Christie Road

Christie Road

Billie Joe trembled where he sat on the couch in the front room of his house, a cold sweat gently dripping down his back beneath his shirt. He watched his hands as he held them out in front of himself, scared by how badly they were shaking. He hadn’t felt like this before. He wanted to disappear, to fade to the particular shade of dullest grey he felt washed out to and never come back from there.

It wasn’t even that he’d seen her there. He almost knew he’d see her there, and he had been fine with that. It had been the first time he’d been to Gilman’s since the whole ordeal, but he knew he could handle it. Even if he saw her. Even if she was smiling. Even if it was obvious he was still pining for her, and she was perfectly fine. He’d even devised the look he’d throw her way if he happened to catch her staring, which he doubted, that he would hope would come across as ‘please reconsider’ and not ‘look what you do to me’. He knew it would be the latter, and this was all okay.

But that didn’t mean he was prepared to see him.

He’d come in through the door shortly after she had, smelling her hair in secret as they stood by the side of the stage with her friends. The smile on his face was disgusting, Billie had decided, and he wanted nothing more than to smack it right off of him. He knew what she smelt like, and it felt like he’d never forget it; that delicate mix of her strawberry shampoo, the perfume she had in that tiny glass rabbit, and the smoke that lingered on her leather jacket. He could still remember it as he sat with his head in his hands, which had finally stopped shaking, desperately trying to force his tears to remain as nothing but a shimmer in his eyes.

He wasn’t her type, this boy she had been all over. Billie had watched on from the dark corner he was at as he got her drinks and laughed at all her jokes, which were probably stupid and not worth pretending to be impressed by but Billie knew he’d done the same thing all the time. This kid wasn’t even dressed the part. His daggy blue jeans and collared shirt gave away that this wasn’t his scene. He didn’t belong there. His arm around her waist was an absolute travesty. He couldn’t possibly have it in him to love someone like her; to love her completely, as she deserved to be loved. As Billie had – as Billie still, loved her.

Billie’s chapped lips let out a quivering breath, his tears finally falling as he lifted his head to see whoever had been knocking at the door for the past… he wasn’t sure… finally come in on their own.

“Are you okay?” Mike knew he was asking a stupid question, but he asked it anyway for lack of the right words to say. Billie shook his head before wiping his nose on his sleeve, snotting up his jacket in the process but not caring much at all.

“Take me to the tracks at Christie Road?” he asked, his sad eyes peering up at Mike through his dishevelled black hair. ‘Take away the strains of being lonely’, he thought to himself just quietly, for Mike already knew how he felt. Mike nodded silently, lending his hand for Billie to grab as he got up, looking up to the ceiling as he wiped his tears away and pulled the tiniest of smiles.

“Let’s get blazed.”