Westbound Sign ➵ Billie Joe Armstrong

Hey Trouble

Collin

I woke up with the phone still pressed to my chest.

Or maybe I imagined that part.

It wasn't there when I opened my eyes, just the tangle of my sheets, the faint smell of old fabric softener, and the tiny indent on the pillow where my hand had curled into a fist sometime in the night. No phone. No Billie. Just morning light creeping through the blinds like it didn't give a shit about the emotional whiplash in my ribcage.

For a second, I stared at the ceiling and tried to convince myself I dreamed the whole thing.

Because that would make more sense, wouldn't it? It's easier to believe I imagined his voice crackling through a payphone than to believe he'd actually called. That he'd teased me about my truck. That he'd told me he thinks about me...a lot. That I'D opened that locked door about West Virginia, about Jade, about what Pulling Teeth really meant.

Because if it was real, I'd have to admit something I've been trying not to.

That I think about him too.

More than I should. More than what's smart. More than what someone like me should be allowed to.

I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead and groaned into the quiet. "God, Collin, you're so stupid."

I hated myself for it. For letting my thoughts run wild like this. For memorizing the sound of his laugh like it was mine to keep. For clinging to a payphone conversation like it meant something solid.

He's on tour. He's a mess. I'm a mess. We barely know what we're doing.

But still.

Still.

I crawled out of bed like I was eighty years old, each limb creaking under the weight of overthinking. The tile in the kitchen was cold under my feet, and I grabbed the coffee canister like it could give me answers.

The coffee machine sputtered like it had a problem with me. I stood there staring into the bubbling black swirl, half hoping it would just explode and end my spiraling for good.

Then the front door opened without warning - of course.

"Hey, space cadet," Erin called, dropping her keys in the bowl by the door like she lived here. "You up?"

"No, this is my ghost. You just missed the séance."

She rolled her eyes and kicked off her sandals. "You look like shit."

"Thanks."

"I brought donuts. You're welcome."

She tossed the bag on the counter, but her eyes squinted in that suspicious, calculating way that always meant she knew something was up. I tried to keep my face neutral. Failed immediately.

She swiped the coffee mug from my hand, analyzing the expression on my face.

She pointed. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

Erin blinked. "Collin."

I took a deep breath. "Billie called last night."

Erin nearly dropped her coffee mug. "WHAT."

"He was at a payphone outside a Denny's in Florida."

"I knew that freak would call again," she said, practically vibrating. "What did he say?!"

"A lot of stuff. He was... he was being all flirty and stupid and then he got serious. Said he thinks about me. Like, a lot. And he opened up about that song - Pulling Teeth. And the relationship, and..." I trailed off, suddenly very interested in the countertop. "It was... a lot."