Chapter Text
In a town as small as Hawkins news travel fast.
Heather heard of the new family that had moved barely a couple of hours after their arrival. Then again, her dad’s the chief editor of Hawkins’ newspaper, so she’s used to hearing everything before anyone else.
“Mrs. Hemphill, came by at noon to tell my mom everything,” she tells her friend Sandy.
“So? Tell me everything!” Sandy’s blue eyes shine with interest. Her blond hair looks like cotton candy behind her and Heather’s hands itch to caress it.
“Mrs. Hemphill said that the Hargrove’s are a family of four,” Heather says, relishing on having Sandy’s full attention, “According to her, they are, and I quote “One hard-looking man in his mid-forties, a bird like redhead in her thirties and two children.”
“Children?” Sandy popped her bubblegum, “Who was riding that blue beast then? Please don’t say the dad.”
“Worse,” Heather teases with a smirk, “the mom.”
She laughs at the disgusted noise that comes out of the blonde.
“Ew! That’s like eight million times worse.”
“Can’t believe you bought that,” Heather laughs until her eyes start to tear up.
Sandy’s eyes go huge, her mouth opening so wide Heather fears she’s going to drop her gum. “Ugh, you’re the worst,” Sandy screeches and shoves her shoulder.
“Sorry, sorry. I’m kidding.” Heather takes a moment to wipe the tears away and make sure her mascara hasn’t been ruined, before continuing. “No, the blue beast was driven by their eldest son.”
“Now, that’s interesting, tell me more."
Heather tries not to react to Sandy’s interest, she pops her gum in hopes to mask her irritation.
“Yeah, so get this, apparently they have two children, one’s like a twelve-year-old tomboy,” she makes a dismissive gesture with her hand, “but the other, the other’s a teen around our age, Mrs. Hemphill says that he’s definitely below twenty and that he’s ripped.”
Sandy’s smile widens at that. “Ok, but like, Schwarzenegger ripped, or like James Dean ripped, cause they’re like two completely different things.”
“Didn’t say,” Heather shrugs, “But she says he’s blond, and really handsome.”
“Girl, I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but I can’t wait for it to be Monday,” Heather squeals, “this is so exciting.”
Heather pops her gum a couple of times, letting Sandy ride her excitement wave. “Jason’s not gonna like how ‘exciting’ you think this is.”
‘I don’t like how exciting you think this is, and I’m not the boyfriend’ she thinks.
“C’mon H, don’t be such a mood killer,” Sandy rolls her beautiful sapphire eyes, “I’m just having fun, you know? Jason’s only gonna care about this new Hargrove boy if he knows how to play basketball.” She moves her head to the right, the light of the falling sun reflects on her hair making her look like an angel. It makes Heather’s mouth go dry.
“Yeah, I know. Boys,” Heather says.
“See, knew you’d get it.” Sandy flashes her a smile, all of her pearly teeth on show “Hey, maybe this new boy could be your next conquest. After all, you can’t be sad forever about Patrick.”
‘Can’t I?’ Heather wonders. It’s like the “mourning” period she’s allowed to have between boyfriends gets shorter and shorter with every new boy. She wishes she could spend the rest of her life without looking at a penis ever again.
“I don’t know, Patrick’s just moved out of town like, two months ago.”
“That’s like a life-time.” Sandy says with a grin, “Besides, who better to catch the new hottie of Hawkins than our cheerleader captain?”
“Let’s wait until we see him, ok?” Heather says, trying to placate her friend, “For all we know, he could be a gangster or something.”
Sandy scrunches her face up. “What?”
“He comes from California, so who knows?”
“Girl, I think you drank too much yesterday. Oh,” Sandy’s face lights up, “We should totally invite him to Tina’s party this weekend.”
Heather rolls her eyes but stays silent. She just hopes that this Hargrove guy’s actually ugly or a bloke so she can get away with not even trying to seduce him.
According to Mrs. Hemphill, her new neighbors were rude and secluded since, when she had decided to give them a casserole as a welcome gift, they hadn’t invited her over. Heather’s eyes rolled so hard it made her head hurt. The woman sounded so scandalized one would think she caught her new neighbors having sex in the living room.
The next day, both of them lean against Angela Davis' car and wait on the school’s parking lot for the blue beast of a car to appear on the horizon. Sandy jumps when its roar pierces through the air. Heather just gives the car an unimpressed look. The California blue plaques stand out among all the other.
Out of the, admittedly, imposing car, comes a small redhead, who dashes to the middle school in her skateboard.
“That’s the tomboy,” Sandy comments.
“And THAT’s the new hottie,” Angela whistles. She’s twirling her blond hair, which is a completely different shade of blond than Sandy’s, as she stares at the guy’s ass.
“Damn,” Sandy exhales, “definitely James Dean ripped.” The secretive smile she gives Heather would normally have her stomach flipping around. But Sandy’s next words make dread spread through her regardless of her feelings for the blond “You so need to hit that.”
“Why does Heather get him?” Angela intervenes, and Heather has never liked her more, “she’s not the only one who went through a recent break up.”
“Angie,” Sandy starts but Heather interrupts her before she can say anything else.
“Angie’s right. Everyone deserves a chance.” She says.
Angela reacts by rolling her eyes at her, “Yeah, we get it, captain, you’re the hottest girl in town and could get whoever you want no matter what we mere mortals try.”
“That’s really not what I meant.”
“Whatever, let’s go before we’re late.” And with that, Angie starts to walk towards the building.
“Don’t worry,” Sandy says, following their friend, “You’ll have him around your finger before Tina’s party.”
