If Opposites Attract, Then We Were Meant to Be

[c]“And I wanna believe you,
When you tell me that it'll be ok,
Ya I try to believe you,
But I don't”[/c]
*** Billie’s P.O.V. ***
I’ve tried every possible way to get in touch with Sam. I just want her to open her eyes to the true form of her lying and cheating fiancée. I don’t want her to get hurt again but it seems inevitable.
“Billie Joe, why don’t you just go visit her. Then she can’t avoid you and you’ll get the chance to tell her about Jared.” Adrienne suggested one day as I talked to her on the phone. With her going to school it made it harder for us to stay in touch but we did our best. She called during her breaks between classes and I called right before we both went to sleep so our conversations could be played over and over and we would slumber dreaming of one another…most times.
I was having trouble sleeping lately. I kept having nightmares of Sam sobbing inconsolably and blaming me. I would watch her slowly sink into the overflowing bathtub for too long, her limp arm hanging lifelessly on the edge as the water ran down like thousands of tears. I couldn’t save her from herself. I never made it in time and so more and more frequently I woke up in cold sweats at odd hours of the night. Haunted but the repeatedly lingering nightmare.
Are we demented, or am I disturbed? The space that’s in between insane and insecure.
“You’re okay with that?” I questioned.
“She’s your friend and you need to look out for her,” she replied. God, I love that girl; she supports just about anything that can help me have a clear conscience.
“Okay. You’re the best, you know that right?” I ecstatically said. She sniffed cockily and answered, “Yeah, I know!”

“Mr. Kratzer? Hi, it’s Billie Joe Armstrong sir. Yes…again. I was wondering if you could tell me what school Sam is going to so I could tell her something very important. Yes sir, thank you! Thank you sir!” Mr. Kratzer seemed very willing to let us mend our friendship. He told me he admired my determination… then he asked me if I wanted to join the military. Actually that’s not as bad as what he told Trè. Ever since Trè’s condom fiasco Mr. Kratzer keeps a watchful eye on him. He once told him he was going to talk to his commanding officer about having Trè drafted to some other country. If I was Trè I would be very afraid of Sam’s dad!
Persistence is key. I’m flying across the country to tell the girl who wants nothing to do with me that her fiancée is cheating on her…I, am a moron. This will not work if she wouldn’t have anything to do with me before why should she now? God, why am I such an idiot? A naïve fool. Maybe I think she’ll fall for me and we can be together forever…deep in my subconscious; it would do me good to leave that fantasy for childhood fairytales.
*** Sam’s P.O.V. ***
“Please turn that off Lizzie!” I called from the closet. She was blasting Green Day’s first CD that she had gotten when she saw them. I really didn’t want hear Billie sing about those girls that left him heartbroken; yada, yada, yada. It wasn’t making me feel any better; it wasn’t enough to hear his woes.
Jared seemed distant lately. He doesn’t call in the mornings anymore; I’ve had to start using my alarm clock again. I wonder if he’s second-guessing this relationship and his proposal. I know I have…a lot! I just can’t shake the feeling that he’s not completely there, as if his mind is somewhere else altogether. I don’t really know anymore if this is what I want…for either of us.
This honestly isn’t the best time to be questioning this relationship. I’m marrying him in about two months; my birthday’s next month then the wedding, how super! I love sarcasm that is by far one of the greatest grammatical things or whatever it is, it is awesome.
My head is throbbing. The vibrating pulsations of the, I must say: infectious sound filled the room with Billie’s voice, Mike’s back-up vocals and bass, Trè’s drum, and Blue; Billie’s most prized possession, his guitar. I almost wished I could be back on tour with them, drooling over Billie with my girl-friends to keep me from drowning in Billie-love land. We always had the most fun when we were together, our crazy antics usually getting us into trouble.
I screwed our friendship up! I always do. I don’t know why I just…do. I can’t fix it, he probably hates me now.
*** Billie’s P.O.V. ***
I made it! I brought Mike and Trè with me as back up… and we might try and get a gig here so I have an excuse. By the way Trè and M&M’s equal: intolerable insanity confined to harassing flight attendants!
I still can’t believe I want through with this. I’m in North Carolina for God’s sake! It’s weird though, to hear Mike, Trè and I talk around all these people with thick southern accents, just strange it’s almost like we speak a different language.
I guess this must’ve been Sam’s favorite place to live. She got accepted into some major schools but she chose one that’s pretty big but, it’s no Yale!
“Okay man, we know you’re here for Sam but what are we doing here?” Mike sighed. Boy, it was so hot here!
