Confessions of a Dangerous Mind
Title: Confessions of a Dangerous Mind (Part Nine)
Author: Ana
Pairing: Billie/Mike
Rating: R
Notes: First of all, I seriously need to apologize for the lack of updates in the last weeks; it's just that school has been really chaotic lately, and with all these stupid group presentations I've had to prepare and my English exam, I haven't been able to write anything. I've hardly had the time to reply to a few comments, but I do want you to know that I read every single one of them and I do try to answer as soon as possible. I hate to leave even one of them unanswered. Your opinion is quite important to me and your feedback will always be my inspiration to keep on writing; therefore, as long as you want to read this story, I will keep updating. Never in my life would I abandon my readers.
Yes, I'm done... I will let you get to the actual chapter now. I just wanted to say again that I'm really sorry. This one is long (Four thousand words!) so brace yourselves!
Previous Parts: http://missmacy3334.livejournal.com/1975.html#
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
What started out as a passionate, heated kiss slowly started to fade away, losing strength with every tired movement of our facial muscles until it became nothing more than a comfortable embrace; we certainly were not ready for anything else considering how rough things had gotten for the two of us in the last couple of weeks.
The silence was comfortable too; Billie was now curled up against me while lazily playing with my fingers, and every now and then I would lift his chin and seek his lips with mine to press them together in a tender kiss, but he hardly said a word. For my part, I had been waiting so long for this to happen that every moment with him seemed to taste even sweeter than the last one, and therefore, I too, decided that the only thing words would be good for was to ruin the inner peace that had started to grow somewhere in my soul after God knows how long of being trapped underneath these emotions that overwhelmed my entire being. Needless to say, this new feeling was far too satisfying to give it up.
I knew that sooner or later Billie Joe and I would be forced to come out of our much desired fantasy world because there was still a number of questions that remained unanswered, most of them concerning not only the feelings we seemed to have towards each other, but also Billie's home life, his even more worrying self-harm issues and last but not least, the situation with Chris Matthews.
Yes, at any given moment, we would be back to face every day's reality once again, but we preferred not to talk about it for the moment. For the moment, there was an unspoken understatement of enjoying each and every single minute together, and that's exactly what we were going to do.
"It feels really good, you know?" Billie Joe cooed in my ear all of a sudden; his hot breath making me shiver as soon as it made contact with my skin.
"What does?"
Billie paused and bit his lip. "The way you kiss me," he said finally.
"Well, come here and show me how much you like it."
A tiny giggle came out from his mouth as he wrapped his slender fingers around my shoulders for support before he carefully straddled my waist; the burning heat coming from his body enveloped me like a warm wave of summer air and my hands started shaking. He took my face and licked his lips seductively as he pulled me closer and closer towards him. Our lips touched for what must have been the millionth time that afternoon, but it was just as thrilling as the very first one, and a thousand times better that any kiss I'd had before.
"Oh, Billie..." I cried a bit louder than necessary as his palm sneaked its way down my shirt and slid all over my naked chest.
"I like it better when you call me baby."
Closing the gap between us once again, his tongue caressed my lower lip, forcing my mouth open before gingerly delving in. He moaned softly once he felt my hands that were now grasping his hips to keep him in place; I kissed him harder; it was his turn to gasp in surprise and I laughed silently to my insides.
Just like before, we ended up surrounding each other with our arms entwined together and Billie's mouth massaging gently the sensitive spots on my neck; the kisses started to fade away one more time as well as my baby's consciousness. The next moment, he fell asleep while still holding me.
***
Around half an hour went away like a sigh. The bedroom soon began to fill with strangely-shaped shadows as the last sun rays of the day crept through the closed shutters; it was getting late, and cold. I pulled a blanket over Billie's sleeping form to protect him from the chilly air that had now started to create goose bumps on his flesh; then I wriggled away as steadily as it was possible not to wake him while I attempted to open the top drawer of the night stand in order to get myself a cigarette. No sooner had I placed it on my lips, than Billie stirred uncomfortably beside me, so I decided to go sit by the window to avoid any unnecessary disturbances.
It wasn't long until my eyes fixated on the rising and falling action taking place in his chest, on the small, involuntary twitches of his face, and especially on his parted lips closing and opening rhythmically as he breathed; it was so beautiful watching him sleep that I found it quite hard to get my eyes off of him, but then again, here, at home, inside our own personal space, we were safe.
