling at her guts when she looked into those eyes. He had taken an experience she would only get once and turned it into something meaningless. It wasn't supposed to be meaningless. It wasn't supposed to be something she longed to forget. And she did long to forget it. But she knew she wouldn't.

She also knew that, once Tre found out about it - and he inevitably would- he wouldn't forget it either. She had been hoping she and Tre could have ended up friends, if nothing more, but it looked like she'd killed any possibility of that ever happening.

And then there was her father. If anything could make him angrier than grassing him up to Billie Joe, it was probably grassing him up and then running away, especially if he ever knew what she was doing here in San Francisco. And this was the biggest reason she had for staying away from Berkeley. She found it contemptibly pathetic, but her biggest reason was fear.

She hadn't noticed how much time had gone by while she was going over all of this in her head, and found it amazing when the tourist information board nearby told her in its higgledy piggledy white plastic letters that three boats had sailed right past her eyes without her seeing a single one of them.

It was getting busy down by the waterfront. Busy and hot. There wasn't a single cloud that day, so the sun came straight down to the bare ground without any interruptions, reflecting off the water and making her feel a little like she was sitting in a slow cook oven. The hostel she was staying in until she figured out some long term plans was only a minute's walk along the promenade, so she decided it would be a good idea to head back for a cold drink and a siesta.

Being in the heart of Fisherman's Wharf - San Francisco's tourist trap- in peak season, the place was teaming with backpackers. She suspected she was the only American staying there, and was almost certain she was the only Californian. Squeezing past a herd of British travelers and heading for the stairs up to her first floor room, she stopped at the sound of her name being called, and turned towards the voice.

It was Julia, the Australian girl on the reception desk. While she had the misfortune of working during one of the busiest weeks of the year in an overcrowded lobby with no air conditioning, she never seemed particularly stressed about it. Jessie thought she actually seemed happy about it, but decided it must just be her accent that made her sound that way.

"You're Jessie, aren't you?" Julia asked, cocking her head to one side.
"Uh... yeah," said Jessie, impressed she remembered. She must have checked in a hundred guests that week.
"Oh good," she smiled, looking relieved, "Cause I took down a telephone message for you earlier. Just a sec... "

Jessie leaned on the desk as Julia rooted around underneath it.

"Ah-hah!" she smiled, triumphantly thrusting a pink slip of paper into her hand, "Here you are."
"Thanks," said Jessie, intrigued.
"No problems," Julia smiled, cheerily, as Jessie walked away.

The message was from Andie at the department of social services, and simply said to call her, which made Jessie's heartbeat quicken. She couldn't have any information for her yet, it had only been three days! It was supposed to take months! She had prepared herself for it to take months! She exhaled deeply, folding the paper in half as she headed for the pay phone in the breakfast room. Don't be stupid, she told herself. There's probably a problem with the paperwork or something. She had been a little overwhelmed when she filled it all in, that's all. Nothing to get panicky about. Jessie picked up the receiver, glanced down at the paper, and began to dial.

On Saturday morning, Billie Joe managed to shock Ollie twice in one go, just by walking into the room. First of all, it was before noon, and this was enough of a surprise in itself. The second surprise was his hair, which made Ollie do a double take and choke a little on her coffee.

"Morning," he said, nonchalantly, sleepily rubbing his eyes a little as he opened the refrigerator.
"When did that happen?" Ollie asked him.
"Huh?"
"Your hair, Bill. It's blue," she told him, as if he didn't know.
"Oh yeah. Mike did it last night. Cool huh?"
"I guess I'll get used to it," said Ollie, wryly, taking another sip of her coffee, "So is Mike's hair blue too?"
"What? Of course not!" said Billie Joe, scornfully, looking over his shoulder, "We couldn't both have blue hair. That would look weird."
"Right... " smiled Ollie, "Why are you up anyway?"
"Show tonight," Billie Joe reminded her, as he poured himself a glass of juice, "Hafta practice. I'm goin' over to Tre's. Said I'd be there at... "

He glanced at the clock above the door.

"... Ten minutes ago. Shit. Mike's gonna be steamin'. I gotta go"

When Billie Joe arrived at Tre's, his two bandmates were hanging out by the pool in the backyard, Tre soaking up the sun, and Mike tuning his bass by ear, sitting on the parched grass.

"Call this practice, guys?" Billie Joe joked, as he strode into their view.

