Piano Man

All The Time

Billie's Pov

November 1988

I was sitting on my bed holding blue, strumming random riffs. I didn't have any direction or idea as to what I was doing. Lyla was sitting on my stool, which was really her stool that i happened to own and have in my room. The stool was stolen from a bar, that my dad use to party at a lot in college, and its been ours since he stole it his sophomore year. It eventually became just mine when I was around 12, and when I was around 13, it became Lyla's stool. She was wearing her father's leather jacket and a pair of blue jeans. I was wearing an Operation ivy tee and black sweatpants. My hair was a moppy mess. Lyla had her hair tucked away into a floppy bun that hung behind her head. She had on a silver necklace with a pearl at the end.

"Did you hear what happened to Carlee?"

"No, and I don't care Billie."

"Really?"

Lyla was always a listener. She loved to listen to drama. She wanted to stay quiet and just take it all in. Especially when it came to people who had hurt her in the past. Ass holes were her favorite to hear about. Lyla was the biggest gossip I knew. I mean I really only talked to like three people; Tre, Mike, and Lyla but still.

"No, tell me obviously I want to know!"

"So she was sitting in my 5th hour, english with Mr. scharrer, then she was pulled out of class by the principal and a police officer."

"Your shtting me right?"

"No, I'm serious."

"Do you know what happened?"

"Well, from what I heard, was someone reported her for smoking in the courtyard during lunch and basically she got searched."

"Oh shit."

"Yeah."

She was smiling and laughing. A piece of her hair that was separated from the bun laid stuck to the front of her face.

"Hey are you busy saturday? I was think you, me, Tre and Mike hangout down by Christie Road."

"Uh-yeah. Kinda."

Lyla's Pov

Fuck. I was trying to avoid bringing up Ryan with Billie. Billie barely could handle hearing about a possible phone call, but now there was a date that was going to happen. I knew that Billie just wanted to protect me, his best friend, but seriously. He was going to find out eventtuall and the last thing I needed was having to listen to him in a few weeks whining about "Why didn't you tell me?" or "Lyla seriously I'm your best friend!".

"What you do you mean kinda? Like could you get out of it? Is it something with y'know your mom?"

"Uhm, well actually you remember that guy at Gilman that you have a death wish against?"

"Lyla?"

His tone was seriously positive but also not happy. I excepted him to already be going crazy telling me how he had a bad vibe about this guy and how I was going to end up the way I did after Carlee. Just to recap; I dated Carlee in 8th grade for a few months and it was my only relationship ever... if you even wanna call it that.

"Billie?"

He sighed, like he wanted to say something but didn't wanna be an ass.

"Well, are you excited?"

He actually seemed interested in having this conversation. It felt good. I was happy to talk to him about this, finally being on the other side of the conversation. After sitting through listening to Billie's list of ladies and occasionally a few men, it felt good to be talking instead of listening.

"Yeah, I think. Nervous."

He walked over to me reaching for a hug. He placed his head on mine and held me like a small child.

"My little girl has grown up so fast."

"Billie."

"What?"

"I'm older than you, by like a few months."

"Wah wah wah Ms. Mancini."

"Shut it Armstrong."

"You love me."

"Sure, loser."

"Aw thanks. I love you too."

Billie and I had been there for eachother in everything. He were close, closer than most friends. I think I pissed a lot of his girlfriends off simply by exisiting in his prsence but billie always let me know it would always be me before him. Y'know; Bros before hoes. Maybe thats why he hated hearing about my prospects.

I got up off of my stool, that was really Billie's family airloom and threw myself on Biliie's bed. I laid on my back starring up at the ceiling. His sheet smelt of teenage boy, not like smelling, they just smelt like Billie.

"Billie?"

"Lyla?"

She laid down next to me on his back looking up at the ceiling.

"You'll always been number one, you know that right?"

He rolled over and faced me looking into my face. I turned to look at him.

He sighed, but not like he was annoyed like he was relieved.

"Okay, Lyla."

He reached for my hand and held it to his heart. I smirked and laughed.

"Billie, you are such a freak."

"Says the one that use to write love letters to Tom Cruise!"

"What does that have to do with the conversation at hand?"

He smirked and laughed, still holding my hand.

"You can't take anything serious can you?"