Following The Green, chapter 4
For the next few days, Kelly insisted I stay in bed. Sometimes I would sweat buckets just thinking about heroine... or any drug, for that matter. But soon I was feeling better, though I still had a splitting headache that came on every once in a while. When Kelly wasn't around, though, the guys let me hang out in the other parts of the house. Apparently, the place I was staying at was the place Green Day resided at when they visited here. Which was fairly often. How come I hadn't seen them on the streets before, I had no idea. Probably because I was stoned out of my mind back then. My favorite part of the house was the Rec Room. There was a huge leather sofa in front of a giant plasma wide-screen TV. And plenty of arcade games, including a pool table.
While spending my last few days in my hometown (which I couldn't wait to leave), I enjoyed riding around in Billie Joe's black BMW, or just walking with the guys down the street. Somehow, the paparazzi didn't follow them here. It was like their private retreat. Still, mobs of kids would swarm us and practically kiss their shoes for autographs. Some of them remembered me, and stared at me as if to say, "Oh, my God. It's that poser, stoned kid. She's hanging out with GREEN DAY?!" And I just laughed and laughed.
Two days. I had two days to go till we left, and I couldn't wait. Of course, leave it to Kelly to force me to see my parents. I refused at first, but she promised me they couldn't do anything (I was over 18, thus, I could leave home if I wanted to). Plus, all my stuff was there. Also, the guys felt I should go. Since I wanted to go in the morning—and Mike and Tre were still asleep—Billie Joe drove me and Kelly there in his black BMW. As we drove down the deserted streets, my childhood flashed before my eyes. It wasn't too pretty.
Finally, we pulled up in front of the familiar brick house, identical to all the others on the street. My palms grew wet with sweat as we approached the front door. Kelly nodded to me, and I rang the doorbell. I barely noticed my hand was shaking and I pressed the button.
The next few minutes were the most excruciating in my life. It seemed like we stood there for years. I was about to say "No one's here, let's go," but then someone opened the door. Of course, it just HAD to be my little foster-brother. He looked pretty much the same, except taller. He still dressed in all black, even his Vans were black. My kid brother—as I remembered—had been somewhat like me. He'd loved punk-rock music... in fact, Green Day had been (and probably still was) his favorite band. So you can imagine the jaw-dropping look on his face when he saw me, his foster-sister who'd been gone for years, standing at his door with his idol Billie Joe.
"Uh... hey, TJ. Um... can we come in?" I asked. He pushed open the door and let us in, still speechless. We stood in the front hall for a moment before I heard a familiar voice from down the hall. "TJ, who was at the door?" My mom. Actually, my foster-mom. More memories hit me, like a painful punch in the face. Her footsteps echoed down the hallway as she drew near. Even though I kept my eyes on the floor, I could feel her presence as she entered the room.
"Oh... oh my God... " I finally looked up. She looked vaguely the same, except her skin had more wrinkles from years of working and her eyes looked weary. Her sky blue eyes pierced mine, giving me that look I'd gotten so many times before. She looked me up and down, then did the same to Billie Joe.
"Uh... hi... mom... uh... just thought we'd stop by... and... uh... oh, this is my... friend... Billie Jo--" I began. "We all know who he is." TJ interrupted suddenly. I gave him a look, which he eagerly returned. Billie Joe coughed somewhat nervously. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Johnson," He said, sticking out his hand. My mom ignored it. Billie Joe coughed again and shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Mom, why don't we all sit down in the living room and... talk about this?" Kelly said. Mom said nothing, just walked into the living room. We followed. TJ went upstairs. Me, Kelly, and Billie Joe all sat squished together on the sofa, and mom sat in the armchair opposite us. Kelly glanced at me, giving me the OK to start talking. I hadn't exactly planned out what I was going to say, but it all came pouring out.
I told her everything. From when I first left home to meeting St. Jimmy. From the first time I used to meeting "Green Eyes". From my second encounter with Green Eyes—only to find out he was the Billie Joe Armstrong of Green Day—to waking up in The House. And how I was leaving, with Green Day, going on all their tours and everything, in only two days. By the time I finished, I was on the verge of tears, but I forced myself not to cry in front of everyone.
For a while, no one spoke. I didn't see the expression on my mom's face because I was too busy staring at my old, worn out Vans. I knew I was too old for this shit, and I was acting like a baby, but I couldn't help it. I still felt like the teenager I'd been the first time I met St. Jimmy...
"Well. It is obvious you have learned your lesson. I'm glad you chose to return home. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Armstrong. Kelly, thank you for returning her. Now, we'll wait for your father to get home to decide your punishment." In one smooth move, my mother rose, towering before us.
I sat there for a moment, stunned. She was talking about me like a dog! And what's worse, she completely missed my point—on purpose or not, I wasn't sure—that I was leaving! Before Billie Joe or Kelly could say anything, I stood up to face my mom.
"This is just like you," I muttered through gritted teeth. "I'm not coming home. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. Anywhere is better than living here. These guys saved my life, picked me up off the streets, even though I was a nobody. They offered me—me, a drugged up junkie on the street—to come LIVE with them! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, but you don't seem to get that. I came here to get my stuff and say goodbye, because I'm leaving."
Not waiting to hear her response, I ran down the hallway, grabbed my suitcase, and entered my old room. I'd shared it with my three younger sisters. I opened the dresser drawers that had once been mine, pleased to find all my old stuff there. I threw in some clothes and other belongings. Then I walked back into the front room, where Kelly and Billie Joe were waiting. TJ was there, too, still gaping at Billie Joe. "Let's go," I told them. We began to head out the door when a voice stopped my cold.
