sins of my youth. // Billy Hargrove x oc !plus size

020 ➶ Rose Tint My World

"Billy has to go too cause Neil says it's a family event." Max turned to Evie. "I think he'd be happier with you there."

"I think Billy and I both are fine being there for you. I had my fourteenth at the rink too. It'll be fun." Evie beamed, legs up to sway idly. "Plus we haven't met the Chief's kid. She's home-schooled, right?"

"Yeah, she might be joining us in school next year." Max stayed still for Carol's brush. "Depends. She was uh...adopted under weird circumstances. You'll like her. I taught her how to do that felting thing because of you and she made this funny one of her dad."

"I'll bet Hopper loved that." Evie winked.

"He's kind of a babe in like a scruffy, rugged way," Carol remarked. "Strong mountain man type."

"Ew. He's so old." Max reeled back to laugh.

"I'm just saying! I like a man in uniform. He rocks the khaki."

"The moms in town do eat him up." Heather shrugged, joining Evie on the bed with a handful of candy. "We all have our strange crushes. I like high cheek-bones. Guys with a little Bowie. Evie? You got one?"

"Gia Carangi even if she isn't modeling any more, I love her face." Evie was flicking pages without looking. Howls from the TV went ignored through the chatter.

"I called that. Fenny being into ladies. Try Iman." Carol winked which earned her a look as if she hadn't planted a kiss on Evie in a fit of rage.

"People say Billy's pretty like a girl." Max had added which got the other girls giggling.

"I like this one, we're so keeping her." Carol got up to root for a bag of chips, popping them open. "Like the zombie face better?"

"I still look too pretty." Max appeared more goth than zombie.

"You are pretty. Deal with it. We redheads stick together." Carol stole Evie's magazine. "Let us know when the party is, we'll be there."

Max looked at the three older girls squished together on Heather's bed. Chattering and supporting. Happy to have her around.

A bright smile touched her face for the first time since Neil Hargrove walked into her home.

** ** **

Most days, all it felt like was floating. Floating through her house. Through Hawkins. Up and down streets. Through school. A stunning illusion she pulled like wool over her dark eyes.

A woman in rippling silks walking endless halls toward a great, cherry red door at the end, but the door gets farther away and she's thrilled to continue on even still. Feather wings glittering to unfold from her back because heaven's light is beyond the door. Crystalline eyes with their hold. Waiting for her. The sky awaits her with caressing clouds. Opulent gold sun rays and twinkling stars when the world lies down.

Evie knew she was too big for her wings most days. Too heavy to leave the Earth.

Knew in her beating heart of hearts that was the first thing people think when they see her. This magnificent soul with drive and neon and talent reduced to a single shrewd glance. And they don't think twice until she's something vaguely sexual. Something marketable you can package and process and sell to the last drop.

Easier to stomach something uncomely if you can slide into it ruthlessly to rut. They always come like animals, wailing as a banshee would to get off better than they ever will in their small lives. They eat it up. Cover it in sweat and regret and blame.

These things that hang as little weights on her heartstrings swinging back and forth. They make her not want to attempt extending those wings to fly. Fear of heads shaking in judgement. Fear of looking uglier. More foolish for even trying. Poor thing.