Bastards of Young

“You think your mom liked me,” the question had been plaguing me since we had gotten back from dinner at Billie’s sister, Anna’s house. The entire family had been welcoming in their own let’s-rib-the-hell-out-of-the-new-girl way, but Billie’s mom had been the most unrelenting in the fun.

“She loved you,” Billie exclaimed from behind me. We were both on the couch with me lying back on his chest, painting his nails as a dumb Lifetime movie went ignored on the TV. “What makes you think she didn’t?”

“She made fun of me a lot,” I blew on his right hand’s nails and started on his left.

“Everyone made fun of you a lot, its how they see if you’re a keeper.”

“Well, she seemed the most into it.”

“It’s only because you bit back,” Billie said as he nuzzled into the side of my head. “She likes that kind of fire,” he gave me a kiss on the cheek as I let a contented grin spread across my face.

“Good,” I said simply. “Now, you just have to get through my family. I talked to Dad and he said you guys would be welcome to stay overnight if you had time.”

“See, I think I’m getting the shit end of the stick here. You got to meet my family freshly bathed, in clean clothes and not filled to the brim on curb side tacos,” I giggled as he went on. “I’m showing up at your house filthy, gassy and with Tre. Not fair.”

I pulled his hand to my lips and gave it a kiss. “You’ll be fine.”

“Uh-huh… what’s your dad like?”

“He worships Regan, Jesus, and the American flag,” Billie tensed and sucked in air sharply behind me.

“Yikes. Okay… so, don’t say much to him?”

I chuckled. “No, do. He turned Jimmy’s old room into like a studio. He has a ton of instruments and early rock-n-roll records in there. You guys will have a blast. I promise,” I blew on his nails again and held his hands together to make sure my work looked good. “Perfect.”

“That sounds awesome… like I’m really excited now.”

“Yep, you’ll love them. Mom will probably have feast going by the time you get there,” I grinned widely at how she would react to three nearly starving, filthy boys walking into the house. “Be prepared for a lot of ‘You boys are about to waste away,’ comments. If you don’t have at least a small pot belly she assumes you’re a starving child from China.”

Billie laughed, “God, this’ll keep me going through the tour, man.” He wrapped his arms around me with a squeeze. “Where’s Tracy,” he asked after a pause.

“With the Bartender,” I said flipping the channel to AMC. “Oh! Jaws 2, sweet!”

“Does the Bartender have a name?”

“I like the mystery of not knowing.”

“When are they coming back,” I could hear the smile in his voice as I shrugged.

“Tracy said we needed our alone time since you’re leaving tomorrow. I’m guessing they’re staying at the Bartender’s place.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Billie sat up, pushing me up along the way. Turning to face him, he looked completely exasperated to the point of beside himself. “You’re fucking telling me that we’ve had this place to ourselves for the whole night for,” he looked at the clock on the TV that read 10:30, “an hour now and we haven’t been fucking like rabbits for any of it?”

I shrugged, “I just was enjoying us hanging out.” I busted out in nervous laughter at how quickly his face went from exasperation to devilish grin. Without any other warning he pounced from across the couch and I suddenly found myself on my back with him planting intentionally sloppy kisses all over me. “Ew,” I squealed like a little girl, “Billie, cut it out.”

Ignoring me completely, except for a smile I could feel as he moved his sloppy kisses from my neck to my lips, he started to tickle my sides. I jumped at the feeling and accidentally bit his lip harder than usual. “Ow, fuck,” he leaned back and rubbed the back of his hand to his lip. Looking at it wide eyed he exclaimed, “You made me bleed!”

“Oh, shit,” I said sitting up and taking his face in my hands to get a better look at the small cut with tiny drops of blood oozing out. “I’m sorry! You just made me jump when you tickled me,” I stood. “Let me go get --.” I was cut off by his hand grabbing my wrist.

“You’re not getting off the hook that easily,” he made to pull me back down, but I wriggled out of his grasp and ran for the stairs with a playful scream between laughs. I could hear his footsteps pounding behind me as I reached Tracy’s door. Bounding in, I slammed the door shut and locked it just as Billie reached for the knob.

“C’mon, Jean,” he called from the other side as he fumbled with the handle in vain. “No fair! You made me bleed!”

“That’s the game, bitch,” I giggled tauntingly.

“Alright, fine,” I heard his footsteps fade down the hall. Laughing, I laid back on Tracy’s bed wondering what scheme he was coming up with downstairs. After awhile I heard him coming back and got up with a sigh.

“Okay,” I said opening the door. “I surrender.” He stood, looking at me mildly surprised with a coat hanger still frozen where the doorknob had been.

Dawning a confident smirk and allowing the coat hanger to fall to the ground, he stepped into the room. “Nice to see you again,” he said putting his hands on my hips and pulling me closer. I didn’t say anything as I grabbed the front of his pants and brought us both to the bed.

“Jean,” Billie’s voice sounded tiny and distant as it attempted to guide me back into reality.

“Mmm?”

“Are you awake,” he was rubbing my back as he asked.

“Nope.” The air in the room was cold, so I brought the covers up to my chin as I rolled onto my side, facing Billie. Reaching out, I found his side and gave it a comforting rub before resting my hand on his bare hip. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to talk,” he brushed some stray locks out of my face and draped an arm around my waist.

“’Bout what?”

“Anything.”

I couldn’t help but notice how tiny his voice continued to sound. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just all this is really starting to hit me.”

“All of what?”

“Me leaving in six hours for two months,” he replied sadly.

I scooted as close to him as I could get, tightening my grip in hopes that the physical contact would remind him he wasn’t alone. “You’re coming back for two days before you go to Europe. And God, Billie,” I pressed my forehead to his, “You’re going to England! Do you know how jealous I am?” I poked his stomach in his ticklish spot while commenting, “You get to do everything you lucky bastard.”

He laughed and I felt the universe return itself to balance once more. “You should come with me,” there wasn’t a hint of joking.

“I wish I could.”

“Why can’t you? You told me when you gave me money for Mom that you had some cash saved up.”

“Not that much cash! Besides, there won’t be any room for me,” I brought my hand up to play with his hair. “I really want to, but you guys are going to have enough on your plate.”

He didn’t say anything for awhile. We both just laid there listening to each other breathe, allowing our minds to wonder. “I’m going to be a horrible father,” he said finally, throwing me for a slight loop.

“Why?”

“Because if this works out I’ll be gone all the time, if it doesn’t then I’m a dropout with no experience other than flipping pizzas,” the anxiety in his voice mounted with each syllable.

“Okay, one: do freak out like this every time you go on tour?”

“No….”

“Well, relax because my second point is I’m not pregnant and I’m 90% sure none of your side bitches are either,” he laughed as I continued, “You have to learn to not worry so much about shit that’s not even happening.” I gave him a kiss. “We’ll figure out the speed bumps along the way. And I think you’ll be a great dad.”

“But --.”

“If we fuck again will that chill you out?”

“Yes,” he said with his voice dripping sarcasm. “Having sex will really ease my thoughts on having children.” I gave him a playful push.

“Smart ass,” we laughed together for a bit before another thought popped in my head. “We should probably wash these sheets before Tracy gets back.”

“Nope,” Billie said breaking away from me to writhe around in the bed. “This is payback for all the times she’s come home early and cock-blocked me.”

I placed a hand on his face to make him stops so I could kiss him. After a second I pulled back sporting a grin to match his. “You’re my favorite thing,” I said curling some of his hair around my finger.

“Ditto, sugar tits.”