Billie Jo, chapter 3
Billie Jo
Part Two: Number on Her Hand
Billie stroked Dominique for a moment more before placing the snake back in its aquarium. Then the girl moved to her bed, sitting down and continuing to brush her hair.
Two weeks was a record, though not much of one. Billie had never last more than a semester since she dropped the 'e' from her middle name. Three years, four houses, five schools. Soon to be six. she thought, sighing. She'd never been at a school long enough to make more than casual acquaintances, with this being the exception. It didn't help that I never talked to anyone.
Billie stood up and walked to her vanity, setting down her brush and grabbing a headband to secure her dark locks. Yawning, she managed only to put moisturizer on her face before collapsing on the blue sheets of her bed. The light shone lightly on her exhausted face until her mother came in a few minutes later, flipping the switch after softly kissing her daughter's cheek.
Ollie Armstrong gave a sad smile as she walked to the kitchen to look at the bills.
* * *
Billie was stilling standing in front of the mirror, touching what was left of her beautiful hair, when Ollie got home.
"Billie Jo? Honey, I thought we'd go to that movie you want to see for your birthday." She was met with silence.
"Billie?"
A soft sob broke the quiet. Ollie's eyes widened and her face grew worried and she walked toward the room where the noise was coming from.
"Bil—" Her daughter stared at her through tears. Ollie's eyes took in the bruises on Billie's face, the state of her hair.
"What happened, Billie?" She was sure she didn't want to know.
"Boys at school." Billie mumbled, turning back to the mirror.
" ... You're pretty bruised up, baby." Ollie reached out slowly and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"
Billie lifted up the side of her shirt, revealing an extremely large, dark bruise.
* * *
Billie wore a green sundress and white sandals to the school the next day, staying close to her mother as they made their way to the office. She stared at the ground, trying to ignore the dozens of eyes that were staring at her. There was no one but the secretary in the lobby to the office, however. The teenager picked nervously at her green nail polish while her mother disappeared into the office to talk to the principal.
When Billie's mother emerged from the office, looking none to happy, the young girl stood up, eager to leave the scrutinizing gaze of the secretary. Billie Jo started toward her locker. Ollie followed her up the stairs, expression cold as she saw the mass of students and more than one teacher ogle her daughter as if she were an animal at the zoo.
Somehow, Mike managed to push through the majority of the students by the time Billie reached her locker. Unfortunately, the boy he had told off the day before blocked his path.
"Get out of my way." Mike said in a dangerous voice.
"Got a date with your girlfriend?" He asked, snickering.
Billie recognized the voice and turned her head, eyes landing on Mike and the other who were locked in a duel-like staring contest. Ollie's eyes had found the pair as well.
"What if I do?" Mike asked finally.
"Never took you for a fag, Pritchard."
"Since when does a guy having a girlfriend make him a fag?" Mike asked, pushing past him when he received no response. "You going then?" Mike asked Billie.
"Yeah," the girl said softly.
"Know where yet?" She shook her head. "Well, let me know when you do." Mike said. "And then I'll get expelled from this fu—" His eyes flicked to Ollie for a moment. "—Fudging place." He took the pen Billie Jo had in her fist and write his number on the back of her hand.
Her green eyes stared into his blue ones.
And she smiled.
* * *
"Hello?"
"Umm, hi. Is Mike there?" Billie asked nervously.
"Mike!" He heard the female voice yell. "Some chick on the phone for you."
"Hello?" Mike asked.
"Why would a girl call you?" Billie heard in the background. She giggled.
"Shut up, Myla." Mike said. "Billie Jo?"
"Yeah?"
"What's up?" Mike gave his sister the middle finger as she made kissing faces before disappearing into the living room, leaving Mike alone in the kitchen.
"Not much." She picked at her nails. "Myla your sister?"
"Not by choice." Mike said. "She's eleven. You're an only kid aren't you?"
"I have an older brother." Billie said. "But he's my half brother. My dad's, not Mom's. So he's with his mom."
"Parents divorced?"
"No." Billie said quietly. "My dad just doesn't live with us anymore."
" ... Why?"
"Mike, you're hopeless." Said a voice on another line.
"Myla, get off the fucking phone!" Mike yelled, causing Billie to wince at the momentary deafness of her right ear.
"Jeez, have a freakin' heart attack, why don't ya?" But a soft click was heard, indicating the eleven year old had abandoned her eavesdropping for the time being.
"She's a freak." Mike said.
"Runs in the family." Billie teased, giggling. Unbeknownst to Mike, the girl was twisting the phone cord around her finger. She also felt like she was floating and had no idea why.
"Ha, ha." Mike said sarcastically. There was a pause. "So did you figure out what school you're switchin' to yet?"
"Mike . . . you're not really going to get expelled are you?" Billie asked, voice awed, sceptical, and hopeful at the same time.
