Angela
Chapter 5
Billie Joe's P.O.V.
Breakfast was awkward, to say the least. I sat in the lounge room with a piece of half eaten toast and the remains of a good cup of coffee beside James and Angela on that lovely, lovely couch. It was Saturday morning and their parents had gone to visit Larissa’s mother, and apparently that meant taking advantage of their time alone. All 3 of us were still clad in pyjamas. James wore a simple white vest matched with a pair of grey track pants. I wore a pair of old black track pants that were faded at the knees from the painting I’d done on the dog kennel the previous summer, and never really took to wearing a shirt to bed. Angela wore a pair of shorts and a purple tank top, but of course, I already knew this. I’d fallen asleep beside her and only woke when I heard Steve stomping about upstairs. Frantically, I got up and ran the 2 steps to my own room, closing the door behind me with a small click. I fell to the floor and slept a little longer right there, still so very tired. I hadn’t been sleeping very well.
“Change the channel Ange, this is all aimed at 2 year olds now.” She did as instructed and changed the channel to something aimed at 10 year olds instead, and neither of them seemed to complain. Her arm found her side again and was now touching my own, and though it was only a slight sensation it made me blush none the less. I couldn’t deny that I was attracted to this girl; she looked a lot older than you’d guess and seemed a lot more mature than most teens. In my heart, I knew that wouldn’t cut it still. She was half my age, and that was that.
Cartoons soon became boring and everyone went off to do their own thing, eventually getting dressed in the process. James had gone to practice his piano whilst Angela chose to blast her favourite songs seemingly as loud as she could manage it, whilst I was stuck somewhere between trying to hear my own thoughts and coming to the realisation that I couldn’t possibly have any with such racket.
“Turn it down Angela! I can’t hear myself play!” James yelled from the sitting room for what must have been at least the eighth time by now, and still Angela hadn’t heard him. It was like a goddamn ear war. I took it upon myself to be James’ legs and walk the short distance to her room, knocking on her door before I entered even though it seemed pretty pointless.
“Angela?” She was sat on her bed staring blankly at the wall before I’d entered, and a little after, but now a smile adorned her face and she was facing my direction. “James can’t hear the piano, love.” She got up briefly to turn her music down and then took her seat once again, still having not said a word to me. A Ramones song came on and I smiled. “You have good taste in music.”
“Thanks.” I spotted in the corner of her room a rather decent looking guitar and nodded towards it.
“Can you play?”
“Only a little. As you could probably guess, my mother won’t allow me to take lessons.”
“I’ll teach you a thing or two. It’s not that hard. I mean, if a dropkick like me can play…”
“You’re not a dropkick, Billie Joe, and really, I’d rather not. I’m embarrassingly horrible at it.”
“Ohh nonsense.” I passed her and grabbed the guitar from its stand, taking a seat beside her on her bed. “Besides, I need something to do.”
“Only if it’s not a bother, then.”
“What’s its name?” I asked.
“Kasey, after my best friend. She’s the one that bought it for me.” I scooted a little closer towards her and placed my arm behind her back to grab her left hand, trying to unclamp her fingers and place them on the frets.
“C’mon, I don’t fucking bite,” I murmured to her, and she relaxed her hand immediately. “Now put this finger there…and this one there…yeah and that one there…yeah. And after you’ve plucked this string and then these ones,” I demonstrated, “change your fingers to here and do this…then back again.” She did as instructed and I smiled as she came to realise I’d taught her something new, even if it was something small.
“How did you learn to play?”
“Patience. Also, it beat homework, and jacking off in a room where your best friend occupied most of the time wasn’t really an option to consider.” She giggled then blushed, and I smiled at the sound. I so dearly missed being that innocent. “Ooh, you’re blushing,” I teased.
“I – I’m just embarrassed by my playing,” she stuttered. I shook my head and went back to directing her hands, suddenly aware of the music in the background once more. I tried all I could to keep it together but I knew I was failing. I knew tears were running down my face and my voice was giving that fact away pretty bad, but still I carried on.
“Bil–”
“And then put this finger here,” I choked, moving her fingers for her as she refused to do it for herself, “and strum once more.”
“Billie, stop,” she said softly, placing the guitar on the bed behind us. I think she, too, had then picked up on the song playing through her radio, because she shut it off immediately. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine, really,” I sniffled, wiping my eyes. “It’s just a song.”
“But it was about her…”
“Yeah…” I heard her swallow and watched as she thought about her words very carefully before she spoke again.
“If you don’t mind me asking, Billie, exactly what happened to her?”
“Uhh…well she…” I swallowed now, my hand then finding the back of my neck. “She fell.”
“She fell?”
“Down a flight of stairs…and…and through a window.” I was so sure all colour had left my face by now. I remembered the scene as clear as her face, which was cut so bad it was hardly her at all. I was glad the kids were still in school because if it scarred me so bad, I couldn’t imagine what it would have done to them. Her blood was all over the shirt she’d bought me for Christmas and in her hair, her mouth, her eyes…
“I’m so sorry,” Alison said, now crying too. I hugged her tight for some time before we once again parted, and I felt something lift from my shoulders as we did. It felt good to talk to Alison, even if she could never fully understand the situation I’d been in.
