Whatsername

"B-four?"

"Miss. D-eight?"

"Ugh, hit. E-five?" Tre asked hopefully as he grabbed a red peg and reluctantly placed it in one of his ships.

"Nope, miss. C-eight?" I asked with a smile.

Tre glanced down at his board and groaned. "Damn you! I swear when Billie hit you in the head you got psychic powers! You are way too good."

I grinned and watched him place another red peg on his board. "What can I say? Battle Ship must be my thing."

His glare softened a little and he bit his lip, deciding what to call. "A... fiiiive."

"Miss. B-eight?" I asked, and his eyes widened.

"You sunk my Battle Ship! No! I hate you!" Plastic pegs went flying across the room as his yelling continued. "How can you do that?! I didn't get one hit, and you sunk all of mine! Damn your magical board game powers!"

"Tre, calm down. Everyone beats you at this game," Billie said, rolling his eyes as he returned from the bathroom.

Tre raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"You always lose at this game, 'cause you always put all your ships at the bottom! Every... single... time."

I giggled. "Damn, Billie, I was having fun messing with him. You should have waited a couple more games before you told him."

Tre looked at me indignantly. "You cheated! I can't believe you'd do that to me! Cheaters! You're all cheaters!"

"Says the man who forged his own Monopoly money...," Mike muttered from across the room. Henderson, who was lying comfortably on top of Mike, giggled and snuggled deeper into the couch.

"Yeah, he went on and on about how he was 'so awesome' at the game-- only 'cause he had a couple grand and a handful of hotels stuffed down his socks! Mike locked him out of the house after he tried convincing me to play strip Candy Land," she said with a grin.

I shook my head. "What is your fixation with being naked and playing board games?" I asked, turning to Tre with a tired sigh.

He blinked and stared at me blankly. "Isn't it obvious?"

"You scare me," I said slowly, scooting toward Billie.

"I thought you were over the whole 'Tre's weird' thing. Guess she's decided to go back to that stage, huh?" Billie muttered thoughtfully, and Mike and Henderson nodded lazily.

"Hey," I said, lightly slapping Billie's hand as he tried to rest it on my shoulder, "I've never been okay with Tre's pervertedness. I had just learned to ignore the majority of it."

"Thanks, love," Tre said as he lay on the floor, making what I could only assume was a carpet angel.

Billie pouted and rubbed his hand. "You're way too violent. You don't know your own strength! Just imagine what would have happened if you'd broken it: millions of heartbroken fans crying their eyes out because the gorgeous lead singer of their favorite band was injured by you!"

"Pussy," I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes.

"Hey, guys! Look what I found!" A loud thump came from underneath me, and I quickly pulled my skirt tighter to my legs as Tre's head emerged from under the couch. "My Frisbee!"

"That's great, Tre. Why don't we go outside and throw it around for a while?" Mike asked, suddenly excited. Henderson groaned and stood up with Mike and followed a bouncing Tre toward the back door.

"That was fast," I mumbled, blinking.

"I think you did break it," Billie said, examining his wrist, and I rolled my eyes.

After several more minutes of Billie explaining why he was so delicate, the phone rang. Billie jumped up and immediately started running toward the kitchen, and I smirked, jumping over the back of the couch, and beat him to the kitchen door.

"Hah!" I yelled, pushing my back against it, blocking Billie from coming in.

"Let me in!" he whined as the phone continued to ring, until finally the answering machine clicked, an old recording of Billie's voice telling people to leave a message, because he and his wife were busy having wild, animal-like sex on his couch. My stomach lurched. That made it apparent that Billie rarely used his machine, seeing as he hadn't changed it yet.

But the thought of him needing to record a new message-- and possibly buy a new couch-- completely left my mind as a rough, middle-aged woman's voice spoke after the beep.

"Hello, this is officer Carol Haywood from Oakland police department, and I'm trying to get a hold of a Miss Katherine Abigail Baxter. Her description matches a girl that visited an Urgent Care on the 22nd of last month, claiming she had no recollection of her identity, and we were given this number and a cell phone number in case we needed to contact her. We have been trying to call both numbers, and anytime it has actually been answered we have been told she isn't staying there and nothing more, so if you can call us back and let us know where she is now, it would be in your best interest to do so. Please note that this is your last call before we are forced to take legal actions."

