And You Can't Tell Anyone, chapter 34
She was awake to see the sun rise. In fact, she had never fallen fully asleep in the first place. Often, she would doze off and then awaken with a start minutes later. As soon as her digital clock showed 6:00, she got off the floor by the window. She had not dared to rest near the door, because that would be where he would come in. Now, she had to go out there, to call a cab.
Stealthily, she slid the bed back just enough to allow her to get through. Tip-toeing with every never stretched to its limit she crept to the living room. It was like some sort of insane obstacle course, trying to get around the odd beer bottle, not trip in cords, and avoid kicking couch cushions. As she picked up the phone book, her hands were shaking so badly, she was afraid she would drop it. Forever seemed to come and pass as she dialled the phone number. For the address, she gave them a house down the street. If I have to leave my room to wait for the cabbie, I'm going to do it somewhere away from here.
Noises from the hallway made her freeze. Her heart was pounding so hard and so fast that she thought it would explode out of her chest. Irrationally, she darted behind Tré's drum kit to hide. Unfortunately, she brushed the ride cymbal in her haste and it set up a ringing hiss. Terror screamed in her mind as she vainly crouched behind the bass drum. Oh please, oh please, don't let him find me. Wren curled herself up into a ball and waited.
"What are you doing?" She nearly passed out as she recognized Billie Joe's sleepy sounding voice.
"Uh, nothing. I was, uh, looking for...my earring." She smiled up at him nervously.
He blinked slowly and scratched his head. "Okaaaaay. Well, uh, did you find it?"
"No, but I guess Tré'll step on it sooner or later." She tried to change the subject, since she was having trouble manufacturing excuses about the jewellery. It was only because he was still half asleep that she was actually succeeding at the moment. "What are you doing up so early?"
"Nothing. I just had to go to the bathroom." A smile edged across his face, "Hey, if you were a girl, what would you want for breakfast if you'd just woke up?"
Wren came out from behind the kit so she could playfully punch him. "I am a girl, you goof. What, are you going to make me breakfast?" She raised an eyebrow. "Or is this someone else?" Billie Joe's face beamed a smile, and a bit of colour flooded his cheeks. Wren shook her head, "You dog. I'm going to miss you." As soon as she said it, she realized she had made a mistake.
Billie Joe's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean? Where are you going?"
"I, I, I meant when you go on tour," she stammered.
He put a hand on her shoulder, "Don't lie. You weren't looking for an earring, you were hiding. Wren, what's going on?"
"Nothing. Honest. I really was looking for the earring."
"Like hell you were. Look me in the eyes and say that." Wren tried to lift her gaze to his hazel-green stare, but she could not. "Exactly. Now what's going on?"
"Billie," she pleaded, "You have to be quiet. Promise me you won't say anything to Mike, but if you have to, wait until eight o'clock." The flight leaves at eight fifteen, so I should be safe. "Promise?"
Billie Joe set his lips in a grim line. For a moment, she thought he would refuse. Instead, he sighed, "Fine. Now make with the explaining."
"I'm going away, and I probably am not coming back."
"WHA--" Wren shushed him frantically. He closed his mouth and then began anew. "What do you mean you're not fucking coming back? Does Mike--No, because you want me not to tell anyone. Wren, what the hell? Why?"
"I can't say, alright? I'm just going."
"Wren, if you two had another fight, this a little drastic, don't you think?" His hand on her shoulder tightened a bit more. "He's going to be a dad. Don't you think that he should know where his kid is?"
"Billie, it's not like I'm going to drop off the face of the earth." Wren rolled her eyes, "I'll call you and Tré. We'll keep in touch. I'll let you all know what's going on."
The guitarist shook his head. "Me an' Tré, but not Mike. That's harsh. Is he as pissed about this, whatever it was, as you are?"
"I'm not angry!" She felt those horrible tears start to come back. In a passionate whisper, she told him, "I didn't want it to end like this. He's the one who's angry. I'll be the one that after I finish phoning here, I'll cry because I can't talk to him."
