All Of This, chapter 4
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December 31
It's New Years Eve. The guys and I don't plan on doing anything special. Just sit around and watch the ball drop on television. It's two days before I turn seventeen. Thank God. I've been waiting forever. I thought this year would never end. Billie Joe says that my room will be done by my birthday, and while he works on it, I'm not allowed to even see it. I just get to watch Mike and Tre load stuff into it, like a bed, a dresser, a mirror, etc. Billie's been doing all the "handy work", and speaking of him, he's been making sure that I eat. He doesn't know that I purge it up afterwards. And ya' know what? No one's gonna find out.
xx Esmee
* * *
"Happy New Year!"
They all jumped up from their seats, and congradulated the new year. It was a bit sappy. They did the traditional stuff, like hug each other, and they had quite a large dinner, at least more than they've ever had. Esmee ate, but she still had yet to use the bathroom.
"I'll be right back," she stated, stepping inside the hallway and going into the bathroom.
She locked the door behind her and pulled her hair back. Kneeling in front of the toilet, Esmee shoved two of her fingers down her throat. She sat there for minutes, which felt like hours, waiting for supper to come up. She stuck her fingers deeper, hitting the spot and throwing up the halfly digested food. Esmee leaned over the toilet, hacking up loads of vomit before standing up and wiping her mouth. She flushed, then brushed her teeth. She rinsed her mouth and washed her hands.
Unlocking the door and turning out the lights, Esmee walked out of the bathrrom. She ran into a very unexpected face.
"Ezz, you...didn't...just..?"
"Billie, no. I really did feel sick," she lied.
Billie Joe sighed, rubbing a hand against his forehead. "Esmee...this is...this is worse than starving yourself... "
"Billie--"
"Are you trying to die?!" he scolded. "Is it from spite of me caring?! Why, Esmee? Why are you doing this!"
Her eyes glazed over in tears from all of the yelling. She couldn't take it, so she broke down.
Esmee fell to the floor as she cried harder, "I...I don't...kn-know... "
She held her head in her hands, sobbing like mad. She felt arms wrap around her body in a tight embrace. Of course, it was Billie, so Esmee leaned onto him, hoping to have that feeling of safety that she got when he hugged her. Which she did.
"I'll stop...I'll...I'll stop, Billie," she murmured.
"You've gotta promise me, Esmee," he hugged her tighter. "You've gotta promise me that you'll stop."
"I promise I'll stop..." she whispered. "I promise."
Mike and Tre came into the hallway.
"What's going on?"
* * *
It was a day before Esmee's birthday. Billie Joe was almost done with her room. He had hired up Mike to watch her hand and foot. He made her eat, and had to look out for when she went to the bathrrom. It pissed her off, because he literally stood right outside the bathroom door everytime Esmee went in there. All she did was take a piss and change her tampon.
Obviously they don't trust me at the moment.
She had just finished lunch, which was a bottle of Coca-Cola and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Esmee walked to the bathroom, Mike followed close behind.
She turned around when she reached the door, "Mike. Why do you have to follow me everywhere I go?"
"I was told to keep a close eye on you," he stated.
"But not this close."
"I'm just doing what Billie said for me to do," Mike shrugged.
"I was there, Mike," she glared at him. "And he didn't say to stand outside of the fuckin' bathroom."
"Like I just told you, I'm just doing what Billie said--"
"I don't care what Billie said!" Esmee raged. "I promised him I'd stop purging and I don't break my promises! What?! You-you can't trust me?!"
"Ezz, it's not that--"
"Then what is it, Mike?!" she retorted. "Hmm?"
He sighed.
She huffed, "I'm going for a ride."
Esmee stomped into the kitchen and snatched Billie Joe's car keys.
"Esmee--"
"No."
"Esme--"
"Shut up."
"Esmee!" Mike grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.
She looked at him, "I'm going...for a ride."
Esmee shook out of his grasp and walked out the door. Mike followed her, but stopped on the porch. She stepped into the blue Ford Mustang, and turned on the ignition. Backing out of the driveway, she heard Mike yell at her.
"Billie Joe's going to kill you!"
* * *
All she did was drive a couple blocks down to the park. Esmee didn't crash the car. She didn't wreck it in any way, surprisingly. She has a license. She knows how to work a vehicle. Esmee just never had one.
She was sitting on a swing, moving back and forth, and kicking the mulch under her. It had only been a few minutes since she left the house. Esmee doubted that she would stay at the park for much longer.