After the final beep, I stepped forward and stared at the phone, my eyes wide and disbelieving. I heard the kitchen door open and listened as Billie slowly stepped toward me. I could hardly comprehend what I had just heard come from the machine, let alone what Billie was trying to splutter out now. I finally turned around and stared at him as he shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"Why didn't you tell me this?" I asked quietly. I was surprised by how calm my voice was, because, on the inside, my mind was screaming. I felt like I had been betrayed by the only person that I thought I could trust, and I wanted to punch him, yell at him.

He sighed and bit his lip. "I tried to, I swear. I tried. Several times."

"And why didn't you?" I asked, my voice raising slightly. It was frustrating, the way he always side-stepped the question and made everything so vague. It was like he enjoyed this; was messing with my head his favorite form of entertainment?

"Because... because I knew you would leave."

I blinked. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You don't want me to find my family-- or who I am? You didn't want me to figure out where I belong?"

"No," he said, almost desperately, "I-I just didn't want you to leave...."

I couldn't believe him. I could feel tears swelling up in my eyes and I quickly brushed them away with the back of my hand as I glared at him. "What is this to you, some kind of game? Think you can just keep me here as a toy?"

"It's nothing like that!" he shouted, raising his arms in sudden frustration.

"Then what is it?!"

He opened his mouth and closed it several times, his breathing suddenly coming out in short gasps, and I shook my head as more tears fell down my face. For some time now, I had been able to know my name, know where I lived, everything I had been unable to remember, and he had kept it from me. The thing that made me feel so horrible, though, was that he didn't even have an excuse for what he had done.

"I was so stupid to think you actually cared about me," I whispered.

He looked at me with wide eyes. "I do care about you!"

I laughed. "If you had cared about me at all, you would have wanted me to find out. You wouldn't have hidden me from the rest of the world!"

"God! You don't get it!"

"Don't get what?!"

"It was the only way I could keep from losing you!" There was so much emotion in his words that I could hardly believe they had come from his mouth.

"What are you talking about?" I asked weakly. "If you had just let me know this, I would have been able to see you again. I don't get what you're say--"

"You have a fiance!" he screamed, making me jump back as he slammed his fists onto the counter.

I remained silent for several seconds as I watched Billie try and catch his breath. "Wh--what?"

"You have a fucking fiance. He reported you missing two weeks ago, and someone recognized you from one the pictures on the news and called in a couple days ago," he muttered as he stared at the counter, until he finally looked me in the eyes again. "They've been fucking calling nonstop since, asking where you are, threatening me with all kinds of shit. I've been scared out of mind. I didn't know what to do! If I told them you were here, you'd be gone. If I had kept up telling them you had left, they would have eventually come and broken down my door. I... I didn't want to lose you... like I lost... Adrienne."

"Well, maybe you deserve it! You're so fucking selfish! You could have gotten arrested for this! And I can't believe you would lie to me like this-- you're disgusting!"

I was hyperventilating and it felt like the entire room was spinning and closing in on me. I had just been hit with so many things at once, I didn't know what to do anymore. All I felt like doing was yelling at Billie Joe.

"Why would you go through all of this?! You're a fucking celebrity! Damn you! You're ruining your entire career for this, and why--"

His lips were on mine before I had even noticed he moved, and his hands were on either side of my face, his fingers softly brushing against my cheeks as he kissed me. I finally found my footing a moment later and weakly pushed him away, and he staggered back a few feet.

"That's why," he gasped as I stared at him.

I had turned away and was running out of the room without really knowing the reason, only knowing it was too overwhelming to stay. He had hurt me in so many ways, and I just wanted to run, run as far away from him as possible. I flung open the front door and sprinted out of the house, heading for the street--

"Kate! Look out!"

I stopped and turned, but before I could see Mike, a flash of bright orange, a terrible pain to my left temple, a scream from Henderson, and I had fallen to the ground, unconscious.