"I never thought grocery shopping was so hard." I grunted to myself, dropping the last bag on the kitchen floor before pulling out a stool under the breakfast bar and taking a seat.

Billie looked over at me, as he stood up beside all the bags. "You never went grocery shopping before?"

"Sure- I tagged along with my mom all the time,"

"And did you always add useless things into the cart?"

"What can I say, you don't grow out of some habits,"

He rolled his eyes smiling as he shook his head, pulling another stool out as he joined me sitting beside. "Spoke to your mom recently?"

"Weird thing to ask,"

"Just a conversation starter Mal,"

"Alright... well no, I've not spoken to her since being kicked out,"

"Do you plan on?"

I snorted. "PHA- no way, never again. Now I've got a choice, I'll never contact her. Not unless she's dying, then maybe,"

"You've always been so positive," He sarcastically mumbled.

"Why would you ask that anyway?"

He shrugged, rotating slightly as he placed his elbows on the kitchen side of the breakfast bar. "Y'know I was thinking about yesterday when you mentioned you'd never heard me speak about my family,"

"Uhuh? How come you were thinking about that?"

"I don't know- I guess I just don't think about my family a lot. But once it was mentioned I just... couldn't stop feeling somewhat guilty?"

"Oh?" I began to feel a little guilty on the way I approached this conversation. I guess I didn't realise it'd be a serious one. "I mean... you said you don't speak with your mom and your siblings all have their own lives." I shrugged, avoiding the topic of his dad. "Why would you feel guilty?"

"I don't know. That's the thing I couldn't shake,"

I clicked on to his use of past tense. Staring at him as he sat on the stool. "Couldn't?" I questioned.

"Well... I don't know. I was just thinking a lot about it,"

"That much?"

"Not out loud of course. Just in my mind. So I gave my mom a call-"

"-That's cool, what did you guys talk about?"

He looked at me, I guess the question seemed to of sorta stung cause he cringed. Like you would in pain or embarrassment. "She didn't pick up,"

"Oh,"

The shopping bags were still around on the floor. Needing to be off loaded and everything put away, Billie and I both being useless sat on stools. Gosh this is hard work being mature huh.

I realised Billie looked a tiny bit hurt. Only just barley.

"I'm sure it wasn't on purpose Billie,"

"I don't know," He shrugged it off. Seeming uncaring now. "I give her a call. She calls me back if she wants to. It is what it is,"

"Did you and your mom ever get along?" I only asked the question to understand why Billie would think his mom would purposely not pick up. Once again: I hit a soft spot as he made that same face.

"Not.... not really,"

Oh shit. "Oh... how come?"

"Well. My dad died, so when I started getting into trouble it was my mom who caught the end of it. We never hated each other, but we never really got a long much after that," He shrugged.

I sat there, trying so hard to think of something nice to say. But before I could even offer the sympathy or the company or comfort or anything. He stood up.

"Thats enough of that anyway." He spoke out, picking a grocery bag full of food off the floor.

I looked at him confused. "Huh?"

"Well, I'm not gonna dwell on it,"

"Is there nothing more you wanna say? Just to vent?"

He stared at me confused. Before shaking his head. "Nope. No I'm good,"

"But-" I cut myself off watching Billie move around the kitchen as he began to put things away in empty cupboards.

What could I of really offered this man? My sympathy? My comfort? My advice? My company? My pity? My compassion? My condolence? Look at him. He wanted none of it.

It was the first time Billie had ever really barley opened up to me about himself, and like that in an instant it was gone. Or so he wanted to believe.

"You don't wanna talk about it some more?"

He looked over at me, whilst shoving a box into a top shelf of one of the cupboard. "Do you wanna speak about it some more?"

"What? No- no I just. I thought maybe you might wanted to..." I guess I remembered who I was talking about here. Before realising. "Yeah, alright,"

"How about help?" He smiled, closing the cupboard door. "That'd be handy,"

~

"Tre if you could really keep your hands out of the cupboards that would be real nice." Billie grunted, watching Tre attempt to grab something else out of the same cupboard for the third time.

