“Are you fucking kidding me.” Billy says, slams his hand on the chain link fence. Makes Heather jump.
Ten minutes before their shift, they’re sharing a smoke out back.
“What?” Heather pushes her sunglasses up to see what exactly he’s pissed off about now. It could be anything. Literally anything.
“Harrington.” Billy says. Bites the name out. His face is going red. “Steve Harrington has chest hair. When the fuck did he start sproutin’ chest hair?”
Steve Harrington is standing at the edge of the pool, flipping some kid off. He does have chest hair and growing a bit of a gut too. Heather looks from him back to Billy and his twitching eye and pink cheeks.
Heather has a radar for these things. It’s why she can tell the Scoops Ahoy girl wasn’t just complimenting the real fun pattern of her blouse and why she can have an actual conversation with Billy Hargrove.
“Maybe he shaved it?” Heather says.
Billy shakes his head, eyes not leaving Steve. He’s not even blinking.
“I had P.E. with him. That bitch doesn’t even trim his pubes.”
Heather purses her lips. She didn’t want to know that. It’ll be fun to find out how drunk she’ll need to get to forget that one.
She sat behind Steve in chemistry and half the time couldn’t see the board because of his hair. Couldn’t even cheat off him since he got worse scores than her.
Billy keeps staring. The clock keeps ticking. Heather still has to change. She plucks the cigarette from Billy’s hand, takes the last drag and stubs it out on the wall.
Billy’s planted himself by the fence and isn’t about to move.
He’s got it bad, Heather thinks. There are worse boys Billy could like, though there aren’t many boys worse than Billy.
“Gonna go say hi or - Billy, you still there?”
“Do you - are you getting anything from him?“ Billy narrows his eyes, glaring at Steve and then at Heather. It would probably be more threatening if he wasn’t blushing this hard. She can see his freckles now. He has a lot of them. She gets why he’s so popular.
He really is pretty for a boy.
Heather looks at Steve again. She’s known him since the sixth grade when her family moved here. He used to be pretty cool. Had a different girl every week it seemed like. Had everyone throwing themselves at him before senior year.
Now he’s flopping around in the pool while a gang of twelve year olds try to drown him.
“Hopeless.” Heather decides on.
Billy nods. “I can work with hopeless.”