"Only way my mom's going to let me switch schools." Mike said. "That school sucks anyway. You're better."
Billie blushed, thankful that she was alone. "Mike?"
"Yeah?"
"I-I'm sorry . . . for what they said to you 'cause you were... " Her voice trailed off. Because what? Because you were nice to me?
Mike rolled his eyes. Women. And he gave a small laugh. "Don't worry about it, Billie Jo. Ain't the first time I've been called a fag. Won't be the last. 'Sides, at our new school everyone's going to be insanely jealous because I'll be friend with one of the cutest girls there."
Billie blushed even harder. She knew that even the tips of her ears were pink. . . . one of the cutest girls . . . our new school . . .
And then she felt immediately ashamed. Not because she felt guilty for having a crush on her only friend in years, for she didn't. But it was the first time anyone had ever said things like that after finding out her secret. She knew she was taking the casual flirting too close to heart.
"Billie? You there?"
"Yeah." She said in a soft voice. "I'm here. Mom an' me went to Chastin High. That's where I'm transferring to."
"That the school like a block from the comic shop?"
Billie Jo snorted. "As if I read comic books, Mike Pritchard."
"Well, it's not like I know how close it is to the nearest beauty parlour, Miss Armstrong." Mike listened to Billie giggle and grinned. "You want to come over?"
* * *
Billie knocked on the door, slightly nervous. A young girl in cut off shorts and a tankini top answered the door. Mike had pushed her out of the way within seconds and gestured Billie into the house. "Myla, go clean your room."
"You're not Mom!" She shrieked indignantly.
"Yeah, but Mom said that you were supposed to clean it."
"You're supposed to do the dishes."
"I'm doing homework. That's why Billie came over."
"Where's her books and stuff then?"
Billie fought a smile as Mike groaned.
"Go clean your room or I'm going to tell Angie that you suck your thumb."
Myla glared at him, cursed loudly and stormed off to her room.
"Aw, you're such a sweet brother." Billie said, snorting. Mike just grinned and led her through the hallway toward his room.
A half hour later, after Billie coughed on her first cigarette, Myla knocked on the door and pushed it open without waiting for an answer.
"Mom's home. So you better keep the door open. You know what happened last time." And with that she disappeared.
Billie turned to Mike with a smirk on her face.
"So what happened last time?"
To her surprise Mike blushed. "I, uh . . ."
Billie giggled. "Prude."
Mike stuck his tongue out at her.
Part Two: Number on Her Hand
Billie stroked Dominique for a moment more before placing the snake back in its aquarium. Then the girl moved to her bed, sitting down and continuing to brush her hair.
Two weeks was a record, though not much of one. Billie had never last more than a semester since she dropped the 'e' from her middle name. Three years, four houses, five schools. Soon to be six. she thought, sighing. She'd never been at a school long enough to make more than casual acquaintances, with this being the exception. It didn't help that I never talked to anyone.
Billie stood up and walked to her vanity, setting down her brush and grabbing a headband to secure her dark locks. Yawning, she managed only to put moisturizer on her face before collapsing on the blue sheets of her bed. The light shone lightly on her exhausted face until her mother came in a few minutes later, flipping the switch after softly kissing her daughter's cheek.
Ollie Armstrong gave a sad smile as she walked to the kitchen to look at the bills.
* * *
Billie was stilling standing in front of the mirror, touching what was left of her beautiful hair, when Ollie got home.
"Billie Jo? Honey, I thought we'd go to that movie you want to see for your birthday." She was met with silence.
"Billie?"
A soft sob broke the quiet. Ollie's eyes widened and her face grew worried and she walked toward the room where the noise was coming from.
"Bil—" Her daughter stared at her through tears. Ollie's eyes took in the bruises on Billie's face, the state of her hair.
"What happened, Billie?" She was sure she didn't want to know.
"Boys at school." Billie mumbled, turning back to the mirror.
" ... You're pretty bruised up, baby." Ollie reached out slowly and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"
Billie lifted up the side of her shirt, revealing an extremely large, dark bruise.
* * *
Billie wore a green sundress and white sandals to the school the next day, staying close to her mother as they made their way to the office. She stared at the ground, trying to ignore the dozens of eyes that were staring at her. There was no one but the secretary in the lobby to the office, however. The teenager picked nervously at her green nail polish while her mother disappeared into the office to talk to the principal.
When Billie's mother emerged from the office, looking none to happy, the young girl stood up, eager to leave the scrutinizing gaze of the secretary. Billie Jo started toward her locker. Ollie followed her up the stairs, expression cold as she saw the mass of students and more than one teacher ogle her daughter as if she were an animal at the zoo.
Somehow, Mike managed to push through the majority of the students by the time Billie reached her locker. Unfortunately, the boy he had told off the day before blocked his path.