It was then that I started wondering, what would it be like to wake up day after day with Billie Joe lying right next to me, for the rest of my life? Was it even possible? No; deep inside of me I knew how far-fetched it sounded, but I still allowed myself to fantasize with the thought for a while; just for the sake of the moment.
Billie rolled on the bed; he rubbed his eyes with his fist and sat up slowly. He yawned heavily before asking what time it was. "Around six," I answered him before carelessly flicking the cigarette. I looked up only to find Billie's green eyes peering at me.
"What is it about this place that makes me fall asleep even when I'm with you?" And his voice was still dripping tiredness everywhere.
"It's boring as hell; that's what it is about it."
"No, it's not boring; it's romantic," Billie corrected me with a sweet smile.
"As romantic as those cats singing outside. Come sit with me, baby."
He did as he was told, diligently claiming his place on my lap before resting his head on my shoulder, adjusting himself just a little bit so he could get a better view of the mesmerizing orange tones that the sky had acquired as the sun began to hide away on the horizon. Once again, he pulled the cigarette off my lips and took a drag; I asked him if he wanted one, but he gently shook his head. "This one tastes like you," he murmured. It was then that I understood why he had done the same thing the first time he was here.
Billie fell silent for a moment, then his delicate voice took me by surprise one more time, "I want to thank you again for not...you know...telling on me about the cuts and everything."
"Listen, I want you to know that I would do absolutely anything to protect you, but you do have some explaining to do about that."
"What do you want to know?" Billie's eyes were glued to mine when he asked that question; then he sighed deeply, looking like he was about ready to sincerely pour out his heart to anyone willing to hear him.
I took a moment to consider my next sentence too because Billie's feelings were what I was concerned about the most, but at the same time I needed to have in mind that for all he knew, I wasn't aware of any aspect of his private life. He didn't know about my constant talks with Professor Green and he sure as hell didn't know about my vast investigation in his private file, but one thing was for certain: Billie was ready to open up to me the way I'm sure he hadn't done so with anyone before.
"For how long have you been doing it?" I asked at last.
"Since mom died, I think. I remember being in my room doing nothing in particular until a random anxiety attack came. Next thing I knew, I was pressing the razor blade against the skin on my arms, watching as it tore open. It felt good to finally let out all that tension."
"Does your father know about this?"
"Not only my father, but the entire school knows. I'm positively sure Chris knows it as well." And the previous pain that had shown itself through Billie's eyes when I found him sitting all alone at the football field slowly started to make its way back up his throat as if it had never left.
"How did they find out about it?"
His eyes darkened as he looked directly at mine, hesitating for a moment before asking, "You promise you won't freak out?" I only replied by placing a reassuring kiss to the back of his trembling hand. Only then, did Billie open his mouth to let a massive train of words come out. "A little while ago I had a...meltdown. Apparently after a certainly heated argument with my father, I completely lost control and cut a little too deep into my wrists. I had to be rushed to the hospital immediately because when he was finally able to break into my room, I just couldn't afford to lose more blood. The doctors gave me a few stitches and also a weekly appointment with a shrink after being in medical observation for over a month. Needless to say, every single person in our neighborhood heard about it."
A stray tear slid along his flushed cheek in an almost painful pace; Billie wiped his face furiously. "Thing is, you think you can stop it anytime you want, but the reality is you can't even restrict it to one part of your body. But you keep on doing it anyway because you believe you're doing no wrong; it feels good, so you don't even think you're hurting yourself. Soon enough, no matter where you are or with whom; the only thing you can wrap your mind around is the next time you’re alone, so you can… you know... And it's not exactly cutting what you become addicted to, but the thrill you get when you're doing it..." Billie lowered his sight. "You must think I'm crazy."
"No, you're just a little bit more complex than I had originally thought."
A sporadic smile passed through his lips.
"I know it's a bad thing... And I hadn't done it since a long time ago, but today was just awful, and-..." I shushed Billie with my index finder and placed my hand on top of his, "It's okay; I understand that this is not easy for you."
He sighed yet again before nuzzling into my neck. "I just wish everyone were like you."
My heart began to pound faster in my chest as I instinctively lifted Billie's arm to my mouth to kiss each and every one of the healing scars on it. I felt his once shivering body relax more and more until he fell limp against my own. We remained like that for a while, enjoying the warmth and closeness, resting against each other while the rest of what had been a cigarette burned quietly on the ashtray beside us until it slowly died away.