Mike looked up. Tre thought about it, then decided he was way too comfortable flat on his back watching the clouds, so settled for mumbling a greeting in Billie Joe's general direction.

"Do you?" Mike smirked, "What the hell time is this, Jackass?"
"Ah, come on, Mikey," Billie Joe smiled, "I'm not that late."

Setting up their equipment in his basement, Tre managed to unwittingly tear at Billie Joe's conscience once again, by asking just one question.

"Any news of Jessie yet?"
"... No," said Billie Joe, flatly, without looking up.
"Fuck, man. Where d'you think she's got to? I'm worried."
"She's in San Francisco," Billie Joe sighed, "She told Eddie it was where she was headed. Aside from that, he knows as much as we know."

As the words came out of his mouth, Billie Joe realized that his implication that he and Tre knew the same amount was a lie. After all, he knew a great deal more about the motives behind Jessie's disappearance than Tre did, and he hoped it was going to stay that way.

"Why didn't you tell me that before?" Tre frowned,
"... Well, it isn't much to go on," said Billie Joe, guiltily, "I'm sorry, dude, I didn't think."

Truth be told, he'd been trying to avoid the subject of Jessie whenever he was around Tre. He hadn't wanted to bring her up by volunteering information that was useless anyway.

"Will you ladies quit gossiping and get some instruments in your hands?" Mike demanded, suddenly, turning up the bass amp loud, the way he liked it.
Mike wanted to avoid the subject of Jessie around Tre too.

After a couple of hours of productive practice, the three young punks felt like they were getting somewhere. They were confident they were going to sound great. And Billie Joe was as excited as his band mates were, of course he was. It was just that this was one time when the thrill of the impending performance wasn't at the forefront of his mind.

Taking a cigarette break, he headed out into the backyard and sat down on a bench against the back wall of the house. Lighting up, he filled his lungs with smoke and leaned back, feeling his body relax slightly as he released it into the hot air.

Moments later, Mike appeared, wordlessly sitting down next to him and lighting a cigarette off the end of his own.

"I think this ones gonna be a damn good one," he commented, eventually, breaking the easy silence which had fallen over the two old friends.

Billie Joe nodded. Mike watched him closely, then spoke again.

"But you aren't thinking about that, are you?"

Billie Joe sighed at Mike's perceptiveness and slowly shook his head.
"You feel guilty? About Tre?"
"Of course," Billie Joe said, his voice almost a whisper, as he ran a hand through his newly colored hair, "I'm a complete shit. Of course I feel guilty."
"Shut up," said Mike, "Don't be so dramatic. You know you aren't a shit."

Mike smirked a little.

"Not a complete shit," he added.
"He's going to hate me if he finds out, Mike."
"If?" Mike questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Billie Joe sighed, taking another drag on his cigarette before hunching forward and putting his head in his hands, staring down at the grass between his shoes as he held the smoke in his lungs. Then he let it out all in one breath.

"Do I have to tell him?"

Mike chuckled around his own cigarette. Sometimes he wondered if Billie Joe was going to expect him to have the answers to all his problems for the whole of his life. It amused him that, even though Billie Joe was a little older than him, he regarded Mike as if he were a wise old man that could always be relied upon to make his decisions for him, and make the right ones at that.

You don't have to do anything, BJ," said Mike, "You should do what you think is best."
"I don't know what's best, Mike. What do you think's best?"

Mike looked thoughtful for a moment, before turning his head to meet Billie Joe's anxious and expectant green eyes.

"I think that, most the time, it's best to be honest with people," he admitted, "But also... I don't think you're gonna relax with this thing weighin' on your conscience. I think you need to get it out in the open, so you can explain it to Tre for what it was - a meaningless mistake. Then you can apologize and know that you've wiped your slate clean. However he takes it... you'll have done all you can. And anyway, Tre's a fair guy. Sure, he'll be pissed at first and all, but in the end... she's just a girl, Man."

Billie Joe nodded gratefully as he leaned back in his seat. She's just a girl. Why hadn't he thought of that?

Jessie was sitting in the chair opposite Andie for the second time that week. She watch her rearrange the stuff on her desk, look over her paperwork, while she sat there feeling more and more nervous. She was pretty sure her nervousness couldn't keep increasing at the same rate. It had to be scientifically impossible, or soon enough she was going to collapse.

