Anxiety, chapter 2
When I got home, I snuck through the back door and into the kitchen. My mother was nowhere in sight so I sped up the small flight of stairs and in my room. I quietly turned the doorknob and ducked under the caution banner I taped up.
"Where exactly have you been?" I heard her voice in my doorway. I grimaced, knowing I was caught. I nearly fainted when I saw the clock, which said 9:00 pm. It didn't feel like I was gone that long... Good thing it was Friday.
"And you smell... Awful..." She tugged her shirt to her nose. She let it go, but took a double take.
My face was awe-struck.
"You smell like..." She screwed up my face. I saw it coming. She liked to get me in trouble with Orion because she knew he hated me and felt guilty if she personally disciplined me. She left the room and told me to sit down and banged on Orion's door, oh-so-conveniently placed next to my own room.
Seconds later the doorway erupted with my Orion's face. He sniffed me heavily and shook his head.
"Sam, you're 15 years old."
"What? I didn't do anything!" My face turned beet red and I could feel another panic attack coming on. I knew that I'd only known them for short hours, but I really wish Billie and Mike were here. My mind flashed to the foggy garage with their frail bodies laying on the floor, passed out, reeking.
"Don't mess with me, Sam," He turned to my mother and told her we were done talking. My stomach dropped when he told me I was grounded for two weeks. Two weeks? I'll be dead and gone by then! Fuck.
I threw myself on my bed and stared out the tiny window next to it. My bed was but a matress - no frame. We were that poor, we can't even afford proper clothes or food for that matter, leaving me as skinny as a stick and just as depressed. I didn't notice until I rolled into a damp spot that tears were streaming down my face.
I thought for endless hours into the night, my mind wandering all the way from Billie and Mike to Alex. I saw real similarities in Alex and Mike Pritchard. Mike seemed so familiar, like somebody I'd known years before. An old friend of sorts.
I layed until I finally shut my eyes, fallen asleep in a daze of confusion and guilt.
***
I woke abruptly a few hours later, at 3:00 in the morning. There was a clacking on my window and a hand tapping on the glass. I jerked up and opened the window to reveal Mike's face, and Billie, struggling to climb the rungs of the metal ladder.
"We were listening. We're taking you away."
"Ugh, Mike, your ass is in my face," Billie said below him.
"Why would you do that..?" I stood up and helped Mike through the window, and Billie, who wasn't as thin as Mike and required extra help through the window.
"Because your mom is a bitch and we don't want you living with her." Billie flattened his shirt. I could smell the 'cigarettes' on him, and it made me feel invaded, but I tried to ignore it. Mike grabbed my hand and pulled me on the sill and out the window, where I fell on a pile of things Billie threw out the window. I grabbed the blanket and throw pillow and followed my friends - ah, how nice it is to finally have them - out into the street and to Billie's house.
I learned that Mike was basically homeless because of his own abusive mother. It made me feel better not only did they have anxiety but they had family problems as well. Billie only had a mother and his nice attitude told me he grew up with her.
"I only have one extra room.. And Mike kinda sleeps there, so uh..." I shrugged.
"A bed's a bed."
"You see, that's the problem..."
I nodded. "Whatever. I just wanna get away from home."
"Erm... You can stay in the second room I guess," Mike said.
"You mean your room?" Billie asked.
"Yeah. But I don't own it so it's not right." I smiled. Mike's such a nice guy. Really.
"Okay then, that's settled. Now all I have to do is explain why there's a girl sleeping in Mike's room." I laughed at Billie's statement. We walked up the stairs to his house and through the back door, all yawning at one time or another.
"Here's ya," Billie said, pointing to the extra room. He opened the door and let us go in. It was a room shaped like a triangle put on it's side. It smelled musty but there was no flat ceiling, just a steep slant. There was a small bed, and a cot on the other side of the room, next to a dresser with an unlit candle on it. I supposed the cot was mine. But before I made it to the bed Mike was already sitting on it.
"Really. I don't mind." He said, pulling a cover over him, reading my shocked expression. I shrugged, thanking him.
***
"Oh, hello Billie Joe," I heard a voice outside the door. It was cracked open slightly, and Mike's bed was empty. I rolled out of mine, put on my old chucks and left the room, closing the door quietly behind me, which evidently caught Mrs. Armstrong's attention. She turned and smiled at me.
"You must be Sam!" She said, hugging me. "Billie Joe's letting you stay, right?"
