Chapter Text
There are screws loose in his head.
What made Billy do it, kick his ass like that? The thought just keeps rolling around. Maybe he should be angry, Billy is the one that helped knock them loose, but there are, like real things to be mad about. Real things to keep him up at night. He doesn’t want Billy Hargrove to be one of those things. Doesn’t want him to be added to the mess of his mind. Steve doesn’t want Billy Hargrove to become a thing.
~~~~~~~
It’s Wednesday, and the breakup with Nancy is fresh. It feels even fresher then Steve’s messed up, tenderized face. The winter grey morning and wind make it too cold to be waiting outside of his car. Hawkins High’s lot is starting to fill up. He thinks back to last week when he had ideas about his and Nancy’s future, adult ones that he actually thought out. He had told her that he would wait for her, stick around Hawkins and be here while she finished her senior year. Seconds later the blue Camaro had come thundering through with loud music blasting. The ruckus had grabbed everyone’s attention including Steve’s. He’d gotten out of Beamer to get a better look, so had Nancy. There he was, Billy Hargrove, the new kid, making a loud in your face appearance. It feels like Billy is always in his face.
He and Nancy never revisited the conversation about him working for his dad and staying in Hawkins for her…. One cup of spilled punch and it had all turned to bullshit…
Like you love me?
It’s bullshit.
You don’t love me anymore?
It’s bullshit.
Steve can’t seem to bring himself to care about missing two days of school. It doesn’t make him sweat, he has skipped school before. None of his teachers are going to give him shit about it. They don’t expect much from him anyways. That’s not why he is hesitating leaving his car. He’s waiting for Hargrove to show up. While he waits he keeps himself busy by taking one last look at his semifinished, doesn’t want to call it unfinished, English homework. He is about to shove the papers back into his backpack, but the last question answered is staring him in the face. He thinks about Nancy, how she came over the other night and brought him homework for both the days he missed. He really wanted to overlook the awkwardness between them, but it hung in the air, and then settled around them. He meant it, that it was okay, her and Jonathan. Steve can’t make her love him, and she can’t force herself to have feelings for him that she doesn’t have. It hurts like hell. If he can he wants to keep her as a friend, but maybe now isn’t the right time.
Having her over use to make the house feel less empty, with her warm smile, and the way she would say his name, Steve. Yesterday, they sat at his kitchen table together. Nancy had been right there, elbow to elbow with him, but she had felt so far away. Eye still badly swollen, and knuckles bruised enough that it made holding a pencil difficult she had stayed to read him the questions, and then write down his answers in her neat penmanship. She hadn’t been able to help herself from improving the answers he had given. They were still his answers - just better.
He has to think about it, ask himself, if she had loved him, really, ever? In the beginning ... for a little bit, maybe. Not like Jonathan, though. She is in love Byers, he knows that. Her being in love with him isn’t something Steve can fight. He would be an asshole if he tried, and he doesn't want to do that to himself, or Nance.
Steve hears the Camaro before he sees it. Just like when Billy arrived for the first time last week. Shit, has it really only been a week? He thinks it feels like a decade. Figures the lack of restful sleep will do that. He dreams of tunnels, and kids he can’t find, lost in some maze that is endless. Billy has been in his dreams too. In the distance, but there.
The bruises help to hide the bags under his eyes.
The bruises Jonathan gave him last year look like child’s play compared to what Billy did to his face. Before the Byers’ house he would have described the other boy as; an asshole, wild, loud, and rough around the edges. No, - now that he thinks about it, more like all edges. He knowns other kids with similar traits, maybe not so many put together. Tommy is loud and a grade A asshole. He supposes calling Carol rough around the edges is being nice. At first he had thought Billy’s kind of dangerous was like, steal your girlfriend. Not dangerous like, unhinged. Thank god for Max. Max. Maybe he could ask Max about it… Has your brother always been this nuts- this crazy- off balance?
This is probably a stupid move, but it still feels like it’s his best option. Steve has thought it over, he knows avoiding Hargrove isn’t going to get him anywhere, and neither is challenging him to a rematch. First of all, avoiding Billy will make him look weak, and he knows better. The other boy would jump at the first sign of weakness. Second, he is willing to take a beating if it means keeping a gaggle of kids safe, that’s fine, but he’s not going openly invite the psycho to kick his ass again.