Two hours later we were driving along the relatively short distance to Billie Joe's house; the glistening moon above us following suit. The windows were closed but at one point, Billie complained about being cold, so I offered him my jacked that had been uselessly sitting in the back seat of the car. He gave me a shy thanks and placed the garment around his shoulders. As he handled the jacket, a thin, golden object fell from one of the pockets and made a grave thump as it collided with the hard surface beneath our feet. It was a golden pen that my mother had given me a long time ago, when I graduated from college if I'm not mistaken. It had my name engraved on it in black ink. Billie looked at it appreciatively as he cradled it in his hands.
"Never before did I stop once to analyze how pretty your name sounds. Michael Ryan Pritchard. Ryan. Michael. Michael... Mike."
It was quite amusing to hear Billie Joe rolling around my name on his tongue as if it was some sort of candy. Not only did it sound pretty, but also affectionate. "Can I call you Mike?"
"I'd like that," I smiled.
It wasn't long before we reached the three story house with the dark red facade and the immense double molded doors. I pulled over and turned the engine off, but for some reason, my fingers only curled tighter around the steering wheel in a desperate, yet useless attempt to hold onto the moment for a bit longer.
"I can't believe this is happening. You and I? I thought it was impossible," he told me. "Promise me something; promise this isn't going to end the minute I get out of your car, or when you see me tomorrow at school."
"You have my word," I replied earnestly while slightly wondering in the back of my mind why he would ask such a thing. Despite the fact that every little part of my very being was practically screaming at me to run away, I had no intention of doing so at all, no matter what the consequences could be.
Seemingly satisfied with my answer, Billie leaned forward and kissed me goodnight. The next words that came out of his mouth fell upon me like a light breeze, yet they hit me with the heaviness of a thunder storm. "There's one last thing I want you to know," he purred against my quivering lips.
"Yes?"
"I'm in love with you."
Something inside of me went off like a bonfire shooting across the sky. Trying to identify the feelings and emotions that came as a result of such magical words is useless and beyond impossible. He gave me one last peck, then calmly pushed the door open and walked away without giving me so much as a second to answer anything. It was probably for the best because even when I finally arrived home after driving in circles around the empty streets for hours in order to clear my mind, I was still a pathetic loss for words.
***
Considering that the next morning I woke up with even less energy than the night before when I had gone to bed, it wasn't exactly surprising that I arrived to school about twenty minutes earlier than I usually did; however, it turned out that locking myself in my office to have a little time to think was not exactly a good idea either, for I had barely taken my seat in front of the desk when there was a gentle knock followed by Principal Johnson poking his head through the door without even waiting for the 'Come in!' indication.
"Good morning, Pritchard!" he greeted me cheerfully.
"Morning, sir. Is there anything in particular I can do for you?"
"No, I was just on my way to the Teacher's Lounge to get myself some coffee and figured that if you were going to kick my ass over the fact that I skipped our drinking date yesterday, I might as well take it now and not in front of just about everybody at lunch."
"Oh, I'm pretty sure that Tom is the one who will be doing the ass kicking; I may have skipped the drinking date as well."
"My god, Michael!" Principal Johnson exclaimed while fully entering my office to take a seat on the chair opposite to the desk. "What was so damn important that you passed on alcohol?"
"Just a dinner invitation from my grandmother I had forgotten I had, but believe me, you do not want to mess with that old lady."
"Well, either way sounds like you had a better time than I did."
"What happened?"
"Christopher Matthews."
"What did he do this time?"
Principal Johnson then launched into explaining the same story I had gone through the previous day with Professor Green, during which I had to pull the most shocked face as if I weren't perfectly aware of the situation. There was, however, a moment in which, upon hearing the Principal's hypothesis about Chris taking it personal with Billie Joe, I let out a highly anticipated "You're right!" and Johnson gave me questioning look as if saying 'Did you know about this?'
"Oh well..." I started casually. "Billie and Chris had been having some problems in my class too. Apparently, Matthews likes to make fun of Billie's...cutting issue." I let the words come out of my mouth without any further consideration, and without taking into account that they would get me in even deeper trouble.
"How do you know about that? I thought it was specified on his private file; only the school counselor and I are supposed to know about it."
This is exactly why I chose not to feel anything all the time; feelings make you stupid, and my current attraction to certain young, black haired man had definitely switched off my intelligence.
I took in a huge breath and exhaled very slowly. "Ok, how can I explain this? Billie is one of my brightest students. Eventually, I noticed he was getting behind on his homework, and we ultimately agreed on the fact that he needed private tutoring. Billie is a very troubled kid; the minute I sat down to talk to him, he told me everything."
