No One Knows

When had he been planning on telling her? When their stuff was being impounded? When they were sleeping outside in the gutter? Her mind was reeling and her blood was coursing through her veins so fast that it made the paper in her hands shake. She knew she couldn't confront him while she was like this. Not after what happened the last time.

She went straight to her room and stayed there the rest of the night. Right then, she was so angry she couldn't even look at him, let alone talk to him. Besides, part of her was really afraid of what he'd say when she did. Pretending everything was fine and hoping their problems would go away wasn't going to work, they'd learned that lesson the hard way. But, for some reason, she just couldn't stop.

He was still asleep when she left for school the next morning, and when she got there she couldn't concentrate on a thing. What use is geometry if you've nowhere to live? She didn't particularly want to be able to calculate the dimensions of the cardboard box she'd be sleeping in.

She stuck it out for an hour before slinking off towards the back of the gym so that she could work out the whole nightmare in her head and plan how she was going to broach the subject with her Dad. She was almost there when she remembered what Freddy had said about the teachers wising up to their hiding place, and she decided to head to the spot outside the school where she'd met him the day her Dad... lost his job.

Turned out he'd had the same idea. She saw him sitting there when she came around the corner. She hadn't expected that, but for once she didn't really mind. She figured it might help take her mind off things. He didn't say anything as she sat down next to him, and neither did she. But that wasn't unusual. He just held out his cigarette packet by way of offering, and she shook her head. He nodded, then pulled an open bag of M&Ms out of his back pack and offered her those instead. She smiled and took one.

They sat in silence for a minute or two, watching the cars go by and an old man having a conversation with his dog, before he turned to her and said,
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not talking to you."

She looked up, raising her eyebrows.

"Y'know, actually, I hadn't noticed," she said, wryly, "Any reason?"
"Any reason?! You accosting me in your record store? Isn't that enough of a reason?"

She laughed.

"Accosting? Well, I told you I wasn't scared of you."
"Yeah, well," he said, sulkily, dragging on his cigarette, "I guess you showed me. You're a hundred percent scarier than I'll ever be."

She couldn't help but grin in satisfaction, even though she had no idea whether that was really a compliment or not.

"So what you doing out here?" he asked her.
"Thought you weren't speaking to me."
"I'm not very good at not speaking."
"I've noticed that."
"Apparently I have a short attention span."
"You don't say?"
"You haven't answered my question. It's not so short I didn't spot that..."

She leaned back against the fence.

"I just couldn't concentrate today. I was in a shitty mood."
"Well, that makes a change."

She gave him a look.

"So why the shitty mood?"
"Ahh....just....a lot on my mind."

He could tell she wasn't going to talk about it, so he just offered her another M&M. She took one, and looked up at him with a grateful smile. He smiled back and she got a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach that was definitely familiar, but one that she hadn't felt in a long time. It wasn't so long she didn't recognize it though. She felt like she had a friend.

That afternoon she went home fully intending to confront her father about what she had found. She had taken time on the walk home to mentally prepare herself for seeing him, because she knew she might have a fight on her hands.

She could hear voices upstairs. It surprised her because usually when she got home from school he was either out somewhere or he might as well be, for all the conversation that took place. She assumed it was one of his asshole friends so decided to sit outside in the backyard until the coast was clear. She took with her a magazine and a glass of juice, but hadn't been sitting there long before he came out of the back door for a smoke. It always amused her how much of a courteous smoker he was, never smoking in the house or around other people, despite how selfish he was in pretty much every other aspect of his life that she could think of.

"Hey, how was school?" he asked her, putting his cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.
"Ok" she said, eying him closely in an attempt to assess his mood before she fell victim to it.

He wasn't giving much away, he never did, but he had a sort of calm about him that told her it was safe to talk to him. She knew that was a good thing, but she couldn't help it from irritating her. What the fuck did they have to be calm about?

"Who were you talking to?" she asked, eventually.

He looked over at her.

"What?"
"I thought I heard voices."
"You did," he said, taking another drag on his cigarette.

Jesus Christ. Talk about blood from a stone.

"Who was it?" she asked, hesitantly.

He looked vaguely irritated by her line of questioning, and she felt her stomach flutter from nerves. But then he took his cigarette out of his mouth and answered her.