She glanced up from the ground. She saw Mike walking from where the house was. He looked at her and came over.
Sitting on the swing next to her, he spoke up. "Esmee... you were right. You made a promise, and we should trust you with it, but-but it's not that I don't trust you. It's just...it's Billie."
She jerked her head to the side, as if she was questioning what he just said. Which Esmee was.
Mike continued. "This kid likes you...a lot, Ezz, and if anything happened to you, it would cost my head, and he'd probably blame himself."
She looked at him in confusion.
"Yeah...it's only been a couple days since you started living with us. It had to be hard to just start living with complete strangers...but even though we haven't known you long, you're like a sister to us, Esmee," Mike explained. "But even more to Billie."
He brought her into a one-armed hug.
"So I'll give you some space...and I'm sorry for not giving it to you in the first place."
Esmee set her gaze downwards before muttering, "I-I understand... "
"Glad to hear it," Mike smiled. "I think we should get back. I got Tre to stall Billie, and God only knows how long that'll last."
* * *
It was later in the evening. Billie Joe had never found out about Esmee taking his car. Which was a good thing. Mike, Tre, and Esmee decided to just keep it to themselves. It wasn't a touchy subject, but they all knew that Billie would explode if he knew Esmee took his "baby".
She had just gotten her pajamas on, and she was eating a cup of plain yogurt. Mike and Tre were watching t.v., and every once in awhile, Tre would want to watch something else. Mike would say no, and they'd start fighting over the remote. It was amusing to Esmee. Everytime they fought, Mike would win, and Tre would start pouting.
She finished her little snack and threw the empty yogurt cup in the trash. As she was walking into the hallway, Esmee heard Tre ask if they could watch something else. Mike had said no, like always. That's when she heard two large thumping noises, and a screech. Which she had figured Tre let out.
"MOMMY!"
Esmee shook her head and chuckled as she made her way down the hallway. She was curious as to what Billie was doing. She hoped it wasn't one of those "curiousity killed the cat" ordeals.
Speaking of cats, she thought, I haven't seen Gir around at all today.
Esmee stopped outside Billie Joe's bedroom door. Hearing slight guitar playing, she creaked open the door, and there sat Gir on Billie's bed, watching him play and sing along to one of her favorite Ramone's songs.
"Hey, little girl. I wanna be your boyfriend. Sweet little girl. I wanna be your boyfriend. Do you love me babe? What do you say? Do you love me babe? What can I say? Because I wanna be your boyfriend."
She stepped inside his room without being noticed. "That was really good..."
Billie Joe shot his head up at Esmee and blushed a little, "Thanks."
"What other songs can you play?" She asked, very interested.
"Well..." he began, "There are songs off of our E.P., and I knew a bit by The Cure and The Who and stuff."
"I haven't heard your E.P.," she stated. "Could you play a song or two off of that?"
"Yeah, sure. This one's called...uhm...'I Was There'," Billie said before beginning the song. "Looking back upon my life and the places that I've been. Pictures, faces, girls I've loved, I try to remember when. Faded memories on the wall, some names I have forgotten. But each one is a memory I look back on so often. I look into the past. I want to make it last. I was there--I was there."
Esmee watched as his mouth moved and sang every word. His voice was beautiful, she had to admit. And the way he played his Fender Strotacaster hypnotized her. It was like Billie wasn't playing it at all. It sounded like something off the radio.
"And...uh...that's it," Billie muttered after he finished the song.
"Can I...play the...guitar?" she enquired, pointing at the instrument.
"Yeah, sure," he smiled, lifting his guitar strap over his head.
Esmee stepped over to his bed and sat beside him, taking the guitar.
"Meow."
She giggled, "Gir's your new number one fan... "
"Gir? That's his name?" Billie questioned.
"Yeah. Why?"
"I've been calling him Freddie."
Esmee stared at him for a moment before cracking up.
"What? What?!" Billie Joe laughed.
She shook her head, "Nothing."
She sighed before nervously breaking out into the riffs to "Rudie Can't Fail" by The Clash. Esmee started to hum the beginning, but Billie joined in, singing.
"How you get a rude and a reckless? Don't you be so crude and a feckless. You been drinking brew for breakfast. Ru-die can't fail."
They sat there for a couple minutes, playing the song and smiling at the same time.
As they finished, Billie Joe asked, "You like The Clash a lot, don't you?"
"Wherever did you get that idea?"
"Mike told me you guys had some fun with a couple of their songs a few days ago." He said.