The thing is, Heather knows she’s the only one to blame for this situation. She’s the one who wanted to be a cheerleader, and she’s also the one who decided to run for captain. But it’s not like she knew that being a cheerleader meant that everyone expected you to always have a romantic situation when she started at thirteen. Then again, she also didn’t know she'd never get past the “cooties” stage with boys when she was thirteen. And, worse of all, she never could’ve imagined she’d end up having feelings for her best female friend, either.
So, she observes the new boy- Billy- through the whole week. He seems to be brash and loud, like all the other jocks around. He smokes like a chimney and drives his sister around. Well, his step sister according to Meghan. The redhead had told them that Billy had snapped at her when she called the tomboy his sister. Sandy had rolled her eyes, whispering to the others about how sensitive Meghan always was. But Heather believes her, Billy seems to have a bad temper and she hopes that’s enough excuse for her not to pursue him.
Meghan, of course, stomps over her hopes with her next words.
"He's amazing in bed, though," she giggles.
"Amazing like in..." Angie prompts.
"Like in he made me come twice." Meghan's cheeks turn as red as her hair, but she looks happy with herself.
All the squad looks at each other. Heather's honestly surprised by that. She's had to sleep with two different guys, and she's had to listen to her friends talk about fifty more, and none of them have ever said they came, much less twice.
-o-o-o-
“Now, that’s talent.” Angie tells them as they watch Billy do a keg stand for forty-two seconds, beating Steve’s record by four seconds.
“Yeah, it is,” Sandy says. She’s dressed as “bad Sandy” from the end of Grease. It’s been her favorite costume since she got boobs at thirteen, “Even Jason seems to like him.” She tells them. Her speech a little slurred, they’ve all have a bit too much of the mysterious punch at this point.
The crowd, along with the three of them, follows as Billy enters the house, flanked by Jason and Tommy H.
Billy has an even more imposing presence than his car and everyone inside parts to let him pass.
Heather holds her breath when Billy approaches Steve and Nancy. Billy’s body seems coiled tight, ready for a fight. A fight they all know Tommy H. would love to see. Steve just eyes Billy and the blond gives him a once over. The tension around them is so thick you could cut it with a knife. But then the princess leaves and, naturally, Steve chases after her, the whole situation with Billy forgotten.
“Coward!” Both Tommy H. and Jason shout at Steve.
But Steve doesn’t even turn their way. His whole focus is on Nancy. Heather’s never been able to understand his obsession with her, but to each their own.
The boys herd Billy to the kitchen where the rest of the booze is. Sandy nudges her side with a suggestive look.
“It’s your opportunity, go get him.” Sandy says.
Heather stays silent. There’s nothing she can say to that. Not when Jason and Tommy H. are pointing in her direction while whispering to Billy. Both Heather and Angela push her towards them. It’s annoying, but she goes with it. Tommy and Jason do the same to a disinterested Billy.
The blond’s faster at putting his game face on, though. There’s a smirk and bedroom eyes directed at her before they meet half-way. Heather just tries to let the alcohol loose her face.
“Hi,” Billy says. He hands her a red cup full of punch while holding another one for himself.
“Hi,” Heather downs half the cup in one go. She’d already had a couple of shots but she needs to be way drunker if she’s supposed to sleep with this guy.
Billy looks impressed. He tips his cup to hers and downs most of his drink.
“So, you’re Billy, the new kid.” She gives him a once over before smirking. Her head’s starting to feel lighter so she downs the rest of the cup.
“Yeah,” Billy looks at his entourage before facing her again, “So, my friends were telling me about you.” He flirts.
“Yeah? What did they say?” She leans her butt against the wall and arches her back so her boobs stand out. Her head’s finally starting to spin.
“That you’re the cheerleader captain and the hottest girl in town. And, I must say, they weren’t wrong.” His eyes slowly travel up her body.
Heather giggles “You tell everyone that?”
Billy doesn’t seem offended in the least, “Nah, I’ve got other lines for them.” He rests his arm right above her shoulder and leans in slightly, “But you, you truly are the hottest girl in here.”
“Then you clearly haven’t met Sandy,” her eyes go wide the moment the words are out of her mouth. Perhaps that last red cup was a mistake…
Billy looks taken aback for a second but he composes quickly, “Whoever told you that was a liar.” He winks at the two blondes that are observing them. The girls giggle and blush. “They’re ok, but you’re on another league.”
Heather’s saved from putting her foot on her mouth further by the sound of Nancy and Steve fighting over the punch. They both turn to them when the crowd gasps as Steve accidentally throws the red punch all over her white shirt.
Nancy storms to the bathroom with Steve in tow.
“Trouble in paradise?” Billy asks her, his eyes fixed on the door where both love birds disappeared.
“So it seems,” Heather comments, “Not that anyone’s surprised.”
“Yeah?” Billy turns to her again, and this time his eyes are shinning with interest.
“Yep,” she says, happy to put be out of the spotlight, “The princess didn’t like his preppy jock persona, so she made him leave his old friend group, basically alienated him from everyone so she could mold him to her desires.”
“You two were friends?” Billy asks, his eyes drift towards the bathroom from time to time.
Heather shrugs “Kind of? He used to rule the school like two years ago, so we had the same crew. But he was always closer to Tommy H. and Carol.”
“You sound bitter,” Billy says, his tone flat.
Heather just frowns. She isn’t, not really. But Steve did seem like the least horrible jock to end up with. And they were close when young. Younger.
