Whatsername

Dad said you might get your memory back. When you do, does that mean you'll leave?

Joey's words kept replaying in my head, driving me crazy with thousands of unasked questions. They had kept me up for three nights. They made me wonder how I had gotten so attached to Billie, Mike, and Tre in such little time, made me realize I was going to have to leave eventually, and that wasn't something I was looking forward to doing. At first they meant nothing. I thought they were just a group of insane, hyperactive rock stars that, thanks to some strange events, I was living with for a while, but now they were so much more.

No matter how much I wanted to find out who my family was, who I was, I still couldn't help thinking about how sad I would be the moment I would have to say good-bye to them.

It scared me, how I now called that my home, and how I suddenly could not, despite how hard I tried, take my eyes off Billie Joe.

I was sitting on a picnic table, in Mike's backyard, since he had invited us to a spur of the moment barbeque, and I knew I was supposed to be having fun, but it was hard to enjoy anything when all I could do was worry about when it would all be gone.

Watching Billie across the yard seemed like the only thing I wanted to do. It kept me from thinking, which was a very good thing at the moment. He was talking to Mike by the barbeque, and anytime he got excited about something he was saying, his eyes would widen and his arms would spread out and wave around in odd motions, spilling beer out of one of the many bottles his hand had held that afternoon. Very interesting to watch for an easily-amused person like me.

"What'cha doin'?" My head quickly spun around and I stared at Henderson. She was standing over my shoulder, glancing at Billie and then back at me with a smirk. "Why don't you just go over there? Or do you enjoy admiring him from afar?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to sound convincing. "I'm just waiting for Tre to bring me my soda." It had been thirty minutes since he had disappeared into the house to get it, and I had given up after five of those minutes, but I wasn't going to let her know that.

"Oh," she said, the smirk as big as ever, "and you thought while you were waiting, you'd just drool over Billie?"

"I'm not drooling...," I grumbled under my breath, and she laughed, sitting down next to me.

"So... are you guys a couple now, or are you still in denial?" she asked, twiddling with the beer cap in her hands.

"I don't know what you're talking about. There's nothing going on. What happened between Billie and I was a mist--"

She covered my mouth and rolled her eyes. "Please spare me the bullshit. You like Billie. Billie likes you. So what the fuck is going on? Why aren't you two together?"

"What makes you think Billie likes me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow after she had removed her hand from my face.

She rolled her eyes once again. "Anyone with half a brain can see that." Her thumb jabbed in Billie's direction, and I slowly followed it. He was smiling at me.... I waved, and he gave me a thumbs up. What a dork. A drunk dork, but a dork all the same.

"Well, even if he did like me, it's more complicated than just the two of us 'liking each other'," I sighed, turning back toward Henderson. "Billie screwed up and told Tre some things, for who knows what reason, and now we're stuck keeping what happened between us from him. It's just one, big, crappy soap opera, isn't it?"

She nodded slowly. "Yep, sounds like it. I'm so sorry for you, dear. But, on the bright side, Tre's not here. Maybe you could..."

"No," I interrupted, and her evil grin faded. "Whatever your idea is, no."

She shrugged, and I could see she was trying to keep from smiling. "Fine, but lover boy's callin' you over anyway."

I groaned and turned to Billie again. He was waving his arms like a maniac, trying to get my attention. "Kaaaate! Kaaaaaaaaaaaate!"

I slowly stood up and glared at Henderson as she giggled. "I hate you." That only made her laugh harder and blow me a kiss.

Damn her. I took my sweet time walking across the yard, going at the slowest pace possible as I watched Billie grin at me.

"Hi, Kate! How're you?!" he yelled, pulling me into a hug. He smelled like he had bathed in alcohol. Oh boy....

"I'm, uh, fine, Billie. What'd you want? Why'd you call me over?" He finally released me, and I sighed, brushing my dress off.

"I don't remember, but now that you're here, I want you to meet my friend Mike." He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me over to where Mike was cooking. "Hey, Mike, meet Kate! Isn't she hot?"