She twisted her hands in her lap and tried to breathe more slowly. She tried to remember what Andie had said to her last time she was here that had convinced her to go ahead with all of this. She had told her that nobody regretted making this journey. She had said it would stop her from defining herself by her loss. She hadn't been aware she had been defining herself by anything. But maybe that was the problem. She needed this. She needed answers. She needed to see her mother, see who she was, whether she was the same as she was. Most of all, she needed to know why. What makes a woman take off one day and leave behind a four-year-old kid? Maybe she was just a selfish, heartless bitch, but Jessie decided she'd rather know that so she could move on, than spend her lifetime wondering. She didn't have anybody right then. She had to find out if, somewhere, she had somebody.

Andie looked up and gave her a little smile.
"Sorry to call you back so suddenly," she apologized, "I didn't want to keep you waiting for a anything. I know that people in your situation want to be kept in the know."

Jessie nodded.

"So... what do you know?" she asked nervously.

Andie straightened her papers again. At the top of the pile, Jessie noticed, was her own birth certificate.

"We started the search process right away," Andie explained, in a soft voice, "We always do. The first thing we do is search the official state records... "
"What kind of records?"
"Well... births, marriages... divorces... deaths."
"... That makes sense," said Jessie, shakily.

The nervousness was still increasing. It had to stop now. Really.

"Obviously, it's only been a few days," Andie continued, "So we don't know many details. We're working on that. But... Jessica, we do know that your mother died... a few months back... . Here in California."

Jessie stared at her, and Andie stared right back, with sympathy in her eyes.

"I'm really sorry," she said. And she did sound really sorry, but it wasn't much comfort right then.

It was a strange feeling, finding something so precious and losing it again, all in one blow. It was a gut-wrenching disappointment that left Jessie feeling numb. But that was all it was: A disappointment. Jessie knew she was expected to feel grief, but she couldn't. She didn't have anything to grieve over, because she didn't know what she had lost. All she did know was that it was something big, and that it had been the one strand she had been clinging to, to keep her from going under. She was alone now, out on her own. And she felt completely at sea.

Her mouth went dry, which made her voice come out sounding like someone else entirely. It was strange, because she felt like someone else entirely too.

"How... when... when?" she managed, eventually.
"She died on April 25th," said Andie, gently, "In Santa Barbara. It was a car accident."

Jessie nodded, letting the information sink in. She still couldn't feel anything.

"Was that where she lived... Santa Barbara?"
"We don't know that yet," said Andie, reaching across the desk and laying her hand reassuringly on Jessie's, "But we're going to find all that out for you. Right now, we only know what's recorded on her death certificate."
"But you'll... know more than that?"
"Oh yes. We will. And we'll pass it all on to you."

Jessie nodded, chewing on her lip. The thought that the whole time, her mother could have been just a few hours down the coast was unsettling to say the least. How different things could have been, if she had just decided to do this a few months earlier.

Stepping out of the building and onto the sunny street, Jessie felt lost. The street was bustling with people, mainly business people in snappy suits walking purposely in their chosen direction, probably heading off to lunch meetings or hurrying back to their offices after their breaks.

But Jessie didn't have a direction. She didn't know which way she was supposed to go. Feeling dizzy, she blindly started walking down the hill, only because she knew she sure as hell wasn't in any physical state to handle walking up it. She eventually found herself back at the promenade, where she collapsed gratefully onto an empty bench and put her head in her hands. Raising her eyes upwards, she looked out at the bay. It was familiar, and comforting. It was exactly the kind of thing she needed to look at right then. Turning her head to the left, she squinted through the haze, trying to make out Berkeley across the water. She couldn't see very much.

Watching families, couples, groups of friends stroll by, she had never felt so lonely. She had never wanted to badly to be held. What was the point of being in this city now? It was so big, and she was so small, all it did was swamp her. She sat there for a long time. By the time she came out of her thoughts, it was late afternoon. Now she had no fantastical new beginning ahead of her, all she could think about was the life she had left behind. She thought about Ollie and Eddie and the way they both looked after her in their different ways. And she thought about Billie Joe, and the way he made her laugh and persuaded her that things were going to be okay.

She didn't know if they would ever be the same. She didn't know if she could ever get any of them back again. All she knew was that she didn't have anything in San Francisco. She had to find out if she had lost everything before it was too late.