“What? You hooked up with him or something?” There’s a fire in Billy’s tone that Heather’s too drunk to discern.
They did, and Tommy or Jason, or one of her cheerleaders, will tell him that, but he won’t hear it from her. “That’s…”
Heather’s interrupted by Steve leaving the party in tears.
“What the fuck?”
“Oh, wow,” Heather blurts at the image of “Byers the creep” getting a very drunk Nancy out of the bathroom. The girl’s all over him, saying that something’s bullshit as he drags her out of the party.
“Oh. My. God,” both Sandy and Angie appear all of a sudden by their side. Jason, Tommy and Carol are right behind them.
“Mate, I knew that bitch was playing him,” Tommy says delighted.
“We ALL knew,” Carol says, leaning to tell them all about it in typical Carol fashion, “She’s been playing doubles with the creep and Steve since last year.”
“What? No way,” Sandy looks horrified by this. She always defended that they made a cute couple, even if she wasn’t right for him.
“It’s always the quiet ones,” Angie says, a cigar hanging from her red lips.
“I thought she was a frigid,” Jason muses, confused at the situation.
“No,” Carol chips in, she looks too eager to spill the beans, “Steve caught them in her bedroom just a couple days after miss perfect “lost” her virginity with him.”
“So that’s all she was waiting for to become the local whore?” Angie asks.
“Someone should tell Meghan that Nancy Wheeler’s after her position,” Sandy’s comment sends everyone into a fit of laughter.
“Poor Steve,” And, while Heather isn’t attracted to him, she still feels for the poor guy because he seemed genuinely in love with that girl.
“Well, he had it coming,” Tommy says, putting his arm around Carol, “We warned him that she was no good for him. Especially after he’d already caught her with the creep once.”
“Guess love truly makes fools of us all,” Jason says all philosophically. Heather suspects it would sound better if he weren’t high as a kit.
Heather’s eyes go to Billy. For the first time since she’d started observing him, Billy was so quiet she’d almost forgotten about him being there altogether.
He stares at the front door in silence before directing his attention back to the group.
“Well, who cares about them?” He shrugs, “Let’s keep this party going! Am I right?!” He howls. The rest of the party shouts in agreement.
“You’re so right, man,” Tommy’s arm leaves Carol’s shoulder to give Billy a fist bump.
“Yeah, fuck those guys,” Jason seconds. He kisses Sandy before taking her away to neck her in a corner. He’s way too high.
Angie throws them a wink and goes back to find someone to grind against on the dance floor. Tommy and Carol do the same. Which leaves Billy and Heather alone, again.
“I’m not feeling well,” Heather leans heavier on the wall behind her.
“Want me to tuck you in?” Billy says with a smirk.
Heather panics for a moment, she’s really drunk and she knows what’s going to happen if she says yes. On the other hand, she’s so drunk that she’s either going to throw up all over Billy or she’ll lose consciousness.
Either way, she won’t have to deal with it right now.
“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She says weakly.
“Come on, you look like you’re going to fall at any moment.” Which is true.
“... Ok,” Heather whispers.
They hear her friends howling and whistling at them as they go upstairs. It only makes Heather feel worse. She’s about to get taken advantage of, and her friends are cheering it on.
She’s been to Tina’s a couple of times, so she leads Billy to her parents’ room. She’ll probably have to come back to her house at some point and she doesn’t want Tina’s room to be the room in which someone dicked her down while unconscious.
She tenses as Billy locks the door behind them but falls face first on the bed nevertheless.
When Heather comes back to consciousness she’s greeted with the sight of Billy smoking in the window sill. The sky’s still pitch black, so she probably wasn’t out that long. Her head’s pounding and her tummy feels wrong but, but that’s it. Her groin doesn’t hurt, nor does her butt. She doesn’t feel a dick shaped hole in her and her mouth only tastes like the punch. Which makes her want to puke but is way better than the anything else she was expecting.
Billy’s focus is fixated on the scenery outside, a sneer on his face.
Heather straightens herself on the bed and pukes on the basket beside it.
“You’re awake,” Billy doesn’t sound angry. But he doesn’t sound happy either. His tone’s completely flat.
“What happened?” Heather asks after spitting in the bin.
“You blacked out,” Billy shrugs.
“And you stayed here while I woke up?”
“Would you have preferred me to leave you alone and passed out?” Billy glares at her.
Now he sounds annoyed, even if Heather isn’t sure why.
“No, I guess not.” She knows what could’ve happened had anyone seen Billy downstairs without her. They’d have come to look for her, found her unconscious body and proceeded to jump her without a care. “Thanks for staying.” She says and hopes that the gratefulness she feels is conveyed on her voice.
Billy gives her a disgusted once over, “Whatever,” He puts out his cigarette on the window sill, leaving a burn on the white wood.
It was still a nice thing to do, so she decides to try to repay him the only way she knows how to, “Do you still want to hook up?”
Billy snorts.
“You sure you’re up for that?”
Heather’s head still hurts and her stomach is squeezing on itself trying to get whatever’s left in it out.
“I could suck you up?”
“Ugh, not after you just barfed.” Heather rolls her eyes. Why are guys so damn dumb?
“I’d rinse my mouth first, obviously.”
“Nah, thanks.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Not interested.” Billy stands. He pops his joints loudly.
“I’m the cheerleader captain.” And yes, Heather knows she should be relived. She hates the taste of cock and doesn’t get anything out of it. But this is about principles. She’s the goddamn cheerleader captain!
“So?” Billy rolls his eyes at her, “I ain’t interested in spoiled brats who don’t know how to hold their liquor.” He exits the room, leaving Heather with her jaw on the floor.
