And You Can't Tell Anyone, chapter 30
Wren ducked as a can of shaving cream went sailing through the air, trailing foam behind. Before it landed, Billie Joe had shut the door, with good reason. The can hit the bed and began twirling and rolling in a circle, foam spewing from the hole in its bottom in all directions.
Instinctively, Wren pounced on it and got a shot of lemony-freshness in her face. She was saved by Mike, who quickly threw a blanket over the can. Even though it was covered up, they could still hear it hissing like an angry snake.
Chuckling, Wren wiped the shaving cream off of her face as Billie Joe re-entered. "And that, ladies and gentlemen," he declared, "is how you get score points and make the girl feel better all in one."
Mike made a leap for Billie Joe, catching him around the legs. They hit the floor with a thud. Not even pausing to think, Wren dumped the can out of her blanket and raced over to Billie Joe. While he struggled she held the can over his face.
"Ack! Nnngh! Bleh! All right, all right. Uncle!" Just as a finishing touch, Wren used the last of the spray to draw a big smiley face over top of Billie Joe's shirt. "Lay off already, will you?"
"Oh, but she's in such a good mood, we have to spread it around." Further emphasizing the point, Mike lavishly smeared the shaving cream into Billie Joe's hair before releasing him.
Extremely disgruntled, Billie Joe gingerly touched his foamy hair. "Oh great, now I gotta wash it again before the show."
"Well, there's not much there to wash." Just to be thorough Wren ruffled the guitarist's hair, further mixing in the shaving cream. "You've got time, don't you? When does the gig start?" she asked.
Mike checked his watch, "We should be outta here in about half an hour."
"Half an hour!" Billie Joe exclaimed, "I'm never going to be ready!" Hurriedly, he scrambled to his feet and raced out.
"What's his problem?" Wren asked. "He's usually the last one in the car."
Mike grinned, "No, he's got to look good tonight. He's got a special someone coming to watch."
Wren let out a little squeal of delight. "The new girl? Shoot, what's her name again? I know it starts with an A..."
"Adrienne!" Billie Joe sung from the bathroom. "Her name is Adrienne, and I can't waaaaaait to see her again."
Mike rolled his blue eyes, "Looks like someone got bit by the love bug."
"Yeah, I think he's got it pretty bad," Wren commented. They lapsed into silence, listening to the faint humming coming from the bathroom. "I can't wait to meet the girl that's got him acting like...well, like's he's head over heels."
"I've heard a lot about her. I think you two could get along quite well. You've both got a dry sense of humour, or so I hear." Mike grinned, "It gets to the point where he's almost bragging and I sort of have to step in. Put him in his place and remind him he technically does not even have a girlfriend yet."
"Mi-ike and Wren!" Tré singsonged from the living room. "I wanna watch TV! I want to know if that bitch violated me when I was snoozing. C'mon, it could be Tré porn! You all want to watch Tré porn. Don't lie, you want it bad baby. Uh-hunh, yeeeeaaaah."
Wren looked at Mike quizzically as they made their way to the living room. In a few brief sentences, he detailed his acquisition of the pool tape.
"So," Wren frowned, "The guy that tried to beat you up is on our side?"
"It looks that way," Mike replied.
Tré looked up from his spot on the floor. "Maybe it's a decoy? How do we know this isn't a copy?"
Mike shrugged, "We don't."
"Then it could be a threat," Wren supplied. "We could watch this tape, see how incriminating it is, and then squirm because we know we're completely screwed."
"The only way to know, is to watch." Tré crawled over and put the tape into the machine. He turned on the TV and sat back.
The tape flickered and started playing. On the television, there was nothing more than a side shot of the pool. Not being one with a great deal of patience, Tré pushed the fast forward button. After a few minutes, a figure appeared on the screen. The drummer set the VCR to play. "Lookit that sexy bastard."
They watched as Tré snuck up to the pool, fumbling with his pants. Wren covered her eyes. "God, Tré porn," she muttered. "Tell me when it's safe."
There were a few snickers, and then Tré said, "Look now."
Sure, I'm going to trust him. You don't live with Tré for months and just suddenly do stuff that he tells you to. Wisely, she kept her hands over her eyes.
"Aw, man!" Mike groaned. "You didn't leave just a dookie? That's sick. Hey Wren, you can look."
