Chapter 17: Makeout Party

Annabel's POV

When a drunk boy has climbed through your window on a Saturday night and has requested, or more like demanded, that you get your grounded ass to some party somewhere with him and most likely his bandmates, one of which is most definitely insane and the other who probably hates your guts for blowing him off... you have to take a second to survey what has just happened.

That's exactly what I was doing as I pulled on a pair of jeans and a black sweater in my bathroom, my heart pounding in my chest at the thought of an intoxicated and strangely emotional Billie Joe Armstrong staggering around my room on the other side of the door. I ran a quick glance over my reflection and was about to leave when I spotted a dark red lipstick Mona must have left by the sink. I hesitated, and met myself halfway by giving my lips a quick swipe and then pulling open the door.

I was slightly surprised to find Billie sprawled out on the ground in the middle of the room. He star-fished his limbs, his hazy and glistening eyes meeting mine as I bent over him.

"This is a nice rug." He garbled, then drew his brow as if the statement had sounded better in his head. I couldn't help but smirk, offering him a hand to pull him up. He took it, and I gave one big tug, far more powerful than necessary it turned out as he shot up like a jack in the box, sending us tumbling onto my bed.

A few vital seconds passed as we both comprehended the situation. His face was practically an inch from mine, a few locks of coal black hair tickling my cheek. I could feel his breath on my lips as we both stared at each other with wide eyes, practically stunned, the weight of his body pinning me underneath him. I waited for the expected surge of fear, the anxiety and torturous blind panic that I had always felt in a position like that, but it didn't come. It never came, in fact it was notably replaced by a strange, warm pressure that had bloomed in my chest and hammering heart, a feeling that was not entirely unpleasant. I watched him, not completely sure what actions he was going to take. 

He just watched me, then drew in a slight breath, his face lowering fractionally to mine. Then and there, one primary thought consumed the chaos in my mind: Is he going to kiss me?

There were a series of frantic ramblings in my head to answer this. What the fuck? Why would he kiss me? Is he just drunk? He must be. Why would he want to kiss me? Shit shit shit...

My heart, which had suffered enough by that point had then proceeded to protest wildly as it did backflips in my ribcage. I felt his body shift, and his image became blurry as his lips hovered a hairsbreadth from mine, my eyes closing by their own accord. I felt the warmth of his mouth, and I knew at that point that it was completely up to him what to do as my entire body and mind had melted. But then he seemed to consider something for a moment, and I felt his arms tense as if conflicted. That brief second of uncertainty was enough for my clouded head to snap back to attention, causing me to blink back to sanity.

"We should go." My voice was a whisper, as he was still so close. Those emerald eyes bore into mine, and I found myself unnerved that I couldn't understand the expression that burned in them. He didn't move, so I put my hands flat on his chest, and with that he moved off of me, looking as if he had just seen a ghost.

I got up and felt the temperature rising in my face, so in attempt to choke down my overwhelming embarrassment I grabbed my backpack and pulled out the box of cigarettes and lighter. I gave a smile, which thankfully he returned after whatever had occurred in him had passed.

"Just in case."

Neither of us dared to make the slightest noise as we edged down onto the roof. He went first, and I just followed where he gripped the branches and tried not to look down. He helped me down from the lowest branch with a pair of steady hands secured on my waist. He kept them there for a moment after I was firm on the ground, as if trying to find something to say before releasing his hold. I felt somehow bolder in the dark night air and concluded the happening of before by wrapping my fingers around the base of his neck to pull his ear down to me.

"We can always smoke on the roof if it's boring."

And that familiar cheshire grin lit up his face before he pulled me to a car and two familiar faces.

"Hey baby!" Tré pulled me into a bear hug as I clambered in the back seat next to him. I giggled and hugged him back, scruffing that ridiculous green hair. 

"Hello boys."

Mike gave me a smile in the review mirror, and I decided to hope that he hadn't been that upset by the whole cancellation. 

"How was your day?"

"Terrible, but it's getting better now."

"I have that effect." Piped in Tré as he blew a puff of marijuana in my face. I coughed and slapped his arm in annoyance. 