"I have a friend over," he said, "....A girlfriend."

Well, she hadn't been expecting that. Since when had he had a girlfriend? He hadn't been out with a woman in years. As far as she knew. And if she was honest, she didn't want to know much. The thought of it weirded her out more than a little. And not only that, but who would want to go out with him? It sounded a cruel thing to think about her own father, but it was a valid point. He wasn't exactly what you'd call a great catch.

She didn't particularly mind him having girlfriends, or she wouldn't if they were nice. But nice people didn't want to hang out with her Dad and she'd found that out the hard way in the past.

"We've been seeing each other a couple of months," he continued slowly, when she failed to say anything in response to his revelation.

A couple of months? This person had put up with him for a couple of months? There had to be something wrong with her. As she took this new information in, she looked back on his recent behavior and felt worried. The past couple of months had been hell. He'd been fifty times as bad as usual, he'd lost his job and he'd even....she swallowed. What if it was all something to do with this new woman? What if she was even worse than he was? What if she was the problem, and had been the whole time?

Her thoughts were broken by the sound of footsteps in the kitchen and then a figure coming out of the back door. It looked like she was about to get some answers to the many questions buzzing through her mind. At first glance, the woman didn't appear to be Satan in human form and that was a relief. She didn't look immediately like an alcoholic or drug addict either so, so far, so good. In fact, she looked pretty much normal, which surprised Jessie the most. Small, dark curly hair, a nervous expression. But Jessie knew she couldn't be normal, and she wasn't about to be fooled.

The woman looked at her with surprise in her eyes that told Jessie she was just as unprepared for their impromptu meeting as she was.

"Uhmm, this is my daughter...Jessie" her dad said, gesturing towards her with his cigarette.

The woman smiled, nervously.

"Hi Jessie," she said, "... I'm Ollie."

*** *** ***

Since she had dropped her little bombshell a few days previously, relations between Billie Joe and his mother had been strained to say the least. He didn't care what the apparent circumstances were, or whichever way she tried to justify it, he didn't want that asshole living in his house.

He was sitting on the dirty floor of Mahubay Gardens on Gilman Street that Friday night, leaning back against the damp wall, drowning his sorrows, and watching an amateur high school punk band struggle their way through Sheena Was A Punk Rocker. They started badly, but somehow managed to pull it all together part way through before finishing with a triumphant stage dive that elicited a cheer from the watching crowd and a smile from Billie Joe. Sometimes he wished he could just set up home on Gilman Street, spend all his time in the company of these people, and never have to go out into the real world to face nagging mothers and their dickhead boyfriends.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone take a seat down beside him. Before he had turned to see who it was, a spliff was being waved in front of his face and he was accepting it with a grin. He turned to its owner.

"Hey Tre."
"Hey Man, whatcha doing down here?"
"Drinking," he replied, bringing Tre's joint to his lips, ".....And smoking."

Tre nodded, with a smile. The humid air had made his spiky hair clump together and hang over his forehead. He pushed it out of the way as he turned to Billie Joe, his blue eyes half closed, pupils dilated.

"Jeez, I haven't been this fucked since......Last week, when I got piss-ass drunk..."

Billie Joe smiled lazily, and passed Tre his joint back.

"You look pretty wasted, dude," he agreed.
"So do you."
"Touche"

The two boys smiled vaguely as they watched a new band set up on the stage, each of them lost in their own thoughts, their minds struggling with their own intoxication.

"Thought you might be playing tonight," Billie Joe commented.

His words were beginning to slur and his head felt heavy. He rested it in his hands, sliding his fingers into his damp hair.

"Nope," said Tre, wistfully, "I left the band."
"You did? But why? You were awesome!"

He shrugged.

"It was time," he said, "I mean, Jay's moving down to LA next month to go to college...I dunno. We decided to call it a day."
"Well that sucks."
"Yeah."
"Al's goin' to college too. In San Francisco. He only told us last week. We're gonna try and hold things together with the band and shit but....I don't know. I hope we can make it work cause if I don't have that band....fuck, man. I just...I've gotta have that band."

