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Billie is sitting in math class, paying attention to the lesson—or trying to, his friend Tre is attempting to start up a conversation with him. Tre huffs out a breath, giving up and then turning to Billie.
The teacher, Mr. Branson, stops speaking when he turns around. His eyes land on a student whose head is buried in his arms on his desk, Billie moves his gaze towards the student. Mr. Bronson clears his throat. “Michael,” the kid’s head lifts to look at the front of the classroom. “Pay attention.”
The kid, Michael, simply rolls his eyes and lets his hands rest in his lap and slouches in his chair. A small group of girls that sit near the back of the room giggle quietly and share hushed whispers with one another. With the new angle of Michael, Billie is able to get a better look at him. His hair is overgrown to what it looks like it should usually be trimmed to. His dyed blonde that pokes through the hole of his backwards hat, his eyebrows look thick and his lashes long. Michael’s mouth is formed into a pretty scowl as his eyelids flutter down to look at the paper on his desk. Billie thinks that he would look even prettier if he smiled. If Billie were to get a closer look, he could verify if there’s any freckles spread over his cheeks or not.
Mr. Branson has continued on with the lesson, keeping a close eye on Michael as he does so. Billie still has his gaze trained on Michael, that is until Tre elbows him in his left arm. His eyes snap over to Tre in an instant, glaring at him with flushed cheeks as his friend grins at him smugly. Tre giggles then turns back to the front.
Michael looks at them from the corner of his eye, Billie sees it.
—
Later in the day, Billie is in the library studying—staring blankly at a book while considering whether or not he should ditch the rest of the day. Other than Tre, who is currently missing in action, Billie has little to no motivation to stay at school. For anything other than his weed side-hustle or band class.
Tre saunters in a few minutes later. Billie’s eyes snap up to his friend when he drops his bag rather loudly on the floor. He pulls out a chair across from him and grabs a random book from his backpack.
Billie knows that he’s not actually reading his book or looking through his notes, just staring at them, pretending to be busy. Tre starts looking around out of boredom. He spots someone and then kicks Billie’s leg under the table.
The brunette huffs then looks up at his friend with raised eyebrows. “What?” Tre only tilts his head to the right with wide eyes. Billie moves his line of sight to that general direction, his brows furrow.
“Isn’t that your man-crush,” Tre asks quietly with a teasing undertone to her voice.
Billie sputters, surprised. “What?”
“Those girls in the back paired with your uncharacteristic silence made me suspicious,” Tre continues, completely ignoring Billie’s rhetorical question. “I noticed that you couldn’t keep your eyes off him after Mr. Branson called on the guy,” Tre says with a confident smirk.
“I— Who?” Billie knows damn well who Tre is talking about, he just needs to restrain himself from looking around desperately and then staring.
Tre rolls his eyes and points right at the man in question, “Mike… Don’t tell me you didn’t notice when he joined our class?” He’s quick to slap his friend’s hand down to prevent drawing any attention to them, especially the eyes of Michael… Mike. Oh. Tre scoffs and drops his hand dramatically on the table, producing a loud slap. “You really are high out of your mind everyday,” he mumbles, as if he isn’t in the same boat as him on that.
Billie glares at him then reluctantly moves his eyes to lock his gaze on Mike; he looks just as beautiful as before, hat sitting next to him and hand threaded through his hair. He’s sitting a few tables away, what Billie presumes is homework is spread out over the table, but Mike is doodling in a notebook off to the side of it. A faint grin slowly makes its way across his lips, watching Mike’s eyebrows furrow when he makes a mistake, his apparent frustration when he’s erasing.
He blatantly stares at the boy in fascination. Thoughts that he manages to come across eventually wander away. Billie finds himself being stuck on what Mike could be drawing. If it’s a certain person, a movie, maybe, but he comes to the conclusion that he’s probably focused on his art. At least that’s what common sense tells him.
Tre kicks him again after who knows how long of silent heart eyes across a mostly empty library, it’s a wonder how Mike doesn’t notice Billie. He jerks his leg back at him harshly as he turns his head to look at Tre again. “I’ll bet you a whole joint you won’t talk to him before the end of the week.”
