Life Changes, chapter 5

Billie was pissed the rest of the week. I'd never known him to act like this. I didn't want to. He's usuallly a pretty laid back guy. I hated seeing him like this. He just kept on running around, pacing his garage, muttering things under his breath like,"He could have fucking told us earlier," or ,"Why did he even want to fucking join? Why did I let him?" I just sat on my usual crate and watched him. Back and forth. Forth and back.

Mike didn't really seem to notice. He just kept his nose in the newspaper. As long as Billie Joe and I had known Mike Dirnt, we had never known him to read anything (except the words on my sketches), much less the paper. He read on and on. He lifted his head. He was grinning from ear to ear. "What?" I said, breaking from my stare at Billie to Mike. "Oh, nothing," he said, glancing at Billie.

He put the paper down and sat on another crate next to me. He watched Billie. There was sort of a rythm in his step. I began tapping my knees. I couldn't help it. Mike smiled at me and began making bass noises and playing air guitar. Billie looked up from his pacing. He had a smirk on his face. I could tell he was trying not to smile. He was trying so hard... He couldn't help it. He had to laugh. He did and began singing. He just made up a song on the spot. I have to admit, it was pretty good.

When he finished, we all stopped and fell on the floor laughing. It was good to see Billie laughing again. "I...I...," he said through tears of joy,"I have to write that down!" He ran inside, still laughing, and came out about two minutes later with his song book and lucky pen. He let out a chuckle and sat on the stool that used to belong to John.

"Now," he said,"How did it go?" Mike answered him. "Welcome to a new kind of tension/All across the alien nation/Everything isn't meant to be okay," he said. "Cool," I said, smiling,"Now, what were you smiling about, Mike?" "Alright, alright," he said, grinning again. He stood up.

"There's a band playing at the Gilman. They're supposed to be really good," he said, leaning against the wall,"Maybe you've heard of them." "Who?" Billie asked, still writing and not looking up.

There was a pause. It lasted a while. I couldn't stop staring at Mike. Why wasn't he speaking? He had a shocked expression on his face. "Mike?" I said at last. He didn't answer. He began to worry me. I followed his gaze outside the garage. I gasped. I couldn't believe it. Not here. Not now. I wanted to scream. Billie looked up, curious to why we weren't talking, and stared.

It was my stepfather.

He was drunk.

And he looked angry.