She was the last person Eddie had been expecting to walk through the door. There he was, hurrying through his last few customers of the day, attempting to clear them out a little earlier than usual so that he could head down to Gilman Street to catch Green Day on stage. He'd heard a lot about them on the Berkeley Punk Grapevine and his curiosity was fueled, especially since he'd spent the past couple of months listening to endless accounts of Billie Joe's apparently Jekyll and Hyde character from Jessie. He was keen to see the kid in action. And then he looked up, and there she was. Standing there, looking nervous and more vulnerable than he had ever seen her look. He couldn't believe it.

"Jessie!" he exclaimed, blindly thrusting the purchases of his customer into their hands and making his way towards her, "You're fucking back!"

She nodded, then bit her lip to stop it shaking before she did something she would never have expected herself to do. She threw her arms around Eddie and hugged him. Feeling his strong tattooed arms wrap around her and hug her back was the most reassuring feeling in the world.

"That was a pretty lame-ass attempt at running away, if you don't mind me saying," Eddie joked, trying to lighten things up as he sensed Jessie's emotionality and glanced around the store at the handful of customers that were still hanging around.

He guided her into the back room and sat her down.

"I'll be right back, kid. Okay?"

She nodded, dumbly. The numb feeling she had gotten sitting in that room opposite Andie was, as yet, unshakable.

Once Eddie had gotten rid of his final punters, he came back into the room and sat down next to her. He touched her shoulder.

"Jessie... what's happened? Where have you been?"
"I thought... ." Jessie struggled to put her words together, "I thought I'd find something. I thought I had something to find. But I didn't. I don't have anything. Everything I have is here. It isn't much but... it's my only option. I had to make sure it was still here"
"You aren't making a lot of sense, Hon. Does your Dad know you're back?"

She looked at him.

"I don't even know if he knew I went away."
"He's probably worried sick"

Jessie smiled, scornfully.

"I doubt that," she said, "That's why I couldn't go to Ollie's. I couldn't face him. I could only think to come here."
"You can always come here."
"I know. Thank you."
"Anytime," said Eddie, dismissively. "Listen, Billie Joe came in here looking for you, the day after you left."

Jessie looked up in surprise. She felt a knot of fear tighten in her stomach at the mention of his name.

"He did?" she asked, her eyes wide, "... What did he tell you?"
"Nothing," Eddie lied, smoothly. "Just that he was worried about you. Really worried. The kid was a mess."
"Really?" Jessie whispered, in amazement, a lump rising in her throat.
"Really," Eddie emphasized, "Jessie, you've got a friend there. I know you guys have had your... issues. But he cares about you. Don't throw that away."
"I'm afraid to go back."
"I know," said Eddie, "But c'mon, you're Jessie! You're kick-ass and brave and stuff. You'll be okay. And... I don't know if you knew this but, by the sounds of it, stuffs been goin' on over at your place. Your Dad and Billie Joe's Mom have split up."
"Oh my God... "

Jessie felt terror sweep through her. Ollie knew. Her father was going to kill her. Noticing the look on her face, Eddie put a large hand over Jessie's small one.

"I think you and Billie Joe have some stuff you need to talk over" he said, quietly, "Don't you?"

Jessie nodded, silently.

"Alright," said Eddie, decisively, "Let's go get in the car."

Jessie looked at him quizzically.

"We're going to Gilman Street," he explained, "Where else are you expecting to find the guy?"

Walking down Gilman Street alongside Eddie was a lot less scary than last time. In fact, Jessie thought that doing anything scary next to Eddie would probably make it easier. He was one of those kind of guys that nobody was going to try and mess with.

Turning up at 924, Jessie's stomach gave a little lurch as she noticed Tre outside the door, leaning against the wall with a joint between his fingers. He didn't notice them right away, not until they got close to him and Eddie said,
"Look who I found"

Tre looked up instantly at the sound of Eddie's voice, and his eyes widened when they took in Jessie.

"Oh my God!" he exclaimed.
"Hey Tre," said Jessie, nervously.
"Where the fucking hell have you been?" Tre demanded, in a tone that would have sounded angry had he not accompanied it by pulling Jessie into a hug so tight it stole her breath. She hugged him back, relieved.
"I've been away," she said, rather pointing out the obvious, "But I'm back now."
"For good?"
"I... I think so."