He runs a hand through his hair, tries to ignore his reflection in the review mirror as he waits for Billy to turn his car off. Steve wants to make looking Billy in the eyes the first thing he does. Wants the other boy to understand that Steve is not afraid of him, but there is no way in hell he is going to give him the time of day. It’s simple, what he is looking for is silent acknowledgment, and that is it. Period.
The Camaro is three cars down plus an empty parking space. It’s the right amount of distance. Just enough, but not too much. Steve steps out and into the cold morning air. A kid passing by on the grass must have gotten a good look at his face cause he’s pretty sure he hears an, Oh shit. Yeah, he knows what he looks like.
Billy is facing away from him. Steve can see his broad denim clad back over the tops of the cars separating them, blonde curls getting pulled by the cold breeze as he turns. Steve braces for it, wants to get it over. Look Billy in the eyes, show the other boy he is still standing, and move on.
Only - - Billy has a split from the top of his lip to the bottom, a black eye to match Steve’s black eye, and bruises on his jaw, same side as the split lip. Steve, didn’t do - that. There is too much damage there. He got what, three maybe four good punches in, but not good enough to do that. It looks painful. It makes him pause. Can feel the confusion showing on his face. Narrowing blue eyes meet his, Hargrove must be able to see it, the confusion showing on his face. Billy tips his head back slightly and holds Steve’s gaze, taking him in while letting Steve do the same in return. There is a gash across one of his eye brows too. Billy doesn’t shy away from Steve’s stare, he takes a slow drag from the cigarette he has pitched between his fingers making time feel like it grinds to a halt. He has this look in his eyes that’s challenging, a look that says, you don’t know me.
It last all of five seconds before a blonde in a baby pink, puffy winter coat comes up to Hargrove. He slowly drags his cold gaze away from Steve. The girl is all smiles and batted eyelashes. She is flirting with him, openly and all cute, but he still gives Steve a parting glance before walking towards the school with her. Like he is checking to see if the other boy is still watching. Like there was a point to it or something. Steve can’t look away. Blames it on the bruises he didn’t give to Billy Hargrove. And the question, If he didn’t who did?
On account of the concussion Steve has an out from basketball for the rest of the week. There are only a few weeks of practices left, what with two holiday breaks coming up and all. It’s a relief. At the start of freshman year Steve’s parents had insisted on him choosing a sport, it could be his choice, but he had to pick one and stick with it for all four years. Steve didn’t totally hate basketball, and Tommy was trying out for the team too. It had seemed like the right choice. His sophomore year the team had made it to the state finals. In the big game he scored some points by making a couple good shots. It had helped to cement his popularity. So did having an empty house a couple weekends a month. By the summer after his sophomore year his parents were away more often than they were home, and he was being called King Steve.
Coach takes the doctor’s note in strides. Tells him to rest up, and he expects Steve to be ready to hustle on Tuesday. Without practice there’s no reason for him to run into Hargrove. Hargrove - - the split lip - that wasn’t his doing, neither was the cut to his brow. He remembers giving him a bloody nose. If Hargrove had picked a fight with someone else, Nancy would have said something to him about it the other night, right? Rumors of it would sure as hell be running wild through the school. All that’s been circulating is Billy and him got into it. No details outside of that, thank god. No one has anything to go off, just each of their messed up faces. Which also means Billy hasn’t been talking. Hasn’t been bragging about how he laid Steve out.
~~~~~~~
Dinner at the Hargrove residence is; meatloaf, mash potatoes, and cooked carrots. The house is still only half unpacked. All the plates and silverware were the first things to be put away. Billy use to think the one good thing about Susan was she knows how to cook. Most of her meals are edible. Now, he’s reached the conclusion that she is totally useless. She has been avoiding Billy since the other night, won’t look him in the eye. Max has been weird too, has been keeping her head down around him. Doesn't get pissy with him like she usually does. He thought she would be all high and mighty after wielding that fucking nail covered bat. Billy doesn’t think Susan would have said anything to Max about standing there and watching his dad smack him around. Susan hasn’t forgot about the other night, though. She keeps looking nervously at Max, who is reading from a text book while eating her dinner. Dinner is family time, so says his dad. He got chewed out at the dinner table back home, in California, for trying to get a paper done during family time. An hour long lecture served cold. The side of backhand came later when no one else was around to see it.