"He told you everything?" Johnson repeated incredulous.
"Why is it so hard to believe?"
"Billie Joe Armstrong doesn't talk to anyone; not to his psychiatrist, not to the school counselor, not even to his own father! For all I know, his doctor has been trying to make him open up about the reason he attempted suicide for over eight months now, and you're telling me it only took you a few tutoring sessions to make him spit it out?"
"It’s all about the approach, sir. My subject is meaningful to him because he loves literature, so it was not hard for him to trust me."
My boss eyed me for a few more minutes, seemingly trying to process what I had just told him. Eventually he shrugged and snorted noisily. "Well, what do I know? Maybe you should be the counselor instead of that petty Mr. Hannigan. Be careful, though, as you said, Billie is a very troubled kid. On the other hand, I need my caffeine fix now. See you at lunch, professor." He smiled warmly, then turned towards the door. I did not understand what he meant by be careful, but I lost track of it anyway for yet another question came into my mind and I just couldn't keep my mouth shut about it. "Excuse me, sir; I need to know one last thing."
"Yes, Mr. Pritchard?"
"What will be Matthews' punishment?"
"Detention for over a week. Goodbye!" He closed the door behind him.
I just could not wrap my mind around it. Principal Johnson might have been a very flexible and friendly boss, but when it comes to keeping the discipline among students of John Swett High, the man was something close to a Captain of the USA Army. The reason why such an insignificant sanction was given to such an awful crime was unknown to me, but whatever it was; Chris was not going to get away with this. I decided to take the matter into my own hands; after all since the first time Billie threw his arms around my neck, he became mine to protect, and I would be damned if I let that fucking moron harm him in any way again. I quickly stood up and left my office, my hands unconsciously curled into tight fists as I went over the entire school until I finally came across the exact person to whom I needed to talk.
In a swift movement, I grasped his hand and led him to the Janitor's room, locking the door right behind us. I tried to breath, I tried to calm down, but the suspicious grin that appeared in the kid's face just made it all more difficult. I didn't know for how long I would be able to hold it together.
"Just like the good old times, right Mikey?"
"Focus, Matthews! The only reason I'm doing this is because I need to tell you something, and you'd better listen to me because I'll only say it once."
Chris knitted his eyebrows skeptically. "I'm all ears..."
"You can mess with me all you want; I don't give a shit about you or your stupid tricks, but you'd better leave Billie Joe Armstrong out of this because God help me if you don't. Do you hear me?" My anger was rising at levels that were unknown even to me.
"Oh, so I take it the little bitch went crying to you about the stupid, insignificant joke we played on him."
"He didn't have to; every single soul in this school knows what you did, and let me tell you something-..."
"I'm not scared of you, Pritchard."
That was it; that was the last straw. I took him by the collar and forced him to look at me. "Don't you fucking dare interrupting me again while I'm speaking, did you hear me? You're going to apologize to Billie and you're going to clean up the mess you did on his locker; I don't give a shit if you have to use your goddamn tongue, I want that locker spotless by tomorrow morning." Then, I released him with such incredible force, that he went stumbling against the wall of the rickety closet. I turned for the door.
"Or what?" I heard behind me.
"Believe me, Christopher; you do not want to find out. Don't test me. Remember who taught you everything you know?"
That finally shut him up. I watched in delight as he pursed his lips once he realized there was no snarky comeback he could use this time. Satisfied with myself, I exited the small room, leaving Matthews alone for him to figure out which chemicals he could mix in order to dissolve red spray paint.
Back in my office, I didn't notice the white envelope that had been strategically placed on the very corner of my desk until I graced it with my fingers and it fell delicately to the floor with the lightness of a feather. When I opened it and took out the pale piece of paper placed inside, my heart skipped a beat.
"Dear Mike,
This is my favorite poem by William Blake; it is called Love's Secret. I'm sure you know it, but the reason I wanted to share it with you is that ever since the first time I laid eyes on you, it acquired a new meaning, and every time I read it, I can't help thinking of you. Please read it and see if you think about me too.
Never seek to tell thy love.
Love that never told can be;
For the gently wind does move
Silently, invisibly.
I told my love! I told my love!
I told “him” all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears:
Ah! “He” did depart.
Soon after “he” was gone from me,
A traveler came by.
Silently, invisibly:
He took “him” with a sigh.
What I told you yesterday is nothing but the truth. I guess love is not secret anymore.