"Um, yeah," I smiled light-headedly. I wasn't up for human interaction so early in the morning. Mike looked around the corner and smiled.
"Yo." He had his bass in his left hand.
Billie came up behind me and poked me in the back.
"We're practicing. Wanna meet Tre?" (Yes, I am well aware when Sweet Children was a band Al Sobrante was the drummer. I think, personally, it would be more interesting having Tre instead of Al because I know nothing about Al's personality. So HAW. )
"Sure," I said, wondering who 'Tre' was. I guess I was a little un-urbanized, and it might be a gang term or somthing. Instead, I found out he was a spastic, short little shit, a year younger than Billie, donning some drumsticks.
When we entered the garage, Tre was behind an old drumset, banging away with his trashy sticks. He looked up and smiled the width of his face.
"Holy shit, you're Sam, right!?" He yelled, getting up and hugging me madly. Mike rolled his eyes and turned away.
"Mike's crushin' you," Tre said into my ear quietly, making Billie laugh. Mike didn't hear it, fortunately. I was a bit shocked at first but I continued being strangled by Sweet Children's drummer.
"He's joking, Mike doesn't even know your last name." Billie said, crossing his arms. Mike heard this and it caught his attention. He turned away from the amp and looked at me, then Billie.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He said, stupidly. I didn't notice it until Tre released me, but the garage reeked of drugs and I knew exactly why Mike was confused. He stumbled around the room with his bass.
Sitting dow next to me on the amplifier, Mike held his bass and let the fretboard rest above my legs. He played it quietly, trying not to interrupt Billie and Tre's wrestling match next to a junky oldsmobile.
"Do you play any instruments?" He asked me, not taking his eyes off his handiwork. His fingers moved smoothly over the frets.
"No." I said. He lifted the guitar up and sat it on my lap.
"Here. Put your thumb here, and put your other thumb behind the board. No, here." He moved his arm behind me to direct my hands to the right spots. The action bought Tre and Billie's attention who stopped dead in their duel and smiled at Mike, who shook his head. I didn't think anything of it - he was only helping me learn bass, right?
When I struck the string, it did nothing but buzz and make a loud screeching noise. Mike laughed and told me I needed to put more force on the sting, which I did, and made the note obviously better.
"There. Now you play bass." He put his arm on my hand again and directed it to the 5th fret in. Then the 7th, 4th on the second string, then the 5th, 4, 5 and 6 on the third. It sounded like a scale.
"Now you play more bass." I didn't notice Tre and Billie were standing, watching out of the corners of their eyes at the drumset.
I decided to go to the bathroom, so I got directions from Billie Joe and 'left'. I was accually standing outside the door to see what the heck was going on.
"You've got some serious tension going on with her, Mikey," It was faint through the wooden door.
"We're only friends... I don't even know her that well. So shut up."
I wanted to at least go to the bathroom to fix myself up. I hadn't looked in a mirror in 2 weeks and I was honestly afraid to look. I woke up feeling ass-backwards, so I felt vertigo going up the creaky stairs of Billie Joe's house. I thought for a second I might have fallen up the stairs but I only slipped a little at the top of the flight.
I wet down my hair and returned to the garage, where the trio were practicing a song. When I asked, Billie Joe smiled and said "At the Library!" in an excited tone. I could tell he loved playing with the two other band members because they jumped along with him. Even Tre, which served a bit of difficulty because he was drumming and moshing at the same time.
Three hours passed, and my mother crossed my mind. She must not know I've been gone yet because I haven't seen her storming around the neighborhood with Orion and her sharp cane.
"What's up with you?"
I didn't realize I leant back into the wall on the vibrating bass guitar amp with my mouth open. I closed my mouth quickly and looked at Billie who was staring.
"Brain fart?"
"Er, yeah. I kinda got... Spaced out..."
Tre smiled at my reply. "I know that feeling! I space out a lot, I don't know why..." Tre was still just a little kid. He was nearly two inches shorter than me, dressed in baggy jeans and a plaid button up shirt 14 sizes too big and an old, faded pair of tan chucks. His hair was a wreck, but I didn't mind. I didn't wake up my primest either.
"Anyway. Let's wrap this up, I'm hungry and I got a few extra bucks for solo at Gilman. Let's go get carry-out or some shit." Tre said, giddy, jumping off his seat with his sticks. Billie nodded in agreement and started putting his guitar in it's old case. I stared, unknowing what or who 'Gilman' was.