No one’s ever said no to her.
Apparently, Billy didn’t tell anyone about what happened, because her friends, plus Carol, are waiting to interrogate her the next morning. But she doesn’t know what to say, so she just tells them the truth.
“I was drunker than I thought and ended up falling asleep. Billy was a total gentleman about it.” She repeats through all her periods to the members of the squad who haven’t heard it from Carol.
Angela forces them to skip third period so they can spy the boys during E.P.
So they spend the entire period looking at Billy trying to get Steve’s attention. Heather wonders if she’s the only one that notices just how hard he’s pulling Steve’s "pigtails”.
“He’s so taking the crown from Stevie.” Angie says.
“Jason’ll be super happy,” Sandy pops her grape flavored gum “He’s been waiting for someone to take Steve’s best-player position since forever.”
They watch as Billy rips the ball from Steve to make a point for the third time.
“He really is pummeling him to the ground.” Angie sounds delighted.
Yes, Heather's definitely the only one who notices.
Angie goes after him once lunch starts. Heather doesn’t even bother to pretend she’s annoyed by it.
“He drives like crazy, and it’s so hot,” Angie tells her on the phone that afternoon.
“With a car like that, I’d never drive below 50,” Heather says. She doesn’t really care about cars, but that one’s hot as hell.
“Totally,” Angie laughs, “And, get this, since his tomboy of a sister never showed up, I took him to the quarry.” She gives Heather enough time to gasp and laugh before continuing “I mean; we didn’t do anything. The car’s hot but kind of small, and you know I never give it up on the first date.”
“Yeah, I know, that’s why we have Meghan,” they both share a laugh.
“I know!” Angie squeals, “Anyway. So my brother came last weekend and he gave me like a pound of coke. I haven’t told anyone, because there was the rumor of the new guy being a hot Californian, and he so is. So I told him and he’s taking me out tomorrow to a nice dinner and to the nice motel outside the town.”
“Because you have coke?” Is that a good thing?
“No, look, the coke was like an incentive? Not that he needed any, but just to be sure, you know?”
“Oh, okay” Heather says, “Good luck I guess.”
“Tell me tomorrow, you and Sandy are coming at seven to help me get ready.” Angie says “He’s picking me up at nine, so that should be enough time.”
“Wow, you’re really making an effort for this guy.” Heather’s honestly impressed by the blonde’s interest. It’s been a while since her teammate’s been this interested in a boy.
“Have you seen him? He’s like a ten in a town full of sevens.”
“That, he is,” Heather concedes.
That’s how both Sandy and her find themselves in Angie’s house at seven sharp.
Sandy holds a red skirt that’s too small, and Heather grabs a black top with long sleeves.
“How about these?” Sandy asks, lifting the skirt close to the top.
“Oh my God, I’d totally forgotten I had those.” Angie’s face lights up and she takes the items, “These are perfect!”
She’s on her underwear, her beautiful shoulders mocking Heather’s inability to turn her eyes away from her friend. She hates getting changed with the girls, it always feels like she’s being a creep even though she’s trying super hard not to be. It’s not fair that Angie’s freckles are ALL over her body and how’s she supposed to not find them captivating?
They spend the next hour doing her makeup and her hair to Madonna’s voice. It’s easier to focus now that they’re all dressed, but she still can’t help but notice how pretty Sandy’s eyes look on this light, or how puffy her hair looks, or how perfect is Angie’s cupid’s bow.
“He’s going to swoon when he sees you,” Sandy tells her with a smile.
“Totally,” Heather grins at their work, Angie looks even more stunning than usual.
“I look… oof, I was trying to remember the word he used, it was something like, memorizing… mesmerizing!” Angie says.
“Like, you’re hard to forget?” Heather has no idea what that word means, but it sounds pretty.
“No, Billy said that it means something like hypnotizing?”
“Oh,” Both Sandy and Heather say.
“He doesn’t look like someone who uses that type of word…” Heather explains.
“Oh, but he is, he’s actually in advanced English.” Angie states proudly.
Both girls look at each in surprise. Billy definitely doesn’t strike her as the advanced English kind of guy but, what does she know?
They’re finished by eight-thirty with enough time for the perfume and polish to set in when the phone rings. Angie’s parents aren’t home so the blonde picks it up. Her nails are still wet so she holds it with both palms.
“Oh, Billy, hi! I was just…” Heather can only stare as Angie’s face goes through a myriad of emotions, ranging from happiness, to surprise, to hurt, to anger and finally settling on disappointment, “Can’t she just… No, I get it, but… Why not meet later? ... Excuse me? … Excuse me?!... Ugh, good luck finding someone with coke in this town asshole!” She slams the phone and proceeds to break into tears on their shoulders.
Heather can’t believe Angie, one of the most beautiful cheerleaders on her squad, just got stood up, but that’s exactly what happened. Sandy cancels her date with Jason and they both sit with Angie to watch movies while eating ice-cream and talking shit about Billy.
This caring phase of Sandy’s her favorite thing about the blonde. Heather remembers getting a broken wrist during practice last year and how Sandy had basically moved to her house to help her with everything.
Realizing she was a dyke and in love with her best friend was way more painful than a broken bone.
That Monday they find from Carol that Steve and Billy got into a big fight on Friday.
Heather sees red.
“Are you for real?!” If Billy faked having to look for his sister to go fight Steve Harrington instead of taking Angie on their date, Heather’s going to castrate him.