“Maxine, honey. Why don’t you leave your homework until after dinner.” Billy can heard it, the worry, right at the edge of Susan’s voice. She and Neil have been married for almost three years. Fuck her, though. He knows the other night didn’t come as a total surprise to her. Three years is too long of a time to be so fucking clueless, even for Susan. Probably tried to ease her conscious by telling herself some bullshit about Billy needing guidance or something, and his dad needing to make a point. How was a bad kid like Billy suppose to learn if Neil didn’t beat it in?
“Billy, stop pushing your food around.” Neil is tapping his fork on the edge of his plate. Tap tap, “Your mother is right, Maxine. Go ahead and put your book away.” Tap tap tap. She does it without talking back and not so much as an eye roll. Something is up.
Every dinner is hell on earth. Having to sit there and wait it out. Every minute runs longer than the last. Back in California Billy could drive to LA. Driving fast, with music playing, and the volume cranked up he could make it into the city in an hour. He made the pilgrimage to see Metallica a couples times plus some other bands. It became his thing. His piece of freedom. Then Neil found out about the road trips. Max hadn’t actually meant to give him away, Billy knows that, but it doesn’t change what it cost him.
He has to ask to be excused from the dinner table. Makes sure to thank Susan for the meal and tell her how good it was. Same bullshit every night. Rinse and repeat.
The music stops with a click, play button popping up on his Walkman. Billy stopped listening to the music awhile ago. Has been thinking of Harrington, and locking eyes with him at school this morning. He doesn’t make a move to open up the Walkman and flip over the tape, but also doesn’t take off his headphones. Just keeps laying there, on his back, across his bed. Light from the moon washes in, keeps it from being completely dark.
He doesn’t like girls, not in the way he needs too, not in the way that would lessen any of the hate his dad has for him. He likes everything on guys more than on chicks. Hands are bigger, legs stronger and dusted in hair, shoulders broader. LA is where he finally caved and gave in, did it enough times to know what he wants. What he likes. Billy’s back to thinking about Steve, and how he called him a pretty boy. The things he did in LA, he did them enough to know what he wants to do to Harrington. Billy thinks maybe Harrington is a wound, one he wants to keep picking at. Get his fingertips bloody, then lick them clean when he’s done.
~~~~~~~
Thursday between classes Mary Jensen catches up to Steve. She tells him there’s going to be a small party at her place on Saturday. Carol always says, You need like a dozen people at least, to make it a party. Steve’s not really keeping count as Mary rattles off the names. Thinks it might be a baker’s dozen that’s showing up, and that’s counting him. One of the names is Becky. Becky, who he screwed around with at the start of summer before last. She is dating Nick Adams from the basketball team now. Any hard feelings she might have towards him have probably faded. The others going are a handful of classmates he likes alright. He doesn’t want to go, but he should. He needs to get back to some kind of normal. He tells himself, going would be the right thing to do. He needs to remember how to be a stupid teenager, how to go to stupid parties, and find some fun in it - or something.
Steve would rather see what the kids are up. Check in on them, but Hopper wants everyone to keep up appearances and keep their distance from each others as much as possible for the time being. He bets Hopper is having one hell of a time trying to keep Mike and El away from each other. One chief of police and two lovesick teenagers, one with superpowers and the other a complete little shit. There has to be a punch line somewhere.
How weird would it be for him to drop by Dustin’s house, see how he is doing? Dustin, Lucas, Max, and him never actually set foot in the lab. As far as the group can tell the government doesn’t know about their involvement. He is more than fine with them being clueless about him and the kids. The first go around had been way more than enough. Plus if Max gets dragged in by the government so does Billy. Steve stops himself from over thinking what a mess that would be. He could offer Dustin a ride home after school... maybe giving it a week is a good idea. Just to be on the safe side.