Love,
Your baby."
***END OF PART 9***
Author: Ana
Pairing: Billie/Mike
Rating: R
Notes: First of all, I seriously need to apologize for the lack of updates in the last weeks; it's just that school has been really chaotic lately, and with all these stupid group presentations I've had to prepare and my English exam, I haven't been able to write anything. I've hardly had the time to reply to a few comments, but I do want you to know that I read every single one of them and I do try to answer as soon as possible. I hate to leave even one of them unanswered. Your opinion is quite important to me and your feedback will always be my inspiration to keep on writing; therefore, as long as you want to read this story, I will keep updating. Never in my life would I abandon my readers.
Yes, I'm done... I will let you get to the actual chapter now. I just wanted to say again that I'm really sorry. This one is long (Four thousand words!) so brace yourselves!
Previous Parts: http://missmacy3334.livejournal.com/1975.html#
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
What started out as a passionate, heated kiss slowly started to fade away, losing strength with every tired movement of our facial muscles until it became nothing more than a comfortable embrace; we certainly were not ready for anything else considering how rough things had gotten for the two of us in the last couple of weeks.
The silence was comfortable too; Billie was now curled up against me while lazily playing with my fingers, and every now and then I would lift his chin and seek his lips with mine to press them together in a tender kiss, but he hardly said a word. For my part, I had been waiting so long for this to happen that every moment with him seemed to taste even sweeter than the last one, and therefore, I too, decided that the only thing words would be good for was to ruin the inner peace that had started to grow somewhere in my soul after God knows how long of being trapped underneath these emotions that overwhelmed my entire being. Needless to say, this new feeling was far too satisfying to give it up.
I knew that sooner or later Billie Joe and I would be forced to come out of our much desired fantasy world because there was still a number of questions that remained unanswered, most of them concerning not only the feelings we seemed to have towards each other, but also Billie's home life, his even more worrying self-harm issues and last but not least, the situation with Chris Matthews.
Yes, at any given moment, we would be back to face every day's reality once again, but we preferred not to talk about it for the moment. For the moment, there was an unspoken understatement of enjoying each and every single minute together, and that's exactly what we were going to do.
"It feels really good, you know?" Billie Joe cooed in my ear all of a sudden; his hot breath making me shiver as soon as it made contact with my skin.
"What does?"
Billie paused and bit his lip. "The way you kiss me," he said finally.
"Well, come here and show me how much you like it."
A tiny giggle came out from his mouth as he wrapped his slender fingers around my shoulders for support before he carefully straddled my waist; the burning heat coming from his body enveloped me like a warm wave of summer air and my hands started shaking. He took my face and licked his lips seductively as he pulled me closer and closer towards him. Our lips touched for what must have been the millionth time that afternoon, but it was just as thrilling as the very first one, and a thousand times better that any kiss I'd had before.
"Oh, Billie..." I cried a bit louder than necessary as his palm sneaked its way down my shirt and slid all over my naked chest.
"I like it better when you call me baby."
Closing the gap between us once again, his tongue caressed my lower lip, forcing my mouth open before gingerly delving in. He moaned softly once he felt my hands that were now grasping his hips to keep him in place; I kissed him harder; it was his turn to gasp in surprise and I laughed silently to my insides.
Just like before, we ended up surrounding each other with our arms entwined together and Billie's mouth massaging gently the sensitive spots on my neck; the kisses started to fade away one more time as well as my baby's consciousness. The next moment, he fell asleep while still holding me.
***
Around half an hour went away like a sigh. The bedroom soon began to fill with strangely-shaped shadows as the last sun rays of the day crept through the closed shutters; it was getting late, and cold. I pulled a blanket over Billie's sleeping form to protect him from the chilly air that had now started to create goose bumps on his flesh; then I wriggled away as steadily as it was possible not to wake him while I attempted to open the top drawer of the night stand in order to get myself a cigarette. No sooner had I placed it on my lips, than Billie stirred uncomfortably beside me, so I decided to go sit by the window to avoid any unnecessary disturbances.
It wasn't long until my eyes fixated on the rising and falling action taking place in his chest, on the small, involuntary twitches of his face, and especially on his parted lips closing and opening rhythmically as he breathed; it was so beautiful watching him sleep that I found it quite hard to get my eyes off of him, but then again, here, at home, inside our own personal space, we were safe.