Breakfast was awkward, to say the least. I sat in the lounge room with a piece of half eaten toast and the remains of a good cup of coffee beside James and Angela on that lovely, lovely couch. It was Saturday morning and their parents had gone to visit Larissa’s mother, and apparently that meant taking advantage of their time alone. All 3 of us were still clad in pyjamas. James wore a simple white vest matched with a pair of grey track pants. I wore a pair of old black track pants that were faded at the knees from the painting I’d done on the dog kennel the previous summer, and never really took to wearing a shirt to bed. Angela wore a pair of shorts and a purple tank top, but of course, I already knew this. I’d fallen asleep beside her and only woke when I heard Steve stomping about upstairs. Frantically, I got up and ran the 2 steps to my own room, closing the door behind me with a small click. I fell to the floor and slept a little longer right there, still so very tired. I hadn’t been sleeping very well.
“Change the channel Ange, this is all aimed at 2 year olds now.” She did as instructed and changed the channel to something aimed at 10 year olds instead, and neither of them seemed to complain. Her arm found her side again and was now touching my own, and though it was only a slight sensation it made me blush none the less. I couldn’t deny that I was attracted to this girl; she looked a lot older than you’d guess and seemed a lot more mature than most teens. In my heart, I knew that wouldn’t cut it still. She was half my age, and that was that.
Cartoons soon became boring and everyone went off to do their own thing, eventually getting dressed in the process. James had gone to practice his piano whilst Angela chose to blast her favourite songs seemingly as loud as she could manage it, whilst I was stuck somewhere between trying to hear my own thoughts and coming to the realisation that I couldn’t possibly have any with such racket.
“Turn it down Angela! I can’t hear myself play!” James yelled from the sitting room for what must have been at least the eighth time by now, and still Angela hadn’t heard him. It was like a goddamn ear war. I took it upon myself to be James’ legs and walk the short distance to her room, knocking on her door before I entered even though it seemed pretty pointless.
“Angela?” She was sat on her bed staring blankly at the wall before I’d entered, and a little after, but now a smile adorned her face and she was facing my direction. “James can’t hear the piano, love.” She got up briefly to turn her music down and then took her seat once again, still having not said a word to me. A Ramones song came on and I smiled. “You have good taste in music.”
“Thanks.” I spotted in the corner of her room a rather decent looking guitar and nodded towards it.
“Can you play?”
“Only a little. As you could probably guess, my mother won’t allow me to take lessons.”
“I’ll teach you a thing or two. It’s not that hard. I mean, if a dropkick like me can play…”
“You’re not a dropkick, Billie Joe, and really, I’d rather not. I’m embarrassingly horrible at it.”
“Ohh nonsense.” I passed her and grabbed the guitar from its stand, taking a seat beside her on her bed. “Besides, I need something to do.”
“Only if it’s not a bother, then.”
“What’s its name?” I asked.
“Kasey, after my best friend. She’s the one that bought it for me.” I scooted a little closer towards her and placed my arm behind her back to grab her left hand, trying to unclamp her fingers and place them on the frets.
“C’mon, I don’t fucking bite,” I murmured to her, and she relaxed her hand immediately. “Now put this finger there…and this one there…yeah and that one there…yeah. And after you’ve plucked this string and then these ones,” I demonstrated, “change your fingers to here and do this…then back again.” She did as instructed and I smiled as she came to realise I’d taught her something new, even if it was something small.
“How did you learn to play?”
“Patience. Also, it beat homework, and jacking off in a room where your best friend occupied most of the time wasn’t really an option to consider.” She giggled then blushed, and I smiled at the sound. I so dearly missed being that innocent. “Ooh, you’re blushing,” I teased.
“I – I’m just embarrassed by my playing,” she stuttered. I shook my head and went back to directing her hands, suddenly aware of the music in the background once more. I tried all I could to keep it together but I knew I was failing. I knew tears were running down my face and my voice was giving that fact away pretty bad, but still I carried on.
“Bil–”
“And then put this finger here,” I choked, moving her fingers for her as she refused to do it for herself, “and strum once more.”
“Billie, stop,” she said softly, placing the guitar on the bed behind us. I think she, too, had then picked up on the song playing through her radio, because she shut it off immediately. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine, really,” I sniffled, wiping my eyes. “It’s just a song.”
“But it was about her…”
“Yeah…” I heard her swallow and watched as she thought about her words very carefully before she spoke again.
“If you don’t mind me asking, Billie, exactly what happened to her?”
“Uhh…well she…” I swallowed now, my hand then finding the back of my neck. “She fell.”
“She fell?”
“Down a flight of stairs…and…and through a window.” I was so sure all colour had left my face by now. I remembered the scene as clear as her face, which was cut so bad it was hardly her at all. I was glad the kids were still in school because if it scarred me so bad, I couldn’t imagine what it would have done to them. Her blood was all over the shirt she’d bought me for Christmas and in her hair, her mouth, her eyes…
“I’m so sorry,” Alison said, now crying too. I hugged her tight for some time before we once again parted, and I felt something lift from my shoulders as we did. It felt good to talk to Alison, even if she could never fully understand the situation I’d been in.