It’s almost eight, Steve is standing in the large open entryway of his house. He doesn’t want to leave, but also can’t stand how empty the house is. He just lingers there, in his own house, feeling out of place in his own skin. If his parents were here he would be counting down the minutes until they left, and as soon as they were gone he would be resenting them for leaving. There are so many reasons why he wants them here at home and then gone, that it makes him feel dizzy. He wishes his parents would stay because they always leave, and wants them gone because he doesn’t think he knows how to be around them anymore. Stay, because monster are real, and go, because they’re both so goddamn stupid. Stupid enough to believe what the men from the government had said about the whole mess. Stupid enough to let him sign page after page of government crisp white paper. He actually hates them a little bit for it too. Their willingness not to ask questions - no - no, that’s playing dumb, and there is a difference. The thought rolls around with the other loose screws. They’d rather play dumb than be inconvenienced by anything, including their own son. He lets his mind think over that a second time then a third. It’s the first time he has connected the dots in that way. It’s what finally pushes him out the door. All the sudden desperate to get out.
Mary’s house is three blocks into Lock Nora. It’s a nice house, has a roomy daylight basement with green shag carpet, a style that was popular ten years ago, and a big back yard. Kids alway sneak out to the far end of of the grassy stretch to smoke a joint in the bushes. As long as the wind is blowing the right way the smoke doesn’t make it back to the house. Steve has always liked the house, has gotten high in the back yard more than a few times. He usually likes other peoples houses more than his own. He likes houses that feel lived in and full, like the Wheelers’ house. By the time he gets to the party most everyone has made their way to the basement. Mary is ordering the last few people to hurry up.
“Come on! Everyone is down stairs already.”
Nick grabs Becky by the hips and helps her down from her seat on the kitchen counter. She giggles all cute, eyes on Steve the entire time. She’s got a big white bow in her teased hair which she adjust while saying hello to him. Steve has this uncomfortable feeling she is trying to flirt with him, which is the last thing he wants. Nick doesn’t seem to notice it, he keeps talking at him about the up coming game against the Reedway Ducks.
“Are you going to be good for the game next weeks, man?” He asks while pointing to Steve’s healing bruises, “It’s important we crush them. Can’t make it to finals if we don’t win. I’m just going to saying it. Alright. We can’t win if you and the new kid are too busy trying to beat the shit out of each other.”
Jesus Christ. Steve wants to say, It wasn’t him who beat the shit out of Hargrove, but he keeps it to himself. Questions he had tried to put away for the night unpack themselves. Head starts rattling with them. Why did Hargrove have to be Max’s step-brother and why did he have to show up that night? Where’d he get those dark bruises on his jaw? Too dark to have come from Steve’s few punches.
He turns to look over his shoulder as he follows Mary down the basement steps, calls up to Nick, “Hey, did the new kid get into it with someone?”
“He got into it with you.”
“Yea- no, I know that, but was there anyone else?”
“No, I don’t think so. I mean, he likes to run his mouth.”
“Yeah, know that too.” Their first practice together Hargrove hadn’t shut up, kept egging him on all while plastered to his back, crowding his space. A solid wall of muscle and never ending commentary.
According to Carol’s standards it’s a party, kids keep showing up. The basement is filling up, volume raising as more conversations start. Steve’s on his second beer, has been taking it slow. There is a junior named Scott sitting to the right of him. Nick is on his other side, taking up a good portion of the couch, ignoring his girlfriend, and boring Steve with some story about summer camp that he is only half following. Can’t seem to get himself to focus on anything.
Becky cuts through the noise of the room with her extra loud laugh, teased hair bouncing as she tosses a look Steve's way. Why can’t Steve want Becky like he had - does want Nancy? He had chased after Becky at the end of Sophomore year. On the last day of school, in math class he had leaned forward over his desk to whisper in her ear, promises of a good time, a fun filled summer. "Come on, make it a great summer, hangout with me. What do you say?" He had smiled at her to seal the deal.
Only turned out it wasn’t, great. He had lost interest in, like, three weeks. Then a couple days before the 4th of July he had seen Laurie and her new red bikini at the Hawkins pool. It was very, Fast Times at Ridgemont High. He let himself get caught up in the idea. After all, wasn’t every guy suppose to be chasing after Phoebe Cates? Always the asshole, Tommy had knocked his sunglasses off his head while taunting him, "You don’t stand a chance is hell, Stevie boy. Not after you boned Becky." Carol had added, "They’re friends, not best friends or anything, but I bet Becky’s already told Laurie how you did her wrong." She had made a mockingly sad frown at him.
