twenty-two || boys are stupid

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JUNE 2nd

With the release of high school and the ease of summer filtering in like a dream, there were no complaints in the world. Just simplicity.

"Tell me about your mum."

In Tatum's quiet bedroom with no parents nearby, Billy was reclined on the pillows with Tatum resting on his bare chest and smoking a cigarette they'd been sharing.

His brows lifted softly, thinking as he let out a plume of smoke. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything." Tatum kissed his chest lightly before resting her chin down. "Anything. What color was her hair?"

"Blonde," he replied, running a hand through Tatum's hair. "Golden like the sun."

"Was she originally from California?"

"Washington, actually." Billy continued to toy with her hair as he stared up at the ceiling, the soft hum of a record long over still spinning in the background. "She grew up in Seattle but wanted warmer weather. My grandma still lives out there. Dad stopped letting us visit her a long time ago. What about your mom?"

"Born and bred in Chicago." Her eyes had closed in contentment. "It's a wonder Dad managed to get her here to Hawkins."

Billy smiled softly, taking in the details of her face without being caught. "They met at school, right? At Northwestern?"

"Mhm," she hummed, worried that if she nodded he would stop playing with her hair. "They met his junior year and dated through the rest of their degrees. He was a year ahead of her so he got an apartment in the city to be near her. He temped at a publishing firm, which is how he got his first book published. He slipped it on one of their desks while delivering coffee. They fired him, but he got a book deal, so it worked out."

"How long were they married for?"

"They got married in sixty-four, had me in sixty-seven. I was four when she died, so seven years, but they were together for a little over ten. Yours?"

"About ten years. They didn't know each other for long before they got married. If they had waited, it would have been better."

Tatum's eyes fluttered open, his hand ceasing to stroke her hair. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Whatever you're comfortable with."

"I just feel bad if I'm moping about it."

Sitting up as she turned over, she propped herself up on her elbows. "Why?"

Billy's shrugged, unable to meet her gaze. "It's not fair for me to be sad about my mom leaving when she's still alive."

"Billy, your emotions are still valid whether or not you think my situation is worse than yours." She reached up, running a hand along her cheek.

He cupped his hand overs hers, holding it there. "I'm not good with emotions. Not really."

"That's okay, too." Tatum searched his eyes as they finally met hers. "I didn't know that, you know. That she left. You never talk about her."

"It's hard to. And I can't talk to my dad about it. I can't talk to him about anything," he said, letting go of her hand.

"I'm here."

Billy leaned in, kissing her forehead before reclining back again. "Tell me something I don't know about you. That way we're even."

There was so much he didn't know.

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