Mike slowly turned around, tongs in hand, and raised his eyebrows at Billie. "Bill, I seriously think you should cut back on the booze." He rolled his eyes as Billie continued to gesture to me and look at him expectantly. "Yes, fine, she's hot. Happy now?"

Billie grinned and put an arm around my shoulders. "Mhm. Come on, Kate, let's go sit down." I jerked forward as he pulled me with him. Of course, instead of going to the table, Billie was making a beeline toward the cooler. I rolled my eyes.

"Billie, the table's over there." I tugged on his arm and tried to steer him away from the cooler. I could hear Henderson's laughter as I continued to fight him. It must have looked really odd. "Billie, Mike said no more to drink."

"He didn't say thaaaat."

"Yes, he did."

Just then, when Billie was about to protest again and fight me, Tre saved my arm from being torn off. How, you ask? He came running out of the house, wearing nothing but an apron and an oven mitt. Billie stopped pulling and stared at his drummer with wide eyes. The rest of us gaped as he spun around in circles, revealing his lack of undergarments. "Mikey poo! I lost my clothes, so I hope you don't mind that I borrowed this."

After all of us had eaten, and I had found Tre's clothes in the oven-- don't ask-- we were all sitting outside, in the dark, talking as a million mosquitoes bit my legs and arms. Despite that, it was lots of fun listening to the guys talk about their music. They even got into discussing their next album. But nothing was serious, since Billie kept suggesting that they covered a bunch of eighties pop songs, and every couple minutes we would have tell Billie to shut up when he started singing those songs at the top of his lungs. Amazing how someone with such a great voice can sound so awful when he's drunk.

"Ohhhhh, girls just wanna, they just wannaaaaa--"

"Billie, knock it off!"

"Well, sorry!" He threw his arms up in the air and rolled his eyes. "No one appreciates me!" he cried, leaning on me as he snuggled his face into my neck. My eyes widened and I looked at Tre.

Mike quickly stood up and cleared his throat. "Well, guys," he started nervously, "I bet you're wondering why I called you over tonight." Everyone's attention was turned to him, and Billie finally removed his stubbly cheek from my cleavage and looked up at Mike. "There was a reason. So, here it goes. Henderson and I are engaged!"

Well, that definitely distracted everyone.

______________________________________ ---

"Girls just wanna have fuuuuuuun!" Billie sang as I dragged him through the front door. "Isn't that song great?"

"Yes, Billie, it's awesome," I groaned, rolling my eyes as he leaned on me. I kicked the door shut and glanced at the stairs. It was going to be fun trying to get him up those. "Can't you walk by yourself?"

"Mmmm, yes!" he said, and I waited for him to move. Nothing.

"Then, walk?"

"Oh, no. I can't."

I started to regret not having Mike's help. He had offered to when he drove us home, but I had insisted I'd be able to get him to bed. Stupid me. By the time we were done celebrating Mike and Henderson's engagement, Billie was beyond drunk, seeing as Mike had forgotten to keep him away from the fast-emptying cooler, and it was now making it damn near impossible to keep Billie standing. Mike and Henderson had only known each other for two weeks, and they were already engaged. That was crazy. But they seemed really happy, and that was the only thing that was important, I guess.

After about five minutes, I finally had Billie up the stairs. I walked him into his bedroom, trying not to trip over the mess of clothes scattered around the dark room as I guided him toward the bed.

"I'm tired."

I rolled my eyes. "Can't imagine why. It's only four o'clock in the morning," I muttered sarcastically.

He let out a groan as he fell onto the bed, his face hitting the pillow and muffling whatever he was mumbling. I figured he'd probably suffocate if he continued to eat his pillow, so I rolled him over onto his side and reached for the covers. I stopped when he caught my wrist.

I glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, and he grinned up at me. "You're sweet."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I know. I'm a saint."

In a matter of seconds, he pulled me down with him and rolled on top of me, pinning me underneath him.

"Billie! Knock it off and move!" A few seconds later, he lay still, and my eyes widened after I heard faint snoring.

"Billie? Billie, wake up and let me out. Billie? Billie?!" I nudged his shoulder as hard as I could. "God damn it. Why am I always stuck under you?!"