Tre released her, and a look passed between them as they realized they hadn't spoken to each other since that afternoon Tre had met her outside of school. The afternoon that changed everything.

"Well," said Eddie, lightly, sensing the tension in the atmosphere, "No offense, but I don't need you kids crampin' my style round this place. I've got a rep to keep up. I'll be inside."
"Okay," Jessie smiled gratefully, before he headed inside the club.

She turned back to look at Tre, feeling nervous. Did he know what had happened between her and Billie Joe? Was he mad at her? He didn't look mad.

"Jessie," he said, dropping his spent joint to the ground and taking both her hands in his, "I was really fuckin' worried. Everyone was."
"I'm sorry," said Jessie, softly, "I had to."

Tre nodded.

"I know. I heard about... what's been goin' on with your Dad and shit."

Jessie's head snapped up.

"Billie didn't tell me," Tre assured her, quickly, "I found out cause I walked in on them arguing."

He didn't want to tell Jessie about the extent of the arguing. He didn't need her worrying even more than she was already. But she worried anyway.

"Look Jessie, I'm so fuckin' sorry about the way things worked out between us. I didn't mean to make out the band was more important than you are, I just... "
"I know," said Jessie, cutting him off, the guilt tearing her up as it became obvious that Tre had no idea about what had been going on between her and Billie Joe, "Let's forget it. I don't wanna fall out over it. I need a friend right now and... you're a friend... right?"

Tre smiled.

"Of course, right," he said, "And I'm totally stoked you came to see us play."

Jessie grinned.

"You'd better be damn good," she said.
"We always are," Tre smirked, "We're practically the Gods of Punk, after all."

Jessie laughed, as one of the guys that worked at the club stuck his head out of the door and yelled at Tre that he was needed on stage.

"I'll tell BJ you're here."
"No," said Jessie, quickly, feeling another flicker of nerves, "No, you're due on stage, it'll only hold you guys up. I'll see him myself when you're done."
"Ok," Tre nodded.

He hugged her again

"I'm so fuckin' glad you're back."

"Where the frickin' hell is Tre?" Mike asked Billie Joe as they set up the stage, "He's been gone ages."
"I dunno, I think he just went for a smoke," Billie Joe shrugged, "He'll be back soon."

Looking out at the packed out club, Billie Joe's guts tightened a little in nervous anticipation, before his eyes settled on Eddie and he smiled, giving him a nod of acknowledgment. Plugging in his guitar, he strummed it experimentally, satisfied by the distorted chord that blared out of the PA and elicited an already-drunken cheer from the people down in the front. He grinned.

"Hey guys," said Tre, cheerily, leaping onto the stage with his drumsticks in his hands and drumming on Mike's back as he passed. Mike looked relieved.
"Ok guys," he said, "We're all set"

Jessie still didn't know an awful lot about punk music, not nearly as much as Eddie and Billie Joe would have liked anyway, but she could tell that since Tre Cool had joined the band, they had gotten a whole lot better.

Standing next to Eddie amongst the crowd, she watched Billie Joe leap about the stage, shirtless and sweaty with his baseball cap back to front and she grinned, feeling something a little like pride, even though she knew Billie Joe wasn't hers to be proud of. The rest of the crowd were loving it too, singing along to their older songs, and jumping about like crazy to their newer ones.

Eddie leaned down so that he could talk in Jessie's ear, over the noise of the club.

"Why didn't you tell me they were this fucking good?" he asked, incredulously.

Jessie laughed.

"You like 'em?"
"They're awesome!" he grinned, "I don't care what you say about Billie Joe anymore. That kid is oozing talent. They all are!"

Jessie smiled as she watched them

"I know," she said.

Finishing their song, Billie Joe breathlessly surveyed the room as it cheered him on, not quite able to believe how many people they had crammed into such a small space. He used to be able to name pretty much everyone in the crowd, usually old friends of theirs, or of their families, kids from school, people who knew them and felt obliged to come watch them play. But not now. Half the people packed into that room were complete strangers, and had come because they'd heard they were good, and that was an awesome feeling.

Switching his distortion with the scuffed toe of his high tops ready for the next song, he glanced up and saw Eddie in the crowd, taller than most that were there. He was relieved to see that he looked impressed. He watched him lean down to talk to the person at his side, and his heart stopped.

