Faded Memories on the Wall

January 1998

I was nervous. Admittedly, I was very nervous.

I entered the café we had decided upon, wondering if he was there yet or not. My question was answered when I heard excited whispers coming from a table near the door. Two teenage girls were whispering and pointing to a table further inside the restaurant and following their gaze I found three familiar faces seated around a table. Billie Joe was even wearing a baseball cap as though attempting to blend in with a crowd.

My breath hitched in my throat at the sight of all three members of Green Day; it had been a very long time and I really had missed them all.

I made my way over to the group, Tré was the first to spot me and he jumped to his feet to pull me into a hug.

“It’s my Evie-girl,” he exclaimed happily, but I was pleased to see a hint of nervousness in his eyes; I think we were all hoping that this wouldn’t be too terribly awkward.

“Hey Billie,” I muttered as he also stood to wrap his arms around me in greeting.

“How are you gorgeous?” the guitarist asked as we all took our seats.

“I’m really good,” I nodded along with my own response. “Life’s good.”

“The guys wanted to see you so badly that they thought they’d come down for their lunch break between meetings too,” Mike explained, even though it wasn’t entirely necessary.

“I’m glad you all came,” I said, glancing between the three of them. “It’s been way too long since we’ve seen each other.”

A waitress came over to take our orders then, giving me a second to sort through the millions of thoughts zooming around my head. Grabbing onto one that seemed safe as the girl walked away, “So, how’s the rock star life going?” I asked.

“It’s fucking fantastic,” Tré grinned.

“Yeah it’s good,” Billie Joe laughed. “But I hear you’re not a fan of our latest single,” he smirked and my mouth dropped open.

“I…never…” I turned my head to throw Mike an indignant look.

“Whoa,” he held his hands up in defence. “I didn’t say you didn’t like it.”

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to come up with some kind of explanation. The jokes and teasing seemed to loosen us up and we all relaxed easily into conversation. After the waitress brought our food over the topic somehow turned to what I had been doing since they had seen me last.

“I moved back over this side of the bay when I fell pregnant,” I explained, easily forgetting that they didn’t yet know about Drake. Their shock was evident by their wide eyes and open mouths.

“You have a kid?” Mike asked, his eyebrows high.

“Well, yeah,” I felt very self conscious all of a sudden. “So do all of you! Right?”

They all politely composed themselves as I was clearly making them for guilty for being so shocked.

“So who’s the baby-Daddy?” Tré said, appearing very curious.

“Yeah, is he around?” Mike added. All eyes were fixed on me intently and I sighed when I realized that I was going to have to tell the whole story.

“I haven’t seen the father since before I even realised I was pregnant,” I began quietly. “We had been dating for about 8 months or so when I found him having sex with another friend of ours.” I didn’t look up from the plate of food in front of me; I definitely did not want to see their reactions. “When I confronted him about it he got insanely angry, he pushed me around a bit and I left him. Haven’t seen him since.”

“He hit you?” Mike looked absolutely furious and when I moved my eyes to look at Billie Joe and Tré I saw that they were all displaying similar emotions.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it,” I plastered a smile on my face, attempting to lighten the mood. “I got my angel Drake out of it so it’s all okay.” I rummaged in my purse to find a picture, passing it first to Mike so they could all have a look. “He’ll be 4 in a few months.”

“He’s adorable,” Mike muttered and the others murmured their agreement, yielding my request to not discuss the more distressing details of Drake’s coming into the world.

“Want to see my pretty girl?” Tré grinned, whipping out his wallet to show me a picture of a child similar in age to Drake. “Her name’s Ramona.”

I smiled at the name choice and as I gushed over the gorgeous girl, Mike and Billie Joe passed over photos of their own children; it was nice to have the conversation steer in a positive direction, all four of us apparently completely smitten with our offspring.

Mike was cut short from talking about Estella’s crazy sleeping patterns when his cell phone began to ring. He unclipped the device from his belt and held it up in apology.

“Sorry guys,” he began to stand. “I better take this; I’m expecting a call from Ana, or my divorce lawyer.”

As he left the room, pulling out the phone’s aerial and placing it against his ear, I turned to the others.

“Divorce?”

“Yeah,” Billie sighed, poking at his food. “It’s been a bit of a mess actually.”

“How long have they been separated? Estella’s so young.”

“Well they were having shitloads of issues before they even had Stella and got married.”

“I think having a kid just kinda masked their problems,” Billie added.

“That’s horrible,” I murmured.