"You know, I've got more than half a right mind to drag you into his room and make you two sort this out." He set his jaw unhappily.
"No!" She lowered her voice again, "Please, please, Billie, you can't do that. Just, stay quiet until eight, and then you can tell him. Can you just do this for me? As a Halloween present or something?"
He released her shoulder, "Fuck. I don't know if this is right." He stared down at the floor for some time.
"Billie, you aren't to blame in anything that happens. It's just between me and Mike."
"Where are you going?" he asked quietly.
"I've got a plane ticket to England. That day when my parents showed up, that's what it was about. They want me to come with them."
Billie Joe said nothing. Wren could not afford to wait another second. She hurried to her room and grabbed her pack. As she whipped the plane ticket out of its envelope, something caught her eye. It was a pick, one that she had "borrowed without permission" from Mike when she was first crushing on him. Picking up the mottled blue plectrum, she stuffed it into her pocket. Acting on impulse, she snatched a pen and scribbled out a hasty message on the envelope. Slowly, she kissed the paper and then left it on the dresser in plain view.
Walking fast and silent, she cruised into the kitchen. Billie Joe was standing there, watching her with sad eyes as she pulled on her jacket. Wren shoved her shoes onto her feet and then stood with her hand on the door. Billie Joe took in a deep breath, and let it out in a sigh. Wren bit her lip to prevent any loud whimpers from escaping. Quickly, she crossed the room and hugged him.
"I'm going to miss you," she whispered.
His arms tightened around her fiercely, "I'll miss you too."
In a sisterly fashion, she pecked him on the cheek. Stepping back out of his embrace, she looked at him one last time.
He nodded in response to her unspoken question. "I'll keep quiet." His eyes were getting overly-shiny.
Before he could unman himself by crying, Wren opened the door. "I'll see you around then. Maybe when you're famous, I'll come to a show."
"See you around," he mumbled. They met eyes one last time, and then she stepped out of the house and shut the door behind.
Up ahead, she could see the taxi. She hurried towards it and climbed inside.
"Where to?" the cabbie asked.
"The airport, please."
Stealthily, she slid the bed back just enough to allow her to get through. Tip-toeing with every never stretched to its limit she crept to the living room. It was like some sort of insane obstacle course, trying to get around the odd beer bottle, not trip in cords, and avoid kicking couch cushions. As she picked up the phone book, her hands were shaking so badly, she was afraid she would drop it. Forever seemed to come and pass as she dialled the phone number. For the address, she gave them a house down the street. If I have to leave my room to wait for the cabbie, I'm going to do it somewhere away from here.
Noises from the hallway made her freeze. Her heart was pounding so hard and so fast that she thought it would explode out of her chest. Irrationally, she darted behind Tré's drum kit to hide. Unfortunately, she brushed the ride cymbal in her haste and it set up a ringing hiss. Terror screamed in her mind as she vainly crouched behind the bass drum. Oh please, oh please, don't let him find me. Wren curled herself up into a ball and waited.
"What are you doing?" She nearly passed out as she recognized Billie Joe's sleepy sounding voice.
"Uh, nothing. I was, uh, looking for...my earring." She smiled up at him nervously.
He blinked slowly and scratched his head. "Okaaaaay. Well, uh, did you find it?"
"No, but I guess Tré'll step on it sooner or later." She tried to change the subject, since she was having trouble manufacturing excuses about the jewellery. It was only because he was still half asleep that she was actually succeeding at the moment. "What are you doing up so early?"
"Nothing. I just had to go to the bathroom." A smile edged across his face, "Hey, if you were a girl, what would you want for breakfast if you'd just woke up?"
Wren came out from behind the kit so she could playfully punch him. "I am a girl, you goof. What, are you going to make me breakfast?" She raised an eyebrow. "Or is this someone else?" Billie Joe's face beamed a smile, and a bit of colour flooded his cheeks. Wren shook her head, "You dog. I'm going to miss you." As soon as she said it, she realized she had made a mistake.