“You’re here because I need you to keep Sam from killing me. Also you’re a witness in case she does Mike, Trè I’m not really sure why you’re here…oh yeah we need to find a place to play…” I mumbled losing my train of thought.
“Wait you want to play a gig?” Mike asked.
“…Yes.” I stated.
“Where?” he began to look around as if he would suddenly see a giant sign that said: Come one, come all to the Find a Gig for Your Band, Outlet!
“I, have no idea.” I muttered.
“Perfect! Why do you want a gig if you’re here for Sam any-OH! I get it,” he smirked figuring out my plan.
“What? Get what I don’t follow, no comprendo! I want to know, c’mon!” Trè whined. Poor, slow Trè. Bless his heart! (LOL, that’s church lady talk for: “You IDIOT!”)
“He’s trying to have an excuse to be in town so he doesn’t seem like a stalked to Sam.” Mike explained as Trè nodded in understandment.
“Oh yeah! That would be awkward,” he stated
“Exactly.” Mike agreed.
“Okay can we just go.” I complained.
“Fine,” they chimed as we went to go find a gig.
The Flamingo; that is where we are going to be playing. It’s this small club where not a lot of people go but now that we’re playing they think they’ll get some crowds…they said something about out of town-bands being popular or something.
“Samantha Kratzer’s room number please,” I said to a cranky old woman in the “Who-are-you,” she asked. Her voice was crackly and agitated sounding and she paused between every word.
“We’re Sam’s friends from back home in California. But don’t tell her we’re here. We want it to be a surprise.” I answered nervously. Her crooked yellow teeth had a piece of barbeque stuck in them, which was kinda grossing me out, I mean who knows how long it’s been there?! *cue shudder*
“I can’t let you then.” She stated rudely.
“Why not?” I retorted, forgetting my nice-boy manners.
“Because you three hoodlums could be stalkers her to kill the unaware Ms. Kratzer. It’s a standard safety precaution to keep our students out of possible dangers.” She droned nasally.
“Okay then I guess you found us out,” Trè whimpered dramatically. I noticed he too was eyeing I.F.G.O. (Identified Foreign Gross Object)!
“Get OUT! Don’t make me call security!” she screeched.
“Why don’t you make that call Toots!” Trè yelled back.
“Trè come ON! We don’t need to get on this nice young woman's nerves.” Mike hissed through gritted teeth as he tugged on Trè’s shirt collar.
“Flattery won’t work on me MR!” she spat, looking like she was getting ready to throw something at us.
“We’re going! We’re going!” I repeated backing out of the room with my hands up in surrender as Mike dragged Trè out.
Trè adjusted his shirt back to where it should sit as he said, “Well that went rather well I think.”
“Are you kidding me that is totally not what I had planned but now I have a Plan B.” I replied forming some new tactics to get into the fortress.
“What’s the plan El Capitan?” Trè asked saluting me.
“Okay here it is…” I began.
We got in our positions for our very own Mission Impossible and so James Bond,James Dean, and Pee Wee Herman took they’re places for the fight of their lives.
Trè/Pee Wee walked into the office and began acting like he knew kung fu, kicking and punching things every which way till he got what we wanted; he knocked over a full coffee mug onto the security system. Our cue to move came when we heard the evil secretary screaming and Trè laughing. Mike and I scaled the fence and jumped down landing in crouched positions on the other side. Then we took off, sprinting away from the gate.
Once out of the danger zone we began to ask around about Sam. At last we found someone who gave us some answers.
“Samantha Kratzer, yeah uh she’s in the Reagan dorms um I think the second floor. I’m not sure what room though, just ask around when you get there someone’s bound to know,” the girl told us. Now to completely execute this plan.
“Samantha Kratzer? Yeah she’s the last room on the left.”
“Thanks a bunch!” I replied before following the girl’s directions. When we reached the door I knocked.
“Yeah, can I he-AH! Oh MY GOD!” A dark haired girl screamed with glee as she opened the dorm room door.
“Uh does Samantha Kr-“I started but the girl squealed again and slammed the door in my face, hitting my nose with a ‘whack!’
*** Samantha’s P.O.V. ***
“OH MY GOD! SAM! YOUR LOVER-BOY IS HERE!” Lizzie screamed tackling me.
“Who? Trè?”
“No, okay maybe I should put it like this: your pathetic stalker/puppy is here.” She said calming down.
“Billie Joe? Wait, you slammed the door in his face?” I asked.