“Shut up,” Billie whines, clearly embarrassed and dismissing the topic of this new person. Tre rolls his eyes but relents for the time being. He steals glances at Mike every now and then for the rest of their ‘study session.’
—
Later, Billie is sitting at his desk and picking at a loose thread hanging from his English binder. He sighs and stretches out his legs, letting his head fall back so he’s looking at the ceiling. There’s not much to do. Everyone around him is working on their essay’s. He finished his the day before. It probably won’t get a good grade, seeing as English is right after lunch and therefore he was absolutely not in the correct headspace.
Tre lazes sits next to him after a few more minutes of boredom. Late like always. Billie lifts his head to acknowledge him.
“You should start showing up to class on time,” he suggests oh so helpfully. As if Billie has ever shown up for an entire week of school.
“Shut the fuck up, you hypocrite. I was doing something,” Tre insults and supplies him vaguely.
“Yeah, smoking in the teacher’s parking lot, again,” Billie replies with a sarcastic tone and a pinch to his eyebrows. “At least I make the effort to go to the park across the street.”
A kid in front and to the right of them stifles a laugh. Tre and Billie both glance at him, then by the time Billie looks back at his friend he's being flipped off with a complimentary glare. He sticks his tongue out in retaliation as if he’s back in kindergarten. Then Billie is being threatened to be stabbed by a dull pencil, but the weapon is quickly forgotten when that stifled laugh turns to a quiet giggle.
Both boys turn away from their hissy fight to peer at whoever is witnessing their immaturity. Low and behold, it’s Mike. Billie hadn’t recognized him the first time, as the hood of his sweater is pulled up. Mike’s eyes are switching between him and Tre, amusement painted over his features. The corners of Mike’s mouth are tugged up into a small, hardly-there grin. Billie thinks it’s absolutely perfect.
The teacher clears her throat from her desk, shooting a particular look at the three of them. Mike rolls his eyes and turns back to his essay sheet that looks quite blank. With a slack jaw and blank stare, Billie cannot believe that Mike has been sitting so close to him and he never realized. Tre scoffs at the interaction and projects his attention back to Billie, his pencil now sitting on his desk innocently. He raises a brow at the brunette and shoves his shoulder lightly.
“Huh?”
“I can’t believe you’re still so awe-struck over this,” Tre says to him with an over-it expression. “He just transferred here at the beginning of the year, yeah, but he’s got a great reputation in our band class.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know,” he replies, feeling dazed.
“Mhm. I really don’t think you do,” Tre says with a bored look on his face as he pulls out his bare essay paper. That determination fades into a begrudging frown.
Billie stares at him. “I’m gonna start putting out my joints on your guitar.” Another short, cut off laugh comes from Mike. Billie looks down at his desk with a smile.
—
The next day, Billie sits in his assigned seat in math again. Tre shows up looking ruffled and what other people would consider less-than-presentable. He plops down into his seat next to Billie and is quick to strike up a conversation with his friend.
“So, you know your little crush?” Tre is straight to the point with it.
Billie’s cheeks flush. “Um. Who?” he asks, caught off guard.
“You know,” he sends a pointed look over to a specific person who Billie chooses not to look at this time. “Michael.”
“…Yeah?”
“Yeah. I think John is friends with him, or something like that.” Now Billie turns to have his eyes blessed by the beauty of Mike. What he sees is not exactly what he expected. The boy in question is conversing with a brunette girl with long hair that hadn’t been there the day before, or maybe she had been, Billie wasn’t looking at her. His eyebrows furrow at the scene in front of him.
Tre chooses to disregard Billie’s internal dilemma completely as descends into an unhelpful tangent. “I have band class with him and John, they sit next to each other with the assigned seating. My table-buddy is some girl I can’t remember the name of. Whatever. She’s pretty, I guess. Has long hair and wears form-fitting stuff.” He gets sidetracked quite easily; Billie tunes out Tre’s seemingly endless rambling to focus on what he actually cares about.
He’s about to question who the girl next to Mike is, then class starts, but that doesn’t stop the conversations happening around him. It also doesn’t stop the buzz of Tre’s voice from beside him, more talking to himself at this point. Billie sure as hell doesn’t care about what his friend is saying.
