The Innocent Can Never Last

All Out Brawl

Emma's POV

My alarm went off at six a. M. The next morning, and with many moans and groans, I finally got up and pulled my lazy butt out of bed. I stretched and yawned, and then I stumbled sleepily into the bathroom and turned the shower on.
I felt very revived after my shower, and I walked back into my bedroom in my towel, and grabbed my blow dryer. I quickly dried my long, chestnut hair, before walking over to my closet and throwing on a pair of ratty jeans and a black Ramones shirt, along with some black and white horizontal striped socks. I then threw on some make-up, before heading downstairs and into the kitchen to get some breakfast. When I entered the kitchen, the first thing I noticed was that my mom, Ally, was standing next to the kitchen sink, still in her pajamas, as she munched on some dry cereal out of the box. "Morning, Mom," I said, walking over to the pantry and grabbing my own box of cereal.
"Morning sweetheart, how was Billie's first day back yesterday?" Mom asked. "I didn't get to talk to you last night."
"It was alright, he was pretty shaky the whole day, but he made it," I replied.
"Good, I'm glad to see that he's somewhat back on his feet," she said.
"I wouldn't say back on his feet," I answered. "Not even close."
"What do you mean?" Mom asked, putting her box of cereal on the counter, and leaning forward.
"I don't know... Because he cried-no, bawled on my shoulder for like, forty-five minutes at least last night, and he really doesn't seem to be getting better... At all," I said quietly.
"Poor baby," Mom said, as I began to tear up. "Hey, now, don't cry, he'll be okay, it'll just take a while."
My mom walked up to me and threw her arms around me. "I can't help it, he's literally, like, wasting away in front of me, and I can't do anything about it," I said, putting my head on Mom's shoulder and hugging her back.
"Oh, honey, that's not true, there are plenty of things you can do for him, plenty of things you've already done for him, you know that," Mom said.
"No... No, that's not true, he wouldn't have done it if I had done something to help him before!" I wailed.
"Emma, you can't blame this on yourself! I mean, do you realize that if you hadn't been in Billie's life for so long, taking care of him and being his rock, his shoulder to cry on, his support system... Hell, the list goes on and on! I mean, without you, he probably would've killed himself a long time ago!" my mom said.
"Oh, whatever, I'm none of those and you know it!" I said, as tears splashed down my face and drenched my mother's shirt.
"But you are, honey," Mom said. "Who's the one who has been suspended from school twice this year because she got in a fight trying to protect Billie Joe? Who is the one that has always busted her butt to make sure that Billie has somewhere to go after school so that he doesn't have to go home and be with his freak stepdad? Who's the one that sat with Billie at the hospital and held his hand so that he wouldn't have to be alone?"
"Me," I replied.
"Exactly. Face it, honey, you're the only stable thing Billie has in his life!" Mom exclaimed.
I pulled away from my mom and said, "Really?"
"Yes, and if you really want to make a difference in Billie's life right now... Then you have to be strong! Hold your head up high and let him know that you're there for him! None of this crying stuff... You have to be strong!" mom said, and I nodded.
"You're right, Mom, thanks," I said.
"Yeah, see," Mom said, wiping my tears away with the back of her hand. "Now go upstairs and dry your eyes, you're gonna be late for school."
I nodded, and turned to go upstairs.