He bedded Laurie before the start of the new school year. With the same results. The chase had been fun, but when he got down to it, it left him feeling empty. Not that he ever told Tommy or Carol that. Then the first day of Junior year he had seen Nancy. She didn’t look like a kid anymore, she could hold her own against the Tammys, Beckys and Lauries of Hawkins High. Could do them all one better, she was smart. Maybe the other girls were too, but Nancy didn’t hide it. Different kind of challenge. That’s how it had started. Get the brainy, good girl to hangout with him. Get her to laugh and smile. Get her to say his name sweetly. It had ended with him being in love with her.
He’s an idiot. He knows it.
Like out of a bad dream, and out of nowhere, Tommy and Carol are in the basement joining the party. “Sorry we’re late.” Carol calls out to Mary, sounding more annoyed than sorry. Nine times out of ten Tommy and Carol are late because they were busy having make up sex.
Steve didn’t realize the two of them had been invite to the party. They find an empty spot on the couch across from Steve and make themselves comfortable.
“Billy is on his way but he stopped to get cigarettes first.” Tommy says to the group he and Carol have joined, but looks at Steve while he is saying it. Continues with, “Too bad there’s no keg, then we could have had some real fun.” It’s a dig, Tommy is trying to get a reaction out of him. Obviously not amused with his maturity level either, Carol rolls her eyes. She is probably tired of having to listen to him bitch about Steve.
Steve schools his features, plays it cool, and turns back to Nick. Pretends to know what he has been going on and on about, “Oh yeah, sure.” Steve nods.
Becky chimes in over everyones conversations, “There’s enough of us here to play a game!” That catches the room’s attention.
“How about spin the bottle?” Someone suggests
“Suck and blow!”
She shoots them down “Those are both so seventh grade, no.”
Carol says to the room, “Truth or dare is better.”
Tommy doesn’t skip a beat, starts chanting, “Truth or dare, Truth or dare…” a couple other kids join in.
Fuck. And fuck. Steve has too many truth he’d rather keep to himself, and he saves his stupid reckless moments for the Upside Down. And Billy is on his way. He is the last person Steve wants to have around for a game of truth or dare. He doesn’t want the kid that runs his mouth getting a chance to ask him questions, and his dares would probably be something crazy dangerous. This night is starting to blow….
“Billy, my man!” Tommy’s voice cuts through Steve’s thoughts. He is looking over his shoulder before he can tell himself not to only to Billy’s eyes are on him. The blonde has a smile that is big enough to show all his teeth. He basks in the chorus of greetings as he drops an already opened six pack on the table. Finishes the beer he has in his other hand in three big gulps. Steve watches the muscles in his throat work.
There is a pretty girl trying to make Billy notice the empty spot on the floor next to her, but he’s already pushing Tommy aside on the couch. Putting him facing Steve dead on. Doesn’t say a word to him, and for some reason Steve likes that even less than him running his mouth, guy always has something to say to him. Why so quiet now? Jesus, this night.
Mary announces to the room, that because she is the hostess she get to starts, “Okay Scott, truth or dare…”
Steve needs to get out. This is hell.
They are three truths and one dare in; stealing the answers for a math quiz, trying to bang a hot substitute teacher, showing up hungover to grandma’s funeral, and one phone call to ask a crush out.
Steve’s brain goes rattling around. This is too normal. The outdated basement, that’s currently being occupied by a bunch of high school kids, with nothing better to do on weekend night in early November than play some dumb game. It feels like he is starting to sweat. His truths don’t fit into this kind of normal. Barb’s death, the flower faced monster, the monsters that are the dog version of the flower faced monster, El with her freaky mind powers, and Will Byers' possession, or whatever it was. A year ago He signed like a hundred and fifty fucking pages of government papers. None of that fits here - he doesn’t fit here, doesn’t fit in his own empty house, doesn’t fit with Nancy anymore…
“Alright Steve, truth or dare? Steve… Hey, Steve?”
~~~~~~~
Billy watches as Steve’s head pops up. Watches as he comes back from wherever his thoughts took him. And it must have been pretty far judging by the not here look he has in his eyes. He notes how quickly pretty boy recovers. How quickly he flashes the boy next door smile, and then, “Truth- be told, I got to take a leak.” It’s makes a couple kids laugh. Billy smirks, it’s cleaver enough. Tommy calls out bullshit, but Steve is already standing. He has his jacket on, probably never took it off.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t worry I’ll be back, alright? Don’t do anything crazy while I’m away.” There must not be a bathroom in the basement because Steve is heading towards the stairs and none of the other kids think anything of it.