Mr. Branson sighs, completely done with the class. Too bad it’s the first block of the day. He hands out some review sheets then sits back at his desk to do what grading he has. With the basically free will of doing whatever for this class, Billie decidedly puts the math work to the side for now. For now as in for him to never do.
“Dude,” Billie cuts Tre off, he had somehow made it to talking about his cousins coming over for the holidays. “Tre. Who’s that with Mike?”
All he’s met with is an unhelpful shrug. “I don’t know.” There’s an awkward pause as they all look at each other.
“Yesterday you were you were a fucking journal about this guy!”
“I’ve never actually spoken to him, man. I don’t know what to tell you. I mean, you’re really the one person who doesn’t give a shit about what other people think. Not sure why you haven’t just… talked to him,” Tre says while he digs through his bag for a stray pencil.
“Shit, Tre. I don't even have an answer. My head is killing me, and my mom is forcing me to attend class for at least four days this week.” Billie groans out. “This much commitment is so fucking draining. It’s taking a toll on my social status.”
His friend leans back in his chair until it’s creaking under his weight. “Sure. You have to go around and collect signatures from your teachers to ensure that you were present in class. That is literally all you are required to do. How in the hell is this affecting your ability to be stupid?”
Billie does not dignify Tre with a response. It’s entirely true that he just puts his head down or zones out for the entire class. But then there’s the part where he occasionally has to look like he’s doing his work. So tiring.
Tre laughs and makes the effort to put a comforting hand on Billie’s arm. “You’re so lazy, dude. If laying around and getting high all day were a job, you’d have been a millionaire at fourteen.”
“So fucking what? You do basically everything with me. You know how I get when I’m forced to be around these jerkoff cliques all day,” Billie scoffs and twists in his seat with his arms crossed.
His friend sighs next to him. “I do know how you get. You do know that I’m only here because if I weren’t, I’d be locked up in my room jacking off to nothing, right?” Tre’s lack of a decency-censor never ceases to amaze Billie.
That manages to make Billie crack a grin. A shame, since he enjoys being a pain in the ass.
“You’re a real douchebag, you know that, right? Over there making me feel bad somehow with your pathetic ways of passing time,” Billie scoffs and shifts his torso to face Tre again.
“I mean, what kind of friend would I be? Also, you don’t get to say that when it’s exactly the same thing you do.”
Silence settles between the two. Instead, they deliberately do not do the math sheets they were handed, and draw vulgar images on each other’s papers. When Billie glances up at Mr. Branson's desk, the man looks too tired to care that two of his students are progressing towards a violent arm-wrestling match. Billie is very much feeling the same way, and looks as hungover as his teacher does.
A few minutes later, while Billie is tucking his aching arm into his chest, Tre speaks. “I can just get John to set you two up.”
Billie gasps. “What the hell? No! He might not even be into guys!” he whispers while looking around. “I do not want to ruin my chances by asking through a chain if he likes taking it from the back, Tre.”
His friend chooses to ignore him, as per usual. “No, I think I’ll tell John about your crush. God fucking knows he’ll get one hell of a kick out of it.”
“Please, just shut the fuck up,” Billie begs while his face goes hot with an embarrassing blush. He covers his face with his hands in hopes of disappearing off of the face of the earth entirely.
“Or what? Will Mikey hear me?” Tre teases him, finally letting up his annoying antics to just enjoy Billie’s defeated expression.
“Yes!” he lets out more with his eyes than his words. Tre continues to snicker and nudges Billie’s shoulder.
When Billie is finally able to bring his hands away from his face, the first thing he does is glance over at Mike to make sure he never heard anything. It’s hard to tell, his head is buried in his arms with the brunette girl rubbing his back with an excited smile that lights up her entire face. He glares at her unknowingly.
“That’s his sister, Billie. You don’t need to be worried about her,” Tre ridicules him.
“I thought you didn’t know her?” he snaps out, mockingly.
“Mike and Myla have the same last name, Bills. When you originally asked, the only thing I gave a shit about at the time was going home and crashing for thirteen hours straight,” his friend
responds, starting to sound uninterested in the topic.