“But anyway,” Tré attempted to get us away from the less than pleasant topic. “It really is so good to see you again Evie dear.”

“I agree,” I said while Billie simply murmured his agreement. “It’s pretty weird though.”

“I can’t believe how long it’s been since we spoke,” Tré spoke sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” I was starting to feel uncomfortable, and from the way Billie’s eyes were glued to the salt and pepper shakers I wasn’t the only one.

“For not keeping in touch, I was a shitty friend.”

“No you weren’t Tré; it was bound to happen that way. Music comes first, it was always the case.”

“Not really,” he insisted. “You and me were best friends before Green Day.”

“We were before Tré Cool was Green Day’s drummer, not before Green Day or before you were friends with Mike. And I didn’t exactly make the effort to contact you either. Let’s just forget about it, we’re here now right?” I looked at the both of them, attempting to get a smile and some positive recognition of what I was saying.

“I guess you’re right,” Tré conceded.

“She is definitely fucking right,” Billie Joe finally looked up from his food. “Just like the good ol’ days,” he winked at me.

“The good ol’ days were the greatest,” Tré smiled mischievously. “Which is why you have to come to our show in a couple of weeks.”

***

The next items that I found in “the box” brought forth the strangest feelings. They kind of marked the beginning of our relationship I guess, or at least the beginning of our admittance of our feelings for each other. The notes made me recall all of the feelings I had felt that day; happiness, unease, dread, excitement and queasiness.

These are to make your head feel less like it’s stuck in a vice and your mouth taste less like the inside of a toilet. Maybe that one will come in handy when I get back and we can give that kissing thing a try again.

***

July 1991

The warmth of the sun on my face made me stir, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t find a single cool patch on my pillow. My stomach churned as I began to gain consciousness, turning over in my half-sleep in an attempt to get comfortable enough to return to that state of slumber that I had been in a few minutes before. I immediately regretted the movement, which caused my head to throb in pain and I realised my body was doing everything possible to punish me for the events of the night previous.

Giving in to the day, I moved slowly to sit up and looking around at unfamiliar surroundings, I wasn’t entirely sure where I was. I felt the skin of my legs slide together as I sat up, causing a jolt of panic to run through me; I wasn’t wearing any pants. Eyes wide, I looked down at my body, finding simply a large plain black t-shirt and what I’m pretty sure were the panties I had put on the day before in preparation of going out.

What the fuck have I done? I thought, almost scared to find out the answer. And with who?

There was no one else in the bed, thank god, but the more I looked around the room, the more familiar it was becoming; I had definitely been there before. I lay back flat on the bed, stretching my arms out and flopping them onto the sheets in exhaustion. One hand brushed something cold and on closer inspection I found a piece of paper, possibly torn out of a notebook of some kind, a note scrawled across it addressed to me.

Evie,

I have to go to band practice but I didn’t want to wake you. I hope you’re feeling okay, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink that much. Don’t stress out if you don’t remember anything from last night, nothing happened. But we’ll talk about that later. For now, go back to sleep, no point getting up and attempting to make it back to your dorm with the hangover I imagine you’re experiencing.

Mike

Finding who the letter was from caused my heart to race, I had been thinking about him more and more lately and the thought that something remotely embarrassing had happened while I was evidently completely wasted was kind of terrifying. I read the note over and over a couple more times, smiling at a little stupid happy face he had drawn next to where his name was signed at the bottom. The smile was short-lived however due to the pressing need to remember what events had led to me waking up in Mike’s bed half-naked.

I wanted desperately to find my clothes and get home before Mike returned, but he was right – I really wasn’t in any state to do so. Instead I shuffled around under the sheets again to get comfortable, and tried to grab a hold of the hazy memories and thoughts that were acting like a whirlwind in my mind.

I remembered the getting ready portion of the evening, and clambering into Tré’s car with John and Kelly, and the walking up the garden path of our friend Jack’s house; his parents had gone to visit some of their relatives in some distant location and so he was celebrating having the house to himself by having our little group round for drinks. I even remembered the first couple of hours of the gathering, all of us sitting around in Jack’s living room, a cloud of smoke settled over us and music blaring from the stereo he had dragged down from his room. John had managed to get his hands on a heap of alcohol and Billie Joe had supplied the weed; and that’s really all I could recall.

Straining my mind to remember anything that could have led to my current situation, I desperately sifted through the memories of various mundane and unrelated conversations until the night eventually began to come back to me in drips and drabs.

