Chapter Four: "She's Such A Saint, Ain't She?"

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Hey, hey, hey! So, there had been a few commenters hangin' 'round, readin' this thing and I just wanna tell you guys that EVEN IF YOU GUYS ARE SO FEW, I JUST WANNA HUG YOU AND KISS YOU AND SAY 'THANKS A LOT' FOR COMMENTING AND FANNING AND VOTING THIS STORY!

Here goes chapter four :D, hope ya like it! <3 Oh, and the POV is Lindsey Way's (but, in this story, her surname's still Ballato, since they're still high school and all).

Chapter Four: “She’s Such A Saint, Ain’t She?”

- Lindsey -

It seems as if I just closed my eyes and dropped on my bed after a long day in school when my mom started shaking me awake.

“Lindsey, Lindsey! There’s a guy named Billie on the telephone,” she said gently, although the way she was shaking me was quite the opposite.

Oh, and, Billie? Why’s Billie calling me right now?

“I wonder…” I mutter to myself before approaching the table holding our telephone on the second floor.

“Billie? What’s up?” I said curtly, tugging at the loose braids of my hair.

His voice sounds urgent, “am I allowed to come over today?”

I raise my eyebrow before replying, “but it’s a Thursday, we have school tomorrow. Besides, my parents are here,” my voice lowered on the last phrase, in caution that they might hear downstairs.

“But I really need your help! And you’re the only girl I can talk to about this,” he pleads. “Pleeaase?” he adds for good measure.

I hear the desperation in his voice and call out to the people below, “Mom, dad, Billie Joe Armstrong might come over!”

I wait for chorus replies of “sure’s” and, “alright’s” before turning back to the telephone on my hand, “alright. You can come over.”

“Well, actually,” he says matter-of-factly, “you can go open your front door now.”

-

Billie sat down on my bed after petty arguments with my dad about a boy staying in my bedroom. I argued back with a well-rehearsed, “But your bedroom is right next to mine! You allowed Gerard to sleep over before…so why can’t Billie and I just stay in my bedroom for the meantime?”

And, it worked. Just like the last time Gerard came by.

“So, Billie,” I begin as I sat down on the floor, “what’s so important that you have to be here on a Thursday evening?”

“Gerard gave me this dare…” he pauses and looks at me expectantly. I motion for him to go ahead. “…that I have to be Chelsea Rhone’s boyfriend under the duration of three months. I want to know how to start doing this since…the girls I’ve dated in the past are…well…nothing like her!”

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