Tre looked at Billie Joe, concern in his eyes. He hadn't known the guy long, but he knew he wasn't his usual self. He tried to focus his foggy mind on finding a way to ask about it without sounding like he was butting in but during the pause in conversation that followed he was distracted by one of his former band mates standing over him with his arms folded and an eyebrow raised. That was when he remembered that before he had been sidetracked by his conversation with Billie Joe, he had been sent on a mission to find more beer, something that had completely flown from his mind, or become obscured by all the haze that was floating about in it.

He smiled apologetically at Billie Joe, before being pulled off the floor and heading back off into the crowd, leaving Billie Joe alone again, soaking up the atmosphere by himself.

He realized he was still holding Tre's joint and he didn't think Tre would remember to come back for it, so he smoked the rest and then leaned his head back against the cool wall, letting the hazy feeling take him over. He was losing his focus. He tried to keep his eyes looking straight ahead, locked on the singer of the band, because if he moved them even slightly to either side he felt like he might fall over.

Suddenly, his view of the stage was obscured by a figure crouching down in front of him, and then he found himself staring into a pair of heart-stopping dark brown eyes that were twinkling with amusement. He would have been surprised, if the dope hadn't taken away the ability to feel anything like surprise.

"Hey," she said, watching him with a smile.
"Hey... " he replied slowly. He had thought being stoned was making it hard to have a conversation, but now there was a pretty girl thrown into the mix it was difficult getting words out at all.
"You look pretty baked."
"You know... .I am," he smiled.

It took every bit of stamina he had left to scoot over and make room for her next to him, but he figured it might be worth it.

"I know you," she smiled, teasingly, "You sing in Sweet Children."

She recognized him? He felt a rush of excitement and pride.

"Yeah... " he said, smiling. "You've seen us play?"
"Yeah, lotsa times," she said, "You guys are really great. My name's Billie, by the way."

He looked confused.

"My names Billie... ." He muttered, sounding unsure.
"No, I said, my name's Billie. What's yours?"
"Billie."

She giggled.

"You really are drunk, huh?"
"Wait," he said, "Your name's Billie? My name is also Billie. Billie Joe."

She laughed.

"Well, you know what Billie Joe; it looks like this was fate."
"It was?" he smiled, goofily.
"Yeah," she grinned.

He stared at her, his eyes glazed. She was so beautiful, that keeping his eyes still wasn't an option any more. They just wanted to roam all over her. It made him forget that he was keeping his eyes still for a reason, and before he knew it the mucky tiled floor was coming up towards him and smacking him on the head.

"Shit," said his namesake, giggling again as she lowered her face to look at him in his position on the floor. "Are you ok, Billie Joe?"
"Mmmm. Perfect," he smiled, "I'll be fine. Don't leave though."
"That's ok. I won't," she smiled back, "Unless you want me to get you some water?"
"Water would be good," he said, "But you have to promise you'll come back. I mean, it's fate, remember? You can't leave now."
"Ok," she laughed, mussing up his damp hair, "Don't go anywhere."

Like that was an option. His muscles seemed to have checked out completely. He watched her as she walked away, keeping his eyes on the movement of her hips and the way her curly dark hair bounced as she walked, and feeling a flicker of excitement in the pit of his stomach.

He must have blacked out for a while, because next thing he knew he was being shaken awake and pulled into a sitting position, a glass of water pressed into his hand. He groaned slightly, putting a hand to his head, which now had an interesting selection of pieces of crap from the club floor stuck to it. He raised the cool glass to his lips, feeling relief as the water went down his throat.

"Thanks," he managed to get out, leaning back against the wall. "Can I go back to my floor now?"
"No," she giggled, "I just stood in line at the bar for like ten minutes for you. You could at least try and keep conscious."

He gave her a crooked smile.

"I am trying," he smiled, drunkenly, "But the dope's more powerful than I am."

She grinned, scooting closer to him and brushing some of the dust out of his hair. He tried to focus on her face, but it just wasn't happening.

"You know, you have really pretty eyes, Billie Joe," she said, with a slight smile.
"I do?"

Nobody had ever told him he had pretty eyes before. Nobody had ever told him he had pretty anything before, as far as he could remember.