Carol looks taken aback by her outburst but she’s never missed an opportunity to gossip, “Yes, no one knows the details, but, my aunt, who works as a nurse, saw Steve getting admitted by a concussion and an almost broken nose.”
They all turn to the sound of the Camaro’s roar.
The little tomboy that supposedly ruined Angie’s night gets out at record speed. But Billy takes his time. He has a few bruises on his face, most of them are a pale blue or an ugly yellow, so they aren’t that bad. But he moves gingerly, like he’s in pain.
“If that’s how Billy looks, I don’t even want to imagine how Steve looks,” Heather says.
The girls all nod and hum in agreement.
Heather keeps observing Billy through the whole week. Billy looks miserable. He’s a bit muted, too. Not that anyone else is paying enough attention to notice.
Steve comes back on Thursday, he and Heather share four classes, so she sees him in English on the first period. He looks almost as bad as she imagined.
“Hi,” she greets him, sitting on the desk beside him.
“Hey,” Steve whispers.
“You okay?”
“Do I look okay?” He looks annoyed and in pain so Heather doesn’t react to his tone.
“Heard what happened. I’m sorry,” she gives him a tentative pat on the back and offers him one of the ibuprofens she keeps for her periods, “But, hey, at least you got him good.”
Steve doesn’t take the pill “Thanks, but they say I can’t because of the concussion,” he explains.
“Oh, sorry,” Heather puts the box back into her purse.
“And what do you mean I got him good?” Steve asks, “I barely got to punch him twice and I don’t think it did anything.”
Heather blinks in surprise.
“But, he’s limping, and his face…” she says. The boys had told them that Billy’s back and torso were a big blue and purple mess.
“What?” Steve sounds genuinely confused.
The teacher arrives at that moment so neither of them get anything else from the other.
But Steve isn’t lying. Which means that he wasn’t the one who beat Billy up. But if he didn’t do it, then who did? And why has Billy let everyone believe that Steve did it?
Heather doesn’t know the answer by the end of the period but she knows two things: One, Billy wants to keep the identity of his attacker a secret. And two, Tommy and the rest of the basketball team are kind of impressed with Steve for standing up to Billy, even if he lost, so they’ll leave him alone, as long as they think that Steve beat Billy up.
“Steve,” Heather grabs him by the arm to prevent him from leaving the room, “Don’t tell anyone it wasn’t you who beat Billy up.”
Steve frowns, his head tilting to the side.
“Just trust me, don’t let anyone know it wasn’t you.”
Everyone’s already out of the room, and Steve looks tired. There are big bags under his eyes, making the bruises look even worse, his test result is crushed on his hand. So he just nods.
Heather goes out of the room to her next class. Her own test is tossed on her back. She can already hear her father’s disappointment at his daughter getting another D- in English. The worst part, though, is that she can totally hear her mom’s voice telling her that she’s pretty enough to land a good man who won’t care that she can’t read.
Heather wants to scream, but she settles on shoving the damn sheet of paper into her locker. A couple rows down the hall, Billy’s putting his own things in his own locker. She sees him tense when Tommy and Carol cross paths with Steve, but he relaxes once both of them keep walking without any fuss.
That’s when it hits her.
Regardless of whatever reason Billy has to keep his attacker a secret, he’s also protecting Steve by encouraging people to think it was him who left him like this. So he cares about Steve. Which doesn't make any sense like at all. Still, Heather knows Billy has a nice side, she knows that any other guy would’ve taken advantage of her. And any other “nice guy” would’ve left her there because he’s nice and won’t take advantage of her, but he isn’t nice enough to stick around and make sure no one else does. But Billy did stick around to make sure nobody touched her while she was out.
She feels like there’s more to him than meets the eye, but she doesn’t know what to do about it.
“Hey, girl,” Angie greets her during lunch, “how was the exam?”
“Don’t even remind me,” Heather buries her head on her arms.
“That bad?” Sandy rubs her back. Her hand is small and soft, but Heather knows the strength it hides. She leans closer to her.
“Dad’s going to kill me.”
“Maybe you need a tutor.” Now she’s playing with her hair, which is unfair because Heather loves having her hair played with. And now she’s going to smell of Sandy’s perfume, and wait a minute-
“A tutor?”
“Yeah, it could help,” Sandy shrugs.
“Ew,” Angie says, “What could a nerd do for her?”
Sandy purses her lips, “I didn’t mean for her to look for a nerd. There are plenty of normal guys who’re good at English.”
They all stay quiet, thinking about a candidate. And Heather hates that she knows exactly who could help her. And she hates that she wants him to help her because it would give her the opportunity to try to make sense of him. But she can’t suggest him, not after what he did to Angela.
“Well,” Angie starts, much to Heather’s surprise, “Billy is in advanced English.”
“But I can’t ask him after what he did to you,” Heather argues.
Angie just rolls her eyes, “Don’t worry about it. You need a tutor, and you shouldn’t have to deal with a nerd just because Billy and I didn’t work out.”
“So, you’re ok with it?”
“Totally.” Angie makes a dismissive gesture with her hand, “Besides, he’s already paying for it, since now he knows I’m the only person in this town who has access to coke.” She says with a triumphant smile.
“Jason says he’s really cool,” Sandy chimes in, “So he’s like, the best option for a tutor.”
“Okay,” Heather agrees with a smile.
So Heather finds Billy on the parking lot, once classes are over. He’s leaning on his car and smoking a cigarette all alone.
“Hey, Billy,” she greets him.
“Hey,” Billy nods.