"Well, they are one of my all-time favorite bands," Esmee stated.
"But is that all you play?"
"No," she rolled her eyes, "I play other stuff. Like by The Phenomenots, The Who, Led Zepplin...yeah."
"Play 'My Generation' by The Who," Billie grinned.
"Okay," Esmee said before starting to play it.
"Sing it, too!"
"No, Billie," she chuckled, still playing. "I can't sing."
"What if I start off?"
"No."
"Peeassee?"
"Fine," she sighed.
"YAY!" Billie Joe clapped before starting to sing. "Well, people try to put us d-down... Just because we get around... .Go, Ezz, go!"
"Things they do look awful c-c-cold... I hope I die before I get old."
"WOO!"
Once again, Esmee started cracking up in the middle of the song.
"You've got a perrrtyy voice."
"Bill, you high?" she quirked an eyebrow at him.
"I've got a sugar fix," he averted his eyes as he showed off a crooked smile. "I had coffee."
* * *
It was 2:32pm on January 2, 1990. Esmee would officially turn eighteen in two minutes. It was a great thing. She watched the digital clock on Tre's night table, counting the seconds until she aged another year.
"Three... two... one," Esmee sighed. "Two thirty-four in the afternoon. Happy birthday Esmee Holly Davis."
She heard the bedroom door creak open and saw Billie Joe poke his head inside. "Psst...hey, Esmee. I gots something to show you. Bring all your stuff too. And hurry up."
She jumped up and shoved all of her clothes, her CDs, and her diary into her bag. She slung it over her shoulder and picked up Gir, who automatically nuzzled up against her chest. Esmee pet his black, fur coat as she stepped into the hallway. She looked to the right and saw Billie pulling down a minute staircase from the ceiling that led up to the attic.
He turned around and guestured for her to come over. "C'mon!"
Esmee scurried down the partially naroow passage and made it where Billie was standing. He grabbed her arm that Gir wasn't in and brought her up the stiars. As she reached the top step, Billie turned to face her again.
"Okay, I need you to close your eyes."
"Alright..." Esmee said with unsurity a she shut her eyes.
He started to bring her upstairs again, holding her arm tighter so she wouldn't fall. Esmee heard a door open and they kept walking. The door closed behind them as they came to a hault.
"Ezz," Billie Joe whispered. "You can open your eyes."
She opened up her tightly shut eyelids and looked about the room. It was her room. A twin bed was in the corner, as well as a night table with a lamp. A stereo was across the room, and so was a television and a dresser. Posters of The Clash, The Ramones, The Cure, and some other of Esmee's favorite bands covered the walls. Her bass and her amplifier were against a wall with an outlet, and a small privacy window was above her bed.
She put the cat down on the floor as she gasped at how awesome her room looked. She spun around, dropped her backpack on the ground, and hugged Billie Joe ever so tightly.
"Happy birthday, Esmee," he hugged her back.
"Thank you," Esmee muttered.
"No problem," he smiled, "Now let's get your clothes and stuff put away."
* * *
It only took them minutes to put all of her stuff in the rightful places. And that was fine, because Billie Joe and Esmee were able to lay on her bed and just talk. And that was a good thing. For she learned more about himself, Mike, and Tre. He also got a lot out of her, too.
Billie, whom was sitting by the night table, saw Esmee's 'kidnapped' poster and grabbed it.
Reading over it, he asked, "Your full name is Esmee Holly Davis>"
"Yeah," she said. "I hate my middle name."
"I like it," Billie stated. "Can I call you it instead of Esmee?"
"Sure, I guess," Esmee shrugged, looking at him. "If you want."
"Yeah, well," he looked back at her, "I want to."
Locking eyes, they stared at each other. They both couldn't stop. Just like his music, Billie Joe's green eyes hypnotized Esmee. She had a feeling that she was melting, but more. It was hard to explain. In his eyes were a glint of tenderness, like a puppy dog. It made her sink down into her stomach even more, thinking of how adorable he was at the moment.
Billie leaned in slowly, closer and closer to Esmee's face. And as he hesitated, she closed the gap between them. They shared a kiss. A kiss so passionate, that it felt like nothing bad had ever happened to her. All the mistakes she made, they just faded away. It was amazing. On Esmee's eighteenth birthday, she got her first kiss.
Billie Joe cupped her face in his hands, turning on his side and making their kiss longer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling Billie's tounge entering her mouth. Esmee gladly returned the favor. Minutes later, they broke apart.
He breathed out a happy sigh and smiled, "Holly."
