Going to Pasalacqua

Why do girls get jealous? Over petty things and then they do that puppy smack war, then it's over, and we don't talk, and then everything goes to shit in-between? Well, there's a very good explanation for that, you see. I am torn right now, between doing what's right, and doing what I feel is right. And I'm not about to admit which one is winning out...

Tré offered his help. I will gladly accept his assistance in getting my 'girly revenge' (mentioned above) only in not such a whiny 5-year-old girl kind of way. We had a plan all set up. And with my fingers crossed so tightly behind my back they were getting sore, I was ready for it. 

However, I couldn't help myself... My eyes constantly darting to the picnic table where they sat. Together. Talking about s subject I was never exactly on the same plane field with Billie on: Music.

That right there was something I could never talk freely about. And when I did talk about music with him, it was the oldies, like Elvis or the Beatles. Or a few bands that play at Gilman's on occasion. Beyond that is uncharted territory that is very dangerous for me to approach. And Leah seemed to have no problems conversing with Billie about the mainstream bands like Foo Fighters, AC/DC and Kiss. In fact, I'd maybe heard one or two songs of each of those bands. But every time, it was either because it was on the radio, or because I could hear it through the thin wall of my bedroom, coming loudly from Billie's stereo.

I combed my fingers through my hair once quickly, then twice. A nervous habit I adapted from Mike. My hair had changed noticeably since a year ago. I'd gotten it trimmed every now and again because I did like it short. It was shoulder length now, not the awkward boyish cut Brad had given me. My hair was brown, and thanks to Billie a week prior to tour, he put a few blond streaks in it when he was dying his own hair the same shade.

I nibbled my fingernails and watched them with envious eyes. I noticed Billie looked up every so often and his eyes would scan the backyard until they settled on me... A begging expression on his face. He obviously wasn't having much fun with the bragger now, she had probably brought up the subject of her 'awesome' lyric writing skills again. He looked bored as the minutes dragged on. I wasn't sure when it was time for us to take action with the prank, hell I didn't even know what the prank was, Tré said to leave it all to him with a sly grin and I hadn't seen him since. Whatever he was planning, had to be something big, I couldn't think of anything off the top of my head that would require a whole hour of his undivided attention.

“Adeline it's ready...”

I jumped and spun around, slapping Tré. Who had hissed in my ear, triggering my self-defense unit.

“Dammit Tré! We discussed the whole sneaking up on me thing. Don't do it again.”

He rolled his eyes “Sure sure...”

“I mean it Tré...” I warned him severely. Giving him 'the look'

He shrugged and changed subject “Anyways, the prank I've arranged is a hands-free thing. All you have to do is go over there and tick her off.” he said, beaming as he gestured towards Leah.

I sighed in frustration “That won't be hard Tré, my very presence irks her...” I muttered.

“Atta girl, go get 'em.” he said, patting my back harder than necessary to get me moving towards the table.

When Leah noticed me approaching, her eyes narrowed and she changed subject quickly to something that should annoy me tremendously.

“Billie, you're so sweet, you know that right?” she grabbed his hand right out from under him. Which he had been using to support his chin in boredom.

“Isn't he just awesome Adie?” she smiled up at me innocently. Like she had no fucking idea we were together of anything.

“Yes, he is amazing.” I said without emotion in my voice. Which is something that Leah would never be able to achieve ever.

“In fact, today is our one year anniversary.” Billie added cheekily. I pecked his cheek and sat down beside him. Totally ignoring Leah's presence to annoy her. It was Definitely getting to her. She glared at me, well glare is a understatement. Glaring Daggers was more of a acceptable term. She clenched her teeth and almost slunk into s crouch on the picnic bench. She looked distinctly like a lioness staring down it's prey. Her eyes watched my every movement as I watched hers, my expression smug. 

“Dad said you were a real bitch.” she growled. Leaning over the table. Eye to eye, I could see more of her, the parts of her that she was hiding. I could tell she was wearing contacts, her eye color was off, that's why her supposed to be hazel eyes always appeared too bright. Her real eye color is most likely a blue. Also she looks like she wears glasses, not in public, Definitely not. Bu the light tan lines around her eyes signaled nerd glasses. Also, from a distance, her skin seems so perfect, it could appear angel. Up close you could see every blemish and pimple under the pound of makeup she uses to cover it. 

I saw Tré approach behind her, as well as Mike and Larry. Tré had a piece of paper, rolled up into a tube in his hands.

“Time to reveal the real Leah Sterling...” I murmured out loud. She gasped, spinning around in time to meet tree pie pans full of whipped cream to the face, classic prank, then Tré obsessively sprayed a whole can of silly string in her hair.

“Get off!” she shrieked. Shoving Tré backwards into the house, I tossed her a towel and she wiped down her face, and after she had removed the majority of the whipped cream from her face, I saw Tré's reasoning for the prank of choice. The towel in her hands was tie-dyed with the beige shades of her concealer, the pound of eyeliner and eyeshadow. And the mascara smeared all over her face, around he'd eyes like a raccoon in headlights.

The real Leah Sterling.

Tré unrolled the piece of paper before her eyes, it rolled all the way to the ground, it was Leah's school yearbook photo in poster mode. It was three years ago before she reinvented herself. 

Acne, oily hair, light blue eyes that were actually pretty, and her wardrobe was no punk rocker chick cut off with leather jeans. It was a pink blouse and s white floral skirt. With those white granny tennis shoes and her hair pulled back in a high, tight pony tail.

She screeched at the top of her lungs “THAT IS NOT ME!”

Everyone at the party started laughing, Billie grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face the house, he'd reflection in the sliding glass door.

“Really? I beg to differ...” he said, she saw her reflection and she knew she was no different.

She growled “You are all a bunch of immature brats who can't act their own age!”

She threw the towel on the tile of the patio and stomped out the garden gate, leaving it swinging open behind her. 

It was a moment of silence before the backyard blew up in a chorus of cheers and joy. Leah Sterling was gone, for now.

I kissed Billie and the music started out of the speakers loudly.

Green Day go on in twenty minutes, 
Their set would include all the songs on their EP, 1000 Hours, Dry Ice, Only of You and the One I Want.

I saw them trot up on the stage, just as spunky as ever, and they opened with Dry Ice.

“Late last night I had a dream, and she was in it again. She and I were in the sky, flying hand in hand. I woke up in a cold sweat wishing she was by my side. Praying that she'll dry tears left on my face I've cried. 
“Oh I love her, keep dreaming of her, will I understand if she wants to be my friend? ”

Once again I wondered what inspired this song, as I had wondered about every song he had written. Though I had s pretty good idea.

***

“So what inspired that song?” I asked curiously after they had completed their first set of Dry Ice, the One I Want and a cover of the Who's My Generation. Billie knew damn well I had a soft spot for that song.

He was hanging out drinking water while the others hung around, doing close to the same thing. 

He winced, like he was expecting a beating from his coming words “I wrote it during the week we were apart.” he admitted sheepishly.

I couldn't help the poof of joy from his words, that he had written a song about me. Maybe I was overreacting about it, but I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him anyways. Whispering “I love it almost as much as I love you.”