“You didn’t have basketball practice today?” She knows he did, but she also knows, from the guys, that the coach won’t let him practice this week because of his injuries. She also knows that Steve is on the bench for the whole month due to his concussion.
“You didn’t have cheerleading practice today?” Billy retorts.
“No, I…” she licks her lips and changes her weight from her left foot to her right one “I wanted to talk to you?”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
Heather bites back her nasty retort, she needs a favor and she needs Billy to be on a good mood for him to accept.
“Yes, yeah, it is.” She sighs, “Listen I, I failed my English test,” she swallows the again out of pride.
“So?”
“So, Angela told me that you’re in Advanced English,” Heather decides to ignore Billy’s scoff, “And I wanted to ask if you’d tutor me.”
Billy takes a step closer to her, letting the filter of his cigarette fall to the ground.
“What part of ‘I ain’t interested in spoiled brats,’ didn’t you get?” Billy’s snarl puts his white canines on show.
Heather doesn’t cower, though. They’re in an open space, and she can feel dozens of eyes on them. She could also bet that she’s faster than an injured Billy.
“I’m not asking you to do it out of interest in me,” and it still feels weird to talk to a boy who doesn’t want in on her pants, but she continues with a nonchalant tone “I’d obviously pay you.”
“I have better things to do with my afternoons, Holloway, so find someone else to help you.” He takes a step back without turning and both of his eyebrows go up when Heather follows him with a step of her own.
“I’m Angela’s best friend,” she comments, “Which means that I’m the only person in this town that can get you coke now that you blew up your chances with her.”
According to Angie, Billy was very interested on the fact that she has access to coke, like in really, really interested.
Billy’s blue eyes pierce into her brown ones, but she still doesn’t cower.
“I charge two bucks the hour,” Billy says after a while, “You still interested?”
Heather blinks. The way he worded that…
“You’ve done this before?”
“You interested or not?”
He has, he totally has.
“You good at it?” She asks. She’ll have to tell her parents if she needs to pay at least ten bucks on a tutor per week.
“Yes,” Billy answers, confidence dripping from his tone.
“Ok, then, I’m interested.”
Billy gives her a nod “What do you need help with?”
“English?” she repeats. Billy rolls his eyes.
“And that’s it?”
“What else can you help me with?”
“What else do you need help with?”
Heather blinks in surprise. He sounds so confident, not just his cocky jock brand of confidence, but like he actually knows what he has to offer.
“Spanish, history, civics and biology,” Truth be told, she’s almost failing all of her classes with the exception of arts, P.E. and math. Billy doesn’t even react to the list; he just nods again.
“Okay, I can help you with all of those,” Billy lights another cigarette, “It’s five classes so we’ll cover one each day and then I’ll help you with their homework. Should take around two or three hours per day.”
Two dollars the hour would be around 4 or 6 dollars the day, depending on how long she can stand before her headache starts. Which means around 20 to 30 dollars the week, more if she needs his help over the weekends.
Her parents won’t be happy about it.
“That’s from twenty to thirty dollars a week,” Billy just stares at her, “Fine, I’ll pay it, as long as it’s worth it.” He gives her a cocky smirk.
“It’ll be,” Billy winks at her.
“Okay, so starting at six or seven is fine for you?”
“Sure, seven’s alright,” Billy shrugs, there’s a red dot skating towards them, Heather doesn’t warn him, “We’ll start next week. Give me your failed tests tomorrow at this hour and your syllabuses so I can see what we need to do.”
Heather’s speechless with how prepare he sounds so she just nods.
“Your step-sister’s coming,” she points to the girl and Billy turns around to see her. He turns again, rolling his eyes.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, remember to bring those things,” Billy says, getting inside the car and tossing his filter to the sidewalk.
The little redhead gets off her board a couple of feet from them. She gives Heather a look before getting in the car. Billy speeds off the parking lot as soon as she’s in.
-o-o-o-
Billy arrives at her house at seven o’clock. Not even a minute late, and Heather’s sure she heard the Camaro’s roar about three minutes ago.
“Hi, Billy,” She answers the door with a smile. Like the good host her parents raised her to be.
“Hello, doll,” the flirty tone’s made a comeback.
“Come in,” she answers with a wink. This is a game she’s been playing since she was ten. She’s a pro at this point, when she ain't drunk out of her mind, that is.
Billy looks around as Heather leads him upstairs.
“What? No dinner first?” He asks once he realizes there’s no one else home.
"I thought that paying took care of that?” She smirks.
Billy’s laughter surprises her. As loud and as much of a party animal as he is, it’s really rare to hear him laugh.
She takes them to a small studio that used to be her playroom, it’s got a desk, two big comfy chairs and a dusty bookstand. There’s also a radio and a collection of cassettes.
Billy whistles at the room. Heather sits on the desk as he looks over the dusty books.
“You never read any of these?” He comments, passing his fingers through the thick layer of dust.
“Why’d I?” She deflects.
Billy’s sneer is back by the time he turns the other chair and straddles it.
“To stop you from failing English,” he says in a patronizing tone.
“That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” she wanted this session to be light and nice, but it seems that they clash too badly for that to happen.
Billy rolls his eyes, “I can’t do all the work, Holloway.”
“I’ll read what I have to read, now can we get started?” She snaps. She’s usually good at keeping her cool no matter what, but her reading skills, or lack thereof, are a touchy subject.
Billy shrugs and puts his notes down.
They focus on English first. It’s torture.
Heather can feel the headache on her temples already.
Billy’s observing her with interest, but he doesn’t say anything. They switch to her homework for the second hour.
“How’re you so good at Spanish?” Heather can’t help to ask.
