Stuck With Me
A house, a roomie, and a discovery.
I heaved a sigh. "So where's the locked room?" I finally gave in, and I could NOT believe myself.
"Come on, I'll take your guitar and I'll show you where the room is." He held out his hand and gave me a weak smile.
"Banana." I informed him. "Her name is Banana, she's not just my 'guitar'."
"Oh, sorry. I know how annoying that can be, but some people don't have names for their guitars..." Oh, dog, he's babbling! I thought. But how could he be nervous? Maybe he just has issues. I concluded as he led me up to the porch. We approached the front door and had to stop because the poor wimp walked into a spiderweb. He screeched like a little girl and flailed his arms, trying to get himself untangled. For the millionth time that night, I rolled my eyes and looked away. I stared at the door, which was not only cracked but carved in all over. I was only able to read four when BJ finally got the web off of himself and motioned for me to move to the left. He banged on the handle twice to the left, pushed down, then turned it. Surprisingly, it opened. "It was locked." he told me.
"I see..." He stood back and let me go in first. I silently took a deep breath and stepped in... that is, right into the screen door. The house was so dark on the inside that I didn't even notice it in the way.
"Damn it! T-- Frank actually fixed it!" BJ exclaimed. I held my nose, which got kinda squished after I ran ito the door. "It was falling off the hinges, see, and... Michael and I've been trying to get him to fix it for ages. I guess he got a new one and put it in today. Sorry."
"Sure..." I pushed open the screen and took a blind step into the house. A very faint light came from down what I suspected to be a hallway right in front of me, and since it was flickering, I guessed it was a TV.
"Yes!" I heard from that direction.
"Tré..." BJ muttered, but I'm not positive that that's exactly what he said. He flicked on a nearby lightswitch that illuminated (I was right) the hallway. There were two doors on the left, one on the right, and bare walls throughout it. The inside of the house improved little or none compared to the outside, but in spite of the appearance, it just felt like... it felt like a home should. It sounds odd, but it's true! It felt secure and welcoming, although practically trashed. The carpet had stains darker than its own brownish color, and red crayon doodles clashed against the white, wallpapered walls, which were also peeling, revealing yellow paint from before the wallpaper, obviously. Slowly making my way down the hallway, I kicked a couple empty cigarette packs and a few beer bottles, one of which was unopened.
"Ow!" I whispered harshly to myself as I stubbed my toe on it. I sighed again and continued down the hallway, taking in everything as I went. Finally, we reached the end of the hallway, opening up to a living room with a conjoining half kitchen. The flickering light was from a TV, and it bounced off of every surface it could reach. The kitchen, unlike the rest of the house, was particularly clean. I was staring at its cleanliness, its seemingly professional layout, when a shout from only a few feet away scared me out of my mind.
"HIGH SCORE AGAIN!!!" it screamed. I whipped around quickly, in shock, toward the noise. A guy, also about my age, was sitting in front of the TV, playing a video game of some sort and rapidly hitting all possible buttons on the controller. A few short moments later, something on the screen blew up. "WHAT THE-- ARG!!!" He threw the controller in the air and crossed his arms in front of him, pouting.
"T-- Frank..." BJ started. The guy turned around, startled, and instantly smiled.
"One, what's with this 'Frank' talk? Two, hi. Three, ooooooooooooh! You brought home a giiiiiiiirrrrrrl!" He smirked and winked at me. "He's a great guy, you're real lucky you got to him first." I made a disgusted face and shuddered.
"Where did you say the--"
"Not only does she look sexy, but she sounds like it too! Good choice, man!" Frank interrupted. Again, I gave him that look and tried to talk once more.
"Where exactly did you say the lockable room was?" I asked in a shaky voice. There's no way I'd let there be a chance of this new guy getting into 'my' room.
"Uh..." He glanced at Frank for a second. "It was the second door on the left from when we came in." I looked behind us and made a mental note as to where it was.