It's New Years Eve. The guys and I don't plan on doing anything special. Just sit around and watch the ball drop on television. It's two days before I turn seventeen. Thank God. I've been waiting forever. I thought this year would never end. Billie Joe says that my room will be done by my birthday, and while he works on it, I'm not allowed to even see it. I just get to watch Mike and Tre load stuff into it, like a bed, a dresser, a mirror, etc. Billie's been doing all the "handy work", and speaking of him, he's been making sure that I eat. He doesn't know that I purge it up afterwards. And ya' know what? No one's gonna find out.
xx Esmee
* * *
"Happy New Year!"
They all jumped up from their seats, and congradulated the new year. It was a bit sappy. They did the traditional stuff, like hug each other, and they had quite a large dinner, at least more than they've ever had. Esmee ate, but she still had yet to use the bathroom.
"I'll be right back," she stated, stepping inside the hallway and going into the bathroom.
She locked the door behind her and pulled her hair back. Kneeling in front of the toilet, Esmee shoved two of her fingers down her throat. She sat there for minutes, which felt like hours, waiting for supper to come up. She stuck her fingers deeper, hitting the spot and throwing up the halfly digested food. Esmee leaned over the toilet, hacking up loads of vomit before standing up and wiping her mouth. She flushed, then brushed her teeth. She rinsed her mouth and washed her hands.
Unlocking the door and turning out the lights, Esmee walked out of the bathrrom. She ran into a very unexpected face.
"Ezz, you...didn't...just..?"
"Billie, no. I really did feel sick," she lied.
Billie Joe sighed, rubbing a hand against his forehead. "Esmee...this is...this is worse than starving yourself... "
"Billie--"
"Are you trying to die?!" he scolded. "Is it from spite of me caring?! Why, Esmee? Why are you doing this!"
Her eyes glazed over in tears from all of the yelling. She couldn't take it, so she broke down.
Esmee fell to the floor as she cried harder, "I...I don't...kn-know... "
She held her head in her hands, sobbing like mad. She felt arms wrap around her body in a tight embrace. Of course, it was Billie, so Esmee leaned onto him, hoping to have that feeling of safety that she got when he hugged her. Which she did.
"I'll stop...I'll...I'll stop, Billie," she murmured.
"You've gotta promise me, Esmee," he hugged her tighter. "You've gotta promise me that you'll stop."
"I promise I'll stop..." she whispered. "I promise."
Mike and Tre came into the hallway.
"What's going on?"
* * *
It was a day before Esmee's birthday. Billie Joe was almost done with her room. He had hired up Mike to watch her hand and foot. He made her eat, and had to look out for when she went to the bathrrom. It pissed her off, because he literally stood right outside the bathroom door everytime Esmee went in there. All she did was take a piss and change her tampon.
Obviously they don't trust me at the moment.
She had just finished lunch, which was a bottle of Coca-Cola and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Esmee walked to the bathroom, Mike followed close behind.
She turned around when she reached the door, "Mike. Why do you have to follow me everywhere I go?"
"I was told to keep a close eye on you," he stated.
"But not this close."
"I'm just doing what Billie said for me to do," Mike shrugged.
"I was there, Mike," she glared at him. "And he didn't say to stand outside of the fuckin' bathroom."
"Like I just told you, I'm just doing what Billie said--"
"I don't care what Billie said!" Esmee raged. "I promised him I'd stop purging and I don't break my promises! What?! You-you can't trust me?!"
"Ezz, it's not that--"
"Then what is it, Mike?!" she retorted. "Hmm?"
He sighed.
She huffed, "I'm going for a ride."
Esmee stomped into the kitchen and snatched Billie Joe's car keys.
"Esmee--"
"No."
"Esme--"
"Shut up."
"Esmee!" Mike grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.
She looked at him, "I'm going...for a ride."
Esmee shook out of his grasp and walked out the door. Mike followed her, but stopped on the porch. She stepped into the blue Ford Mustang, and turned on the ignition. Backing out of the driveway, she heard Mike yell at her.
"Billie Joe's going to kill you!"
* * *
All she did was drive a couple blocks down to the park. Esmee didn't crash the car. She didn't wreck it in any way, surprisingly. She has a license. She knows how to work a vehicle. Esmee just never had one.
She was sitting on a swing, moving back and forth, and kicking the mulch under her. It had only been a few minutes since she left the house. Esmee doubted that she would stay at the park for much longer.