“Viví en California por dieciséis años,” Billy says. The words, apart from California, make no sense to her, but he says them with the same speed with which he speaks in English, “I lived for sixteen years in Cali,” Billy explains.
She doesn’t know what to answer to that so she just smiles and they continue.
Billy comes back every day, for the whole week.
“Do you live alone?” Billy asks on Friday. By some miracle they’ve made it through the week without killing each other.
“No, why?” Heather tilts her head confused by the question.
“Never seen your folks around,” Billy shrugs.
“Dad’s the chief editor of the Hawkins post, so he tends to work late,” she explains, “Mom’s on a lot of clubs. They both come for dinner at four and leave at six every day, though.”
Billy nods. They’re going through history. Heather doesn’t actually mind the subject; she’s just failing because it involves too much reading.
“For this one I made a basic timeline,” he pulls out a paper sheet with a timeline. It only has dates and titles beneath them, “You can decorate it and complement it with whatever you see fit.”
“This,” Heather examines it carefully. There’s almost no letters on it and she can make most of the words out of the context, “This is perfect,” she smiles at Billy.
Billy observes her for a long time. He pulls another sheet of paper out of his bag.
“Read this,” He says. Heather’s smile falls and her shoulders tense.
It’s such a shame, the night was going so well.
“Sure,” she takes the sheet. The paper isn’t actually white but beige and the letters are big and blocky. Readying it isn’t easy, but it also doesn’t make her want to cry by the end of the first line, “This isn’t about the World war II,” she says. The text is actually about the water cycle, which she isn’t studying in any class.
“I know,” Billy keeps giving her that same intense look from before, “It was the only I had with that design.” He explains. “Is it easier to read?”
Heather blinks at him, “I… yeah, it is. I mean, it isn’t like… it’s just easier than other texts,” she shrugs.
Billy nods, “Look,” his tone’s serious in a way she’s never heard him use, “I ain’t no doctor or anything, but I think you have dyslexia.”
“What?”
“It’s a reading disorder,” he makes a vague gesture with his hand.
Heather closes and opens her mouth, she doesn’t know what to say. She only knows that the word disorder’s never good. And that it means there’s something wrong with her.
“It’s not that uncommon,” Billy continues, “But again, I ain’t no doctor.”
Heather’s knee reaction is to snap at him, but that sentence has her swallowing it down. Are there other people like her? Is it not just because she's dumb?
“What… what does that mean?” she asks in a small voice she doesn’t recognize. Billy looks to the side, his hands flex in need for a cigarette, “What does it do?”
Billy licks his lips, “I don’t know that much about it. But I’ve been told that it makes you confuse the letters on the words?” he frowns, trying to get the right words “Some people see an L instead of an I, that type of shit.”
Heather looks down at the sheet. At first glance, the first line “The water cycle describes the continuous movement of water on, above and below the surface of the Earth.” Looked like “Tha wetor cqde dascribas tho centlnos movament of wetar on, adova end belom lhe surfeca ot tha Earlh.” But it only lasted for a second, unlike the other texts, she was able to decode the words with minimal effort.
“Could it be also an A for an E or an L for a T?” she asks in that same small voice.
“Sure.” Heather nods, “look, again, I ain’t no doctor, but if that’s what you’re seeing then you should see one.”
“And if I do have it, what then?” her hands are shaking on her lap.
“It doesn’t have a cure if that’s what you’re asking,” it feels like all the air’s been punched out of her, “but there are ways to deal with it.”
“How?” she whispers.
Billy gets a cigarette out and puts it on his lips, he doesn’t light it, just lets it sit in his mouth.
“There were some kids in my old school that had it. They “read” with audiobooks and used those yellow pads with lines on them to write, most of the time. Others had notebooks with yellow or beige pages, you know, the ones that are made with recycled paper. They used mostly charts, diagrams, time lines, you know, visual stuff.” He clears his throat; his eyes are fixed on the desk.
“How do you know so much?”
Billy tenses but he answers, “I had a… a friend in Cali that had it.”
Heather just nods. There are tears rolling down her cheeks. There’s a distant sound of a car pulling that makes her wonder how long have they been discussing this.
“You should tell your folks,” he says, picking up his stuff. Heather nods again. “You coming to Jason’s party tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs.
“I’ll see you there, then.” Billy gets out of the room and Heather can hear him making small talk with her parents. Her mother laughs delighted at whatever he’s saying. He leaves shortly after.
Heather doesn’t move from her place for a long time.
She re-reads the first line, her vision blurry: “Tha wafor cyclo desoides lha conflnus movomant ot wafar on, adovo and botow fho surteco ot tho Eerfh.” She knows what it actually says, she knows, but she can’t see it, not at first glance, it's probably made worse with the tears blocking her vision, too.
She takes a deep breath and goes down. Her mother stops midsentence, her open arms falling to her sides. Her father frowns at her.
“What’s wrong, love?” her mother asks.
“Did that guy do anything to you?” the frown on his face deepens, his head becoming red with fury.
Heather shakes her head. There are tears falling from her eyes freely.
She tells them what Billy said.
Neither of her parents had ever heard about the disorder, but they still agree to see a doctor. She sobs on her mother’s lap until she falls asleep.
The next day her father uses his many contacts to get a hold of a doctor who can diagnose her. He lives two hours away and charges almost four figures for the test. But her parents still take her.
The doctor explains the disorder to them in detail, and makes sure that they all get it before doing his test on her. Heather knows what the diagnose will be from just the explanation, but it’s still hard hearing it. The doctor confirms that she has dyslexia and explains her parents what can be done. He suggests mostly the same things Billy had told her.