“Oh shit,” I murmured aloud to myself suddenly wishing I could forget again.

“I need the bathroom,” I exclaimed loudly, getting unsteadily to my feet and prompting laughter from the other people in the room when I almost fell down again.

“Do you need a hand there?” Mike’s simultaneously concerned and amused voice asked from next to me as he stood and steadied me with a hand on my arm. “You don’t look like you could even walk.”

“Yes please,” I smiled and he led me to the small washroom down the hall.

When I was done with my business I found Mike resting against a wall just outside the door waiting for me. “You’re a sweetheart,” I told him as I fell against his chest.

I felt him chuckle and pull me to my feet, wrapping a strong arm around my waist.

“How about some fresh-air?” He suggested, already leading me toward the backyard.

We stood against the railing of the porch in silence for a few moments, enjoying the cool breeze that was blowing through the yard. I turned to face Mike, smiling up at him shyly.

“What?” he laughed, unsure as to why I was smiling.

“You’re eyes are so pretty and blue and amazing,” the words tumbled from my mouth, I didn’t even realise what I was saying.

Mike chuckled a little, taking a step closer and taking my hand in his. “Thanks Evie, your eyes are nice too.”

The smile slid from my face and I lent forward – before bending over and retching, chucking up right there on Mike’s shoes.

The memory seemed to stop there, as though my mind was trying to pretend that that disgusting and terribly embarrassing moment didn’t happen and was refusing to let me see the outcome. I couldn’t close my eyes and try to get back to sleep. I was laying there flat on my back, staring at the ceiling in complete doubt and frustration over what had happened and how little I could remember. I was hoping but still doubtful, that the vomit was the worst of what I had done in my drunken state and this doubt was justified when the next portion of the evening came flooding back to me.

“Um Evie,” Mike was saying, pulling me back in the other direction. “That’s a wall.”

I giggled and allowed myself to be directed through a door, hearing Mike close it behind me. Looking around I found myself to be in his bedroom.

“You brought me to your room Mikey?” I teased, taking a seat on his bed and fluttering my eyelashes in direction. “Want me that bad huh?”

“After you just chucked on my shoes?” He took a step towards me. “I like you Evie, but not that much.”

“You like me” I couldn’t help but blush.

“Of course I do.”

“I like you too,” I grinned up at him, finding him completely irresistible; even more irresistible in my drunken state than I did on any other day.

“I’m going to go brush my teeth, you jump into bed, and you can wear a t-shirt of mine or something if you want.”

An idea hit me as he left the room and I set about immediately putting it into action. When Mike returned from the bathroom, it was to find me laying atop of the beds covers, and apart from my underwear which covered the important bits, I was naked.

“Holy crap Evie,” he exclaimed upon seeing me. “What are you doing?”

I jumped from the bed, grinning cheekily and wrapping my arms around my neck, oblivious to his protests. I leaned in to latch my lips onto his, savouring the minty freshness they offered.

He broke the kiss quickly, dislodging my arms from around him and taking a step back, causing my face to fall at the rejection.

“You taste like vomit,” I couldn’t help but chuckle a little, even though I was feeling pretty crushed by his reaction.

“Well then we won’t kiss,” I ran my hands over his shoulders and down his arms. “We can do other stuff though,” I spoke suggestively.

“I am not going to sleep with you,” He confused me completely for a second by following this up by removing the shirt he was wearing. “Put this on and cover yourself up.”

I sadly complied, fighting back tears at the sting of his words. “Why won’t you sleep with me?”

“Because you are drunk.”

“So are you!” I insisted as he stepped out of his jeans, standing in just his boxer shorts.

“I am no where near as wasted as you are my friend,”

I pouted at him as he took my hand and pulled me down onto the bed. Allowing myself to be guided into his arms, I soon found myself horizontal with Mike’s semi naked body pressed up behind me.

“I like you a lot Evie,” he murmured in my ear, sliding his arm around my waste. “But I am not going to let you do something like that when you won’t even remember it in the morning. Now get some sleep.”

The embarrassment of completely throwing myself at him while wearing practically nothing mingled with the pleasantness of falling asleep wrapped in his arms to create a sort of numbness in me, I didn’t know what to feel. In frustration, I rolled onto my side, a collection of items on Mike’s bedside table catching my eye.

Sitting up once more, I moved to find a glass of water, a bottle of aspirin, a toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste and a small note that had me forgetting my hangover and grinning from ear to ear.