Whatsername

Several hours later I stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot of boiling noodles, in my new clothes. It was nice to have something that was mine, and I could confirm that it was mine. With my other things, I couldn't be a hundred percent sure that they were mine because I couldn't remember them. Like the bracelet that was on my wrist; I had no idea how I had gotten it, and yet there it was. There must have been a story behind it, but I couldn't remember it, and it bugged me. Just looking at it gave me a weird, indescribable feeling. How can you be comfortable with something if every time you looked at it, you got a feeling like that? But with the new stuff, it was different. I knew it was mine because I could remember getting it. And it didn't make me feel funny. Maybe that was what I was supposed to do. Start new....

I looked down at my wrist and got an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. I quickly unfastened the clasp on the bracelet and stuck it in the pocket of my jeans and continued cooking dinner.

Earlier Tre had assumed that since he was buying me my new wardrobe, he would get to decide what I got, which if I had let him do that, I would have been standing in the middle of the kitchen looking like a prostitute. We eventually found a happy medium, though. I got a bunch of T-shirts and shorts, a pair of jeans, and a lot of other necessary items. And the compromise was I had to agree to let Tre pick out a miniskirt and what he decided to call a "Bootylicious party dress". Since I wouldn't let him call it a "pretty, pretty dress", he chose that instead.

The sound of drums pounding from somewhere in the house made me snap out of my thoughts and realize I had just put twice as much butter as I was planning. I quickly tried to fish it out with the spoon before it melted, but it was too late....

"Oops," I mumbled to myself as I stared into the pot.

"What do you mean, 'oops?'" a voice asked from behind me. I turned around, holding the wooden spoon as if it was a weapon.

"Oh my gosh, you scared me," I said with a sigh of relief after seeing it was Billie.

"Sorry... what are you making?" he asked, looking into the pot.

"Um... I'm not quite sure yet," I laughed.

"Well, it smells and looks good," he said, smiling reassuringly.

"The real question is if it tastes good."

"Let's find out," he said, picking up the spoon, licking it, and sticking it back in the pot.

"Ew."

"It's really good," he mumbled, licking his lips as he completely ignored my last comment.

"Yeah, but now it has your germs in it," I said, scrunching up my nose in disgust.

He smirked. "You should feel honored. There are thousands of girls out there who would love to eat pasta with my germs in it."

"You are so full of yourself," I mumbled, shaking my head as I reached up into the cabinet above me to get the pepper when I felt that stabbing pain in my side again, which caused me to yelp and double over in pain. I looked over my shoulder and saw Billie quickly pulling his hand away from me. He must have touched one of my bruises.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay...."

"Where did all these bruises come from?" he asked with wide eyes after lifting my shirt up and gawking at all the purple and blue marks across my stomach.

"I don't know. They're on my back too," I said, turning around.

"It doesn't look like you got these by accident, Kate," he said, lightly grazing his fingers across my back, making me shiver and wince slightly when he touched a bruise. I bit my lip, thinking this was a little bit awkward. We'd had a lot of awkward situations in the past couple days, actually. I wondered what that would have looked like if someone walked in the room right about then. It would have probably looked like Billie was giving me some weird massage, or trying to unhook my bra, or something like that.

"I know," I sighed.

"Why didn't you tell me about these?" he asked, suddenly turning me around so I was facing him again. He looked angry.

"I don't know, I didn't think it would be anything to worry about."

"What are you talking about?! Of course it's something to worry about!" he shouted.

"Shhh, Tre will hear you," I whispered.

"So?!"

"If he finds out, he'll overreact and do something stupid."

"Well, it's better than underreacting!"

"That's not even a word, and I am not!"

"You are too! You probably weren't even gonna tell me, were you?!"

"No."

"Why not?!" he exclaimed.

"Because I didn't think it was that big of a deal!"

"Not that big of a deal?! Someone's been hurting you!"

"But they're not hurting me now!"

"That's not the point! We need to do someth--"

"What are you two doing in here?" Tre asked, walking through the kitchen door.

"I'm making dinner," I said, turning back to the stove.

"And that involves you and Billie Joe yelling at each other?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We're not yelling at each other!" Billie and I shouted in unison.

"Okay, okay, geez. I'll be in the dining room if you need me," he mumbled, walking out the door.

Tre's P.O.V.

As I sat in the dining room, enjoying the delicious stuff Kate made, I watched her and Billie make weird faces at each other from across the table... and I got more and more confused by the minute.

"Billie, could you please pass me a piece of bread?" Kate asked quietly.

"I don't know. If I give it to you, will you hide it from me and not tell me about it?" he asked.

"Billie," she sighed.

"And if I do accidentally find out about it, will you tell me it's no big deal and you didn't think it would be anything to worry about?" he asked, trying his best to imitate her voice.

"Well, if I do actually tell you, will you totally overreact and start yelling at me, even though I'm just as confused about it as you are?!" she shouted.

"Okay, guys, I'm not sure what this has to do with bread, but could you please stop yelling at each other?" I asked, leaning over the table and handing Kate a piece of bread myself.

"Thank you, Tre," she said quietly.

"You're welcome. Now, you two better stop shouting 'cause if you keep it up, the neighbors are gonna call the police, and we'll have even more shit to deal with."

"She's the one yelling," Billie mumbled under his breath, and Kate rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to bed!" she yelled as she stood up and walked upstairs. I winced after I heard her door slam.

I still have no idea why they were mad at each other, but I'm guessing it wasn't really about bread....

Kate's P.O.V

"Asshole," I mumbled to myself as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. How could he be mad at me? If anybody should have been mad, it should have been me. I was the one whose life had just gotten ruined because he was an idiot that throws things. And he assumed that since I had known him for a couple days, I was supposed to tell him everything. Was I just supposed to automatically trust him?

I looked across the room and saw my bracelet sticking out of the pocket of my jeans, which were now lying on the floor. I stood up and grabbed the bracelet. I was about to throw it in the trash when something caught my eye.

"R.F. + K.A.B, forever?" I read off the back of the bracelet.

What the fuck?

______________________________________ ---

"Tre, can you tell Billie to change the channel?" I asked as we watched TV the next day.

"Tre, can you tell Kate that I'm not going to change the channel?" Billie smirked.

"Tre, can you tell Billie he's a jackass?" I asked, glaring at Billie.

"Kate says you're a ja--"

"Yeah, Tre, I get it!" Billie interjected.

"You know what, guys, I'm not gonna sit here and watch you two argue when I have no clue why you're arguing in the first place, so I'm going home!" Tre shouted, standing up and walking out the front door, slamming it shut.

"Woah," Billie and I whispered.

"Tre looks pissed," Billie mumbled as he stared at the floor.

"Well, it's your fault," I replied matter-of-factly.

"No, it isn't."

"Yeah, it is!"

"How is this my fault?!" he shouted, standing up.

"How is it not?! If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be fighting right now!" I yelled, standing up myself so I was back at his eye level.

"Me?!" he gasped in disbelief.

"Yes, you!"

He scoffed. "Yeah, 'cause I'm just some insane rock star with an anger problem!"

"Well, you're not doing a good job at proving me wrong, are you?!" I smirked.

"Shut up!"

"No! And now that I think about it, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't even be here!"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he said, rolling his eyes, and I stared at him in disbelief.

"It is!"

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, moving closer to me. I stepped back, and he kept coming closer and closer. I continued stepping back until my legs hit the arm of the couch.

"What is wrong with you?! How could you even thi-- why are looking at me like tha--"

And before I knew it, my back was being pressed against the couch cushions with Billie on top of me, our lips crashing together.