"You said you're old enough to make your own decisions." My mother's voice came quietly from behind me. I paused, not turning around. "Just remember, your most recent decisions really screwed you up." I flinched as the insult struck me like a punch in the face. I knew she was referring to St. Jimmy. As much as I wanted to turn around a prove her wrong, I knew it was just what she wanted. So I walked out the door, leaving my past behind.
While spending my last few days in my hometown (which I couldn't wait to leave), I enjoyed riding around in Billie Joe's black BMW, or just walking with the guys down the street. Somehow, the paparazzi didn't follow them here. It was like their private retreat. Still, mobs of kids would swarm us and practically kiss their shoes for autographs. Some of them remembered me, and stared at me as if to say, "Oh, my God. It's that poser, stoned kid. She's hanging out with GREEN DAY?!" And I just laughed and laughed.
Two days. I had two days to go till we left, and I couldn't wait. Of course, leave it to Kelly to force me to see my parents. I refused at first, but she promised me they couldn't do anything (I was over 18, thus, I could leave home if I wanted to). Plus, all my stuff was there. Also, the guys felt I should go. Since I wanted to go in the morning—and Mike and Tre were still asleep—Billie Joe drove me and Kelly there in his black BMW. As we drove down the deserted streets, my childhood flashed before my eyes. It wasn't too pretty.
Finally, we pulled up in front of the familiar brick house, identical to all the others on the street. My palms grew wet with sweat as we approached the front door. Kelly nodded to me, and I rang the doorbell. I barely noticed my hand was shaking and I pressed the button.
The next few minutes were the most excruciating in my life. It seemed like we stood there for years. I was about to say "No one's here, let's go," but then someone opened the door. Of course, it just HAD to be my little foster-brother. He looked pretty much the same, except taller. He still dressed in all black, even his Vans were black. My kid brother—as I remembered—had been somewhat like me. He'd loved punk-rock music... in fact, Green Day had been (and probably still was) his favorite band. So you can imagine the jaw-dropping look on his face when he saw me, his foster-sister who'd been gone for years, standing at his door with his idol Billie Joe.
"Uh... hey, TJ. Um... can we come in?" I asked. He pushed open the door and let us in, still speechless. We stood in the front hall for a moment before I heard a familiar voice from down the hall. "TJ, who was at the door?" My mom. Actually, my foster-mom. More memories hit me, like a painful punch in the face. Her footsteps echoed down the hallway as she drew near. Even though I kept my eyes on the floor, I could feel her presence as she entered the room.
"Oh... oh my God... " I finally looked up. She looked vaguely the same, except her skin had more wrinkles from years of working and her eyes looked weary. Her sky blue eyes pierced mine, giving me that look I'd gotten so many times before. She looked me up and down, then did the same to Billie Joe.
"Uh... hi... mom... uh... just thought we'd stop by... and... uh... oh, this is my... friend... Billie Jo--" I began. "We all know who he is." TJ interrupted suddenly. I gave him a look, which he eagerly returned. Billie Joe coughed somewhat nervously. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Johnson," He said, sticking out his hand. My mom ignored it. Billie Joe coughed again and shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Mom, why don't we all sit down in the living room and... talk about this?" Kelly said. Mom said nothing, just walked into the living room. We followed. TJ went upstairs. Me, Kelly, and Billie Joe all sat squished together on the sofa, and mom sat in the armchair opposite us. Kelly glanced at me, giving me the OK to start talking. I hadn't exactly planned out what I was going to say, but it all came pouring out.
I told her everything. From when I first left home to meeting St. Jimmy. From the first time I used to meeting "Green Eyes". From my second encounter with Green Eyes—only to find out he was the Billie Joe Armstrong of Green Day—to waking up in The House. And how I was leaving, with Green Day, going on all their tours and everything, in only two days. By the time I finished, I was on the verge of tears, but I forced myself not to cry in front of everyone.
For a while, no one spoke. I didn't see the expression on my mom's face because I was too busy staring at my old, worn out Vans. I knew I was too old for this shit, and I was acting like a baby, but I couldn't help it. I still felt like the teenager I'd been the first time I met St. Jimmy...
"Well. It is obvious you have learned your lesson. I'm glad you chose to return home. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Armstrong. Kelly, thank you for returning her. Now, we'll wait for your father to get home to decide your punishment." In one smooth move, my mother rose, towering before us.
I sat there for a moment, stunned. She was talking about me like a dog! And what's worse, she completely missed my point—on purpose or not, I wasn't sure—that I was leaving! Before Billie Joe or Kelly could say anything, I stood up to face my mom.
"This is just like you," I muttered through gritted teeth. "I'm not coming home. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. Anywhere is better than living here. These guys saved my life, picked me up off the streets, even though I was a nobody. They offered me—me, a drugged up junkie on the street—to come LIVE with them! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, but you don't seem to get that. I came here to get my stuff and say goodbye, because I'm leaving."
Not waiting to hear her response, I ran down the hallway, grabbed my suitcase, and entered my old room. I'd shared it with my three younger sisters. I opened the dresser drawers that had once been mine, pleased to find all my old stuff there. I threw in some clothes and other belongings. Then I walked back into the front room, where Kelly and Billie Joe were waiting. TJ was there, too, still gaping at Billie Joe. "Let's go," I told them. We began to head out the door when a voice stopped my cold.
"You said you're old enough to make your own decisions." My mother's voice came quietly from behind me. I paused, not turning around. "Just remember, your most recent decisions really screwed you up." I flinched as the insult struck me like a punch in the face. I knew she was referring to St. Jimmy. As much as I wanted to turn around a prove her wrong, I knew it was just what she wanted. So I walked out the door, leaving my past behind.
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