"Mmm," she smiled, "I've never met anybody with real green eyes before."
"Lots of people have green eyes," he slurred.
"Not proper green," she insisted, "Not like yours."

He didn't really know what to say in response to that, and it might have been awkward had he been sober, or had she not solved the problem herself by leaning in and pressing her mouth against his.

She took him completely by surprise, so much so that he didn't even react right away, and his brain had only just kicked in and decided it might be a good idea to kiss back when he felt her hand slide into his hair, pulling him in closer as her tongue slid past his lips to graze against his. Wow. He was going to have to pass out on club floors more often if this was the effect it had on girls.

They were still on the floor making out a half hour later, and his mind was reeling with excitement and a degree of amazement that she had managed to keep him from passing out for this long. He definitely liked her style of doing things, that was for sure.

He was enjoying himself so much that when he felt the nudge of a shoe in his ribs he did his best to ignore it, but that only resulted in getting a harder one, and he looked up in irritation. Someone was standing over them, and he tried to make out who it was, but it seemed his eyes had had finally given up, realizing they weren't needed for his current activities, and stopped working completely.

"BJ, I hate to interrupt, but I have to be at school in five hours, man, I need to make tracks. Ya comin'?"
"Uhmmm..."

He looked from one of his companions to the other, unable to make out either face. He didn't want to leave Mike to go home by himself, but on the other hand....

It turned out he didn't have to think of a response anyway, because Billie answered for him.
"It's ok," she said, with a grin, "I'll make sure he gets home safe and all."

Mike looked skeptical.

"Billie Joe, can you even remember your address?"

He frowned in concentration.

"Maple Street..." he muttered.
"You haven't lived there for five years, man."
"Its written on my drivers license," he said, in sudden triumphant realization
.
Mike rolled his eyes.

"Ok," he said, "I'll see you around I guess. Keep safe, ok, dude?...Don't let him fall asleep in any gutter or anything, ok?"

She smiled.

"Don't worry," she said, "I'll take good care of him."

It was late by the time they left the club. Or early, depending on which way you wanted to look at it. They walked with their arms wrapped around each other, to keep from falling over because, by then, Billie Joe was beyond drunk.

"Wherearewegoing?" he mumbled into her ear as they zig-zagged down the middle of the street towards his house. The drivers license tip had worked, she knew where she was leading him.

"I'm taking you home and putting you to bed," she grinned, mischievously.

"Wellthat...sounds...fun," he giggled.

It was such a schoolgirl giggle that it made her do the same, which didn't help their attempts to walk in a straight line. The fact that they seemed to find everything so amusing didn't help them in trying to keep quiet when they got inside the house either, when Billie Joe sobered up just enough to realize that his mother would probably kill him if she woke up and saw how late it was, or how wasted he was, or that he had a random girl with him.

He clamped a hand over Billie's mouth to stifle her laughter as they tried to make it across the landing without crashing into anything, finally dissolving into hushed giggles when his bedroom door had closed behind them.

"I'm really, really drunk," he mumbled as she walked him backwards towards the bed. She smiled at the way he said it, like it was some sort of new revelation.
"I know."
"Are you trying to take advantage of me?" he smirked as he felt his back hit the bed and she climbed up over him.
"Well, that depends," she smiled, teasingly, "I mean, if you like I can tuck you into bed with a comforting mug of cocoa and then leave you alone."
"Hmm," he smiled, putting his hands on her waist and pulling her down towards him, "I think I'd rather you took advantage of me... seeing as this was fate, and all...."

Their kisses were getting pretty sloppy, teeth clashing and noses bumping as the alcohol continued its hold over them, but he was enjoying it all the same. He couldn't help feeling elated that he was about to get laid purely because he had gotten drunk and collapsed on the floor. He was never going to bother trying to impress girls with his wit and charm again.

The only thing concerning him slightly as she pulled off his clothes was that the excess of drugs and alcohol might inhibit his ability to, y'know, function in the department that mattered, but it turned out he didn't need to worry about that. Quite the opposite, they were both relieved to discover. In fact, the only thing they might have worried about was their increasing difficulty to keep the noise down, trying and failing to quieten each other with kisses as they reached their climax, before finally dissolving into sleepy drunken giggles that echoed through the darkness.