{Billie Joe Armstrong} - Sex And Drugs And Rock'n'Roll

Chapter 38: Crying, Drinking, and Guilt

I stepped into the kitchen. It was midnight, and I was pretty tired from not getting enough sleep the past two nights. I yawned and ran my hand through my hair, then I went back to the living room.

"Mike," I said. "It's midnight. We should go to sleep soon.".

"Alright." Mike replied. I headed up stairs, brushed my teeth, and got into my nightgown. I studied myself in the mirror, thinking that I looked like a sleep- deprived hooker.

I walked across the bedroom, hit the light switch, the room went dark, and I got under the covers.

"Did you have a good night?" I asked Mike.

"Yep." he replied. "Did you?".

"Well, it was as good of a night as it could've been.".

"Aww.".

I rolled over and hugged Mike. "Goodnight." I said.

"Goodnight, Liz.".

I let go of him and looked off at the wall. My eyes had finally adjusted to the dark. I closed my eyes and moved a bit closer to Mike. I can trust him. I thought. If he really cares about me this much, I can trust him.

***

It had been a week since Billie died. My heart was almost literally aching. I was losing weight because I was only eating once or twice a day, whenever I felt like it.

"Are you getting out much?" Tre asked me over the phone.

"No," I sighed. "I don't feel like it. I'm too sad.".

"Aww, well, maybe one night we could just go to the bar together or something. It would be good for you.".

"Yeah, I guess I'd be down for that.".

"Alright. Well, I'll call you again tomorrow just to make sure that you're doing okay.".

"Okay.".

"Bye, Liz.".

"Bye.".

I ended the call, then I went and sat out on the front step. It was a nice and sunny day. The air smelled fresh. But it still didn't help my mood much.

I looked down at my ring finger. I had taken off my ring and it was on my dresser. It should have still been on my finger, and Billie still should have been alive. It wasn't fair that he died.

I sat out on the front step for quite a while. When I finally went back inside, it was almost four.

I went upstairs and brought out the light blue photo album. I looked through it, trying to remember what was happening in every single picture.

The very last one was about a week after Billie's birthday, so it had been taken just over two weeks ago. It was of him napping on our bed. He had looked so peaceful, I just had to get a photo.

I noticed that there were two empty pages behind it. I should fill them up. I thought.

My stomach groaned, so I put the photo album back in the drawer and went down to the kitchen. I made a sandwich with turkey, lettuce, tomato, and cheese.

I sat down at the table and took a bite of my sandwich. I thought back to that last picture of Billie in the photo album. Is it wrong that I'm sleeping with Mike? I asked myself. We're not having sex, we're just sharing a bed. But is it still wrong?

***

"Is it wrong that we're sharing a bed?" I asked Mike. We were sitting on the front step together.