It’s a lie, the part about coming back, Billy is sure of it. He doesn’t watch the the other boy go, instead he turns to Tommy, and makes his voice loud, drawing the attention of the room,“Tommy, truth or dare?” Makes it a challenge, but also doesn’t give him a chance to answer. Instead he chooses for him. “Dare! Yeah? That’s great!” Pats Tommy on the back, acting like Tommy had made the choice for himself. The freckled waste of space is eating the attention up with a shit eating grin.
“I dare you to strip and run around outside.” He gestures with the cigarette in hand at the back yard. Some of the girls giggle, Carol laughs and pushes at Tommy, as a couple jocks cheer.
Tommy makes a big show of taking a swing from his flask before standing. Next thing everyone is moving, wanting to get a better view of the backyard, no one wants to miss Tommy making an ass out of himself. Billy hangs back. Tommy starts stripping off his preppy hick clothes. Billy waits, when none of the other kids are looking his way he grabs the rest of the six pack. Billy gives it until Tommy marches outside in his underwear before moving to the basement door. As he leaves he thinks about the promise he made Max, about leaving her friends alone. On account of him being drugged up he doesn’t think that promise counts.
Billy’s life feels like a cage that is too small. It was already too small in California, and now in bumfuck nowhere it’s fucking crushing him. Billy knows that he is cracking, can’t seem to control himself. Steve Harrington’s face is proof enough. Leaves a bad taste in his mouth. It taste like a one way ticket. In California there had been ways to get a break; the drives to LA, the shows, and the loud parties. He doesn’t feel like there is an escape here. Nowhere to take his pent up anger, it just keeps rolling back into itself, growing. He’s always on edge.
As soon as they got to Hawkins, Neil had saddled him with Maxine. Made him responsible for her. She is a thirteen year old shitbird, who doesn’t listen, because not listening, never, never costs her a goddamn thing. Doesn’t get her slammed into walls or bruised. Making Billy responsible for Max had been his dad’s way of setting him up for failure. Neil disguised the set up as a lesson in, Respect and Responsibility. Billy had failed, and it had only taken a week.
Last weekend had been the first time his dad had hit him in front of Susan, breaking some unspoken rule that he foolishly had thought was there. He should have known better. Billy remembers looking at his dad and hating him, felt the cage closing in during the whole lecture.
Billy is out the front door and into the cold night before Harrington. The cold is cutting. His worn leather jacket isn’t doing shit against it. He leans back on the garage door. It keeps him just out of sight. Harrington won’t be able to see him right away. Billy likes when the element of surprise works in his favor. He wonders if it is cold enough to snow. Neither him or Max have ever seen snow. She keeps going on about it. Keeps calling it real snow, like fake snow might be a real thing. Something weathermen use to fool people. He is just a few drags in on his cigarette when King Steve steps outside.
“Truth or dare?” Billy says it loud and clear into the cold night. “Fuck, this really is a hick town, isn’t it?” he adds.
Steve turns on his heels quick, eyes as big as saucers. Billy, he just smiles, pushes off the garage, closes the distance. Catching Steve alone, and off guard makes his stomach go warm.
“Fuck, man -” Steve’s breath comes out fast in white puffs. He stands his ground, doesn’t back away as Billy draws closer. “What do you want?” Steve asks. Eyes lingering on Billy’s face. Billy thinks, let him look.
Billy says around the cigarette he’s got between his lips, “Brrr, so cold pretty boy.” There he goes, calling him pretty again. When he’d called him that in the shower at school the other day, it had felt like a fuck up, and now he can’t be bothered to care. Holding up the cardboard beer box with the last few cans of in it while he offers, “Let’s break bread.” And feels satisfied watching Steve’s face go through a series of expressions before landing on annoyance.
“Yeah, that’s a no. No way, never gonna happen.” He holds Billy’s gaze while he says it. Pretty brown, doe eyes lock on his baby blues. There is a question there, in his eyes. Billy sees it before Harrington turns to walk away. Billy lets him go, watching him walk away while letting the feeling of want roll over himself.
The other night his dad also told him nothing about his behavior was okay. Nothing about him will ever be good enough. So, why fight it? He’s known for years, before his mom even left, that deep down something is wrong with him. It’s a thing. It’s the wrong in him that can’t leave Steve alone.