It was then that I started wondering, what would it be like to wake up day after day with Billie Joe lying right next to me, for the rest of my life? Was it even possible? No; deep inside of me I knew how far-fetched it sounded, but I still allowed myself to fantasize with the thought for a while; just for the sake of the moment.
Billie rolled on the bed; he rubbed his eyes with his fist and sat up slowly. He yawned heavily before asking what time it was. "Around six," I answered him before carelessly flicking the cigarette. I looked up only to find Billie's green eyes peering at me.
"What is it about this place that makes me fall asleep even when I'm with you?" And his voice was still dripping tiredness everywhere.
"It's boring as hell; that's what it is about it."
"No, it's not boring; it's romantic," Billie corrected me with a sweet smile.
"As romantic as those cats singing outside. Come sit with me, baby."
He did as he was told, diligently claiming his place on my lap before resting his head on my shoulder, adjusting himself just a little bit so he could get a better view of the mesmerizing orange tones that the sky had acquired as the sun began to hide away on the horizon. Once again, he pulled the cigarette off my lips and took a drag; I asked him if he wanted one, but he gently shook his head. "This one tastes like you," he murmured. It was then that I understood why he had done the same thing the first time he was here.
Billie fell silent for a moment, then his delicate voice took me by surprise one more time, "I want to thank you again for not...you know...telling on me about the cuts and everything."
"Listen, I want you to know that I would do absolutely anything to protect you, but you do have some explaining to do about that."
"What do you want to know?" Billie's eyes were glued to mine when he asked that question; then he sighed deeply, looking like he was about ready to sincerely pour out his heart to anyone willing to hear him.
I took a moment to consider my next sentence too because Billie's feelings were what I was concerned about the most, but at the same time I needed to have in mind that for all he knew, I wasn't aware of any aspect of his private life. He didn't know about my constant talks with Professor Green and he sure as hell didn't know about my vast investigation in his private file, but one thing was for certain: Billie was ready to open up to me the way I'm sure he hadn't done so with anyone before.
"For how long have you been doing it?" I asked at last.
"Since mom died, I think. I remember being in my room doing nothing in particular until a random anxiety attack came. Next thing I knew, I was pressing the razor blade against the skin on my arms, watching as it tore open. It felt good to finally let out all that tension."
"Does your father know about this?"
"Not only my father, but the entire school knows. I'm positively sure Chris knows it as well." And the previous pain that had shown itself through Billie's eyes when I found him sitting all alone at the football field slowly started to make its way back up his throat as if it had never left.
"How did they find out about it?"
His eyes darkened as he looked directly at mine, hesitating for a moment before asking, "You promise you won't freak out?" I only replied by placing a reassuring kiss to the back of his trembling hand. Only then, did Billie open his mouth to let a massive train of words come out. "A little while ago I had a...meltdown. Apparently after a certainly heated argument with my father, I completely lost control and cut a little too deep into my wrists. I had to be rushed to the hospital immediately because when he was finally able to break into my room, I just couldn't afford to lose more blood. The doctors gave me a few stitches and also a weekly appointment with a shrink after being in medical observation for over a month. Needless to say, every single person in our neighborhood heard about it."
A stray tear slid along his flushed cheek in an almost painful pace; Billie wiped his face furiously. "Thing is, you think you can stop it anytime you want, but the reality is you can't even restrict it to one part of your body. But you keep on doing it anyway because you believe you're doing no wrong; it feels good, so you don't even think you're hurting yourself. Soon enough, no matter where you are or with whom; the only thing you can wrap your mind around is the next time you’re alone, so you can… you know... And it's not exactly cutting what you become addicted to, but the thrill you get when you're doing it..." Billie lowered his sight. "You must think I'm crazy."
"No, you're just a little bit more complex than I had originally thought."
A sporadic smile passed through his lips.
"I know it's a bad thing... And I hadn't done it since a long time ago, but today was just awful, and-..." I shushed Billie with my index finder and placed my hand on top of his, "It's okay; I understand that this is not easy for you."
He sighed yet again before nuzzling into my neck. "I just wish everyone were like you."
My heart began to pound faster in my chest as I instinctively lifted Billie's arm to my mouth to kiss each and every one of the healing scars on it. I felt his once shivering body relax more and more until he fell limp against my own. We remained like that for a while, enjoying the warmth and closeness, resting against each other while the rest of what had been a cigarette burned quietly on the ashtray beside us until it slowly died away.