“Oh,” Billie sighs, suddenly feeling a lash of guilt and humiliation.
“Yeah, the only people you may need to be cautious of are whatever girls find a stoner to be their dream-guy.”
Billie only nods in return. He finishes his work with a scowl.
—
Billie spends the next couple of days studying Mike, still avoiding doing his work as usual, of course. He watches him subtly where he can, which is only two classes, unfortunately. Tre gives him details on what he sees during band class. He doesn’t request for the updates, but Billie still doesn’t attempt to get Tre to stop.
“The girl I sit next to either does not stop talking or finds my presence to be the most fucking infuriating thing she’s ever experienced. Anyway, it’s not like I can hear what they’re saying. That, and John is actually a laid-back guy that in an irritating way that means he doesn’t remember shit from any conversation they’ve had. A fancy way of saying he’s way fucking baked everyday.” They're sitting at a table during lunch.
Billie kicks Tre’s leg. “Why are we even sitting in the cafeteria? That, and I’m here because you told me to. It’s Friday! My prison sentence is over, and I was genuinely having a euphoric episode over it before you called last night.”
Tre is playing with a lighter in his hand. He’s been threatening Billie’s life with his carelessness as he waves it around while talking. “Hey, I’ll get to that part in a minute! Don’t get your panties in a twist or whatever. After this you can fuck off for the rest of the day and hide down at Gilman or something.”
“Well, get to it! I do appreciate that you’re involved in this tiny crush I have on Mike, but this is the same rundown I get every single time,” Billie says with an eyebrow raised.
“We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you would snap out of that internal distress you’re going through!” Tre complains exasperatedly. “I’ve seen you talk up girls while wearing the most outrageous clothes, guys when we fill in for drop outs at shows. Why is Mike any different?”
Billie allows for a pause between answering his best friend and collecting his thoughts. “Your point?”
Tre is cut off from his build up to answer. Extremely thankful, as he looks rightfully pissed off, Billie watches John lean down to whisper something in Tre’s ear. It’s over a second later. Their friend is walking away, but not leaving without sending a sly wink Billie’s way.
“What the hell was that about?” Billie asks. Tre seems much more at ease now, and shrugs.
“Mentioned something that he brought up after band yesterday. Completely forgot, that’s all.”
Billie brings his attention to the general direction, he squints before spotting John sitting with his girlfriend. He’s sitting across from her, having a smiley conversation. Then someone else comes along to sit with them, Billie can’t see who it is, they’re facing away from their table. John points over at them, seemingly sending the person away. The person turns around slowly on their heels. Billie sits up straighter and looks away when he sees his face.
“What’s wrong, Bill?” Tre asks him innocently, sounding wholly smug. That son of a bitch.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” he utters out.
A tray with minimal food suddenly is being set next to him, then someone sits on the bench. It’s awkwardly silent for a few long moments. “John and his girl told me to sit with you guys because they’re having a couples lunch... Even though they’re sitting in the school cafeteria.” Mike says, mostly under his breath.
Much to Billie’s dismay, Tre does not take initiative when his friend doesn’t say anything in return. “What’s your name?” Mike queries, pointedly at Billie since Tre has most likely spoken to him. “I know that you tend to hang out with John, he talks about you a lot,” Mike voices as he pushes the food around his tray.
Eventually, he finds the courage to answer. He hates that this is so difficult for him. “I’m Billie Joe, but I guess everyone calls me Billie. That’s Billie with an -ie,” he remarks with restrained eye contact.
“Hm.” Mike nods. “Nice to meet you, I’ve seen you and Tre in math and then in English as well,” he mentions.
“Wow, Billie must feel so lucky to be in two of your classes,” Tre speaks, waggling his eyebrows at Billie.
Mike sighs with a shrug. “I don’t really do anything, sometimes I think that Mr. Branson has it out for me. Like, other people are talking and he calls on me because I’m looking at my desk and not him,” he rambles on. “I have heard some… interesting things said by you guys.” Billie almost immediately snaps his attention to Mike.
“Really? Like what?” Tre inquiries him, already knowing what he may have heard.