Carefully, she peeked through her fingers. The television Tré was heading for the diving board. In silence they all watched as he crept up onto the board, looking furtive. Wren smiled as Tré did a fancy pirouette. Everyone laughed as he jumped up with a twirl and landed off balance on the board. For a half-second, he windmilled his arms before toppling into the pool with a huge splash of water.
Tré grinned, "I should've been a diver. That was a swan pike with like a loop the loop triple half bend."
Even though she knew what was coming, Wren still howled with laughter when Tré struck his head coming out of the pool.
"Shhh," Tré told her. "We're going to see the big sleep levitating trick."
Wren bit her lip, though the occasional chuckle made her shake a bit. On the television, the drummer sunk into the water limply. Involuntarily, she leaned forward as someone else entered the view of the camera. They crept over to the pool and reached out. Snagging Tré by the collar, they struggled for several minutes to haul him out. Wren felt shock ripple through her as the person gave one last tug and threw up their head.
Wren looked at Tré and Mike. Tré looked at Mike and Wren. Mike looked at Tré and Wren. All three of them looked back at the TV as Mirabelle Laterton tenderly caressed the unconscious drummer's cheek.
Running footsteps from the bathroom, heading for the kitchen, caused Mike snap out of his shock to yell, "What're you doing Billie?"
"Going to the store!"
"What do you need right now?" Wren asked.
"Shaving cream." The door opened and shut before she could start to taunt him.
Tré mumbled, "That's weird. I thought we just bought a new can." He shuddered dramatically, and yelled at the television. "Quit fucking touching me! Rape! Rape!"
As if she had heard, Mirabelle suddenly leapt to her feet and sprinted off. Seconds later, a large German Shepard trotted over. After sniffing Tré, it started to chomp on him. Wren winced in sympathy as the dog continued to bite. Mike arrived on the scene. Tré snickered as the Mike on TV ground to a stop and stared at the dog.
Wren cheered as Mike battled the canine, while Tré gave a commentary. "And he makes with a strong right....oh! Look at that, he's down. Grab, smack, smack some more. Pow! Take that you bitch!"
Mike crawled to his feet and dragged the drummer off screen. The three teens watched the dog scrabble out of the pool before shutting off the VCR.
"So now we know," Mike murmured. "Looks like someone's got a secret admirer." He waggled his eyebrows.
Tré shook his head. "It's fucking disgusting." He sighed with noble resignation. "You two may one as good looks as these, but they're sometimes a curse. Sure, you attract the hot stuff, but then you get the weirdoes."
Instinctively, Wren pounced on it and got a shot of lemony-freshness in her face. She was saved by Mike, who quickly threw a blanket over the can. Even though it was covered up, they could still hear it hissing like an angry snake.
Chuckling, Wren wiped the shaving cream off of her face as Billie Joe re-entered. "And that, ladies and gentlemen," he declared, "is how you get score points and make the girl feel better all in one."
Mike made a leap for Billie Joe, catching him around the legs. They hit the floor with a thud. Not even pausing to think, Wren dumped the can out of her blanket and raced over to Billie Joe. While he struggled she held the can over his face.
"Ack! Nnngh! Bleh! All right, all right. Uncle!" Just as a finishing touch, Wren used the last of the spray to draw a big smiley face over top of Billie Joe's shirt. "Lay off already, will you?"
"Oh, but she's in such a good mood, we have to spread it around." Further emphasizing the point, Mike lavishly smeared the shaving cream into Billie Joe's hair before releasing him.
Extremely disgruntled, Billie Joe gingerly touched his foamy hair. "Oh great, now I gotta wash it again before the show."
"Well, there's not much there to wash." Just to be thorough Wren ruffled the guitarist's hair, further mixing in the shaving cream. "You've got time, don't you? When does the gig start?" she asked.
Mike checked his watch, "We should be outta here in about half an hour."
"Half an hour!" Billie Joe exclaimed, "I'm never going to be ready!" Hurriedly, he scrambled to his feet and raced out.
"What's his problem?" Wren asked. "He's usually the last one in the car."
Mike grinned, "No, he's got to look good tonight. He's got a special someone coming to watch."
Wren let out a little squeal of delight. "The new girl? Shoot, what's her name again? I know it starts with an A..."
"Adrienne!" Billie Joe sung from the bathroom. "Her name is Adrienne, and I can't waaaaaait to see her again."
Mike rolled his blue eyes, "Looks like someone got bit by the love bug."
"Yeah, I think he's got it pretty bad," Wren commented. They lapsed into silence, listening to the faint humming coming from the bathroom. "I can't wait to meet the girl that's got him acting like...well, like's he's head over heels."