"Let's go." Said Billie, and we were off.

The party was already in full swing by the time we rocked up. There were red cups and beer bottles and the occasional teenager littered around the front lawn, and the music was blasting. Out we got, and entered the craziness inside.

We elbowed our way into the kitchen to get a drink, and I made a mental note to watch myself this time. I accepted a beer and sipped at it as I looked around. It was packed. There was a girl crying in the corner, a bunch of couples making out and a seriously wasted guy trying to drink out of an empty bottle of vodka, all in a few feet from me. I felt Mike appear beside me, watching the scenes unfold.

"Teenagers, right?"

I nodded, and he eyed me as I took another swig from the bottle. I felt myself blush at the memory of our first encounter.

"I'll be careful."

He smirked in good humour and raised his eyebrows. I think he asked me if I wanted to dance, but I said that I might go try to find Mona. His face deflated and I couldn't help but feel another twinge of guilt for blowing him off a second time. 

"I'm sorry I really don't dance, sober that is."

He laughed and said he'd catch up with me later on before disappearing into the throng.

In the end I didn't go looking for Mona, but I was not on my lonesome for the night. After about 10 minutes silently contemplating many themes (that had a common thread of Billie Joe Armstrong) I saw someone known as Tré Cool come bounding towards me.

"ANNA BANANA!"

He hugged me again but quite more forcefully this time, and I had to squeak out a "Tré" when I realised how damn strong the kid really was.

"Sorry." He slurred and released me.

"How's it going?"

"Gooood." His blue eyes were electric with energy. 

"Enjoying the party?"

"Yeahhh."

"How many drinks have you had?" I had to laugh when he thought about it, and then shrugged, megawatt grin still in place. Then, suddenly:

"Billie likes you." 

That startled me out of my stupor.

"Oh?" I tried to act nonchalant, even when I knew Tré probably had pulled apart that guise immediately.

"Yeah. It's a bit weird for him. Usually he only has sex with girls. But he likes you and he hasn't had sex with you. It's weird. And he gets all weird around you. Weird."

"Weird." I echoed, and watched him stumble off back into the crowd.

I stayed in my little spot for most of the night, perched on the counter with a new beer every once and a while. I was reaching a certain buzz at that point, not quite tipsy but intoxicated enough to have that nice haze cloud my senses. 

It must have been nearly midnight when I felt a hand enclose around my wrist, sending me flying into a tall figure. 

"Hello pretty baby, haven't seen you around before."

 I heard a sickly, obviously drunk voice coo in my ear. I squirmed in his grasp, refusing to let myself panic.

"I don't know you. Please let go."

"Aww no baby don't be like that."

I felt a wet pressure just below my ear and recoiled at his mouth pressing into my neck. Anxiety rose in my throat quick and fast as I brought a knee up, about to kick where I knew he'd feel it when I was tugged out of his grasp.

"Hey! What the fuck?" The guy spat, then froze on the person who's calloused fingers were locked like a vice around my arm. He seemed to take a step back, something like worry breaking through the veil of alcohol and lust.

"Sorry man, I didn't know she was with you."

Billie said nothing, only stared at him. I was too startled to even look at his face, but it must have been ugly because the guy then slipped quickly into the mass. He stood there for a moment, then turned sharply, his grip still on my arm, pulling me towards the front door with him.

We burst out of the house and onto the street, the sound of voices and music flooding the air around us. 

"Billie, Billie let go you're hurting." 

His hand left immediately and he stopped. We both took each other in through the night, the lights of the party illuminating his face. It was set hard and I could tell he had sobered significantly since our last encounter.

"Thank you.' I breathed, unwilling to meet his eye all of a sudden.

"Are you ok?" He asked, his tone trembling with something like rage, but his eyes soft. Once I realised that this anger was not directed at me, I relaxed.

"Yeah, I'm ok."

He searched my face, then nodded slightly as if confirming this to himself. Then he set off to the car. I had to scamper after him, confused. 

"Where are you going?" 

"We're blowing this joint." He opened the passenger door, and then looked back at me. His expression had cemented itself into something unreadable.

"Get in."

A/N Thanks for reading!