Two hours later we were driving along the relatively short distance to Billie Joe's house; the glistening moon above us following suit. The windows were closed but at one point, Billie complained about being cold, so I offered him my jacked that had been uselessly sitting in the back seat of the car. He gave me a shy thanks and placed the garment around his shoulders. As he handled the jacket, a thin, golden object fell from one of the pockets and made a grave thump as it collided with the hard surface beneath our feet. It was a golden pen that my mother had given me a long time ago, when I graduated from college if I'm not mistaken. It had my name engraved on it in black ink. Billie looked at it appreciatively as he cradled it in his hands.
"Never before did I stop once to analyze how pretty your name sounds. Michael Ryan Pritchard. Ryan. Michael. Michael... Mike."
It was quite amusing to hear Billie Joe rolling around my name on his tongue as if it was some sort of candy. Not only did it sound pretty, but also affectionate. "Can I call you Mike?"
"I'd like that," I smiled.
It wasn't long before we reached the three story house with the dark red facade and the immense double molded doors. I pulled over and turned the engine off, but for some reason, my fingers only curled tighter around the steering wheel in a desperate, yet useless attempt to hold onto the moment for a bit longer.
"I can't believe this is happening. You and I? I thought it was impossible," he told me. "Promise me something; promise this isn't going to end the minute I get out of your car, or when you see me tomorrow at school."
"You have my word," I replied earnestly while slightly wondering in the back of my mind why he would ask such a thing. Despite the fact that every little part of my very being was practically screaming at me to run away, I had no intention of doing so at all, no matter what the consequences could be.
Seemingly satisfied with my answer, Billie leaned forward and kissed me goodnight. The next words that came out of his mouth fell upon me like a light breeze, yet they hit me with the heaviness of a thunder storm. "There's one last thing I want you to know," he purred against my quivering lips.
"Yes?"
"I'm in love with you."
Something inside of me went off like a bonfire shooting across the sky. Trying to identify the feelings and emotions that came as a result of such magical words is useless and beyond impossible. He gave me one last peck, then calmly pushed the door open and walked away without giving me so much as a second to answer anything. It was probably for the best because even when I finally arrived home after driving in circles around the empty streets for hours in order to clear my mind, I was still a pathetic loss for words.
***
Considering that the next morning I woke up with even less energy than the night before when I had gone to bed, it wasn't exactly surprising that I arrived to school about twenty minutes earlier than I usually did; however, it turned out that locking myself in my office to have a little time to think was not exactly a good idea either, for I had barely taken my seat in front of the desk when there was a gentle knock followed by Principal Johnson poking his head through the door without even waiting for the 'Come in!' indication.
"Good morning, Pritchard!" he greeted me cheerfully.
"Morning, sir. Is there anything in particular I can do for you?"
"No, I was just on my way to the Teacher's Lounge to get myself some coffee and figured that if you were going to kick my ass over the fact that I skipped our drinking date yesterday, I might as well take it now and not in front of just about everybody at lunch."
"Oh, I'm pretty sure that Tom is the one who will be doing the ass kicking; I may have skipped the drinking date as well."
"My god, Michael!" Principal Johnson exclaimed while fully entering my office to take a seat on the chair opposite to the desk. "What was so damn important that you passed on alcohol?"
"Just a dinner invitation from my grandmother I had forgotten I had, but believe me, you do not want to mess with that old lady."
"Well, either way sounds like you had a better time than I did."
"What happened?"
"Christopher Matthews."
"What did he do this time?"
Principal Johnson then launched into explaining the same story I had gone through the previous day with Professor Green, during which I had to pull the most shocked face as if I weren't perfectly aware of the situation. There was, however, a moment in which, upon hearing the Principal's hypothesis about Chris taking it personal with Billie Joe, I let out a highly anticipated "You're right!" and Johnson gave me questioning look as if saying 'Did you know about this?'
"Oh well..." I started casually. "Billie and Chris had been having some problems in my class too. Apparently, Matthews likes to make fun of Billie's...cutting issue." I let the words come out of my mouth without any further consideration, and without taking into account that they would get me in even deeper trouble.
"How do you know about that? I thought it was specified on his private file; only the school counselor and I are supposed to know about it."
This is exactly why I chose not to feel anything all the time; feelings make you stupid, and my current attraction to certain young, black haired man had definitely switched off my intelligence.
I took in a huge breath and exhaled very slowly. "Ok, how can I explain this? Billie is one of my brightest students. Eventually, I noticed he was getting behind on his homework, and we ultimately agreed on the fact that he needed private tutoring. Billie is a very troubled kid; the minute I sat down to talk to him, he told me everything."
