MELANCHOLY [S.T. B. Hargrove]

23

I forced months of complete isolation because otherwise.. Billy and I would have ended up exactly like this.

I wish I could say the past year changed everything. But.. nothing changed in the slightest.

Instead, we were just a year older and picking up right where we left off outside of Joyce's house those months ago.

I swear I've had this exact dream over the past few months.

"I don't get it. So, help me out a little," he speaks, sending a chill down my spine.

"Anything," the word slips before my mind gives it the okay.

"You help out Max and her friends with the whole.. scientist covering up shit they did and Nancy's friend getting killed because of it."

The cover story everyone gave. The lie that protected Eleven.

"Why couldn't you just tell me that then instead of running off?"

Billy leans forward, one of his hands gripping the car and keeping me trapped between his arms, chest, and car.

"It wasn't because of that," I admit- half-truth.

"Then what was it?"

I rest my head back on the car in defeat. "Billy, you know what this is. What it's turning into."

"So, you just.. didn't want me?"

I shake my head. "I've never wanted anything more."

"Then, why the fuck did you leave?"

"Why the fuck did you threaten to tell Neil?" I fire back, anger spurred on by his anger.

"Racquel," he sighs.

"Neil beats your ass if you breathe the wrong way. If that hijo de puta found out we were even talking again, he'd hang us both from a tree for all of Hawkins to see!"

"We had plans!" he shouts. "Goddammit, Roc. We were supposed to go away after graduation. Now, we're here, doing this."

"You don't think I want a future with you?" I question. "God, Billy, that's all I want!"

Billy hits his hand against the car and bows his head. I could see tears of frustration in his eyes that he wouldn't dare let shed.

"And everyone else. Your friends can't stand me. My friends hate your guts, I mean shit you almost killed Steve!"

"Those dickheads weren't my friends. Tommy, Carol, and what's her face?" he scoffs. "They were just.. there. Then, when you were here, they were gone because I didn't give a shit!"

"I give a shit, Billy!" I cry. "I want you to be fucking happy and safe and-"

"How am I supposed to be any of that if you're not there?" he shouts.

"By finding some other bitch that would bend over backward for you and not drag you down! Hell, Mrs. Wheeler sure seems to have the hots for you. It's not like you don't have options!"

"I don't want a bitch to bend over backward. I want you that puts me in my place when I'm being a piece of shit!"

"I can't give you a life, Billy! I can't be a fucking wife or mother. That's what you deserve. You need better."

"Me? Have kids? So I can fuck them up the same ways my dad fucked me up?"

"It's not just about kids," I sigh and run my hand through my hair. "It's.. everything. Fuck, Billy, just.. having a future. Having someone to care for you. Love you."

"Do me one favor, then," he steps even closer, our chests nearly touching. "Tell me you don't love me."

My mouth goes dry. I stare up at Billy.

"If you can tell me that, then we can go on and pretend none of this ever happened. Hell, we can even go back to being friends," he offers. "But, you have to tell me that now. Or else I'm not giving this up. I don't give a shit if Neil, or Max, or Steve, or God himself tries to stop us."

I couldn't say it with him so close. I rest a hand on his chest, easing him away from me.

That was just another mistake. I could feel his heart racing.

"Tell me, Roc," Billy urges.

I lower my head. I couldn't look him in the eyes. He knew that. His fingers grace my chin and he pulls my head back up.

I lift my hand from his chest. But, I immediately miss the warmth. So, I gently rest my hand back over his heart.

"Billy, I.." I swallow roughly.

Joyce. Bob. Danger. Neil.

I push myself off the car and into Billy's arms. My hand on his chest reaches to the back of his head and I bring our lips together.

No. This was stupid.

Danger. 

Neil.

Upside Down.

Billy reaches and hooks my legs over his arms, picking me up. My back rests against the car as my legs wrap around his waist, my ankles locking behind his back.

The kiss turns messy and hasty. I tangle my hands in his hair, kissing as many times as fast as I could.

The electricity. The tension. The water boiling over a pot on the stove.

There were so many words and metaphors I could use.

Words would never come close, though.

Billy stands up straight and carries me with him. I wrap both arms around his shoulders, keeping the kiss going and never losing contact.

Behind me, Billy opens the back door to his car. His arms tense under my hold as he crouches while carrying my weight, laying me down in the backseat.

I finally break the kiss long enough to take a few quick gasps of air. I untuck and unbutton Billy's shirt as his hands undo my belt and buttons on my shorts.

Too far. I didn't like the distance.

I sit up a little and drag Billy the rest of the way back to my lips. The only reason we part then is because Billy's kisses trail off the side of my lips, down my jaw, and along my neck.

I blame the Wheeler family as a whole for me going back on my words.