Billie's POV

"Bill, aren't you gonna eat, man?"
I looked up to see Mike and Emma gazing worriedly at me from across the table. "I'm not hungry," I said.
It was lunch time at school, and although I had gotten a lunch from the cafeteria, I hadn't taken one bite of it in the twenty minutes we had been sitting there. I hadn't felt very good all day, something that seemed to occur more often nowadays. Emma began biting her lip, looking at me like she was extremely concerned. "You have to eat, honey," she said gently.
"No, I don't, I'm not hungry," I snapped.
Emma looked slightly hurt, and I instantly felt bad for snapping at her. Emma did so much for me. I sighed, and said, "I'm sorry, I just don't feel very good. I haven't felt good all day."
"What's wrong?" Mike asked.
"I don't know, I just have a really bad headache, and my stomach hurts. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night," I answered.
If the truth be known, I had been up half the night because I was too scared to go to sleep, on account of the reoccurring nightmare I kept having, in which my suicide attempt was replayed over and over until it literally made me sick. I had sat in the corner of my bedroom, hugging my knees, for several hours, until I had finally fallen asleep where I was sitting.
Emma set her jaw, and I could tell she was worried about me. Hell, I was worried about me, so I guess I couldn't blame her. Mike cocked his head to the side and eyed me suspiciously. He was worried, too. "What?" I asked, as they both sat there and stared at me.
"Nothing," Mike and Emma said in unison, but they kept staring at me.
Held under their intense gaze, I began to shake and sweat, because I knew they were waiting for me to tell them what was on my mind. One downfall of being friends with these two for so long was that they always knew when something was going on. "I'm... Uh... I'm gonna go to the bathroom, I'll be back," I said.
Mike and Emma both nodded, and I got up and hurried out of the lunchroom, busting through the double doors and running down the hallway into the bathroom. I walked over to one of the sinks, and gripped the edges of it so hard that my knuckles turned white. I looked into the mirror at my reflection, trying to figure out what my problem was. I turned on one of the faucets and dipped my head under it, sighing as the cool water drenched my feverish head. I then turned the water off and gazed into the mirror once again. "What are you, Billie Joe Armstrong? What have you become?" I said, not even realizing that I had been talking out loud.
"Some crazy fool that's afraid to even go to sleep," I said again, answering my own question.
All of a sudden, I heard a deep chuckle from somewhere behind me, and I turned around to see Teddy Crawford walk out of one of the stalls, a huge smirk plastered on his face. "So the little freak talks to himself when he thinks nobody's around, huh?" Teddy said, as I grimaced and backed into one of the sinks.
Teddy pulled a pocket knife out of one of his pockets and said, "Here, Armstrong, want me to fulfill your wish? You wanted to die, didn't do? You slit your wrists, didn't you? Come on, let me finish you off, we'll make it look like you did it to yourself."
Teddy lunged forward and cornered me between two sinks, as he pushed the knife up against my throat. I swallowed heavily, trying not to panic. "Let me go, Crawford, I never did anything to you," I said, as my eyes started to water.
"Oh, come on, Armstrong, we could have lots of fun, you'll only bleed for a minute, and then you'll be dead. It's what you want, isn't it?" Teddy asked, as he pressed the knife harder into my throat.
All of a sudden, I just snapped. I knew Teddy wouldn't really kill me, but he would definitely hurt me pretty bad if he got the chance, and I wasn't going to take it. I swiftly kicked him in the balls, and pushed him off of me, as his eyes got big, and he fell to the floor, grabbing himself in pain. I then turned and ran out of the bathroom, slamming through the doors so hard that I actually ran into the wall on the other side of the hallway and fell on my ass. I quickly got up, however, and began running down the hall, just as I heard Teddy bellow, "Armstrong!" from the bathroom. I turned around and saw Teddy come flying out of the bathroom and down the hallway. I started running faster, but Teddy quickly caught up with me and tackled me to the cold, hard floor. Teddy began punching me in every spot he could find, as I screamed in pain and fear. I was thinking about just giving up and letting him kill me, but then I decided that if he was going to kill me, the least I could do was go with a fight still in me. I thought of all the times Teddy had tortured me and made me feel like trash, and a sudden rage began coursing through my blood. I let out a howl like a wounded animal and kicked Teddy off of me, rolling over and jumping on top of him. I started punching him over and over in the face, not realizing that a crowd had gathered, and they were all screaming, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"
My knuckles had started to bleed when I finally felt someone's rough arms grab me from behind and start pulling me off of Teddy, still swinging madly. I turned and saw that it was John Edwards, Teddy's best friend. He pushed me against the wall, and made a move as if to hit me, but suddenly, Emma jumped in out of nowhere and landed him a blow to the head so hard that it sent him sprawling on the floor. John was up again in instant, and he went for Emma this time, hitting her in the mouth and knocking her to the floor. Rage welled inside me, and I jumped on John, and we both fell to floor, kicking and screaming in anger. As John and I wrestled around on the floor, Emma and Teddy took turns throwing and dodging punches some three feet to out right, as the kids continued cheering.
Finally, just as I thought I might kill John, I felt firm hands grab my arms and pull me off of him. It was Mike, looking worried but slightly amused. He kept a firm grip on me, as I kicked and shouted, "Let me at him! I'll kill him!"
"Billie, relax," Mike said, as Teddy's girlfriend, Jill, attempted to separate Emma and Teddy.
Emma punched Jill in the face and sent her flying into the wall, as one of the teachers appeared on the scene and grabbed Emma around the waist, pulling her away from Teddy. Suddenly, the principal, Mr. Bosley, appeared on the scene, and everything went quiet, except for the angry shouts of Emma. "You let go of me, or I'll do to you what I did to him!" she shouted, pointing at Teddy, who was now lying unconscious on the floor.
