Our Little Secret

Billie and Mike lost interest in celebrating after David crashed their party. Mike had helped Billie clean the mess they had made; then they both retreated to their own room. It didn't take long for either of them to fall asleep as they both were feeling the effects of the alcohol. They slept all afternoon and well into the evening, and had they been undisturbed by Billie's mom, they probably would have slept through the night.

She arrived home late in the evening, sometime around eight. David had stopped by the restaurant after he'd gotten off work to let his mother know what Billie had been up to. And as much as she wanted to doubt that her child would do drugs and get drunk while he should be in school, she honestly believed it was something Billie would do.

As soon as she was settled at home, she went upstairs to talk to her youngest son. When she walked into his room, any doubts she was clinging to that her son had skipped school to partake in illegal activities sadly disappeared. Appearance-wise, the room looked pretty okay—'He probably spent the whole afternoon cleaning,' she thought—but it smelled absolutely horrible. Horribly like alcohol and marijuana. "Oh, Billie," she sighed.

She walked over to Billie's bed and gently sat down. "Billie Joe, wake up, sweetie." She probably should have been more angry with her son, but this was her baby. She couldn't be all that angry with him. "Billie…"

Billie took a deep breath and rolled over on the bed. When he realized someone was on his bed with him, he quickly opened his eyes. It still took him a minute to register his mom staring at him, waiting for him to say something. "Uh, huh? Mmm." Well, that's something.

"Billie, sweetie?"

Billie groaned. His head fucking hurt. And he was so terribly disoriented. "Huh?"

"Billie Joe, wake up."

"I'm 'wake." Kind of.

"Billie, come on, sit up. We've gotta talk."

"Hmm?"

Ollie sighed. "Billie, do you want me to get you a glass of water?"

'That's what she wanted to talk about?' Billie looked at her blankly.

"How 'bout some aspirin? You probably have a headache, huh?" she asked, looking at her son sadly.

'Why would she think that I've got a—Oh. David. Fuck.' He wondered why she wasn't yelling at him, even if his sore head was thankful for it. God, that just made him feel guilty. His mom should be screaming at him, not asking if he needed fucking aspirin. He absolutely hated upsetting his mom because she always seemed so disappointed in him. He'd rather she just yell at him like any other parent would.

Billie took her son's silence as a "no" and asked him once again to sit up so she could talk with him. He knew it was the least he could do so he obliged.

"Sweetie, I talked to your brother earlier."

He nodded. By this point, he was awake; he just didn't want to have this conversation.

"Billie… What were you guys doing during school?"

Billie swallowed thickly and looked away to avoid his mother's gaze.

"Billie, I don't want this to be a one-sided conversation." When Billie still didn't say anything, she continued talking. "I'm not stupid, y'know. It smells like alcohol and marijuana in here. I just want you to tell me what happened."

"Mom…" he started while turning his head back to face her. When he saw the look of despair on her face, though, he felt he deserved to tell her something. "We don't… It was just…" he sighed. "It's no big deal. We just… We're fine."

"Billie Joe, that doesn't tell me anything."

Billie sighed. 'It really doesn't, does it?' "Okay, we were… celebrating, y'know, 'cause Tre joined the band and everything. It's no big deal," he repeated. "We're fine."

"Billie, if the band is leading you guys to do things like… this, maybe it'd be a good idea—"

"No, mom!" he said a little angrier than he probably should have. "Green Day's the only thing that keeps me sane," he tried to explain. "Please don't take that away from me."

Ollie sighed. "All I want is for you and your brothers and sisters to be safe and happy… but things seem to be conflicting in this case."

"Mom, it's not that dangerous."

"You're seventeen, sweetie. Of course you'd say that."

"Mom! That has nothing to do with it." Billie absolutely hated whenever people insulted him due to his age. "Just 'cause I'm seventeen doesn't mean I'm naïve! Maybe you're the one who's naïve. Everyone tells you it's bad, so you just assume it is, but we're not hurting anybody, including ourselves. Smoking a little pot and drinking a little beer isn't gonna do anything."

Ollie was quiet for a minute. "What about… stronger stuff? Do you do any of that?"

Billie hesitated for a second and then, as convincingly as he could manage, told her "no." 'It's a lie for her own good. She doesn't want to know the truth.'

Ollie sighed, and Billie wasn't very sure he convinced her. He didn't receive much of a chance to find out as she seemed to skip to a new part of their conversation. "I should punish you for this," she began half-heartedly, "But I don't think it would do much good, now would it?"

Well, if Billie Joe hadn't felt like shit before…

"Just… don't get yourself hurt. I'd be beside myself if anything were to happen to you, Billie."

"I know, Mom," he mumbled.

Ollie gently patted her son's leg and stood from the bed. "I'm not gonna bother talking to Mike about this. He'd probably share your sentiments, huh? It'd just be a waste of breath."

Billie looked away as his mom left the room. No one could make him feel as guilty as his own mother could. Part of him wondered if she even realized she did it; the other part wondered how she possibly couldn't.



A couple hours later, Billie snuck across the hallway into Mike's room. He made a point to do so quietly as his mother was already in bed and he didn't want to bother her more than he already had that night.

"Hey, Mike, you up?" Normally he wouldn't even bother asking. He'd turn on he light just for the sake of annoying his friend, but he wasn't even in the mood. When he heard a groan coming from Mike's bed and saw him shift to sit up, he turned the lights on.

Mike groaned again at the bright light, but he didn't say anything in disagreement. "What?" he asked sleepily.

Billie Joe walked over to Mike's bed and sat down, gently nudging him out of the way. "I'm a horrible person," he stated.

"Why do you say that?" he inquired.

"Well, Mom came home a while ago and made me feel like shit." He groaned. "You know how parents have that power to make you feel so guilty about every little thing you do? Yeah, that's about it."

Mike nodded, knowing what his friend was trying to say.

"Y'know, it's just… I fucking disappointed her, y'know? Why couldn't she just yell at me or something like a normal parent?" Billie leaned his head back against the wall behind him and gently banged against it.

"Well, what all did she say?"

"Like… she was so nice," he explained. "She offered me some water and aspirin." As he was saying it, he knew it probably made no sense to Mike. "You know what I mean, right? She's just being so nice to me when I'm being such a horrible son, and I don't deserve it. I don't deserve such a good mother."

"Billie, of course you deserve your mom. Everyone deserves someone like her."

"Yeah, well—"

"No, Billie, I mean it. You might not fit the mold Ollie had for you, but I'm sure she would agree that you're the best son she could ever ask for."

'Deep,' Billie thought. He figured it would probably ruin the moment, though, if he said it aloud. Instead, he stayed there next to Mike for a few minutes without saying a word. He knew Mike was probably right, too. He always was. God, Billie was lucky. He had the best mother and the greatest friend anyone could ever hope for, and he didn't feel like he deserved either one.

He didn't want to bother Mike anymore since it was already getting late, so he stood up slowly and decided to head back to his room. "Thanks for being such a great brother to me, Mike."

Mike cocked his head. "I'm not your—"

Billie smiled. "Yeah, you are."