She glanced up from the ground. She saw Mike walking from where the house was. He looked at her and came over.
Sitting on the swing next to her, he spoke up. "Esmee... you were right. You made a promise, and we should trust you with it, but-but it's not that I don't trust you. It's just...it's Billie."
She jerked her head to the side, as if she was questioning what he just said. Which Esmee was.
Mike continued. "This kid likes you...a lot, Ezz, and if anything happened to you, it would cost my head, and he'd probably blame himself."
She looked at him in confusion.
"Yeah...it's only been a couple days since you started living with us. It had to be hard to just start living with complete strangers...but even though we haven't known you long, you're like a sister to us, Esmee," Mike explained. "But even more to Billie."
He brought her into a one-armed hug.
"So I'll give you some space...and I'm sorry for not giving it to you in the first place."
Esmee set her gaze downwards before muttering, "I-I understand... "
"Glad to hear it," Mike smiled. "I think we should get back. I got Tre to stall Billie, and God only knows how long that'll last."
* * *
It was later in the evening. Billie Joe had never found out about Esmee taking his car. Which was a good thing. Mike, Tre, and Esmee decided to just keep it to themselves. It wasn't a touchy subject, but they all knew that Billie would explode if he knew Esmee took his "baby".
She had just gotten her pajamas on, and she was eating a cup of plain yogurt. Mike and Tre were watching t.v., and every once in awhile, Tre would want to watch something else. Mike would say no, and they'd start fighting over the remote. It was amusing to Esmee. Everytime they fought, Mike would win, and Tre would start pouting.
She finished her little snack and threw the empty yogurt cup in the trash. As she was walking into the hallway, Esmee heard Tre ask if they could watch something else. Mike had said no, like always. That's when she heard two large thumping noises, and a screech. Which she had figured Tre let out.
"MOMMY!"
Esmee shook her head and chuckled as she made her way down the hallway. She was curious as to what Billie was doing. She hoped it wasn't one of those "curiousity killed the cat" ordeals.
Speaking of cats, she thought, I haven't seen Gir around at all today.
Esmee stopped outside Billie Joe's bedroom door. Hearing slight guitar playing, she creaked open the door, and there sat Gir on Billie's bed, watching him play and sing along to one of her favorite Ramone's songs.
"Hey, little girl. I wanna be your boyfriend. Sweet little girl. I wanna be your boyfriend. Do you love me babe? What do you say? Do you love me babe? What can I say? Because I wanna be your boyfriend."
She stepped inside his room without being noticed. "That was really good..."
Billie Joe shot his head up at Esmee and blushed a little, "Thanks."
"What other songs can you play?" She asked, very interested.
"Well..." he began, "There are songs off of our E.P., and I knew a bit by The Cure and The Who and stuff."
"I haven't heard your E.P.," she stated. "Could you play a song or two off of that?"
"Yeah, sure. This one's called...uhm...'I Was There'," Billie said before beginning the song. "Looking back upon my life and the places that I've been. Pictures, faces, girls I've loved, I try to remember when. Faded memories on the wall, some names I have forgotten. But each one is a memory I look back on so often. I look into the past. I want to make it last. I was there--I was there."
Esmee watched as his mouth moved and sang every word. His voice was beautiful, she had to admit. And the way he played his Fender Strotacaster hypnotized her. It was like Billie wasn't playing it at all. It sounded like something off the radio.
"And...uh...that's it," Billie muttered after he finished the song.
"Can I...play the...guitar?" she enquired, pointing at the instrument.
"Yeah, sure," he smiled, lifting his guitar strap over his head.
Esmee stepped over to his bed and sat beside him, taking the guitar.
"Meow."
She giggled, "Gir's your new number one fan... "
"Gir? That's his name?" Billie questioned.
"Yeah. Why?"
"I've been calling him Freddie."
Esmee stared at him for a moment before cracking up.
"What? What?!" Billie Joe laughed.
She shook her head, "Nothing."
She sighed before nervously breaking out into the riffs to "Rudie Can't Fail" by The Clash. Esmee started to hum the beginning, but Billie joined in, singing.
"How you get a rude and a reckless? Don't you be so crude and a feckless. You been drinking brew for breakfast. Ru-die can't fail."
They sat there for a couple minutes, playing the song and smiling at the same time.
As they finished, Billie Joe asked, "You like The Clash a lot, don't you?"
"Wherever did you get that idea?"
"Mike told me you guys had some fun with a couple of their songs a few days ago." He said.
"Well, they are one of my all-time favorite bands," Esmee stated.