"I've heard a lot about her. I think you two could get along quite well. You've both got a dry sense of humour, or so I hear." Mike grinned, "It gets to the point where he's almost bragging and I sort of have to step in. Put him in his place and remind him he technically does not even have a girlfriend yet."
"Mi-ike and Wren!" Tré singsonged from the living room. "I wanna watch TV! I want to know if that bitch violated me when I was snoozing. C'mon, it could be Tré porn! You all want to watch Tré porn. Don't lie, you want it bad baby. Uh-hunh, yeeeeaaaah."
Wren looked at Mike quizzically as they made their way to the living room. In a few brief sentences, he detailed his acquisition of the pool tape.
"So," Wren frowned, "The guy that tried to beat you up is on our side?"
"It looks that way," Mike replied.
Tré looked up from his spot on the floor. "Maybe it's a decoy? How do we know this isn't a copy?"
Mike shrugged, "We don't."
"Then it could be a threat," Wren supplied. "We could watch this tape, see how incriminating it is, and then squirm because we know we're completely screwed."
"The only way to know, is to watch." Tré crawled over and put the tape into the machine. He turned on the TV and sat back.
The tape flickered and started playing. On the television, there was nothing more than a side shot of the pool. Not being one with a great deal of patience, Tré pushed the fast forward button. After a few minutes, a figure appeared on the screen. The drummer set the VCR to play. "Lookit that sexy bastard."
They watched as Tré snuck up to the pool, fumbling with his pants. Wren covered her eyes. "God, Tré porn," she muttered. "Tell me when it's safe."
There were a few snickers, and then Tré said, "Look now."
Sure, I'm going to trust him. You don't live with Tré for months and just suddenly do stuff that he tells you to. Wisely, she kept her hands over her eyes.
"Aw, man!" Mike groaned. "You didn't leave just a dookie? That's sick. Hey Wren, you can look."
Carefully, she peeked through her fingers. The television Tré was heading for the diving board. In silence they all watched as he crept up onto the board, looking furtive. Wren smiled as Tré did a fancy pirouette. Everyone laughed as he jumped up with a twirl and landed off balance on the board. For a half-second, he windmilled his arms before toppling into the pool with a huge splash of water.
Tré grinned, "I should've been a diver. That was a swan pike with like a loop the loop triple half bend."
Even though she knew what was coming, Wren still howled with laughter when Tré struck his head coming out of the pool.
"Shhh," Tré told her. "We're going to see the big sleep levitating trick."
Wren bit her lip, though the occasional chuckle made her shake a bit. On the television, the drummer sunk into the water limply. Involuntarily, she leaned forward as someone else entered the view of the camera. They crept over to the pool and reached out. Snagging Tré by the collar, they struggled for several minutes to haul him out. Wren felt shock ripple through her as the person gave one last tug and threw up their head.
Wren looked at Tré and Mike. Tré looked at Mike and Wren. Mike looked at Tré and Wren. All three of them looked back at the TV as Mirabelle Laterton tenderly caressed the unconscious drummer's cheek.
Running footsteps from the bathroom, heading for the kitchen, caused Mike snap out of his shock to yell, "What're you doing Billie?"
"Going to the store!"
"What do you need right now?" Wren asked.
"Shaving cream." The door opened and shut before she could start to taunt him.
Tré mumbled, "That's weird. I thought we just bought a new can." He shuddered dramatically, and yelled at the television. "Quit fucking touching me! Rape! Rape!"
As if she had heard, Mirabelle suddenly leapt to her feet and sprinted off. Seconds later, a large German Shepard trotted over. After sniffing Tré, it started to chomp on him. Wren winced in sympathy as the dog continued to bite. Mike arrived on the scene. Tré snickered as the Mike on TV ground to a stop and stared at the dog.
Wren cheered as Mike battled the canine, while Tré gave a commentary. "And he makes with a strong right....oh! Look at that, he's down. Grab, smack, smack some more. Pow! Take that you bitch!"
Mike crawled to his feet and dragged the drummer off screen. The three teens watched the dog scrabble out of the pool before shutting off the VCR.
"So now we know," Mike murmured. "Looks like someone's got a secret admirer." He waggled his eyebrows.
Tré shook his head. "It's fucking disgusting." He sighed with noble resignation. "You two may one as good looks as these, but they're sometimes a curse. Sure, you attract the hot stuff, but then you get the weirdoes."