"He told you everything?" Johnson repeated incredulous.
"Why is it so hard to believe?"
"Billie Joe Armstrong doesn't talk to anyone; not to his psychiatrist, not to the school counselor, not even to his own father! For all I know, his doctor has been trying to make him open up about the reason he attempted suicide for over eight months now, and you're telling me it only took you a few tutoring sessions to make him spit it out?"
"It’s all about the approach, sir. My subject is meaningful to him because he loves literature, so it was not hard for him to trust me."
My boss eyed me for a few more minutes, seemingly trying to process what I had just told him. Eventually he shrugged and snorted noisily. "Well, what do I know? Maybe you should be the counselor instead of that petty Mr. Hannigan. Be careful, though, as you said, Billie is a very troubled kid. On the other hand, I need my caffeine fix now. See you at lunch, professor." He smiled warmly, then turned towards the door. I did not understand what he meant by be careful, but I lost track of it anyway for yet another question came into my mind and I just couldn't keep my mouth shut about it. "Excuse me, sir; I need to know one last thing."
"Yes, Mr. Pritchard?"
"What will be Matthews' punishment?"
"Detention for over a week. Goodbye!" He closed the door behind him.
I just could not wrap my mind around it. Principal Johnson might have been a very flexible and friendly boss, but when it comes to keeping the discipline among students of John Swett High, the man was something close to a Captain of the USA Army. The reason why such an insignificant sanction was given to such an awful crime was unknown to me, but whatever it was; Chris was not going to get away with this. I decided to take the matter into my own hands; after all since the first time Billie threw his arms around my neck, he became mine to protect, and I would be damned if I let that fucking moron harm him in any way again. I quickly stood up and left my office, my hands unconsciously curled into tight fists as I went over the entire school until I finally came across the exact person to whom I needed to talk.
In a swift movement, I grasped his hand and led him to the Janitor's room, locking the door right behind us. I tried to breath, I tried to calm down, but the suspicious grin that appeared in the kid's face just made it all more difficult. I didn't know for how long I would be able to hold it together.
"Just like the good old times, right Mikey?"
"Focus, Matthews! The only reason I'm doing this is because I need to tell you something, and you'd better listen to me because I'll only say it once."
Chris knitted his eyebrows skeptically. "I'm all ears..."
"You can mess with me all you want; I don't give a shit about you or your stupid tricks, but you'd better leave Billie Joe Armstrong out of this because God help me if you don't. Do you hear me?" My anger was rising at levels that were unknown even to me.
"Oh, so I take it the little bitch went crying to you about the stupid, insignificant joke we played on him."
"He didn't have to; every single soul in this school knows what you did, and let me tell you something-..."
"I'm not scared of you, Pritchard."
That was it; that was the last straw. I took him by the collar and forced him to look at me. "Don't you fucking dare interrupting me again while I'm speaking, did you hear me? You're going to apologize to Billie and you're going to clean up the mess you did on his locker; I don't give a shit if you have to use your goddamn tongue, I want that locker spotless by tomorrow morning." Then, I released him with such incredible force, that he went stumbling against the wall of the rickety closet. I turned for the door.
"Or what?" I heard behind me.
"Believe me, Christopher; you do not want to find out. Don't test me. Remember who taught you everything you know?"
That finally shut him up. I watched in delight as he pursed his lips once he realized there was no snarky comeback he could use this time. Satisfied with myself, I exited the small room, leaving Matthews alone for him to figure out which chemicals he could mix in order to dissolve red spray paint.
Back in my office, I didn't notice the white envelope that had been strategically placed on the very corner of my desk until I graced it with my fingers and it fell delicately to the floor with the lightness of a feather. When I opened it and took out the pale piece of paper placed inside, my heart skipped a beat.
"Dear Mike,
This is my favorite poem by William Blake; it is called Love's Secret. I'm sure you know it, but the reason I wanted to share it with you is that ever since the first time I laid eyes on you, it acquired a new meaning, and every time I read it, I can't help thinking of you. Please read it and see if you think about me too.
Never seek to tell thy love.
Love that never told can be;
For the gently wind does move
Silently, invisibly.
I told my love! I told my love!
I told “him” all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears:
Ah! “He” did depart.
Soon after “he” was gone from me,
A traveler came by.
Silently, invisibly:
He took “him” with a sigh.
What I told you yesterday is nothing but the truth. I guess love is not secret anymore.
Love,
Your baby."
***END OF PART 9***