My Stepdad, Billie Joe Armstrong (Daughter of Rage and Love)

Kiss the Demons Out of My Dreams

"Hope, for the love of Christ could you hurry it up?" I heard my mom scream loud enough to make me flinch out of my dreams. I sighed and cracked open one eye in order to look at the bedside clock – it glowed 6:45 am in a soft green light. Christ indeed. I burrowed my head back under the blanket and started drifting off to sleep again. If my mom wanted to be a morning owl, she can leave me out of it.

"I said get up already!" my mom yelled too close for my liking, and after my bed covers were rudely torn off, I saw why. She has somehow materialized into my room in a matter of two seconds, and was holding my blanket in her hands, waving it like a surrendering flag.

"Mom! I need like, privacy, and a right to have a personal vacation. I mean come on – give me a break, it's June! School is out and I need to recharge my batteries," I said to her, stretching and almost falling off the bed in the process.

"Honey, it's just for a day! Can you please please please cooperate with me just this once? You don't understand how important this is to me – I need everything perfect when you meet my boyfriend. I mean, first impressions are everything you know," she said this all a tad bit too fast while moving hastily around the room, first to open the curtains and let the sun in (blinding me in the process), then to ruffle through my closet.

Groaning, I got out of bed and crawled to the bathroom. With a sigh, I jumped into the shower and let the warm water cascade over my body, waking me up in the process. All the while, I tried not to dread the impending activities that I will have to suffer through today.

"Hope, are you freaking kidding me!" my mom interrupted my thought process by banging loudly on the bathroom door, making it creak in protest.

"I'm out, I'm out!" I yelled while quickly wrapping a towel around my body, then running out of the bathroom and into my room.

My mom was waiting for me there, and holding out my outfit for the day.

"Mom, I'm 18, not 8, I can choose myself what to wear and what not to," I grumbled.

"No, this is really important, first impressions are everything you know," she said again, and exited the room with a flourish. I rolled my eyes but put the outfit on – it consisted of black shorts and a Green Day t-shirt. Weird, she hates it when I wear band t-shirts.

Throwing the doubts out of my head I went downstairs, following my mom's worried voice through the front door and into the car.

"We're meeting him in Café Bene!" she said in a sing song voice, looking at me with a mixture of happiness, enthusiasm, nervousness and fearfulness.

Pulling out of the driveway, I just looked at her, not sharing her feeling. Instead, I tried to enjoy the warm sun by rolling down the window, sticking my hand out and letting the wind rush over it, the breeze warm and inviting. My mom chattered mindlessly in the background but I didn't pay attention. She was crazy about this new guy, much to my dismay. Never happened before. I mean I never got to meet her previous boyfriends, just brief encounters as they were in the process of either leaving the house, or coming to pick her up for yet another dinner, and I was the unfortunate one to answer the doorbell.

The only information I know about this guy is that his name is Billie Joe, he's been single for some time, he's some kind of a musician that apparently I "adore", and my mom is head over heels in love with him.

"We're here!" my mom practically screamed, making me jump in my seat and look over at her. She was still jittery and on edge.

Turning to me she said sternly, "You better behave because I care about him. Deeply. So be on your best behavior,"

Without waiting for my response, she got out of the car and looked around. Following suit, I got out and straightened my dress. Yawning, I turned to my mom who now resembled a tomato, the same deep and rich shade of red, as she stared down the block. A large smile spread on her face and she rushed over to a random guy, throwing herself at him.

While they embraced, I braced myself and stepped forward.

As mom disengaged from the death grip she had him in and stepped back, the guy stuck out his hand and said to me, "Hi, I'm Billie, it's nice to finally meet you,"