"Heh heh, that sounds exactly like where my room is! How'd you get another room to fit next to mine?"
"It is yours." BJ answered.
"What?" Frank and I chorused, although I was more shocked of course.
"Erm... Frank... you're sleeping on the couch."
"But... if she's your girl, then how come you guys won't be sleeping in your room, and... stuff...?" He wriggled his eyebrows at us.
"You know that we don't even like each other, right?" I asked. Every passing second clenched my stomach into knots, and the more that happened, the queasier I got, and the more frightened I got, the more I wanted to cry. Why did I have to go with BJ in the first place?
"Fine, fine." Frank replied. "At least let me clear out my crap first."
"Hurry up!" BJ yelled at him. "And... Frank?"
"What?" he snapped. BJ only held out his hand in response. After sighing VERY heavily, Frank dug around in his pocket and finally handed BJ a key, probably the room key. I shot BJ a bit of a thankful look, although still wary of the fact I was spending the night in a stranger's house. Suddenly a soft rumble kicked in and made me jump slightly.
"Oh, that was just the heater. Want me to take your jacket?" BJ asked. Frank stopped in his tracks and turned to look at me, smiling. Reluctantly, I unzipped my jacket and haded it over to BJ, exposing my Green Day shirt, the one with the Kerplunk! symbol, which is kind of funny because that was the CD playing in the car. I looked around uneasily, not sure of what to do next, and still feeling sick to my stomach, thinking of what might happen later. "You can sit down." BJ told me as he walked into the kitchen.
"Oh... okay." I answered, trembling from another oncoming headache.
"Want anything to eat?" he asked.
Instantly, I replied, "No thanks." I know better than to eat something from a stranger. So I just sat there, staring at a glowing 'GAME OVER' screen on the TV, not moving at all, or even blinking. For a second, I could have sworn I wasn't even breathing. The clenching feeling came back into my stomach and I quietly whimpered.
"Are you okay?" BJ asked me, sitting down beside me with a bag of chips. Why not a sandwich? I thought. As if reading my mind, he simply stated, "Vegetarian." I nodded.
"Okay, I'm done!" Frank called out to us. He came back down the hallway and flipped on the lights. Now under the light, I noticed several crumpled pieces of paper on the floor, as well as the scattered remains of a pizza box. Near my foot was one of the crumpled up balls, so I picked it up and unravelled it.
"It's no secret now, everyone knows,
It's my shoulder the night uses to cry,
My bedroom with six hundred windows,
My feet where the truth comes to die." It's a pretty good poem! Or lyrics to a song, but it seems to... girly for these two guys. That's probably why it was smashed up. I put it on the coffee table in front of me, and it blended in just perfectly with the coffee mugs, unused coasters, and drink rings from not using the coasters. Also on the table were a stack of napkins, perfectly untouched, with dust gathered on it. Anybody could tell that this house was run by men.
"Where's Miiiiichael?" BJ asked slowly and carefully, like he was about to say something else.
Imitating him, Frank replied, "Miiiiichael is in the shower."
"Why? He usually never takes showers at night."
"Maybe he knew that you were bringin' home a girl." He quickly sat down next to me, his blue eyes shining. He grabbed my hand, pulled it up, and kissed it. "Hey, I'm Tré."
"But... I thought your name was Frank." I said, snatching away my hand.
"Well it IS, but no one calls me Frank except my mommy. Ahhh... I miss her. I should really phone her..."
"Wait a minute..." I said, mostly to myself. "Isn't Tré the name of the drummer in Green Day?"
"Ah, cheah!" Tré exclaimed. BJ shot him a worried look, which confused me. Why would he tell me that Tré's name was Frank...? Now it dawned on me.
"And isn't Tré's birth name Frank?"
"DUH!!!" Tré yelled obnoxiously, but I do admit, it is pretty funny.
"And the bass player is Mike... whose real name is Michael..." My gaze turned to BJ. "And Billie Joe is the frontman... If BJ stands for Billie Joe..." My eyes widened in amazement. "That means you guys are Green Day!"