“Well, there’s been some talk about a—” Mike pauses to turn his head to Billie. “About a… crush, I’ll say,” he finishes with a newfound flush forming over his cheeks.
Tre presses on, “And… who exactly were those in question?”
“Um.” Mike’s flush spreads downwards and upwards, rushing down his neck and rising to the tips of his ears. “Billie and— and me,” he mumbles the last part and casts his gaze down at his now empty lunch tray.
“Dude—” Billie sighs, equally as embarrassed as Mike seems. “Did you really have to do that?”
“As amusing as it was to watch you stare Mike down and pretend not to care about me giving you intel on band class, which I have zip of, it would be amazing if you guys would just talk to each other,” Tre concludes.
“Oh, hey, that’s what all of the intense staring is about? Until John told me to sit with you guys, I honestly thought you fucking despised me,” Mike revealed. “I was about to shit my pants when you didn’t say anything back when I sat down.”
“Sorry, man. My duties as best friend are taken seriously even when they are not appreciated and taken for granted.”
“Awe. You’re so sweet, Tre. If Billie would have just spoken to me, though, it would’ve saved the hassle,” Mike teases him with a cheeky grin.
Billie is pretty sure he’s about to die of either embarrassment or whatever the hell Mike is making him feel. He decides that he likes the way Mike conducts his heartbeat when he talks to him.
“Yeah.”
—
In English they have a substitute teacher who just plays a movie and lets them do whatever. So, Tre lets Mike take his spot for the class. At first it’s a silent acknowledgement as the taller boy sits in the chair next to him and scoots it closed. Then they get into a hushed conversation.
“So,” Mike starts, drawing Billie’s attention away from the movie. “When did you decide that you like me?”
“When Mr. Branson called on you in math last week,” Billie replies with a steady heat spreading over his cheeks.
“Oh. I think I’ve known since about,” he stops to think. “Tuesday morning. Known about you having a crush on me, that is,” he clarifies.
“Do you reciprocate those feelings? You never really gave an answer during lunch,” Billie asks hopefully.
Mike stares at him blankly. Billie has absolutely no idea what he’s thinking, a panic starts to grow in his stomach. “It’s alright if—” he’s cut off.
“You can find out on Monday, how about that?” Mike offers with his closed-off, reserved smile.
“Sure. Okay, yeah,” Billie agrees nervously. He has to wait two whole fucking days until he gets his answer. Never in his life has he wished for the weekend to not exist.
They sit and watch the movie. Billie doesn’t know how many minutes pass before he talks again. “If you’re in a band class, what instrument do you play?” Unless he’s taking the course for the credits, which Billie prays in not the case. He doesn’t think so, if Tre said he has a positive reputation in said class.
He gets a shrug in return, silence. Billie chews on his lip while he waits for an answer that he’s dreading for no reason. “I play guitar,” Mike mutters eventually. “But I think I enjoy bass more. Nice, strong fingers that can stretch across the fretboard, right?”
Oh.
—
His mother had been genuinely worried for her youngest son’s health when he was ready to go to school on Monday morning. Hell, she’d been given whiplash when Billie had gone on Friday.
First block, math, could not have come any slower than it did. His fault for waking up before the sun decided to say hello, he guesses.
Billie is the first one in the room, for once. Mr. Branson sends him an odd look when he enters the room. Students slowly trickle in. Mike enters among a small crowd, and Tre ten minutes after the bell.
“You owe me a perfectly rolled, symmetrical joint, by the way,” Billie whispers after his friend sits down. Tre rolls his eyes and eventually nods.
In the middle of class, a small folded square of paper is thrown onto Billie’s desk from somewhere in front of him. He looks at it, confused. He opens it over his lap behind his desk, so then Mr. Branson won’t see it and think that they’re passing notes.
He reads over the note multiple times in astonishment.
do u wanna go out w/ me?
yes
no
(circle one)
-M
A wide smile dances over his lips and pushes his cheeks up until they hurt. Billie quickly snatches his pencil off of his desk and hurriedly circles yes. At the end of class, Billie drops the folded paper back onto Mike’s desk. He spends the rest of his day with a pep in his step.