Whatsername

"Tre, this is Kate... at least we think her name is Kate," Billie said with a sigh.

"You mean you're fucking this girl and you don't even know her name?" Tre asked with wide eyes.

"No! This morning I threw my cell phone and hit her in the head, and now she has amnesia, so she's staying with me for a while," Billie quickly explained.

"I know I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you don’t have to lie to me, Bill," Tre said, shaking his head in disappointment as he pushed past Billie and headed for the kitchen.

"I'm not lying!" Billie exclaimed, following Tre to the refrigerator.

"It's okay. You're divorced, Billie. You two can screw as much as you want. I won't mind... especially if you let me watch," Tre smirked, winking at me.

"Billie, who is this? He's creepy," I said, moving closer to Billie. Tre continued to smirk at me as he ate Billie's leftovers out of the fridge.

"You mean she doesn't know who I am?!" he suddenly gasped, staring wide-eyed at Billie, as if he was about to have a heart attack because I didn't know who he was.

"I told you she's lost her memory. She can't remember anything," Billie said as I hid behind him.

"Did you really hit her in the head with your cell phone?" Tre asked, finally starting to sound like he was believing him.

"Yes."

"On purpose?!"

"No!" Billie yelled. Tre nodded and quickly turned his attention back to me.

"Oh and, baby, the name's Cool, Tre Cool. The all holy drummer of Green Day. You can worship me later," he said, once again winking at me.

"Billie, I'm tired. Where am I sleeping?" I asked, completely ignoring Tre.

"Oooooh, sleepover!" Tre squealed, jumping up and down excitedly.

"Never mind. I'm not tired," I mumbled, wide-eyed.

"Here, I'll show you to the guest room," Billie said, grabbing my hand and leading me up the stairs to a room with a big bed and a connected bathroom.

"Wow."

"Um, so I'll get you one of my T-shirts and some shorts to wear. Is that okay?" he asked as I wandered around the fancy room.

"Sure. Thanks again, Billie," I said as he left the room.

"Peek-a-boo! I see you!" Tre sang as he skipped into the room.

"What do you want now?" I asked suspiciously.

"Just checking...." He smirked as he jumped on the bed.

"Checking what?"

"If you and Billie are fucking," he replied with a girlish squeal, still jumping up and down on the beautiful bed.

"What are you, his pimp?"

"No, if I was his pimp, I'd have a huge purple hat, and I'd have some stupid name--"

"Like Tre Cool? See, all you need is the hat." I smirked.

"You're cruel."

"You're creepy."

"You're hot."

"That's not an insult."

"It is if the person you're saying it to thinks you're creepy," he explained. I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever. And stop jumping on the fucking bed!" I yelled.

"Oooh, someone's got a potty mouth. Oh! And by the way, I do have the purple hat already. I was a pimp last Christmas," he said with a grin, finally sitting down.

"Christmas? Don't you mean Halloween?"

"No, it was Christmas. They would have expected it if it was Halloween," he explained.

"Tre, what the fuck are you doing in here?" Billie yelled, walking back into the room with a handful of clothes.

"Telling your new guest about our lovely adventures," he said, winking at Billie.

"Well, leave!"

"Fine! I can tell when I'm not wanted. I'm gonna go make smores!" he yelped, running out of the room.

"Is he always like this?" I asked after hearing random pots and pans crashing together from downstairs.

"Just wait till he eats those smores. He'll be running around the house all night long. Well, that's if he doesn't burn the house down trying to make them-- which reminds me, I better get down there and supervise. Are gonna be okay?" Billie asked as I went through the pile of clothes on the bed.

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Okay, night." He smiled, walking out the door.

"Night...."

Billie Joe's P.O.V.

I quickly ran downstairs to the kitchen and found Tre standing next to the microwave with a fire extinguisher in his hands.

"Just in case things go like last time," he said, pointing it towards the microwave.

"Wow. I'm impressed, Tre. You're finally learning from your mistakes."

"Yep," he said, smiling.

"Yep."

"Your new house guest is hot," he blurted out randomly as he opened the microwave door.

"You think so?"

"Fuck yeah. I need to start throwing shit and see if I hit someone as hot as her," he laughed.

"I guess she's pretty good looking...."

He smirked. "And by the looks of her shirt, she has a good taste for music-- and big boobs."

"You're right-- about the music part."

"Say whatever you want, Billie. I know you love them," he giggled.

Kate's P.O.V.

I woke up the next morning, groaning as the sun shined in through the blinds. I rolled over, trying to go back to sleep when I felt someone in the bed next to me.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?!" I screamed at Tre as he stared at me.

"Hey, calm down. Billie told me to watch you," he said, holding his hands up in defense.

"I doubt he meant literally, dumbass. Why did he want you to watch me?"

"He went to pick up his kids, and he told me to watch you till he came home."

"Oh."

"I made you breakfast." He smiled, lifting up a plate with very poorly made smores.

"Thanks. Didn't you make these last night...?" I asked, grabbing one and carefully examining it.

"Well, I made a bunch of them last night, and then I made a bunch more this morning."

"Wow, you must really like smores," I said, finally deciding to eat it.

"Mhmm," he agreed, biting into one himself.

"So, Mr. Cool, what are Billie's kids like?" I asked as we enjoyed our breakfast.

"They're just like normal kids, I guess. Why?"

"It's just, I hate children." I shrugged as Tre stared at me again.

"Well that's kind of harsh.... Anyway, let's listen to music!" he suddenly exclaimed, running out of the room.

I stood up and decided to follow him, which is what he was expecting evidently. As soon as I walked into the hall, he picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, and ran with me kicking and screaming to a room with a bunch of instruments, so I assumed it was their practice room, with them being a band and all.

"You know, I could have walked. Why did you have to carry me?" I asked as he sat me down. He shrugged.

"So you had a Green Day shirt on yesterday, but you have no clue who we are. Can you remember our music?" he asked a few minutes later as he went through Billie's CDs.

"Um... nope," I said after thinking about it.

"Well, let's see if this helps...." He grinned, picking up a CD called "International Super Hits" and putting it into the stereo. Smirking, he stared at the back of the case, handing me it as the first song started to play. "Don't I just look absolutely fucktastic on there?"

"Who's this?" I asked, pointing at the third guy on the back of the case.

"Damn, Billie Joe did hit you hard."

*********

"How about this one?"

"Nope."

"This one?"

"Um... no."

"This one?"

"No."

"This one?"

"Maybe...."

"Really?!"

"Wait, never mind."

"This is hopeless," Tre sighed after what seemed to be hours of listening to CDs.

"How long is it gonna be until Billie gets back?" I asked.

"He's here now," Tre said, looking out the window.

"Crap. I need to get dressed," I gasped, just realizing I was only wearing my underwear and Billie's shirt.

"Damn. I thought you wouldn't notice," Tre said with a melodramatic sigh.

I quickly ran out of the room. Billie was standing in the hall with two confused little boys on either side of him.

"Daddy, who is that girl, and why is she wearing your shirt?" the younger little boy asked, pointing at me.