"Come on, I'll take your guitar and I'll show you where the room is." He held out his hand and gave me a weak smile.
"Banana." I informed him. "Her name is Banana, she's not just my 'guitar'."
"Oh, sorry. I know how annoying that can be, but some people don't have names for their guitars..." Oh, dog, he's babbling! I thought. But how could he be nervous? Maybe he just has issues. I concluded as he led me up to the porch. We approached the front door and had to stop because the poor wimp walked into a spiderweb. He screeched like a little girl and flailed his arms, trying to get himself untangled. For the millionth time that night, I rolled my eyes and looked away. I stared at the door, which was not only cracked but carved in all over. I was only able to read four when BJ finally got the web off of himself and motioned for me to move to the left. He banged on the handle twice to the left, pushed down, then turned it. Surprisingly, it opened. "It was locked." he told me.
"I see..." He stood back and let me go in first. I silently took a deep breath and stepped in... that is, right into the screen door. The house was so dark on the inside that I didn't even notice it in the way.
"Damn it! T-- Frank actually fixed it!" BJ exclaimed. I held my nose, which got kinda squished after I ran ito the door. "It was falling off the hinges, see, and... Michael and I've been trying to get him to fix it for ages. I guess he got a new one and put it in today. Sorry."
"Sure..." I pushed open the screen and took a blind step into the house. A very faint light came from down what I suspected to be a hallway right in front of me, and since it was flickering, I guessed it was a TV.
"Yes!" I heard from that direction.
"Tré..." BJ muttered, but I'm not positive that that's exactly what he said. He flicked on a nearby lightswitch that illuminated (I was right) the hallway. There were two doors on the left, one on the right, and bare walls throughout it. The inside of the house improved little or none compared to the outside, but in spite of the appearance, it just felt like... it felt like a home should. It sounds odd, but it's true! It felt secure and welcoming, although practically trashed. The carpet had stains darker than its own brownish color, and red crayon doodles clashed against the white, wallpapered walls, which were also peeling, revealing yellow paint from before the wallpaper, obviously. Slowly making my way down the hallway, I kicked a couple empty cigarette packs and a few beer bottles, one of which was unopened.
"Ow!" I whispered harshly to myself as I stubbed my toe on it. I sighed again and continued down the hallway, taking in everything as I went. Finally, we reached the end of the hallway, opening up to a living room with a conjoining half kitchen. The flickering light was from a TV, and it bounced off of every surface it could reach. The kitchen, unlike the rest of the house, was particularly clean. I was staring at its cleanliness, its seemingly professional layout, when a shout from only a few feet away scared me out of my mind.
"HIGH SCORE AGAIN!!!" it screamed. I whipped around quickly, in shock, toward the noise. A guy, also about my age, was sitting in front of the TV, playing a video game of some sort and rapidly hitting all possible buttons on the controller. A few short moments later, something on the screen blew up. "WHAT THE-- ARG!!!" He threw the controller in the air and crossed his arms in front of him, pouting.
"T-- Frank..." BJ started. The guy turned around, startled, and instantly smiled.
"One, what's with this 'Frank' talk? Two, hi. Three, ooooooooooooh! You brought home a giiiiiiiirrrrrrl!" He smirked and winked at me. "He's a great guy, you're real lucky you got to him first." I made a disgusted face and shuddered.
"Where did you say the--"
"Not only does she look sexy, but she sounds like it too! Good choice, man!" Frank interrupted. Again, I gave him that look and tried to talk once more.
"Where exactly did you say the lockable room was?" I asked in a shaky voice. There's no way I'd let there be a chance of this new guy getting into 'my' room.
"Uh..." He glanced at Frank for a second. "It was the second door on the left from when we came in." I looked behind us and made a mental note as to where it was.
"Heh heh, that sounds exactly like where my room is! How'd you get another room to fit next to mine?"