Every inch of Emma's 5'3" frame seemed to be on fire. For such a tiny little thing, she sure could get mad fast. She was kicking her arms and legs wildly, desperately trying to get free of the teacher that was restraining her. Her brown eyes were burning with hate and spite, and her long, brown hair was a tangled mess around her face. As I watched, Emma stuck her tongue out and licked the fast flowing blood from her bleeding lip, looking like she actually enjoyed it. I grinned savagely. That was my Emma, wild as she was.
"What is going on here?!?" Mr. Bosley shouted angrily, and even Emma shut up.
Mike released me, and I stepped forward and said, "Please, sir, it was Teddy and me that started it, Emma and John were just trying to help out."
The principal stepped forward and looked around. "The damage done here looks more to me than just helping out," he said gravely. "This is downright destruction."
Emma's lip curled evilly. "It sure was fun, though," she said.
Mr. Bosley turned to Emma and said, "You, Ms. Rydell, would you come with me to the office? You too Mr. Armstrong, Mr. Edwards. Oh, and somebody please do something for Mr. Crawford. Make sure he isn't dead."
The teacher that was holding Emma released her, and she began following Mr. Bosley down the hallway, taking great care in stepping on Teddy as she passed him. John and I both went with them, as I suddenly became aware of the pain that was running up and down my body from the pounding I had taken.
When we reached the office, Mr. Bosley closed the door and beckoned for us to sit down. I sat down next to Emma, and John sat down in a chair several feet away from us, as he quietly nursed a busted lip and a bloody nose. Mr. Bosley sat down behind his desk and said, "So, what happened?"
When nobody else spoke, I realized that I would have to speak up. I told Mr. Bosley about how Teddy had cornered me in the bathroom, leaving out the details of how I had been talking to myself, of course. I told him how we had then started fighting out in the hallway, and how Emma and John had joined in... Blah, blah, blah.
When I was finished, Mr. Bosley looked at all of us sternly, and said, "I believe all of you have been in trouble for fighting before?"
Emma lowered her head, and I could tell she was about to laugh. "Yes," we all muttered.
"What will it take for me to make you kids see that fighting is not acceptable?" he said.
No one said anything. "I'm going to start with a five day suspension, and the promise that if it happens again, none of you will walk at graduation."
Emma looked up at this. If there was one thing that mattered to her, it was graduation. If everything went the way it was supposed to, Emma would graduate as valedictorians of the Senior class, something that she had worked very hard to do. "All three of you leave, and I will be in contact with your parents. I don't want to see you anywhere near this school for five days, you hear?" Mr. Bosley said.
"Yes, sir," the three of us said, as we got up and left the office.
Emma and I walked down the hallway to our lockers, and began gathering our books and such. Emma smiled at me, and said, "Wow, Billie, I didn't know you still had it in you."
"Neither did I," I said.
"You and me, we make a good team, huh?" she asked.
"Yeah," and as I looked closer at her, said, "You're mouth is bleeding."
"So is yours," Emma said, with a bloody smile, as she licked her lips again.
"Let's get out of here," I said, and Emma nodded in agreement.
"We can go hang out at my house for a while, see if we can't find some band-aids," Emma said, and I grinned.
"Sounds good," I said, and the two of us turned and walked out into the parking lot towards Emma's car.
When we reached Emma's car, I got in on the passenger's side and leaned my head against the cool windowsill as Emma drove the car out of the parking lot. Now that the thrill of the fight had worn off, I was starting to feel sick again, and all I wanted was to curl up and go to sleep. "Are you alright?" Emma asked, placing her hand on my sleeve. "You don't look very good."
"I don't feel good," I said.
"I would imagine you don't. You took quite a beating back there, especially when you felt bad before the fight, huh?" Emma said, and I nodded.
Emma sighed, and said, "Well, we'll get you all fixed up when we get to my house. My mom is a doctor, you know, so I know something about all that junk."
"Okay," I said, as a shiver ran through me. "Oh, and Emma?"
"Yes?" Emma asked.
"I'm sorry about that fight. I wish it wouldn't have involved you, because now I'll blame myself if you don't get to walk at graduation," I said.
"It's okay, I'll walk," Emma said. "They can't keep me from walking at my own graduation."
I gave Emma a weak smile, before leaning my head back on the seat and closing my eyes.
When we got to Emma's house, we both grabbed our bags and got out of the car. Emma led me up to the front door, where she pulled her keys out of her bag and opened the front door. We both went inside and dropped our bags on the floor, before heading into the kitchen. I sat down heavily on a chair, watching sleepily as Emma started running a wash rag under the faucet. She then came over to me and began gently wiping the blood off of my face. At one point while Emma was doing this, her warm hand accidentally brushed mine, and for some reason, goosebumps popped up on my entire body, but I felt warmer inside, as if I had just taken a drink of hot coffee. It was weird, and just when I thought that I was seriously crazy, I saw Emma jump back and begin to hug herself, before shaking her head and walking back over to the sink. I vaguely wondered if she had felt it, too.
"I think you might need stitches above your eye," Emma said, fifteen minutes later, when she had finished 'fixing me up, ' as she put it. "But other than that I think it's mostly bruises."
I nodded and said, "What about you? Are you okay?"
"Me? I'm fine, I just got a busted lip and some bruises," Emma replied.
"Good," I said, and Emma nodded.
She watched me for a few seconds, and when I actually began to doze off right there in the chair, Emma frowned and said, "Come with me, you need to get some rest."
I yawned and stood up, suddenly realizing how bad my head was pounding. Emma put her arm around me and led me up to her room, where she pulled back the blankets on her bed and pushed me onto it. She then covered me with some blankets, and kissed me on the cheek, as I gratefully drifted off to sleep.