On his first day of school Billy had heard about King Steve, and his waining popularity from Tommy and Carol. By the end of third period he had the whole sordid story, down to every gossipy detail. Richie Rich has money to burn, a fancy car, and the family name. Has everything, and his privilege lets him over look all of it. Too stupid, too spoiled. Is throwing it away for an uptight chick, that’s got him pussy whipped.
It left Billy wanting the crown. Then Billy had seen Steve for the first time, and it made him hate Harrington. Because the boy with the slipping crown makes him feel that deep aching wrong.
Billy parked the Camaro behind Harrington’s over priced hunk of metal. When he arrived and saw the Beamer curbside, he had broken out into a smile and laughed to himself at his luck. It meant Harrington had shown up for the party. He walked the couple block to the house thinking maybe tonight was the night he got to bloody his fingers and lick them clean.
He lets Steve get a couple steps in before he starts following. His steps fall heavy, boots hitting the paved walkway, left, right, left, right…It’s a cloudless night, the light from the moon that much brighter because of it. Right, left, right. Billy cans see how rigid the other boy has gone.
Steve stops in the middle of the street, turns to face him, “Seriously, dude don’t be a dick, stop following me. Okay?”
Billy smiles takes a step closer, enjoying this way too much. Licking his bottom lip his tongue passes over the healing spilt, “I’m not following you.” He says it slow and relaxed. Then he walks past an unmoving Harrington, who looks like he is about to say something more, but decided against it. Billy can feel his eyes on him as he goes. It takes a couple second before he hears Steve’s lighter steps coming from behind. Counting to ten in his head, Billy slows his pace just a bit, and then a bit more. Hears the other boy slow to a stops. He doesn’t turn around to look, even though he wants to, just keeps staring straight ahead while anticipation pumps in his veins. Billy is having too much fun. It’s fucking good getting to mess with Harrington like this.
Their cars are still a full block away. Billy starts walking at a normal stride again, continues down the middle of the road. He waits until he hears Steve’s footsteps pick back up, counts to ten again, then he stops and turns. Smiling while shaking his head in faked disbelief he asks, “Are you following me, Harrington?” Billy watches as the question lands, and as the other boy takes a moment to work something out in that pretty head of his.
“I’m heading to my car. Let me guess, you’re parked down the next block too.”
Billy, digs into the box he is carrying for a can of beer, holds it out to him like a prize. Smooth and charming, like they’re old friends, “Bingo amigo.”
Harrington pauses, then reaches for the can, once he takes hold, and has a grip, Billy gives it a little tug before letting it go. Their eyes lock. He tells the other boy to, relax. Then starts walking again.
A beer being opened at night sounds twice as loud as one being open during the day. The sounds cuts through the air, bouncing off the empty street. Making the night feel extra crisp.
“I’m going to take your crown.” It’s a statement.
“Man, I-it’s - it’s yours. Okay. Take it.” Steve stammers over the words before questioning, “You beat my face in for that - for it?”
Billy corrects him, “I beat your face in because you lied to me.”
Steve shakes his head, “Yeah sure, Hargrove. So you are telling me, if I had been honest you wouldn’t have gone after the kids, after Lucas?” He voice is heavy with disbelief, “Max was convinced you were going to kill us all.”
They're walking side by side now. Billy’s fist goes tight enough around the beer can to almost crush it. “My dad, he doesn’t want her dating.” His voice sounds rough to his own ears. He leaves out, a kid who is black. His dad has slurs for everyone, every kind of person. If his dad finds out about Max and the Sinclair kid, it will land on him. All of it, his fault. His thoughts goes back to getting violently slammed into the book case and hit in front of Susan. His mind keeps telling him, because it happened once it will happen again. Her being there is no longer a boundary. He rolls his shoulders, like he’s trying to roll off the feeling.
They’ve made it to the end of block.
Steve stops at his car, puts the beer can on the roof and leans against the driver’s side door, one hand in the pocket of his rich boy jacket, jangling the car key. “I’ve changed my mind about the crown, there’s a price for it.”
Billy thinks it is a ballsy fucking move.“Oh, is that so?” He mimics Harrington in stance, leans against the Camaro.
“It’s yours, but that means you have to ease up on Max and Lucas. And, I’ll tell them to keep it quiet for awhile, on account for your dad, or whatever.”