"Get out of my way." Mike said in a dangerous voice.
"Got a date with your girlfriend?" He asked, snickering.
Billie recognized the voice and turned her head, eyes landing on Mike and the other who were locked in a duel-like staring contest. Ollie's eyes had found the pair as well.
"What if I do?" Mike asked finally.
"Never took you for a fag, Pritchard."
"Since when does a guy having a girlfriend make him a fag?" Mike asked, pushing past him when he received no response. "You going then?" Mike asked Billie.
"Yeah," the girl said softly.
"Know where yet?" She shook her head. "Well, let me know when you do." Mike said. "And then I'll get expelled from this fu—" His eyes flicked to Ollie for a moment. "—Fudging place." He took the pen Billie Jo had in her fist and write his number on the back of her hand.
Her green eyes stared into his blue ones.
And she smiled.
* * *
"Hello?"
"Umm, hi. Is Mike there?" Billie asked nervously.
"Mike!" He heard the female voice yell. "Some chick on the phone for you."
"Hello?" Mike asked.
"Why would a girl call you?" Billie heard in the background. She giggled.
"Shut up, Myla." Mike said. "Billie Jo?"
"Yeah?"
"What's up?" Mike gave his sister the middle finger as she made kissing faces before disappearing into the living room, leaving Mike alone in the kitchen.
"Not much." She picked at her nails. "Myla your sister?"
"Not by choice." Mike said. "She's eleven. You're an only kid aren't you?"
"I have an older brother." Billie said. "But he's my half brother. My dad's, not Mom's. So he's with his mom."
"Parents divorced?"
"No." Billie said quietly. "My dad just doesn't live with us anymore."
" ... Why?"
"Mike, you're hopeless." Said a voice on another line.
"Myla, get off the fucking phone!" Mike yelled, causing Billie to wince at the momentary deafness of her right ear.
"Jeez, have a freakin' heart attack, why don't ya?" But a soft click was heard, indicating the eleven year old had abandoned her eavesdropping for the time being.
"She's a freak." Mike said.
"Runs in the family." Billie teased, giggling. Unbeknownst to Mike, the girl was twisting the phone cord around her finger. She also felt like she was floating and had no idea why.
"Ha, ha." Mike said sarcastically. There was a pause. "So did you figure out what school you're switchin' to yet?"
"Mike . . . you're not really going to get expelled are you?" Billie asked, voice awed, sceptical, and hopeful at the same time.
"Only way my mom's going to let me switch schools." Mike said. "That school sucks anyway. You're better."
Billie blushed, thankful that she was alone. "Mike?"
"Yeah?"
"I-I'm sorry . . . for what they said to you 'cause you were... " Her voice trailed off. Because what? Because you were nice to me?
Mike rolled his eyes. Women. And he gave a small laugh. "Don't worry about it, Billie Jo. Ain't the first time I've been called a fag. Won't be the last. 'Sides, at our new school everyone's going to be insanely jealous because I'll be friend with one of the cutest girls there."
Billie blushed even harder. She knew that even the tips of her ears were pink. . . . one of the cutest girls . . . our new school . . .
And then she felt immediately ashamed. Not because she felt guilty for having a crush on her only friend in years, for she didn't. But it was the first time anyone had ever said things like that after finding out her secret. She knew she was taking the casual flirting too close to heart.
"Billie? You there?"
"Yeah." She said in a soft voice. "I'm here. Mom an' me went to Chastin High. That's where I'm transferring to."
"That the school like a block from the comic shop?"
Billie Jo snorted. "As if I read comic books, Mike Pritchard."
"Well, it's not like I know how close it is to the nearest beauty parlour, Miss Armstrong." Mike listened to Billie giggle and grinned. "You want to come over?"
* * *
Billie knocked on the door, slightly nervous. A young girl in cut off shorts and a tankini top answered the door. Mike had pushed her out of the way within seconds and gestured Billie into the house. "Myla, go clean your room."
"You're not Mom!" She shrieked indignantly.
"Yeah, but Mom said that you were supposed to clean it."
"You're supposed to do the dishes."
"I'm doing homework. That's why Billie came over."
"Where's her books and stuff then?"
Billie fought a smile as Mike groaned.
"Go clean your room or I'm going to tell Angie that you suck your thumb."
Myla glared at him, cursed loudly and stormed off to her room.
"Aw, you're such a sweet brother." Billie said, snorting. Mike just grinned and led her through the hallway toward his room.
A half hour later, after Billie coughed on her first cigarette, Myla knocked on the door and pushed it open without waiting for an answer.
"Mom's home. So you better keep the door open. You know what happened last time." And with that she disappeared.
Billie turned to Mike with a smirk on her face.
"So what happened last time?"
To her surprise Mike blushed. "I, uh . . ."
Billie giggled. "Prude."
Mike stuck his tongue out at her.
