Cool's My Last Name

Chapter 1

Mary is not your average teenage girl. She doesn't go to parties, she doesn't gossip, she doesn't spend her days swooning over middle aged rock stars with guyliner and neck beards.

Well, it doesn't count when the rock stars are only eighteen. Guyliner? Okay, we'll give you that. But she dodged the middle aged groomer bullet.

Mary works at a bakery in Belgium. Brussels to be exact. Her hair is black, and her eyes are brown. She wouldn't say she's anything special. She's much too shy for that. She would call herself your average white girl.

She's 5 foot 6. Just tall enough to reach the top shelf, but too short to be taller than the girls' basketball team. She adds an extra inch when asked.

As you see, Mary's pretty plain. So when Green Day walked into her bakery, she didn't expect her life to be changed forever.

Mary's POV

Holy shit! It's them! It's Green Day!

I stood there with a blank look on my face. "Uhh, how may I help you, boys," I asked. I wiped my sweaty plans on my apron and bit my lip nervously.

Tre looked me in the eyes. "Are you on the menu?"

I blushed. "I...uhh...we have pastries."

Billie laughed. "Ooh, rejected! Well, if he's struck out, I'd like a cinnamon roll and some banana bread."

"Do you guys have coffee? I've only had five cups today," said Mike.

"COFFEE, LEAVE IT BLACK," I shouted to the back room. I got Billie his carbs and bagged them up. "Is that all?"

Tre sat on the counter, facing me. "I want a cherry strudel, and a cheese danish for the lovely lady. Maybe we could enjoy our sweets together," he suggested.

Someone brought out the coffee and I rang up the price. "I'm busy. I have an actual job, Mr. Cool. I can't just take a break and dine with a rock star." I bagged up Tre's food and placed it on the counter. "Your total is 10 euros."

Mike paid for their food and winked at me. "Thanks, hon. It was a pleasure meeting you... Mary," he said looking at my name tag.

"You too. Enjoy your treats," I said, handing Billie the change.

You too? What a fucking idiot.

I thought that was it. I had already rejected Tre's advances, so I struck out, right?

Nope.

Tre came back to the counter with his pastries. "If you can't sit with me, then I'll stand with you". He handed me the danish and smiled.

"If you insist, sir," I said, accepting the pastry.

"No need to be so formal. I'm just a guy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to eat sugary bread with him."

I chuckled. "Nothing Hill? Do I look like I'm the rom-com type?"

He took a good look at me and resumed eating his cherry strudel.

"Well? Do I?"

"Oh, I was just using that as an excuse to check you out," he said, a cheeky grin splayed on his face.

I scoffed. "Tre Cool, you nasty bastard," I joked.

"In the flesh". He finished up his food and threw his trash away. "That was delicious. Do you make these?"

"Yeah. It's my family's recipe."

"Lucky me. Anything else I can use to stall? You seem like an interesting girl."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"No. We're off the road for a while. We're stopping in Brussels for a week, then we have a show here."

"What hotel are you staying at?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he said with a wink.

"Ugh, you're disgusting. It was an innocent question."

He laughed. "I'm just messing with you. Billie and Mike are staying at a hotel, but we could only afford one room. I'm on my own."

Oh my god this is too perfect.

"I have an extra room at my apartment if you're up for it. Don't worry. I'm not a creep or anything. Just a fangirl."

"Wow, how reassuring. I'll take it". He grabbed a napkin and jotted down his phone number. "Text me the address. And while you're at it, call me later. I gotta run, babe, but it's been fun. I'll see you tonight."

"Bye," I shouted after him as he walked out the bakery and into a black limo.

I put the napkin and put it in my pocket.

Holy shit, this can't be happening.