You Just Never Know

***

I smile at him. He smiles back and there’s just something about his smile that makes my heart beat just a tiny bit faster. There’s so much love in his eyes. I’m glad he’s my best friend. If he wouldn’t love me, no one would. I’ve never really thought about how much I rely on him. He thinks he needs me but he doesn’t get that it’s I who need him. Sure I’m his crying shoulder, and yeah, I try to protect him so that noting bad will happen, but the real reason I never leave his side is because I would be so damn lost without him. Or, actually, the main reason I never leave his side is because I love him.

“Billie do you remember when we were 13 and sneaked away during some stupid lesson, like math or whatever. I can’t really recall, it could have been-“ I say and my sentence starts of as a question but ends as rambling. That’s probably why Billie interrupted me.

“Get to the point Mikey,” he said but without sounding irritated at all.

“Yeah, well, we went somewhere, maybe in an empty classroom, and man you giggled a lot!”
I smile at the memory. Billie nudges me impatiently and demands that I continue.

“Do you remember Billie? Do you remember that we kissed each other?” I ask with a smile and his eyes go wide.

“Of course I do but I thought you’d forgot all about it!” he exclaims all eyes.

“It was really sweet and innocent kisses too, and you would giggle before and after every single one of them,” I kept going but once again got interrupted by my friend.

“I did not giggle,” he protests pouting somewhat.

“Yes you did!” I insist but he shakes his head violently.

“Nope,” he says.

“You even giggle now days Joe-Joe,” I laugh and he sticks out his tongue at me. “You giggled not long ago when you said my neck was tasty.”

“Well, maybe I did,” he gives in, “but not as much as you claims I do! Besides, you blushed when we kissed that time. You’re face went bright red after the first kiss and it wasn’t even a proper kiss! Our lips just barely touched.”

“But it was magical” I say without even thinking about how it sounds. Billie gives me a shy smile and, yes, of course I blush.

“Yeah it was,” he says in a soft voice, stroking his fingers across my cheek. “The first kiss is special.”

I simply nod at him because some moments are too good for words.

He was right that it hadn’t been a proper kiss, none of those kisses were, but it had been my first and that made it special. It matters but little to me that my very first kiss had been with Billie Joe. I have no problem with the fact that the first person I kissed was a guy. It’s not like there were any emotions involved or anything, we had just been curious. In fact I had no clue what Billie was up to when he told me we should skip class and go somewhere. I had been so utterly confused when he’d grabbed my hand and lead me into an empty classroom, at least I think it was a classroom, I can’t remember the details too well.

He had looked around nervously, checking that it really was no one there before he closed the door. I think I asked him what was up but maybe I didn’t, I don’t know. He acted so strange, all giggly and cheeky. Then he simply leaned in and placed a very soft, sweet kiss on my lips. First my eye went wide, then my jaw dropped to the floor and last but not least my face went, as Billie Joe said, bright red. He giggled again and lowered his gaze. I got myself together pretty fast if I might say so myself, but I couldn’t stop blushing though. Then I did what I though was the best thing to do considering the situation; I gently forced him to look at me by lifting up his chin and I gave him a smile, leaned in and kissed him back.

Oh, man the look on his face was priceless! His moth was wide open in surprise and his eyes were so big that they seemed to make at least half his face! But the way he looked right after that is what I love the most, no matter how funny his first expression was. He looked at me all starry-eyed and gave me the warmest, most lovingly smile, like I meant the world to him. The way he looked right then is what I always think about when Billie and I have a fight or when I’m lonely and miserable. It reminds me that Billie Joe cares about me and that he’ll always be there no matter what. That no matter how angry he gets, how bad he treats me, how much his actions hurts sometimes and no matter what he says I know that he will always love me. Forever.

I give him a soft smile and he looks at me with a hint of that starry-eyed and loving expression like he knows exactly what I have been thinking about. When it fades it’s replaced by a grave, pain burdened look on his face. I study him for a while, a question steadily growing in my mind.

“Billie?” I say hesitatingly.

“Hmm?” he hums absently while playing lazily with my hair, letting his finger getting tangled as he runs them through it. I pause for a long while but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Are you broken?” I finally reel of rather rashly then snap my mouth shut, waiting for an answer. Or maybe dreading one.

He looks at me for a few seconds, then look away while pulling back his hand as if he got burnt. There is an awkward streak in the silence that falls upon us and there is this uncomfortable feeling oozing from him. I dare not move, much less speak, in fear that I’ve made things go bad again. So I sit put. Silently watching, waiting.

“How do you mean, broken,” he murmurs after a while but it’s not much of a question. It seems more like he’s trying to stall, or avoid answering.

I honestly don’t know what to say, because I’m not sure how I meant.

“Like, inside. You know, like. Troubled,“ I try uncertainly.

He still doesn’t look at me and I’m beginning to regret ever asking. Then he moves. He gets up from the bed and walks around the room carefully hiding his face from my vision. My eyes anxiously follow his every move when suddenly he stops. Billie gloomily hangs his head down, his shoulders sagging and his arms resting against his sides.

“Maybe,” he sighs. “Most likely,” he then adds muttering with a bit of anger or irritation in his voice. His fists clench and I can hear the clicking sound from his teeth as he snap them together. He’s upset, there’s no question about it and I can barely suppress the whimper growing in my throat, the kind of whimper a dog that has misbehaved would use when it fears the consequences of its actions.

“Billie?” I say but as it leaves my mouth it’s barely more than a frightened whisper. He then turns to look at me and I see nothing but sorrow.