Billie Joe's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean? Where are you going?"
"I, I, I meant when you go on tour," she stammered.
He put a hand on her shoulder, "Don't lie. You weren't looking for an earring, you were hiding. Wren, what's going on?"
"Nothing. Honest. I really was looking for the earring."
"Like hell you were. Look me in the eyes and say that." Wren tried to lift her gaze to his hazel-green stare, but she could not. "Exactly. Now what's going on?"
"Billie," she pleaded, "You have to be quiet. Promise me you won't say anything to Mike, but if you have to, wait until eight o'clock." The flight leaves at eight fifteen, so I should be safe. "Promise?"
Billie Joe set his lips in a grim line. For a moment, she thought he would refuse. Instead, he sighed, "Fine. Now make with the explaining."
"I'm going away, and I probably am not coming back."
"WHA--" Wren shushed him frantically. He closed his mouth and then began anew. "What do you mean you're not fucking coming back? Does Mike--No, because you want me not to tell anyone. Wren, what the hell? Why?"
"I can't say, alright? I'm just going."
"Wren, if you two had another fight, this a little drastic, don't you think?" His hand on her shoulder tightened a bit more. "He's going to be a dad. Don't you think that he should know where his kid is?"
"Billie, it's not like I'm going to drop off the face of the earth." Wren rolled her eyes, "I'll call you and Tré. We'll keep in touch. I'll let you all know what's going on."
The guitarist shook his head. "Me an' Tré, but not Mike. That's harsh. Is he as pissed about this, whatever it was, as you are?"
"I'm not angry!" She felt those horrible tears start to come back. In a passionate whisper, she told him, "I didn't want it to end like this. He's the one who's angry. I'll be the one that after I finish phoning here, I'll cry because I can't talk to him."
"You know, I've got more than half a right mind to drag you into his room and make you two sort this out." He set his jaw unhappily.
"No!" She lowered her voice again, "Please, please, Billie, you can't do that. Just, stay quiet until eight, and then you can tell him. Can you just do this for me? As a Halloween present or something?"
He released her shoulder, "Fuck. I don't know if this is right." He stared down at the floor for some time.
"Billie, you aren't to blame in anything that happens. It's just between me and Mike."
"Where are you going?" he asked quietly.
"I've got a plane ticket to England. That day when my parents showed up, that's what it was about. They want me to come with them."
Billie Joe said nothing. Wren could not afford to wait another second. She hurried to her room and grabbed her pack. As she whipped the plane ticket out of its envelope, something caught her eye. It was a pick, one that she had "borrowed without permission" from Mike when she was first crushing on him. Picking up the mottled blue plectrum, she stuffed it into her pocket. Acting on impulse, she snatched a pen and scribbled out a hasty message on the envelope. Slowly, she kissed the paper and then left it on the dresser in plain view.
Walking fast and silent, she cruised into the kitchen. Billie Joe was standing there, watching her with sad eyes as she pulled on her jacket. Wren shoved her shoes onto her feet and then stood with her hand on the door. Billie Joe took in a deep breath, and let it out in a sigh. Wren bit her lip to prevent any loud whimpers from escaping. Quickly, she crossed the room and hugged him.
"I'm going to miss you," she whispered.
His arms tightened around her fiercely, "I'll miss you too."
In a sisterly fashion, she pecked him on the cheek. Stepping back out of his embrace, she looked at him one last time.
He nodded in response to her unspoken question. "I'll keep quiet." His eyes were getting overly-shiny.
Before he could unman himself by crying, Wren opened the door. "I'll see you around then. Maybe when you're famous, I'll come to a show."
"See you around," he mumbled. They met eyes one last time, and then she stepped out of the house and shut the door behind.
Up ahead, she could see the taxi. She hurried towards it and climbed inside.
"Where to?" the cabbie asked.
"The airport, please."