"But is that all you play?"
"No," she rolled her eyes, "I play other stuff. Like by The Phenomenots, The Who, Led Zepplin...yeah."
"Play 'My Generation' by The Who," Billie grinned.
"Okay," Esmee said before starting to play it.
"Sing it, too!"
"No, Billie," she chuckled, still playing. "I can't sing."
"What if I start off?"
"No."
"Peeassee?"
"Fine," she sighed.
"YAY!" Billie Joe clapped before starting to sing. "Well, people try to put us d-down... Just because we get around... .Go, Ezz, go!"
"Things they do look awful c-c-cold... I hope I die before I get old."
"WOO!"
Once again, Esmee started cracking up in the middle of the song.
"You've got a perrrtyy voice."
"Bill, you high?" she quirked an eyebrow at him.
"I've got a sugar fix," he averted his eyes as he showed off a crooked smile. "I had coffee."
* * *
It was 2:32pm on January 2, 1990. Esmee would officially turn eighteen in two minutes. It was a great thing. She watched the digital clock on Tre's night table, counting the seconds until she aged another year.
"Three... two... one," Esmee sighed. "Two thirty-four in the afternoon. Happy birthday Esmee Holly Davis."
She heard the bedroom door creak open and saw Billie Joe poke his head inside. "Psst...hey, Esmee. I gots something to show you. Bring all your stuff too. And hurry up."
She jumped up and shoved all of her clothes, her CDs, and her diary into her bag. She slung it over her shoulder and picked up Gir, who automatically nuzzled up against her chest. Esmee pet his black, fur coat as she stepped into the hallway. She looked to the right and saw Billie pulling down a minute staircase from the ceiling that led up to the attic.
He turned around and guestured for her to come over. "C'mon!"
Esmee scurried down the partially naroow passage and made it where Billie was standing. He grabbed her arm that Gir wasn't in and brought her up the stiars. As she reached the top step, Billie turned to face her again.
"Okay, I need you to close your eyes."
"Alright..." Esmee said with unsurity a she shut her eyes.
He started to bring her upstairs again, holding her arm tighter so she wouldn't fall. Esmee heard a door open and they kept walking. The door closed behind them as they came to a hault.
"Ezz," Billie Joe whispered. "You can open your eyes."
She opened up her tightly shut eyelids and looked about the room. It was her room. A twin bed was in the corner, as well as a night table with a lamp. A stereo was across the room, and so was a television and a dresser. Posters of The Clash, The Ramones, The Cure, and some other of Esmee's favorite bands covered the walls. Her bass and her amplifier were against a wall with an outlet, and a small privacy window was above her bed.
She put the cat down on the floor as she gasped at how awesome her room looked. She spun around, dropped her backpack on the ground, and hugged Billie Joe ever so tightly.
"Happy birthday, Esmee," he hugged her back.
"Thank you," Esmee muttered.
"No problem," he smiled, "Now let's get your clothes and stuff put away."
* * *
It only took them minutes to put all of her stuff in the rightful places. And that was fine, because Billie Joe and Esmee were able to lay on her bed and just talk. And that was a good thing. For she learned more about himself, Mike, and Tre. He also got a lot out of her, too.
Billie, whom was sitting by the night table, saw Esmee's 'kidnapped' poster and grabbed it.
Reading over it, he asked, "Your full name is Esmee Holly Davis>"
"Yeah," she said. "I hate my middle name."
"I like it," Billie stated. "Can I call you it instead of Esmee?"
"Sure, I guess," Esmee shrugged, looking at him. "If you want."
"Yeah, well," he looked back at her, "I want to."
Locking eyes, they stared at each other. They both couldn't stop. Just like his music, Billie Joe's green eyes hypnotized Esmee. She had a feeling that she was melting, but more. It was hard to explain. In his eyes were a glint of tenderness, like a puppy dog. It made her sink down into her stomach even more, thinking of how adorable he was at the moment.
Billie leaned in slowly, closer and closer to Esmee's face. And as he hesitated, she closed the gap between them. They shared a kiss. A kiss so passionate, that it felt like nothing bad had ever happened to her. All the mistakes she made, they just faded away. It was amazing. On Esmee's eighteenth birthday, she got her first kiss.
Billie Joe cupped her face in his hands, turning on his side and making their kiss longer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling Billie's tounge entering her mouth. Esmee gladly returned the favor. Minutes later, they broke apart.
He breathed out a happy sigh and smiled, "Holly."
