CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

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The night is cold and I tug the sweatshirt tighter around me. There's a dull ache in my arm and the only way to contain it is to keep the arm as still as possible so there will be no running around. But it's not too long of a walk. I look up at the street sign as I take a left. Cherry road. His precious car is parked on the street. Sigh. How convenient it would be to have a car.

The grass is almost crispy beneath my boots when I enter the property and walk slowly around the house. It would be a disaster if I were to knock on the wrong window and wake up his parents. Are they even at home? My parents are rarely home. How many people even live in this house. Do Max and Billy have additional siblings that they don't talk about? What about a dog that will start barking if it sees me. No I feel like it would be known. The first window holds sheer white and yellow curtains. Most likely Max's. The next few have dark green curtains. It must be his. I reach up and tap gently on the glass then pull back and await. Commotion can be heard from the room. Someone rolling over in bed. A light switches on. Then feet padding against wood floor. A bit of creaking. I make myself ready to flee in case it turns out to not be Billy's room. The curtain is swept aside and a head of messy curls appear. I sigh in relief. He looks at me in confusion, and irritation but I've learnt to assume that's just how he looks. He reaches for a latch and pushes the window open.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He barely opens his mouth as he talks. His voice is hoarse and sluggish, obviously newly awakened. "Are you wanted? I'm not offering refuge."

I shake my head no. "I never was wanted, it was just a misunderstanding." I lay my hands on the window sill. Shit this is high up. Billy leans out and grabs my armpits.

"Watch out for the stereo," he grunts as he lifts me in through the window. I keep my feet up as he steps backwards and lets me down. I blink a few times in surprise of how easily he just did that. We're around the same height. I shake my head and collect my thoughts. I'm not here to drool. Not that I ever would do anything like that. Stupid.

In the dim light from his bedside lamp I make out dark shadows on his face. I gently grab his chin and tilt his face in different directions to inspect it. He's got bruises and small cuts around his temples, jaw and nose. There's a hint of swelling around his eyes and I almost believe it is from crying, but the thought is too bizarre. I can't imagine this boy crying. Even though I know everyone cries. I just can't picture what it would look like. His injuries are worse than Steve's.

"I guess it wasn't as one sided as I was told," I say. He jerks his head out of my hand and turns it away. He points towards my cast. I notice his busted knuckles.

"What happened to your arm?" He mumbles absently.

He is trying to change the subject. Not so easy Hargrove. His injuries might be worse but he still instigated the fight.

"You could have killed him, Billy." My barely audible voice cracks as I realise how afraid of that possibility I am. His eyes harden. The look of betrayal. Perhaps Billy wouldn't have had anything to do with it, but there was a huge chance that I lost important people during the last days. I'm projecting because it's easy to aim at him.

"Do you really think that low of me?"

I don't. I stick my chin out. I feel my eyes gloss over.

"Yes."

He takes a step closer. I want him to blow up. It will make me feel better.

"Then why did you come here?"

I glare at him. My instinct is to tell him it is about the fight between him and Steve but he knows it's total bullshit. It doesn't explain why I came to his house in the middle of the night and woke him up. So I don't know what to say. Which is a first. I clench my jaw as I search for an answer. He stares me down. It's irritating. I do what I usually do whenever I can't think of anything else. It's stupid and immature but I do it anyway. I shove him. He takes a step backwards simply from the surprise, he would be a stone wall for me to tear down. He regains his composure and steps forward. I involuntarily cower. He stops. I don't know why I came here. I'm in no shape to fight. My body is drained and needs a long time to heal. Billy's gaze flicker across my face and down to my cast.

"Are you in pain?" He asks.

"No! I'm angry at you!" It's a struggle to keep the volume down. I am frustrated enough to send items flying into the walls. I throw myself at him again and this time he anticipates it and catches me. I try to shove him but he holds me tightly. He is strong and I'm in a weak state. I feel his heartbeat against the palm of my hand. My ego aches with betrayal when I dive in and kiss him. He moves his hands from my arms and around my back. He tastes like toothpaste and metal. It's blood. He is smiling smugly against my lips. So infuriating. My hand makes it into his hair and I push myself harder against him in an attempt to make him stop. It doesn't work. I feel the smile against my lips, against my jaw and against my neck.

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