Mike glanced over at Billie Joe in confusion as he noticed his friend seemed to be suddenly frozen to the spot, staring straight ahead unflinchingly, as the crowd grew impatient. What the hell was he doing? This was no time for a sudden attack of stage fright.

Billie Joe decided he was seeing things. He had to be. He really needed to get a grip. This wasn't healthy. This show was too important to fuck up just cause he was screwed in the head. But then the crowd parted a little and he knew. He wasn't seeing things. It was her, actually her. For a moment he was too shocked to do anything at all, and Jessie stared right back at him, a worried face amongst all the confused ones. Billie Joe reached for the microphone.

"Uh... ok, we're gonna take a kinda intermission," he said, "Don't anyone fucking... go... anywhere."

With that, he pulled his guitar strap over his head and set it down in its stand.

"Billie!" Mike yelled, over the noise of the crowd, "What the fuck?!"
"It's Jessie!" he yelled back.
"Huh?"
"Down in the crowd! With Eddie! I just need to talk to her!"

Leaping off the stage, Billie Joe found himself amongst a sea of welcoming bodies. Pushing his way towards the back of the room, he was intercepted by a tall guy stepping out in front of him, stopping him suddenly by pushing a hand against his chest.

"Hold up there, Man," the guy said.

Billie Joe looked up at him, momentarily distracted from his mission.

"You kids are fucking good. Really good."
"Thanks," said Billie Joe.

Normally he would have been thrilled to be told that by a complete stranger, but right then the words barely touched him.

"Uh, look Dude, I'm really sorry, but I've gotta-"
"Wait," said the guy, stopping him again, just as Mike and Tre appeared behind him, "I've gotta talk to you guys. My name's Andy. I work for Lookout Records."

Three pairs of worshiping eyes stared instantly back at him. None of them dared to breathe, or even blink, in case when they opened their eyes again he would be gone.

"Listen, guys," said Andy, putting an arm around Mike's shoulders and bringing him in closer, "I heard you guys were good. I was all the way down in LA today and I flew up just to see you guys play tonight. And I have to say, you haven't disappointed."

Billie Joe glanced at Mike and Tre. His heart was beating very fast.

"So, I was wondering," Andy continued, "If you boys would be interested in making a record with me."
"Yes!" spluttered Tre, after a moment, when Billie Joe and Mike failed to form words, "Yes!"

Andy grinned.

"Awesome."

"What do you suppose they're doing?" Jessie asked Eddie, confused.
"Beats me," he shrugged, taking another sip of his beer, "They just disappeared"

After waiting a couple more minutes, Jessie was growing impatient along with the rest of the crowd. She was ready to go searching for the guys herself, when she saw Billie Joe, pushing his way through the crowd towards her.

It was strange, but seeing him there, in front of her, brought with it feelings that she hadn't expected to feel. Her breath hitched a little in her throat and her stomach fluttered as the memories of the last time he had been standing in front of her came flooding back. She was suddenly overcome with nervousness, unable to predict how he was going to react. There was so much riding on this moment. She had returned to Berkeley to find out if she still had a home here, and she was about to find out.

"Jessie!" Billie Joe yelled, as he approached her, frantically pushing his way closer, "Jessie!"

She looked at him, afraid to breathe.

"Hey Billi-"

She didn't get a chance to finish. When he threw his arms around her, it shocked her so much her words got lost somewhere on the way out of her mouth. Her arms went around his neck as they hugged, her heart pounding as she realized Eddie had been right. He had wanted her to come back.

"I'm so sorry," he said, into her ear, "I'm so, so fucking sorry."
"I'm sorry too," she said, honestly, "It's... we're both to blame... "
"No," he said, earnestly, pulling away from her and looking her straight in the eye. She felt a warm, sweaty hand close around hers, "I read your note... I understand... I was... fuck, I was an insensitive jerk, Jessie. And I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry I left" she said, "It was just... everything... it was too much. I had to... "
"It doesn't matter" he said, with a shake of his head, "You're back now... right?"

She nodded.

"Think we can... get past all this shit?" Billie Joe asked her, nervously.

Jessie smiled a little.

"We can try," she said, "I'd like to try. I could use a friend."
"Yeah, well... you got one," Billie Joe said, with a smile.

She smiled back. Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Billie Joe awkwardly dragged his eyes away from hers.

Jessie giggled.

"I like your hair," she said.