"It is yours." BJ answered.
"What?" Frank and I chorused, although I was more shocked of course.
"Erm... Frank... you're sleeping on the couch."
"But... if she's your girl, then how come you guys won't be sleeping in your room, and... stuff...?" He wriggled his eyebrows at us.
"You know that we don't even like each other, right?" I asked. Every passing second clenched my stomach into knots, and the more that happened, the queasier I got, and the more frightened I got, the more I wanted to cry. Why did I have to go with BJ in the first place?
"Fine, fine." Frank replied. "At least let me clear out my crap first."
"Hurry up!" BJ yelled at him. "And... Frank?"
"What?" he snapped. BJ only held out his hand in response. After sighing VERY heavily, Frank dug around in his pocket and finally handed BJ a key, probably the room key. I shot BJ a bit of a thankful look, although still wary of the fact I was spending the night in a stranger's house. Suddenly a soft rumble kicked in and made me jump slightly.
"Oh, that was just the heater. Want me to take your jacket?" BJ asked. Frank stopped in his tracks and turned to look at me, smiling. Reluctantly, I unzipped my jacket and haded it over to BJ, exposing my Green Day shirt, the one with the Kerplunk! symbol, which is kind of funny because that was the CD playing in the car. I looked around uneasily, not sure of what to do next, and still feeling sick to my stomach, thinking of what might happen later. "You can sit down." BJ told me as he walked into the kitchen.
"Oh... okay." I answered, trembling from another oncoming headache.
"Want anything to eat?" he asked.
Instantly, I replied, "No thanks." I know better than to eat something from a stranger. So I just sat there, staring at a glowing 'GAME OVER' screen on the TV, not moving at all, or even blinking. For a second, I could have sworn I wasn't even breathing. The clenching feeling came back into my stomach and I quietly whimpered.
"Are you okay?" BJ asked me, sitting down beside me with a bag of chips. Why not a sandwich? I thought. As if reading my mind, he simply stated, "Vegetarian." I nodded.
"Okay, I'm done!" Frank called out to us. He came back down the hallway and flipped on the lights. Now under the light, I noticed several crumpled pieces of paper on the floor, as well as the scattered remains of a pizza box. Near my foot was one of the crumpled up balls, so I picked it up and unravelled it.
"It's no secret now, everyone knows,
It's my shoulder the night uses to cry,
My bedroom with six hundred windows,
My feet where the truth comes to die." It's a pretty good poem! Or lyrics to a song, but it seems to... girly for these two guys. That's probably why it was smashed up. I put it on the coffee table in front of me, and it blended in just perfectly with the coffee mugs, unused coasters, and drink rings from not using the coasters. Also on the table were a stack of napkins, perfectly untouched, with dust gathered on it. Anybody could tell that this house was run by men.
"Where's Miiiiichael?" BJ asked slowly and carefully, like he was about to say something else.
Imitating him, Frank replied, "Miiiiichael is in the shower."
"Why? He usually never takes showers at night."
"Maybe he knew that you were bringin' home a girl." He quickly sat down next to me, his blue eyes shining. He grabbed my hand, pulled it up, and kissed it. "Hey, I'm Tré."
"But... I thought your name was Frank." I said, snatching away my hand.
"Well it IS, but no one calls me Frank except my mommy. Ahhh... I miss her. I should really phone her..."
"Wait a minute..." I said, mostly to myself. "Isn't Tré the name of the drummer in Green Day?"
"Ah, cheah!" Tré exclaimed. BJ shot him a worried look, which confused me. Why would he tell me that Tré's name was Frank...? Now it dawned on me.
"And isn't Tré's birth name Frank?"
"DUH!!!" Tré yelled obnoxiously, but I do admit, it is pretty funny.
"And the bass player is Mike... whose real name is Michael..." My gaze turned to BJ. "And Billie Joe is the frontman... If BJ stands for Billie Joe..." My eyes widened in amazement. "That means you guys are Green Day!"