She. [Billie Joe Armstrong]

She Screams In Silence

We soon pulled up to a house with large exterior windows and a huge wooden door. Billie parked the car in the driveway. We got out and Billie locked the car. We walked along the path towards the door. As we walked, the front door opened, exposing the most enthusiastic smile. Billie and I continued forward. The boy continued to smile. It was a little awkward. When we got a bit closer, Billie Joe spoke up.

"Hey, Tré."

Tré greeted him as well. He looked at me the entire time.

"Oh, this is, uh, my friend. Her name is Avery." I put my hand out for the boy to shake.

"I'm Tré." He said, pulling me into an unexpected but very welcoming hug. I patted his back.

"Nice to meet you." I said over his shoulder.

"You too." He pulled away.

"Should we go downstairs?" Billie asked.

"Yeah, c'mon, Avery." Tré replied.

I followed them downstairs. When we reached the bottom step, I could see a large stage-like setup. In the back of the room, there was a large set of drums. There was also three guitar stands, each holding a guitar-two six-string electric and one bass. Tré sat down at the drums, while Billie picked up a blue guitar that was heavily decorated with stickers and tape. He strummed a few notes as he was tuning. Tré played a simple beat. When they had finished, they looked at each other.

"Where's Mike?" Inquired Billie.

"I'm really not sure." Tré furrowed his eyebrows.

"Weird, you should call him."

"Can you? I don't have my phone."

"I don't either."

"You can use my phone if you want." I offered.

"Thanks!" Billie exclaimed, clearly relieved.

I handed over my phone and he called.

Soon, a boy with blondish hair showed up holding Starbucks.

"Really?" I scolded.

"What?" He defended.

"You're gonna show up fifteen minutes late with Starbucks?"

We all had a good laugh. Once all that was over, the Mike picked up his guitar. He also tuned his instrument. All of the sounds from their tuning quickly transitioned to the intro of a song. They all began to play. The song they played was lovely. I gave an excited round of applause and ran up to Billie.

"That was so great!" I shouted excitedly.



"Thanks!" Billie wrapped his arm around my waist as I gave him a friendly peck on the cheek.

They played a ton of different songs. I had never heard most of them, but that was because they were originals. When practice was over, Tré's mom made us all dinner.

"Oh my God, this is so amazing." I mumbled through a full mouth of lasagna.

"Yeah, she is an amazing cook." Mike pointed his fork towards Tré's mom.

"When do you need to be home?" She asked.

"Um, yesterday?" I slumped in my chair.

"Why didn't you go home?"

"I was with Billie."

"Isn't your dad worried?"

"When isn't he?"

"I'm sure it's just because he cares."

"My dad does not care about me. Nobody does."

"That's a lie. I care about you. Billie cares about you. Tré and Mike care about you."

"Glad somebody does."

"I bet your dad does, too."

I rolled my eyes and looked away.

"Billie, I think I should go now." I said in an irritated tone.

"Alright."

He dropped his fork and so did I. We got up from our seats. I exchanged an apologetic look with Mike.

'Sorry' I mouthed.

He nodded slightly, accepting my apology.

Billie thanked everyone and we left. We got into the car and Billie dropped his head into his hands. He took a deep breath. Then he looked up.

"What was all that?" He asked.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say all those things. I'm sorry I made us leave."

"I mean about nobody caring about you. Where did that come from?" He started the car as he spoke.

"I don't know. Just sometimes I get really down about myself."

"Why? Don't you know you're perfect?"

"No."

"You are, though."

"I'm not convinced."

"What can I do to convince you that you're more than you think?"

I wiped some newly formed tears from my eyes.

"Nothing. Can't you just let me hate myself?"

"I don't want anyone to hate you. Especially not yourself."

I ignored him. He continued down the road. We sat in silence, only hearing the crunching of tiny rocks on the road. Every few minutes, I turned to look at Billie. The expression on his face reflected sadness and confusion. The silence was killing me. I pulled out my iPod and put my headphones in. When I pressed play, it was Adam's Song by Blink-182. I listened to every word and thought about all the words. I could definitely relate to it all. But if I was gone, how would Peyton feel? How would my dad feel? My dad would probably feel relieved. Ever since mom died, he's had to take care of me all by himself. It's probably a lot of work. But what about what Tré's mom was telling me earlier in the kitchen. All the guys care about me. Or maybe she's just saying that for consolation.

We drove close to the library.

"Where now?" Billie asked.

I directed him to my house. When we arrived at my house, I got out of the car.

"Thanks, Billie."

He nodded and waved. I closed the door. I walked up to my door and slowly opened it, hoping that my dad wouldn't notice. I successfully opened it without a sound. As I was creeping up the stairs, I heard a sound at the bottom step. My eyes were closed tightly. I turned slowly. I opened my eyes to see my fathers angry face.

"Where were you?" His words burned in my stomach.

"Out."

"With whom?"

"A friend."

"I'm not gonna stand here and take your shit. Tell me where you were and who you were with."

"I was with my friend Billie. We were at his house and his friend's house."

"Why didn't you come home or at least call me?"

"I didn't think you would let me go."

"And you think that the punishment will be better than not going out with your friend?"

"What is it?"

"I haven't decided. But for now, you're going to your room."

I huffed and stomped off to my room. I slammed the door behind me. I threw myself at my bed and lay there in silence. I knew that whatever my punishment was, it would be terrible. My dad always came up with the worst that he could.

As I thought about the fate that would soon overcome me, my phone began to vibrate. I picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey," the voice spoke "are you alright?"

"Who is this?"

"Mike."

"Where'd you get my number?"

"Billie called earlier on your phone."

"Makes sense."

"Yeah. So are you feeling alright? You seemed down earlier."

"No. I'm not alright."

"Why not?"

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"I can understand that, but if you ever want to talk to someone - about anything - you can always talk to me."

"Thanks. That means a lot."

"Any time. And you should get some sleep, don't you think?"

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mike. And thanks."

"No problem."