Whatsername

I quickly jumped up without thinking and lost my balance. I was about to fall over when Billie caught me.

"Thanks," I mumbled as he helped me into the room.

"Is it okay if I stay?" Billie asked.

"Sure," the nurse replied with a wink and left the room.

"Wow, you're pretty good with the ladies," I joked, referring to the way he had the nurse wrapped around his finger.

"Yeah, you'd think. I can keep everyone but my wife interested, I guess," he said with a sigh.

I raised an eyebrow. "Wha--"

"Hello, I'm Dr. Walsh. According to your chart, you're having trouble remembering who you are?" the doctor said, walking into the room and interrupting me.

"Yes, I am."

"Can you remember any type of stressful situation or possible injury that's occurred in the past couple days?"

"Um, well, this morning he hit me in the head with a cell phone," I said, pointing to Billie.

"On purpose?" Dr. Walsh asked, looking at Billie.

"No!" Billie yelled defensively.

"Okay... just checking. Wow, that's a pretty big bump you have there. How long has it been since this 'accident'?" Dr. Walsh asked with air quotes as he pushed back my hair, which I had just realized myself was brown.

"Um, about six hours," said Billie.

"I was passed out for six hours?!" I asked in disbelief.

"Five and a half, actually," he replied after thinking some more. I rolled my eyes.

After three and a half hours of questioning, tests, and x-rays...

"So... you have temporary-- well, hopefully temporary, amnesia, caused by a concussion," Dr. Walsh said, finally walking back into the room.

"Yippee," I said sarcastically.

"Well, at least you've still got your sense of humor."

"Yeah, she almost convinced me she was a lesbian in the waiting room," Billie added, and I rolled my eyes again.

"Okay.... It's going to take a couple days to get your fingerprints analyzed and get the results back on your other tests. You can stay here tonight if you want, since I'm guessing you don't know where your house is," Dr. Walsh said.

"Stay here... in the hospital... all night?" I asked, starting to panic.

"It's okay. She can stay with me until things get straightened out," Billie Joe said after noticing my reaction.

"Really?!" I asked, loving the idea that I wouldn't have to stay there.

"Yes, really. It's the least I could do, since I was the one who caused all these problems."

"Okay, miss..."

"Kate. My name is Kate, I think," I said, staring at my shoes.

"Okay, Kate. You can leave, and I'll have someone call you when we get the results on your tests," Dr. Walsh explained. Billie gave them his phone number, and we quickly got out of that horrible place.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," I said as we drove out of the parking lot.

"You thought I was gonna leave you there all night, didn't you?" he asked, pretending to be hurt. At least I think he was pretending.

"Maybe," I said, yawning as some of the painkillers they gave me for my head started to take effect.

"Well, I'm not that cruel. You should have seen your face when he told you that. It was hilarious," he laughed.

"Yeah, funny," I grumbled, glaring at him.

"Sorry. Anyway, hopefully whoever you are, you've had your fingerprints taken."

"Why? Do you think I'm some kind of criminal?"

"No."

"Well, then, why would I have my fingerprints taken if I haven’t gotten arrested or something?"

"Some people do it just in case something like this happens."

"So they get their fingerprints taken just in case a famous rock star hits them on the head and gives them amnesia?" I asked sarcastically.

"Hey, how about some music!" he said, trying to change the subject.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine."

"Got any requests?" he asked, turning on the radio.

"Nope. Can't remember anything," I said with a yawn.

"Oh yeah, I forgot...."

"You forgot?" I scoffed.

"Are you tired?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes..." I yawned again.

"That explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Why you're so grumpy."

"I am not grumpy!" I argued as the car stopped.

"Okay, fine, you're not. Now, I've just gotta pick up my stuff from the hotel. I'll be right back." Billie said, getting out of the car. That's when I started wondering why he was staying in a hotel, and where were we going after he got his stuff?

"Ow, head. No more questions," I said to myself as I watched Billie walk through the parking lot. That's about when I fell asleep....

"Hey, wake up. We're here," Billie whispered, shaking me awake.

I blinked. "What?"

"We're here."

"And where might I ask is 'here'?" I asked, looking out the window at a huge house.

"My house. Now can you walk, or do I still have to carry you?"

"I can walk, I think," I said, standing up and following him.

"God, I hope she's not here still," Billie said mostly to himself as we walked up the driveway.

"Who?"

"Adrienne," he said with a sigh as the front door opened, and a very pissed off woman glared at us.

"You asshole! We're divorced for a week and you already have some slut. Is that why you called me this morning?! You wanted me out of the house so you can bring your whore here!" Adrienne-- or who I assumed to be Adrienne-- yelled.

"You should talk! You were the one cheating on me while we were married. And the reason why I wanted you out is 'cause it's my fucking house, and I've already given you a week to get your shit out!" he yelled back.

"Well, aren't you lucky, then. This is the last box. So you and your little whore can have fun now!" she screamed, carrying a small brown box to her car.

"We will!" he shouted, pulling me into the house and slamming the door.

"We will?" I asked hesitantly.

"No. I just want her to think that," he said, peering out the window.

"Oh...."

"God, she makes me so mad," he groaned as I followed him into the kitchen.

"So... I'm guessing she was who you were talking to this morning," I said, sitting down on a barstool as he searched the kitchen.

"Mhmm," he said, going through the kitchen cabinets.

"This is a nice house."

"Thanks," he mumbled, still tearing the kitchen apart.

"Would it be rude if I asked what you're looking for?"

"Address book."

"Is it black?"

"Yes."

"It's on the counter behind you," I said, pointing at it, and he quickly looked up whatever he was looking for.

"Thanks. Now where's the phone...?" he asked, looking around.

"It's in your hand already," I said, trying not to laugh.

"Ugh," he groaned, dialing it. "Hey Mom, it's Billie. Yeah, I'm not gonna be able to pick up the kids tonight. Well, something happened. It's a long story. I'll tell you tomorrow. No, I'm not trying to hide anything. It's just really hard to explain. So are you gonna be okay with them until the morning? Thanks, love you too. Bye." He sighed, hanging up the phone.

"You have kids?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yep. Two of them."

"You don't seem like a father."

"And why not?"

"I don't know. It's just hard to picture you being a dad. I mean, most dads don't wear eyeliner," I laughed.

"Oh, yeah? After you see my great parenting skills tomor--" he started to say as the door bell interrupted him. "Who the fuck could that be?" he asked, walking to the front door.

"Hey, Bill, I was bored, so I thought I'd come by and cheer you up," said a guy with a considerably higher voice than Billie's.

"Right now is not the best time," I heard Billie whisper as I walked into the room.

"Holy fuck, Billie! Who is this?!" the guy squealed, pointing at me.