Bastards of Young

“Oh my, God -- Kurt Cobain is sexy as fuck,” Tracy was flipping through a magazine I had bought earlier with Nirvana on the front as she leaned against the bathroom doorway. I was working purple hair dye into Billie’s hair as he sat zoning out in front of me – his only defense in avoiding shameless girl talk.

“Ugh, I know,” I said with dreamy frustration, “The things I’d do to that man… especially when he has his hair shorter. Courtney Love can piss off. I’m going to marry him some day,” Billie’s dye was probably ready to be washed out, but I was having too much fun curling his hair into liberty spikes and devil horns.

Next to me Tracy scoffed. “You’ll have to fight me first, woman.”

“Bring it,” I smirked.

“Hey, babe,” Billie suddenly had joined the living again. “I’m right here.”

I giggled as I turned his head the side and looked at him in the mirror. “You can be my hot young thing on the side,” I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. The wide grin on his face and slightly embarrassed shake of his head indicated I had done my job well. “So, what are you into tonight,” I asked, turning my attention back to Tracy.

“I dunno, a group of us might be going to the Revue for a few drinks later.” The Revue was a bar that Tracy and I haunted regularly, mainly because the juke box had “Jesse’s Girl” and “What Do I Get” on it. Plus, there was an incredible hot bartender there that would flirt for better tips. That always means a fun night.

“Mind if I join?”

“Fuck no.”

“Do you want to go,” I tilted Billie’s head back so he was looking at me.

“I can’t. Practice. But, I do want to come back here after and stay the night.”

There was another scoff from Tracy. “You been here every night since Saturday,” she exclaimed as she turned to head towards the kitchen. “Move in already!”

I shook my head with a laugh. “I’ll leave the key under the mat so you can get in. We might be out late – I think she’s been itching for a girl night.”

“Sounds good.”

I kicked the bathtub faucet on with my foot while taking off my latex gloves. “I think your hair’s ready to be washed out.”

“You know,” Billie said standing, “Moving in would be cool.”

I froze mid-glove removal and stared with wide eyes at Billie. “Are you serious?”

“No?”

“We’ve been together four days… we haven’t had sex yet. I mean, I know I said I wanted us to get out of that whole moving slow thing, but this is over doing it slightly.”

Billie looked like he thoroughly regretted ever opening his mouth as he shook his head in agitation. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry – it’s just that fucking squat is driving me up the wall. I went there yesterday and some fucker had broken in to my room and was shooting up.”

“Fuck…”

“I know! I mean, you know, he was too strung out to really pay any attention to me, but God. He could have had a gun or something,” he went to run a hand through his hair, but I grabbed his arm.

“Let’s get that stuff out of your hair,” I lead him down to the floor. He leaned his head into the warm faucet water and immediately everything was purple. “Fuck, that’s going to stain.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” I said thoughtfully. “I think you should get out of that place. I mean, you’re in that basement alone now and it’s obviously nothing to have random people walk in there.”

“Where would I go?”

“Move in with Mike or maybe you and Tre get a place?”

“Tre refuses to get a 9 to 5 and Mike says I could stay with him for a little while, but that he doesn’t really have the room for a roommate… it’s a studio.”

“Well, I’m saying the same. What about that club you guys go to all the time? Gilman? Do you know some one there to move in with?” The water was becoming less and less purple.

“Maybe. I’ll ask around. I just can’t handle that shit right now,” he had an odd tone to his voice, “We’re trying to plan that tour and my boss is threatening to lay people off all the time and my mom’s having some problems... don’t think I’m crazy or anything, but I was walking to Jimmy’s after the squat thing and I just started crying. Like all out bawling.”

I started to gently scratch his back. “That’s not crazy. I’d cry too.”

Billie moved his hand over a few inches so that it was resting on top of mine. “I think it’s all out mostly,” he said finally.

I grabbed the old towel from around his neck began drying his hair for him. After a minute I removed the towel to survey my handy work.