“And what do you personally get out of this arrangement?” Because Billy has to know.
“You off my back. And honestly man, I don’t want to deal with two lovesick kids who are being kept apart. Do you?”
Yeah, when it’s put that way Harrington might have a point. He doesn’t need some Romeo and Juliet situation on his hands. Kids always do the things they are told not to do, and Maxine’s got a mind of her own. He doesn’t want to back down, but rock and a hard place. For now he’ll settle, “My dad catches wind of anything going on between them and I’ll be coming for you, Harrington.”
He gives an almost smile back at Billy, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes though. He looks tired.
“One more thing. Just so we’re clear, the crown, Tommy and Carol, they come with it.” Harrington says in a patronizing mock apologizing tone. This time the smile, it reaches his eyes. He knows by now Billy has figured out that the two of them are a waste of space.
Steve runs a hand through his hair. He grabs his beer, takes a sip. The bow of Steve’s upper lip is wide set. It’s that kind of thought that adds fuel to Billy’s fire. All those things he shouldn’t notice. He shouldn’t notice Steve the way he does. The split on his own lips kept opening back up for days. At school he had taken a bite of an apple and it busted right open. Tart and bloody. Billy’s fingers itch to press hard into the soft flesh of Steve’s lips, into that wide bow.
He wants control back, can feel it slipping as the other boy relaxes into their exchange. He thinks about the party and Harrington's far away look. Turning mean has become his default state of being. It usually get him where he needs to be. “Truth or dare, Harrington?” He asks, corner of his mouth pulling up into a sneer.
“Shit man, you don’t know when to quit do you?” The look of annoyance it back. He sets the beer back down.
He pushes a bit more with a voice that is both charming and mean, “That house was covered in drawings. I want you to tell me why.” It’s the right dig can see it in Harrington’s eyes.
“The kid was missing in the woods for days. He likes to - draw. I don’t know, it helps. Like therapy. Okay?” He looks away as he says it.
Another lie. Billy feels the anger in him rising up. “Helps what?” He asks in a sharp tone.
Harrington is searching, reaching for an answer, Billy can feel it. He cuts him off before he can figure out another lie, “See Harrington, from what I heard those drawings were suppose to be for some school project about mapping or some shit. Not zombie boy’s therapeutic needs. Your - ex girlfriend was suppose to take Maxine and the other kids home after their little school project meet up. Only, gosh - darn - it.” he snaps his finger like he is out of luck, and then licks his teeth.“They got a flat tire on a back road, had to wait until help came along.”…
~~~~~~~
Oh, shit!
The cover story. The one Hopper and Mrs. Byers came up with. The one they all agreed to. The one Hopper fed to Max’s mom and Billy’s dad. Jesus, this isn’t his night. He has to get Billy off the subject, right now! Can’t let him poke holes in it. Mind racing, it stumbles over the thought of derailing Billy with a question, try and turn the tables on him. There is the question, the one that has been making noise in his mind for days.
Steve points to his own lip while asking, “Who did that to your face?” The words come out smooth, Billy follows the movement with his eyes. Steve adds the truth “We both know it wasn’t me, man.” Steve feels like he delivered a one-two punch. Judging by the look on Billy’s face he’s not wrong.
“Fuck you, Harrington!” Billy throws his beer can. The sound of it hitting the pavement echo into the night and the smell of spilt beer hits the cold air.
Steve remembers how to do this, be an asshole. The same asshole who ran his mouth at Jonathan that day in the alley is still inside Steve. He can conjure him up. That exchange ended with him getting his ass kicked by Jonathan. He is probably going to get his ass kicked again. Steve pushes ahead caring less and less about the out come, “Who’d you pick a fight with, man? Did you make a mess out of their face like you did mine? Was it worth? Oh wait, I know - I know, maybe someone taught you a les-”
“I didn’t touch him.” Billy’s voice is as sharp as a knife, and sounds like an open wound
He comes closer. Pain. Steve thinks he sees pain in Billy’s eyes. Anger too, so much of it. Feels a knot form in his stomach. This wasn’t the response he was expecting.
“ - - W - What?” He hears the confusion in his own voice.
Billy takes a step and then another. Steve moves with his movement until his back hits the Beamer.
“You don’t fucking know me, Harrington.” Billy says it low and he says it mean.