She

Wait...You're A Girl?!

With a trashcan in one hand and a broom in the other, Mike swept through his apartment. His weary eyes lacked their usual spark he'd had for life. With each step he staggered, his head lolling closer to the shampooed carpet. The droopiness of his eyes and the tinge of red on the tip of his nose stuck out on his otherwise pale face. How many hours had he slept the night before? One? Maybe two? He figured trying to count them would be useless for there was too much to do in such little time.

His eyes drifted over to the couch that Billie Joe and Tre occupied. Tre flashed him a sheepish smile before raising his beer can to his lips. Meanwhile, Billie Joe fiddled with the radio, unable to find a station that he could enjoy without feeling the need to cringe with every song they played. Mike rolled his eyes. What was he going to do with those two? Despite the fact that more than half of the mess was due to their inability to toss a can in the trash, they refuse to lift a helping hand. He's told them countless times about the importance of giving a good first impression. To them, his words went in one ear and out of the other. Why was he still friends with those idiots?

"Well?" Mike barked, catching Billie Joe's attention. Although he knew the answer wasn't going to change, he still asked, "Aren't you going to help?"

The answer was still the same, "This isn't our house."

His grip on the broom tightened. Why? Why? Why was he still friends with them? The coasters he had given them were thrown carelessly to the ground. Rings of waters had already formed on his newly waxed coffee table. Before either of them could protest, Mike snatched away their drinks and emptied them out in the sink to throw them away. The watch on his wrist beeped in alarm. He only had ten more minutes before everything had to be completely ready. Since the apartment was now spotless, save for the two germs lounging on his couch, he hurried to gather his clothes to shower.

"Can you, at least, open the door when she gets here? I gotta go shower," Mike requested, already beginning to unbutton his shirt.

"We'll think about it," Tre chuckled.

Again, why had their friendship lasted so long? With a sigh, he rushed off into his room. Billie Joe watched him go before turning back to the radio. Good music wasn't on the radio anymore. Where was Jimi Hendrix, Aerosmith, or the Sex Pistols when you needed them? Tre stood with a groan to fetch more beers. By the time he sat back down, Billie Joe had given up on the radio. He thanked him quietly for the beer before popping it open.

"So, what'd you think this Alex guy looks like?" Billie Joe asked, taking a swig of his drink.

"Probably Mike," Tre shrugged. "Have you seen him before? I've never even heard Mike talk about anyone other than his mom. Fuckin' wuss."

"Heard the name once long time ago. Never seen him though," Billie Joe recalled. He should know if Mike, his best friend since they were ten, had a cousin named Alex.

"What 'bout this 'first impression' bullshit? You buyin' it?"

"Hell no! Whoever is guy is, he's here for Mike not me. Why the hell should I care what he thinks?"

Tre laughed, clinking their beers together before chugging them down.

The knock came quietly first, then there was silence. Billie Joe and Tre exchanged glances. It came again, this time harder. The straggled sound of the doorbell came afterward, as though the battery was somewhat drained. Tre groaned. Why couldn't Mike be out the shower by then to open the door? They both knew his showers last two minutes, sometimes less. They thumb wrestled over who got the burden of answering the door. It took less than a minute for Tre to practically crush every bone in Billie Joe's finger. He yanked his hand away and accepted his defeat.