"What!? I'm hungry," He pulled his hand out, with a sulking face.

"They we only just filled them up this morning. Thanks to you they'll be empty spaces,"

"Are you calling me fat Billie?" Tre gasped. Trying to annoy him some more as he took his seat back on the folded lawn chair we dragged in to the kitchen.

Billies eyes rolled again. "Shut up,"

"How's the new house?" Mike started up a new conversation, looking more at me than Billie.

"Empty?" I replied unsure. "Super spacious and empty,"

"Maybe we should get a dog," Billie suggested.

"Why would you need a dog?" Mike sniggered. A joke on its way out. "You've got Tre,"

Tre leaned over, punching Mike on his shoulder as Mike winced. But that didn't stop his giggling.

"Dogs are hard to look after," I sighed.

Billie shrugged. "So's Tre,"

"I am here guys!"

A phone began to ring. As Mike finally caught his breath and we exchanged looks with each other. Silently asking one another whose phone it was.

Mike checked his pocket, shaking his head. Tre shrugged pointing at his on the side. As I went to check mine, Billie spoke up. "It's mine,"

I looked at him awkwardly as he stared down at the 'mom' contact. Then Tre ruined our tense moments.

"Awww, mommy's calling," He pouted, pushing his bottom lip out in a childish tone.

Billie his looked over at him, before excusing himself out of the room. Then their two eyes were on me.

"What?" I asked confused.

"Was that..." Mike paused. Before realising he was questioning the right thing. "Was that his mom calling?"

Gosh- maybe Billie and his mom really didn't get along then if they're asking this.

"He called her earlier on he mentioned," I shrugged, trying to act it was no big deal. Since- I didn't think it would be? "She hadn't answered. So I guess she's ringing him back now,"

"What did he ring his mom for?" Tre questioned confused.

"Just in general,"

Tre looked at Mike. Both of them pulling their lips together tight. Before Tre mumbled. "Odd,"

And Mike replied with. "A little?"

"I don't get it," I mumbled out. "What's the big deal? Did Billie and his mom not get on that bad? Is she like- bad?"

"I wouldn't say she was bad," Mike shrugged.

"What Mike is trying to say is Billie was the bad one,"

Tre's wonderful wording: putting it flatly for me to understand. I began to sort of understand a little of the situation.

I guess Billie was just carrying shame and guilt on his shoulders. That stuff gets heavy.

"You mean- like a bad kid?"

"He wasn't always bad." Mike carried on. "He was great in elementary,"

"Just...?"

"Gets to high school and we all sort of burn out," He shrugged.

"Unfair to mention his dads death took a tole on his behaviour too," Tre mumbled.

I squinted. I just, I couldn't imagine Billie being so bad it's haunting him even now? "Was Billie really that bad?"

"Drugs, alcohol, weed, bruises, trespassing, fighting, flunking, sleeping around. Am I painting a picture?"

I wasn't sure what I admired more. Tre's tendency to get to the point bluntly, or Mikes idea to approach with politeness. "He was going through a lot," Mike defended.

I nodded. I really did misunderstand all the times Billie said he understood. It's not that I couldn't see him being the way Tre and Mike mentioned, I guess it's more: I never even thought about it.

All it's been is: kinda my behaviour. Weird to hear about how worse his was.

We did in the end move off the subject of Billie on to something more 'nicer'. Mike had mentioned about their plans for the tour, Tre enlightened me with some of his ideas that Mike immediately shut down.

I wasn't sure how long Billies phone call would be or take. Not that I minded. Just, I guess I wanted to speak to him more about- well him.

~

Tre and Mike left around the same time Billies phone call ended. Before I was able to even ask how it went he told me bluntly he was going for a shower. I found the time to lazy over into bed as I waited for him there, thinking about what I might ask him first.

How his phone call went, how he was feeling, how if what I knew from Tre and Mike was all true or if there were points I was missing?

