Homecoming

I had missed school to go to the studio. Billie drove me back to his house. I had never been to his house yet. Plus, he just bought it a few weeks ago. It was big and pretty much a mansion, like rockstars' houses usually were.
In his room, I snagged his laptop of the desk.
"You'd rather be on the computer than spend time with me?" He had his crooked smile.
"In a minute. I spent all day with you anyways."
"Not really. Maybe twenty minutes."
I shrugged. "We have until ten. That's when I go to bed or I can't get up in the morning."
"I didn't realize you had a bed time," he teased. "It doesn't surprise me actually. You have a sheep. And you named it Theo."
"You're a jerkoff," I joked.
"And you're really immature for a twenty-one-year-old."
I punched his arm. "I'm punk. I don't care if people say I'm immature."
"And so am I. I don't care if you call me a jerkoff."
I sighed. "That's not the point!"
"If you were so punk, then why did you care what I said."
I thought about that for a minute. He watched me.
"I was kidding," Billie said, "You don't have to answer it."
"Because I love you," I responded anyway. "Not just as an obsessed fan. I know the real you now. I've told you that before."
He nodded and crossed the room to pick up an acoustic guitar. I pretended to be focused on what I was doing, but I was really listening. He was playing When It's Time. The song he wrote for Adrienne. I set the computer back on the desk and sat back on the bed, drawing my knees up to my chest.
The song transitioned into Words I Might Have Ate. I found myself to be transfixed.
"Sing," I said.
He shook his head. "Why?"
"Live is better than recorded."
"What do you want me to sing?"
Favorite song at the moment....Hm...Take Back. Like he would sing a semi-screamo song. I chucked to myself.
"What?"
"Nothing. You wouldn't sing it."
"How would you know that?"
"I just do."
"Try me."
"Take Back."
"I will." He looked like he didn't want to though.
"You're only going to because you don't like being wrong." I gave him a wry smile.
"Fine I won't sing it."
I took the guitar out of his hands and set it on the floor. Then, I snuggled close to him. I ran my hand through his hair.
"I'm thinking about cutting it."
"If you want to, go ahead, but I think it looks amazing like this."
He raised his brows. "Then I might keep it."
I giggled. "I like it no matter what and you've styled it like a hundred different ways."
He laughed. "Yeah, you're probably right."
My phone beeped. It was from facebook. Just my friend commenting back on a post where we were talking about Billie.
"What," Billie asked. He'd been reading over my shoulder.
I blushed. "Um, she started it. I'm not the one starting random conversations about your beard."
"When did I have an 'insanely scruffy' beard?" He airquoted insanely scruffy.
"I don't know when. It was like 2009 or 2010, but you did."
"And how did this conversation come about?"
I shrugged. "She wanted to know if you dyed your hair every other week. I told her no and what you looked like. Then she just started talking about that. I have weird friends, okay?"
He laughed. "You're like a teenager. All the time."
"Am not!" I kissed him.
He kissed back and tangled his hands in my hair. I pulled away and smirked. He laid down and let me lay with my head on his chest.
"You're comfy."
He chuckled. I liked that he was easy to make laugh. Or maybe he was laughing at how ditzy I was.... Either way, he was laughing, so it counted. We were there for maybe an hour, not talking, but completely happy.