"I'll explain it later." Mike said quietly, unplugging the amp.
"Where exactly have you been?" I heard her voice in my doorway. I grimaced, knowing I was caught. I nearly fainted when I saw the clock, which said 9:00 pm. It didn't feel like I was gone that long... Good thing it was Friday.
"And you smell... Awful..." She tugged her shirt to her nose. She let it go, but took a double take.
My face was awe-struck.
"You smell like..." She screwed up my face. I saw it coming. She liked to get me in trouble with Orion because she knew he hated me and felt guilty if she personally disciplined me. She left the room and told me to sit down and banged on Orion's door, oh-so-conveniently placed next to my own room.
Seconds later the doorway erupted with my Orion's face. He sniffed me heavily and shook his head.
"Sam, you're 15 years old."
"What? I didn't do anything!" My face turned beet red and I could feel another panic attack coming on. I knew that I'd only known them for short hours, but I really wish Billie and Mike were here. My mind flashed to the foggy garage with their frail bodies laying on the floor, passed out, reeking.
"Don't mess with me, Sam," He turned to my mother and told her we were done talking. My stomach dropped when he told me I was grounded for two weeks. Two weeks? I'll be dead and gone by then! Fuck.
I threw myself on my bed and stared out the tiny window next to it. My bed was but a matress - no frame. We were that poor, we can't even afford proper clothes or food for that matter, leaving me as skinny as a stick and just as depressed. I didn't notice until I rolled into a damp spot that tears were streaming down my face.
I thought for endless hours into the night, my mind wandering all the way from Billie and Mike to Alex. I saw real similarities in Alex and Mike Pritchard. Mike seemed so familiar, like somebody I'd known years before. An old friend of sorts.
I layed until I finally shut my eyes, fallen asleep in a daze of confusion and guilt.
***
I woke abruptly a few hours later, at 3:00 in the morning. There was a clacking on my window and a hand tapping on the glass. I jerked up and opened the window to reveal Mike's face, and Billie, struggling to climb the rungs of the metal ladder.
"We were listening. We're taking you away."
"Ugh, Mike, your ass is in my face," Billie said below him.
"Why would you do that..?" I stood up and helped Mike through the window, and Billie, who wasn't as thin as Mike and required extra help through the window.
"Because your mom is a bitch and we don't want you living with her." Billie flattened his shirt. I could smell the 'cigarettes' on him, and it made me feel invaded, but I tried to ignore it. Mike grabbed my hand and pulled me on the sill and out the window, where I fell on a pile of things Billie threw out the window. I grabbed the blanket and throw pillow and followed my friends - ah, how nice it is to finally have them - out into the street and to Billie's house.
I learned that Mike was basically homeless because of his own abusive mother. It made me feel better not only did they have anxiety but they had family problems as well. Billie only had a mother and his nice attitude told me he grew up with her.
"I only have one extra room.. And Mike kinda sleeps there, so uh..." I shrugged.
"A bed's a bed."
"You see, that's the problem..."
I nodded. "Whatever. I just wanna get away from home."
"Erm... You can stay in the second room I guess," Mike said.
"You mean your room?" Billie asked.
"Yeah. But I don't own it so it's not right." I smiled. Mike's such a nice guy. Really.
"Okay then, that's settled. Now all I have to do is explain why there's a girl sleeping in Mike's room." I laughed at Billie's statement. We walked up the stairs to his house and through the back door, all yawning at one time or another.
"Here's ya," Billie said, pointing to the extra room. He opened the door and let us go in. It was a room shaped like a triangle put on it's side. It smelled musty but there was no flat ceiling, just a steep slant. There was a small bed, and a cot on the other side of the room, next to a dresser with an unlit candle on it. I supposed the cot was mine. But before I made it to the bed Mike was already sitting on it.
"Really. I don't mind." He said, pulling a cover over him, reading my shocked expression. I shrugged, thanking him.
***
"Oh, hello Billie Joe," I heard a voice outside the door. It was cracked open slightly, and Mike's bed was empty. I rolled out of mine, put on my old chucks and left the room, closing the door quietly behind me, which evidently caught Mrs. Armstrong's attention. She turned and smiled at me.
"You must be Sam!" She said, hugging me. "Billie Joe's letting you stay, right?"
"Um, yeah," I smiled light-headedly. I wasn't up for human interaction so early in the morning. Mike looked around the corner and smiled.