Finally, the door opened as steam hovered out of the bathroom. Billie sighed, ruffing his head with a small towel, having changed in after the shower. Although he really only had red tartan boxers on.

His black hair was a mess. Frizzy and still kinda damp. He looked over at me, half smile. "Sorry about leaving you with Tre and Mike earlier,"

"Why sorry? I like 'em, they're funny," I shrugged.

He placed himself on the corner of the bed, sitting down. Rubbing the towel over his hair again trying to dry it. I sat up in bed, throat itching as I tried to push out my first question.

"How'd-" I cleared my throat. "How'd erm- how'd the phone call go?"

He pulled the towel away. "It was nice I guess,"

"You guess?"

"I guess, there wasn't just much to talk about,"

"But you've not spoken in ages?" I questioned. "Surely you'd have loads to tell?"

"You'd think that,"

The conversation shut itself down, I had a feeling Billie steered it that way.

So I thought of how I'd bring up my next point. "Y'know,"

He looked over at me.

"When you went in. Tre and Mike mentioned a few things,"

"Brilliant,"

"They just kinda said you never seemed to of gotten along with your mom," I shrugged. "That's all,"

"Well they'd be right,"

Conversation shut down again.

I stared at Billie. He wasn't looking at me, he was just staring off at nothing.

"Do you not like talking about your mom Billie Joe?"

He paused, before his eyes looked at me. "It's not that. I just- I don't like talking about me. That's all,"

"Really? Why not?"

"Well- not me as in teenage me. Not that me,"

"Y'know. Tre and Mike did kinda mentioned you were kinda, well in Tre's words not mine: an asshole,"

"Yeah- I was- whose not an asshole as a teen?" He asked defensively.

I tensed. "I wasn't saying anything Billie. You don't need to get so... defensive about it,"

"I'm not defensive. I just don't wanna talk about it. There's nothing to talk about: I had a nice mom and I wasn't nice. That's it. I'm just guilty that's it. That's all, now. Can we stop with this stupid conversation?"

My face scrunched up. I guess I'll say I didn't like the way he was talking. So I eyed him for a moment before shaking my head, laying back down as I attempted to pull the covers over my shoulder. Not getting far since Billie was sat at the bottom. "Just turn the lights off when you get into bed,"

"Mallory I just don't wanna-"

"-Talk about it. Okay, that's why I'm going to sleep,"

"Are you angry at me?"

"I'm tired,"

"But are you angry?"

I wasn't gonna manipulate the guy into telling me his past. I just didn't like the way he snapped. But he was the only one I'd kinda give in for. So I sighed. "No Billie Joe. I love you, okay? Now turn the lights off when you get into bed,"

There was a pause of silence. The room was empty, felt empty. I had this strange sense from even across the room I could feel his guilt. It was thick and burning through my throat. I shouldn't of brought this up.

"Y'know," Billie spoke up after a moment. His voice made me flinch from the quiet. "It's not that I don't not wanna tell you stuff about me,"

I sat up, showing him I was listening as he continued.

"I just don't know how to. It's not that I don't trust you, or that I don't trust me? Or that I don't want you to know the real me. I just: there's a lot of shame in the things I did. I was a pretty arrogant teenager. I promise I'd tell you more If I only just knew how,"

It's bad communication. Some things we can speak about some we can't. I guess it's kinda like maths. Some parts you can do, others seem impossible.

I could speak all day about some things. Others I don't know where to start. Stuttering like a moron. I still don't know sometimes how to tell someone I'm sorry.

"You don't have to tell me your past Billie Joe," I breathed out, smiling. "I don't need to know about past you. I know you now and that's all I care about. You don't have to feel guilty for who you was if it's not the person you are today,"

"I guess that's where I get confused. Sometimes I sorta think I am,"

"I may not know anything about past you. But I love you now,"

Half of his face lifted into a smile before he looked away somewhat bashful. "Thanks Mallory,"

"Now will you come into bed? I'm cold and actually am tired,"