I Was Only Dreaming

The next few weeks were like a living hell. Even though Samantha was in another room with Jessie, I could still hear her crying in the middle of the night. And Jessie, of course, had me up to help her. So, neither of us got sleep, but we got very bitchy. This rubbed off on Mike, Tre, Mom, my boss, even the lady at the grocery store. The world got a little angrier after Samantha was born, I'll tell ya that much.

When Samantha was a month old, Tre came to me and said that if he didn't go back to school next year, or he didn't get a job that his dad would put him out. So, Tre practically begged me to let him live with us.

"I'll sleep on the couch, I'll only eat scraps, and I'll pee outside, please Billie, please!" Tre got on his knees, hands clasped together, eyes pleading. What could I say? I could say no, but this is Tre we are talking about. So, I told Tre that he's be moved in by the end of the week. That night, I got our neighbor to baby-sit and took Jessie to a diner. She was actually happy that evening, compared to previous nights. We both ordered Sprite and our dinners and make idle small-talk. Okay, now ask her.

"So, um, I was talking to Tre today, and he said that his parents were gonna kick him out." I said, tentatively.

"Oh, that sucks. Maybe he should move in with us? But, yeah, only if it's alright with you," Jessie said, answering my prayers.

"Oh, yeah, I'll ask him tomorrow. I think the couch turns into a bed," I say, just as our burgers arrive.

"Oh, no, I'm not having Tre sleep on the couch," Jessie says as she stuffs some fries into her mouth. "You move into my room, and Tre takes your room. This way I won't have to get up whenever Samantha starts crying."

I move into her room? Wow, I didn't see that one coming. I guess Jessie will enjoy the company, I know I will.

"...And Tre can do some cleaning while take care of the baby. How does that sound?" Jessie asked me, fully intent on having Tre move in.

"Uh, sounds good to me. I'll call him tonight," I say.

So, we had a new edition to the house. Tre moved all his shit into my room, and I moved all my shit into Jessie's room. It was a tight fit, two adults and a baby in the tiny bedroom, but we made it work. Jessie didn't mind my sleeping less than a foot away from her, but I sort of did. She was kicker, and I fell off the bed multiple times the first few nights. By the fourth night, everything was going okay until Tre barged in, saying he had a bad dream. Not wanted to deal with it, I pretended to be asleep and let Jessie put him back to bed. Things seemed to be getting along alright.

*Jessie's POV*

My life has been complete shit since Samantha was born. I know a lot of new moms say that, but it's not the baby part that is driving me insane, and not even the fact that freakin' Tre moved in. I know you're sick of me saying this, but I cannot stop thinking about Mike. He is in every thought, every dream, and everywhere I go, I am reminded of him. I see Mike in Billie, Tre, Ollie, and Samantha. Especially Samantha. And Green Day is going to release a full album next year, so it seems like every place I go is abuzz with the news. My stomach feels sick every time Mike with his deep, blue eyes, perfectly thin lips over his beautiful smile, his scruffy blonde hair that I loved to mess up, and his warm, soft, protective hugs enter my thoughts. It's impossible to release him, no matter how hard I try. Every time Billie hugs me, I imagine him being Mike, and every time he talks to me, I imagine him being Mike. It's not fair to Billie, but I can't help myself. Mike is like heroin. He starts off sweet, being an escape, but now he's destructively addictive.

Throughout summer, I rarely saw the man who haunts my dreams. He never came over, and I never went over to Ollie's, where Mike still lives. Ollie would come over a few times a week to check up on me, help with chores, stuff like that. Tre usually went out to Gilman's or wherever, leaving me home alone with the baby. But when Tre was home, there were a few phrases I think the neighbors are sick of hearing. Things like, "Tre, shut up!", "Tre, turn the TV down!", "Tre, put Sammy down!", "No, Tre, don't do that!", and of course, the ever-classic, "I'm telling Billie!". We won't be welcome at any housewarming parties any time soon, that's for sure.

But there was one day in late August when I was home alone, in the peace and quiet, with no Tre around. I had cleaned the apartment, Sammy was asleep, and dinner was on the stove. I could relax for once and watch a movie that was going to start in about ten minutes. As soon as I sat down, the doorbell rang. Fuck, I thought. Can't I ever have some time to myself? I got up and dragged myself to the door and opened it. And who was there? My angel, my knight in shining armor, the Harry to my Sally, the- yeah, you get the point.

He looked just like he did the last time I saw him. Blue eyes that'll melt your skin, blondish- brown hair, same way it was cut just one year ago, that little earring he has is still present. He wore a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, covering a Dead Kennedys shirt, black jeans, and his red converse. The ones I got him for Christmas...

"Hey," Mike said in a nervous tone. His voice had gotten deeper, but it was still very clear.

"Hi, what's up, Mike?" I ask in an equally nervous tone. I hadn't said his name in God know how
long. It made a chill run up my spine.

"Um, I needed some guitar picks... I was wondering if Billie had any lying around. I figured I'd come here instead of buying them," Mike fiddled with a friendship bracelet on his wrist. Like he always did when he was lying.

I smiled my Welcome-to-our-weird-home-don't-be-scared smile and let Mike in. "Come on in, Billie should have some in his nightstand." I led Mike through the apartment into the bedroom. He immediately noticed Samantha, who was awake, and asked me if he could see her.

"Of course," I answered. "She's partly yours." Mike spun around from Sammy to face me.

"What?"

"Well, there was a woman at the hospital who said that she thinks babies can hear what's going on around them before they're born. That what's said helps them grow and develop and stuff. And you were with her for five months so I'd say that part of her is yours," I said, watching Mike's lips instead of his eyes. This was a nervous habit I have.

I watched Mike's lips smile. "Yeah, I'll have to agree with you on that." Mike reached down into Samantha's crib and gently picked her up. She cooed at him and started giggling. The adorable scene between the two was too much for me, so I opened Billie's nightstand and looked for the guitar picks. Oh, yeah, like Mike actually needed them.

I found a small package and turned back to face Mike. He was smiling at Samantha, and I swear she was looking straight into his eyes. For a moment, I forgot Sammy's father was Billie. I could see a major connection forming between Mike and Samantha. It was so sweet. "Here are the picks," I said to Mike as I watched him with Samantha.

Mike put the baby back in her crib and took the small envelope from me. Intentionally brushing my fingers and making a chill run up my spine again. "Thanks, Jess. Look, I'm sorry about how things ended with us, and I really don't wanna be ignoring you all the time. Can we try to be friends again?"

Mike was looking straight into my eyes, and I could tell he was dead serious. Now, I didn't really want to be friends...kind of more then that, but this is a start.

"I'd like that, Mike. I miss you," I say, not trying to sound like someone who's desperate. Even though I kind of was.

"Great! Can I come over for lunch tomorrow?" Mike asks me.

"Of course, I'll see you at around noon," I say with a smile, a genuine one this time.

"Alright, I'll see you." Mike turns and exits the bedroom, and I soon hear the door close. I tried to scream with joy over what just happened. Instead, I scream into a pillow for five minutes before going to watch my movie.