Paper Lanterns

After a bit, it was around 11:30, so I decided to leave. I wandered around and found Mike before the door so I went over to him, not noticing Billie's skeptical glares at Mike.

"Uh.. Mike?"

"Yeah Grace?"

"Thanks for your offer. I'd really like to take you up on it now, if you don't mind.. I think I should tell you.. uh.. yeah."

"Oh, yeah. I'll be right back, man," he turned to Billie, and handed him his beer. We walked out to the front yard, sitting in the grass.

"Okay now, I've never actually told anybody this before.. But I need to before I explode."

Mike nodded and I kept talking.

"You know that Billie's dad died when we were ten, right? Well, it started after that. He'd get irritable, and I totally understood, and gave him all the time and space he needed."

"It was hard on him"

"I know.. I know. Then two years later, my mom, Gloria, was hit by some jackass on her way home from work, and died on impact."

"Grace, I'm so sorry.. You don't have to go on," he told me, seeing as I was nearing tears.

I wasn't going to cry. I was way past the mindless sobbing; now it was just hate and general anger.

"That's not the worst part though. Billie came over the day I got the news, and I was.. Emotional. In tears. All that shit.. He said, and I quote, 'it couldn't have been that bad,' and that I haven't felt the pain of losing a parent. So I snapped.. couldn't even tell him. My brother did," I stared at the ground, carefully wiping away the threatening tears.

"That insensitive, selfish bastard."

"I know. And lately, he's been coming around, like he's done nothing wrong. I'm not going to act like nothing happened, I'm not going to forgive him."

"Would you ever consider thinking about forgiving a selfish asshole like me?" I looked up to see Billie.

"When hell freezes over," I spat, "I'll see you later Mike."

I got up, brushed myself off, and walked the block to my car. When I got in, I buckled up and lightly banged my head on the steering wheel a few times, then just left it there.

I heard a knock on the window, and I jumped. Billie had followed me back. He got in the passenger door, and I opened my mouth to shout at him, but he beat me.

"Gray, I'm so sorry for everything I said that day."

Gray.. That was what he used to call me. Only him, because I wouldn't allow anyone other than my best friend. It'd been a long time since I'd been called that.

"I just don't get why you weren't compassionate like I was to you."

"I didn't know how to act! I'm a guy, and I pretty much freaked when I saw you crying like that."

"Why did you keep teasing me? I told you to fuck off so many times, but you never did."

"I just wanted to see you. I didn't want to lose all ties to my best friend."

"Ex-best friend," I corrected him.

"Well, I came here to ask you for a second chance. Friends?" He stared into my eyes, and I thought they were burning through my soul. I looked away, not liking where this was going.

"Acquaintances. You have to earn my trust and friendship. It isn't a given. Do you want a ride home?"

"No, thanks. I still need to get my stuff. It's back with Mike and John."

"I could drive you back to the party, and you could get your things.. So you don't have to ride with a drumset and shit," I smiled, trying to be warm.

"Okay. Thanks Gray."

"Billie, please don't call me that. Not yet.." He nodded, and was silent.

I drove up to the Sherman house, and waited for Billie to come back with his guitar, Blue. Ten minutes had passed, and he hadn't come out. I turned of the Trans AM, and went inside.

"Shut the fuck up, Kiftmeyer!'

"Who's gonna make me? Not like you ever could!"

"I can't belive you're quitting! Just like that! And to go to college of all places! You're a fucking disgrace, and a shitty drummer," Billie shouted. Everyone was watching the two guys verbally fighting in the living room of the house.

Nobody dared to get between them, and I can see why, from the glares Billie was shooting at John.

"Are you kidding me?!" Kiftmeyer yelled, "You're living in a dream! The band's never gonna make it big! We're never gonna get signed to a record label! We're never gonna get out of this town. I'm out."

With that, Billie Joe threw a hard right hook, and John Kiftmeyer was on the floor, and Billie ran past me with an amp and Blue, telling me to "Come on!"

I got back in the car, turned it on, and waited for Billie to get situated. Once he did, we were off.

"That fucking bastard. He can't just quit," he mumbled.

"He was a drummer, you said?"

"Yeah and a bad one at that."

"Well, Jeff and I met this kid at Amoeba a few weeks ago. He's a drummer that I've given lessons with a few times.. Uh. He calls himself Tre Cool, and he's pretty good. I'll give you his number so you can hit him up."

"Grace."

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"What?"

"You have no idea how much the band means to me. I can't believe you'd do this for me."

"Oh, I think I do, Beej. You've wanted it since you were nine. But sorry to say, I don't love you," I joked with him.

"God! I go out on a limb and confess my feelings for you, only to get shot down! I knew I should've been gay!" he huffed like a drama queen, trying not to laugh.

I pulled up outside Billie's house. "I'll see ya Monday," I told him after he got out.

"Yeah.. Monday."

"Bye," I waved, then he shut the door, and I drove home.

When I got in, my dad wasn't home, but Jeff was eating his dinner in front of the TV.

"Wow, you got back late. Coach pissed at you guys or something?" I asked, sitting beside him.

"No. My ride made a side trip to Rob's party."

"Oh.. Cool."

"Yeah. Up until I saw him corner you."

"But I handled it, did I not? Don't worry Jeffy, I'm a big girl," I grinned, using his nickname.

"Shut up," he grumbled through a mouthful of food.

"Yum. I'm going to bed. See ya later," I hopped up, and went up to my room. I changed, did my nightly ritual of face washing, teeth brushing and all that, then went to bed.

I got up Saturday afternoon around oneish.. Well, more like rolled out of bed like a zombie. I went to my dresser, and saw a note stuck to the mirror with my name on it.

Grace,
Meet me at Tightwad hill at 2:30. Bring Chuck, ok?
See you soon,
BJA

My brother's golden retriever, Chuck, had been Jeff's gift from our mother on his ninth birthday. He was six years old, and still a puppy at heart. But he usually stayed in Jeff's room, and was a pretty mellow guy.

I showered, got dressed in jeans and a plain black, form fitting tee, with my studded belt and black converse. Whistling loudly, Chuck came running in.

"Hey there! Long time no see boy!" I attached his leash, and he jumped onto my bed. I took the opportunity to do my eyes heavily with eyeliner, apply come cover up and chapstick, then we were off.