“Ye-oops,” she blushed and quickly ran to answer the door again. I hurried to the bathroom to fix myself up. I ran a q-tip under my eyes, removing excess liner that had begun to wear off; re-applied and over-all freshened myself up. Lizzie on instinct knew what to do.
“Uh, Sam there’s two guys here to see you,” she called.
“Hold on. I’m coming.” I answered coming out and revealing myself to them. Billie had of course brought Mike; it’s like his boy-code. His hair was still in dreads and his eyes were still bright green, nothing had changed; and yet something had, some presence. His anxious face became a crooked smile in an instant of seeing me.
“Billie? What are you doing here,” those first words calmed my nerves and lifted a weight off my shoulders. They were the first words I had said to him since he was drunk the night Stella was born. Oh, God how good it felt to just say his name and know he could reply back in real-life, not just my imagination!
“Well we have a gig in town and I thought I’d visit you, since you don’t return my calls,” he muttered looking sheepish and blushing.
“Oh well…I’ll bet you need to get back, so niche to see you, sorry about the phone calls-“ I tried to push him out the door since the butterflies were back and I didn’t want to deal with them.
“Wait!” he caught the door with his foot. “I’m here to see you, please just let me talk.”
Reluctantly I slowly opened the door again and let him in. I glanced at Lizzie who kept looking at me, Billie, and Mike then me and Billie and making a kissy-face at me and pointing a Billie. As I walked passed her I elbowed her so she’d stop, so she began to focus on Mike again; me thinks someone has a crush which could be bad news for Mike and Ana!
“We’ll just be going outside for a minute.” Mike said backing out of the room with Lizzie.
“Uh, Sam I lied, sort of. I got a gig to have a reason to be in town, because I need to tell you something about your fianc-Jared,” he started nervously picking at the calloused skin on his thumb, a bad habit he’s had for as long as I’ve know him.
“Okay… what about him?” Just then the phone rang saving me some time from this already awkward conversation.
“Could you hold on for one second I need to take this.” I said holding up a finger in a just a minute pose as I answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Oh God Samantha!” it was Mrs. Anderson and she was bawling profusely.
“Mrs. Anderson? Is something wrong? Please you need to tell me?” I instantly began picturing the worst.
“J-J-Jared, my baby, my angel, g-gone!” she wailed.
“Wh-What do you mean he’s gone?” I began to feel my throat tighten up. This couldn’t be happening to me, not again! “Gone? Like he ran away?” I asked hopefully.
“He’s dead!” she continued crying, her nose stuffing up.
“W-How?” I tried to remain calm, how do you do that? How would you do that when you just found out your fiancée is dead.
“He committed suicide, loaded up on as many drugs as he could and started driving till he found a place where he could crash. He was missing from his room this morning and no one had seen him and the police found his car and, and-OH! “
“It’s, it’s going to be okay, right? It’ll be okay,” I tried to console her and myself, but convincing never really worked on me.
“Sweetheart I have to go the police need me, alright. I’m so sorry.” She wept as I let her go.
“Who was that?” Billie asked as I returned the phone to its home.
“Jared’s mom.” I replied monotonously.
“What did she want?” More questions, why doesn’t he just leave me to mourn in peace.
“Jared. Committed suicide.” The short answers, as quick as possible and more painful than having you head bludgeoned with a baseball bat.
“What? Oh my God. Sam I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“No, I’m sorry.”
“Why? You have no reason to be apologizing to me.” he asked with a furrowed brow.
“Because I have been avoiding you, at all costs. Over something stupid that doesn’t even matter now, and you still tried to fix things when it wasn’t your fault it was mine. So I’m sorry.” I stated on the verge of tears.
“Sam I was never mad okay, I can’t be mad at you.” He sounded so genuine.
“How lucky am I? You’re so good to me, Adrienne’s a lucky girl,” I exclaimed collapsing into his arms and crying. Normally I didn’t like for people to see me cry, but with Billie I just felt comfortable showing my sadness, my glee, my anger, anything.
“Yeah Adrienne…Shh, it’ll be okay. Shh…” he rubbed my back soothingly as I wept in his kind embrace. I twirled the engagement ring mindlessly before I knew what I was doing. I pulled out of the hug a little and looked at him. I leaned up towards him and kissed him, my head exploded with good feelings but all of a sudden an alarm went off in my mind and I pulled away.
“I’m sorry!” I exclaimed; my tears still had let streaks of water and make-up down my face.
“Yeah, I should go!” he said quickly rushing towards the door leaving me alone, once again; alone.