“Hot.”

Billie let his shoulders fall in disappointment. “I said I wanted to look different.”

I threw the towel in his face. “Dork,” we both were laughing and then as these things often go, we found ourselves kissing. Just as he had eased me onto my back, Tracy walked in.

“God! At least wait until I’m gone!”

---------

At the bar Tracy and I found ourselves dishing gossip with two girls Tracy went to school with, Laura and Candice, over drinks.

“You remember that skanky bitch that sat behind us in Feminist Studies,” Laura had directed the question at Tracy.

“The one with the really bad over bite?”

“The same.”

“What about her?”

“She was having an affair with the professor of that class and with that really weird history professor who walks with a limp.”

“But… those two are married.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh my God,” we all squealed.

“Super whore,” exclaimed Candice as she took a sip of her martini.

“I just don’t get why a woman would exploit her body like that. I mean, did she do it for the grades,” asked Tracy.

“I don’t know. I just know she was fucking them both.”

“You know,” I finally had something to contribute to the conversation, “That’s kind of how David Bowie and his wife met. They were fucking the same guy.”

My comment went widely ignored as Tracy pressed forward on the feminist issue.

“I bet she was. The chick said Rosa Parks was a pastry brand! And just because Dr. Miller is a woman doesn’t make it any better. Another woman should understand how important it is to appreciate the pressure we’re under from just guys – lesbos shouldn’t add to it for God’s sake!”

Laura and Caroline erupted into grumbles of agreement while tossing out quotes by feminist writers.

“I personally think you should work it if you have it,” every eye narrowed and looked at me scathingly.

“How can you say that,” Candice spoke first.

“Well, I think you’re looking at it wrong. Women are a lot more intuitive and sensitive to shit than men are. We value inner qualities because that’s what’s always been most useful to us. Guys on the other hand have always relied on the more obvious qualities. I mean back in the day the main goal was for the tribe to survive and a lot of that depended on strong men killing shit. I guess what I’m saying is what’s the difference between a woman using her body to get what she wants from a guy and a man using his natural charm to get what he wants from a girl. We’re just using our own tools nature gave us.”

The girls stared for a moment. “Oh, hey – did you see where that Wayne’s World movie is coming out Friday,” piped up Laura. “Chad is so taking me!”

With that the table was full of excited chatter and "shwings," all around. An hour later we all stepped out into the chilly night air. I looked at my watch that read 11:30. The others were talking about heading over to another bar that was doing a grunge themed karaoke, but I said it was time I got home.

“I’ll see you later, chick,” Tracy called as we split ways.

“Be careful,” I called back. The bus ride was eerily quiet like it always was at night and I almost missed my stop because I was half asleep. The one block to the apartment seemed to take an eternity. Billie had left the door unlocked. Carefully, I turned the creaky knob and trudged in.

After taking off my jacket I went into the living room where I found the TV on mute and Billie laid out on the couch asleep. I assumed he had made dinner since his dishes where still piled on the coffee table. Kneeling, I turned off the TV and started to rub his head affectionately. He stirred slightly, but continued to sleep. I grinned slightly and then picked up his dishes before taking them into the kitchen. I continued to stand at the sink, rubbing my tired eyes.

Work hadn’t let up at all and Rodney was becoming more and more flakey. Today he had made me balance the books and make new orders so he could catch a yoga class. He had been leaving a two every other day for mysterious reasons too. I was starting to consider looking for another job.

“Hey,” came Billie from behind me.

“Hey,” I smiled, facing him. “Didn’t hear you wake up.”

“Are you okay?” It was weird seeing him look so concerned under the shocks of electric purple hair.

“Work’s just been crazy… Rodney’s turning into an asshole,” I sighed heavily. “But, let’s go to bed. I’m beat.”

“Okay,” he held out his hand and I took it happily. On the way to my room he spoke, “If you quit could you at least wait to do it until the new Bad Religion comes out?”

“I’m not above making you sleep on the floor, Armstong.”