Blondie Wannabe: A Billy Hargrove Fanfic

Some Boy's Ego

"Yeah." He looked me up and down, nose crinkling. "I can't believe Mom and Dad are letting you fuck Sal in the house; it's gross."

"Why do you care?"

"I don't," he said with a snort. "I just think it's funny that after all the bitching and moaning you do about going against the grain and being a free spirit, you start dating the person Dad would hand-pick for you if he could."

"That's not true-"

"Isn't it? Sal is Dad's godson, he took him in out of the goodness of his heart. When does he ever do anything altruistically? You'll marry Sal and have kids with him and he'll officially be part of the family. Deb, you are the perfect daughter; Dad's little princess."

My lower lip trembled, and I pushed past him so he wouldn't see me cry. I lingered in the hallway till I heard Steve jog down the stairs, then did an about face and returned to my room. I didn't want to snuggle with Sal, not after all the horrible things my brother said about us. Honestly, I never wanted to see anyone ever again.

"What do you think?" Billy held up his sketch of my hands during Advanced Art Class.

"It's fine," I snapped.

We were only a week into the new semester, and I was ready to throw myself off the cliffs at the edge of town. Billy had drawn my hands hundreds of times, and, at Daisy's request, I'd done the same. We put on different rings and gloves, and under other circumstances, I might have found the exercise interesting, but not when I had to look his stupid blonde mullet for fifty minutes every day.

"Just fine? What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing's wrong with it. You drew my hands; they're very realistic, good use of shadow. What else do you want me to say?"

Billy sighed, setting down his pencil. Yesterday, I suggested he stick with the 4H and 2H primarily, and try cross-hatching rather than smudging. A tingle of satisfaction rippled through my body when I realized he'd taken my advice.

"You're going to have to move on from whatever problem you have with me, or I'm going to end up failing again-"

"I had nothing to do with you failing," I hissed, face flushing. "You failed because you painted an incredibly inappropriate portrait and couldn't turn it in." I looked around, checking to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "And I'm not entirely sure you didn't do it on purpose so I'd be stuck with you for another semester."

He cocked a blonde eyebrow. "That's your theory, huh? I assure you, I'm not nearly as devious as you think I am."

When the final bell rang, I booked it out of the room, hating to spend one unnecessary second in the art room. That hurt more than anything, that Billy ruined the one place in Hawkins High I actually liked. On my way to my car, I spotted Max sitting alone on her skateboard in the middle of the lawn. After a split second of consideration, I made a beeline for her.

"What's going on?" I asked, kneeling down beside her. "Where are your friends?"

"They're not really my friends anymore," she said. "I mean, I still hang out with Dustin and Will sometimes, but Lucas and I broke up, and Mike hated me from the start."

"That sucks."

"I'm an idiot for dating him, it threw a wrench in the group and for nothing, they sided with him, of course, they were his friends from the start."

I sat down on the ground, even though the frost coating the blades of grass soaked clean through my jeans. "Something similar happened to me; it's part of why I dropped out of college. Why did you and Lucas break up?"

"Nothing bad happened, we just didn't really like-like each other, but now he doesn't want to be friends anymore. That's why my parents split; one day they were in love, and the next day, they weren't."

"He'll get over it, you just bruised his ego."

"Why do I always have to cater to some boy's ego?"

"That's the ten million dollar question." Across the parking lot, I could see Billy, aviators shielding his eyes from the winter sun, looking around in circles till he spotted us, waving Max over. "You're brother's waiting for you."

"I know, I can see." She stood up, tucking her skateboard under her arm. "Do you ever get the feeling like someone might kill you? Not that they actually will, but that they might, that they want to hurt you and they want to hurt other people, and the fear that one day they will makes it impossible to relax even for a second. Even in your dreams, you're afraid of them killing you and it fills your nightmares?"

Images flashed across my mind: Dad standing over Steve, the lamp smashed, the stitches and bruises that covered my brother's face all through November. He never laid a hand on me and I had no reason to think he ever would, but I knew he was capable of wrath and violence and destruction. The word "princess" still cut through me like a knife, reminding me of the barbed insult he used against me growing up.

And yet, I shook my head. "Sorry, Max, I don't really know what you're talking about."

"Okay," she said, dabbing a few tears away with her sleeve. "See you around."

She hurried off, Billy shouting something at her as she threw herself into his Camaro, slamming the door shut. Before climbing into the driver's seat, he looked around, observing the lot. I thought, perhaps, his gaze lingered on me for a moment, but his mirrored sunglasses made it impossible to say for sure.

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