"Yo." He had his bass in his left hand.
Billie came up behind me and poked me in the back.
"We're practicing. Wanna meet Tre?" (Yes, I am well aware when Sweet Children was a band Al Sobrante was the drummer. I think, personally, it would be more interesting having Tre instead of Al because I know nothing about Al's personality. So HAW. )
"Sure," I said, wondering who 'Tre' was. I guess I was a little un-urbanized, and it might be a gang term or somthing. Instead, I found out he was a spastic, short little shit, a year younger than Billie, donning some drumsticks.
When we entered the garage, Tre was behind an old drumset, banging away with his trashy sticks. He looked up and smiled the width of his face.
"Holy shit, you're Sam, right!?" He yelled, getting up and hugging me madly. Mike rolled his eyes and turned away.
"Mike's crushin' you," Tre said into my ear quietly, making Billie laugh. Mike didn't hear it, fortunately. I was a bit shocked at first but I continued being strangled by Sweet Children's drummer.
"He's joking, Mike doesn't even know your last name." Billie said, crossing his arms. Mike heard this and it caught his attention. He turned away from the amp and looked at me, then Billie.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He said, stupidly. I didn't notice it until Tre released me, but the garage reeked of drugs and I knew exactly why Mike was confused. He stumbled around the room with his bass.
Sitting dow next to me on the amplifier, Mike held his bass and let the fretboard rest above my legs. He played it quietly, trying not to interrupt Billie and Tre's wrestling match next to a junky oldsmobile.
"Do you play any instruments?" He asked me, not taking his eyes off his handiwork. His fingers moved smoothly over the frets.
"No." I said. He lifted the guitar up and sat it on my lap.
"Here. Put your thumb here, and put your other thumb behind the board. No, here." He moved his arm behind me to direct my hands to the right spots. The action bought Tre and Billie's attention who stopped dead in their duel and smiled at Mike, who shook his head. I didn't think anything of it - he was only helping me learn bass, right?
When I struck the string, it did nothing but buzz and make a loud screeching noise. Mike laughed and told me I needed to put more force on the sting, which I did, and made the note obviously better.
"There. Now you play bass." He put his arm on my hand again and directed it to the 5th fret in. Then the 7th, 4th on the second string, then the 5th, 4, 5 and 6 on the third. It sounded like a scale.
"Now you play more bass." I didn't notice Tre and Billie were standing, watching out of the corners of their eyes at the drumset.
I decided to go to the bathroom, so I got directions from Billie Joe and 'left'. I was accually standing outside the door to see what the heck was going on.
"You've got some serious tension going on with her, Mikey," It was faint through the wooden door.
"We're only friends... I don't even know her that well. So shut up."
I wanted to at least go to the bathroom to fix myself up. I hadn't looked in a mirror in 2 weeks and I was honestly afraid to look. I woke up feeling ass-backwards, so I felt vertigo going up the creaky stairs of Billie Joe's house. I thought for a second I might have fallen up the stairs but I only slipped a little at the top of the flight.
I wet down my hair and returned to the garage, where the trio were practicing a song. When I asked, Billie Joe smiled and said "At the Library!" in an excited tone. I could tell he loved playing with the two other band members because they jumped along with him. Even Tre, which served a bit of difficulty because he was drumming and moshing at the same time.
Three hours passed, and my mother crossed my mind. She must not know I've been gone yet because I haven't seen her storming around the neighborhood with Orion and her sharp cane.
"What's up with you?"
I didn't realize I leant back into the wall on the vibrating bass guitar amp with my mouth open. I closed my mouth quickly and looked at Billie who was staring.
"Brain fart?"
"Er, yeah. I kinda got... Spaced out..."
Tre smiled at my reply. "I know that feeling! I space out a lot, I don't know why..." Tre was still just a little kid. He was nearly two inches shorter than me, dressed in baggy jeans and a plaid button up shirt 14 sizes too big and an old, faded pair of tan chucks. His hair was a wreck, but I didn't mind. I didn't wake up my primest either.
"Anyway. Let's wrap this up, I'm hungry and I got a few extra bucks for solo at Gilman. Let's go get carry-out or some shit." Tre said, giddy, jumping off his seat with his sticks. Billie nodded in agreement and started putting his guitar in it's old case. I stared, unknowing what or who 'Gilman' was.
"I'll explain it later." Mike said quietly, unplugging the amp.
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