Where'd You Go? (Track Twelve, III), chapter 4
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A little dazed, Wren wandered into her room. It was in more of a mess then she had left it. Plopping down on the skewed bed, she thought.
Mike kissed me. Michael Ryan Pritchard Dirnt kissed me. It hadn't been very romantic, to tell the truth. More like a brother. But, he wanted to do it when the guys weren't looking. I'd like to go kiss him back, but not right in front of the guys. Just in case he turned me down.
There was a soft knock at her door. "What?"
"It's me," Billie's voice was lacking any excited flair.
"Come in then." He entered slowly, shutting the door behind himself. At this seriousness, Wren joked, "What, did somebody die?"
"No." He looked around the room for a bit. Like green darts, his eyes settled on Wren and pinned her gaze. "If you're crushing on Mike, why don't you tell him?"
Of course, I could never hide anything from Billie Joe-Know-It-All.
That didn't mean she couldn't try. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Either that or you're pissed at him," Billie Joe went on like she hadn't spoken. He shoved his hands into his rather tight pants and leaned on the door. "That's what he thinks."
"How?" Wren was confused, completely confused.
"You edge away when he sits beside you. It's like you're afraid to touch him. And just now, you just pulled the ice queen trick."
"I'm not mad at him," Wren muttered.
Kinda the opposite.
"Good, 'cause I hate all this soap opera bullshit. Now, come into the living room and show everyone that you're not a bitch."
Wren rose and exited through the door that Billie Joe held open chivalrously. As they made their way down the hall, he slung an arm around her shoulder.
"You're coming to the gig."
"That's not a question, is it?"
Billie Joe affectionately rested his head on Wren's. "Not at all"
As they entered the room, Billie Joe released her. Tré was already playing his drums. Mike was lifting his bass's strap onto his shoulders. Regally, Tré pointed at Wren with a drumstick.
"Know all ye people that this here girl, I dub her, Treachery! All know Trech."
"You're just mad because I outsmarted you, and Mike out-drove you." Wren smiled primly. Billie Joe ruffled her hair as he went by to pick up his guitar.
What followed were several hours of three talented young men doing what they did best. That meant playing around, and playing their instruments amid the revelry. Wren could not resist watching in awe as Mike's long fingers traveled up and down his bass's neck. After practicing for some time, they moved onto new works in progress.
As he wiped his forehead, Billie commented, "Hey Mike."
Mike tousled his own hair, making Wren's fingers itch to do the same. "Yeah?"
"That new one, that we got the bass and guitar struggling? What if we change the second and third chords to match at the intro, and move the melody a bit faster?"
Tré made a wild drum roll. "Faster, faster, faster!"
"As much as I love this, I'm gonna go get something to eat. P.B. sandwiches all right?" Wren could swear that Billie Joe almost frowned. A stiff look settled over Mike's bony features. Tré was the only one acting normal, trying to poke his stick into the high hat and pulling it out before the top cymbal came down.
If you could call that normal.
He tapped on his snare and hummed to himself. "Yeah, sure. Two."
"Anyone else? Last call, then you make your own."
"Yeah," Billie Joe started fussing with his tuning, "get me an' Mike one."
As Wren slipped into the kitchen, the song started up. What was the big deal with me missing one song? she wondered. She found a plate and began piling completed sandwiches onto it. The sounds drifting in from the jam session sounded fabulous. [i]Oh well, next time they practice, I'll definitely have to sit in and listen to this one.[i]
Mike kissed me. Michael Ryan Pritchard Dirnt kissed me. It hadn't been very romantic, to tell the truth. More like a brother. But, he wanted to do it when the guys weren't looking. I'd like to go kiss him back, but not right in front of the guys. Just in case he turned me down.
There was a soft knock at her door. "What?"
"It's me," Billie's voice was lacking any excited flair.
"Come in then." He entered slowly, shutting the door behind himself. At this seriousness, Wren joked, "What, did somebody die?"
"No." He looked around the room for a bit. Like green darts, his eyes settled on Wren and pinned her gaze. "If you're crushing on Mike, why don't you tell him?"
Of course, I could never hide anything from Billie Joe-Know-It-All.
That didn't mean she couldn't try. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Either that or you're pissed at him," Billie Joe went on like she hadn't spoken. He shoved his hands into his rather tight pants and leaned on the door. "That's what he thinks."
"How?" Wren was confused, completely confused.
"You edge away when he sits beside you. It's like you're afraid to touch him. And just now, you just pulled the ice queen trick."
"I'm not mad at him," Wren muttered.
Kinda the opposite.
"Good, 'cause I hate all this soap opera bullshit. Now, come into the living room and show everyone that you're not a bitch."
Wren rose and exited through the door that Billie Joe held open chivalrously. As they made their way down the hall, he slung an arm around her shoulder.
"You're coming to the gig."
"That's not a question, is it?"
Billie Joe affectionately rested his head on Wren's. "Not at all"
As they entered the room, Billie Joe released her. Tré was already playing his drums. Mike was lifting his bass's strap onto his shoulders. Regally, Tré pointed at Wren with a drumstick.
"Know all ye people that this here girl, I dub her, Treachery! All know Trech."
"You're just mad because I outsmarted you, and Mike out-drove you." Wren smiled primly. Billie Joe ruffled her hair as he went by to pick up his guitar.
What followed were several hours of three talented young men doing what they did best. That meant playing around, and playing their instruments amid the revelry. Wren could not resist watching in awe as Mike's long fingers traveled up and down his bass's neck. After practicing for some time, they moved onto new works in progress.
As he wiped his forehead, Billie commented, "Hey Mike."
Mike tousled his own hair, making Wren's fingers itch to do the same. "Yeah?"
"That new one, that we got the bass and guitar struggling? What if we change the second and third chords to match at the intro, and move the melody a bit faster?"
Tré made a wild drum roll. "Faster, faster, faster!"
"As much as I love this, I'm gonna go get something to eat. P.B. sandwiches all right?" Wren could swear that Billie Joe almost frowned. A stiff look settled over Mike's bony features. Tré was the only one acting normal, trying to poke his stick into the high hat and pulling it out before the top cymbal came down.
If you could call that normal.
He tapped on his snare and hummed to himself. "Yeah, sure. Two."
"Anyone else? Last call, then you make your own."
"Yeah," Billie Joe started fussing with his tuning, "get me an' Mike one."
As Wren slipped into the kitchen, the song started up. What was the big deal with me missing one song? she wondered. She found a plate and began piling completed sandwiches onto it. The sounds drifting in from the jam session sounded fabulous. [i]Oh well, next time they practice, I'll definitely have to sit in and listen to this one.[i]