The ride home’s silent. Heather feels like she’s not even there. Still, it’s comforting knowing that whatever’s wrong with her head has a name.
She doesn’t go to Jason’s party.
Both Sandy and Angie call her but she doesn’t answer, she spends her Sunday morning being comforted by her parents, the afternoon deciding how to deal with this situation and the evening baking cookies for Billy. Her mother says that it’s important to show you’re grateful with someone when they do something nice. It shows what’s the desired response. Heather feels like they’re training a dog but agrees because her mom manages her father’s relationships behind the scenes, and she’s always done a good work with it. Besides, she does want to do something nice for Billy.
She tells the girls about it on their way to school. Sandy’s seen her struggle with reading for too many years and so has Angie. She wants them to know the why. She needs them to know she’s not stupid, she’s just not designed to read.
“So, is there a cure or something?” Angie asks. Heather can tell they don’t really understand what she just told them. But they’re trying.
“No, it’s not a disease,” She repeats the doctor’s words, “It’s just something I have to deal with.”
“Well, I’m glad that you have a name for it,” Sandy’s arms envelope her from the back seat.
“Yeah, that’s good,” Angie agrees, her hand rests on Heather’s knee for a moment before going back to the gear lever. “It’s also really impressive of Billy,” she comments.
“Totally,” Sandy squeals, her slender arms are still wrapped around Heather’s neck. The strong muscle on them presses her against the seat.
“Yeah, it was.”
The three of them stay on the parking lot waiting for the blue beast to appear. They wait until the little tomboy’s skating away to surround Billy.
He looks amused by their ambush, “Ladies,” he says with a smirk.
Heather jumps to hug him as tight as she can. Billy makes a surprised noise at how tight that actually is.
“I went to the doctor with my parents,” her voice is muffled by his jacket, she takes the tiny plastic bag with Angie's gift, that’s tucked on her hand and puts it inside Billy’s pocket masking it as a caress, “Thank you,” Heather gives him her biggest smile and hands him a bag full of cookies.
Billy blinks at her. He looks around at all the eyes observing the scene before giving her a wink.
“You’re welcome, H.”
-o-o-o-
“Here,” Heather says as she hands Billy a joint and opens the window.
They’re on her studio. It's been two weeks since they started this.
Billy gives her a questioning look but takes the joint from her nevertheless.
“You’re a better tutor when you aren’t in a bitchy mood,” she explains.
Billy rolls his eyes. He lights the joint with a deep inhale.
“You wanna talk about whatever happened?” she asks. In her experience, Billy never wants to talk, but hope dies last.
Billy takes another three hits, two of which he exhales right on her face. Heather pushes at his shoulder in annoyance.
It pulls a smoky chuckle out of him. He concentrates on making rings of smoke for a moment, letting the weed's effect settle, before answering.
“Max’s useless mother burnt the turkey,” he says absentmindedly.
Heather pops her gum. She still doesn’t know much about Billy’s situation. She just knows the stuff that’s public knowledge.
His father remarried to Max’s mom. Billy says he doesn’t like either of the redheads. The little tomboy has a temper.
That’s about it.
“You want some of mine?” Her mother made a 9 kg one and they still have a lot of leftovers.
“Nah,” Billy says, he’s reviewing Heather’s answers to the practice history test he made for her.
Heather observes him for a moment. For the first time in a week, Billy’s wearing a normal t-shirt that actually covers his chest.
She has the feeling he’s mad about more than just a burnt Thanksgiving dinner.
Billy hands her back the test, she got 8/10 right which is the best she’s ever done.
“Awesome, thanks,” she kisses his cheek in gratitude. Billy shoves her off, but there’s no real force on it.
“This,” he points her whole “Is why people think we’re fucking.”
Heather chuckles. She takes the joint from Billy and takes a hit before giving it back.
“Am I ruining your game?” she teases.
“You know you are,” Billy deadpans.
And yes, Heather knows. She knows because no boys have tried to ask her out no matter how many times she’s said she and Billy aren’t together. She’s been enjoying the reprieve.
“Does it truly bother you?” Heather knows she’s being selfish. She’s using Billy in so many ways, she’s paying for some but she’s truly interfering with Billy’s possibilities of getting a girl.
“Does it bother me that everyone thinks we’re fucking even though we aren’t?” Billy repeats sarcastically.
“Yes?”
“Why wouldn’t it?” Billy’s walls go up in a blink despite the weed.
Heather licks her lips. She’s been watching the way Billy looks at Steve. While the blond’s no longer pulling his pigtails, he still tries to get his attention in his own way. And Heather’s noticed at least three occasions in which Billy’s loud behavior attracts everyone’s attention right before Steve walks by. He always comes up with something when Tommy and Jason look like they’re going to go after the brunet. Heather could almost call his behavior sweet.
“It doesn’t bother me,” Heather shrugs.
Billy snorts.
“Of course it doesn’t,” he gestures with his hands, “you’re the girl, and you’re getting all the benefits while doing nothing. I’m the one who isn’t getting anything.”
“But you don’t want to hook up with me,” Heather says. It still pricks her ego to admit it, but it’s a small sacrifice for a little peace.
“Not the point,” Billy states.
“Do you want to hook up with other girls?”
“The fuck you’re implying?” Billy’s glaring at her. His hands are curled in fists.
“I don’t want to hook up with guys,” Heather confesses. Her heart is beating so hard it actually hurts.
Billy stares at her.
“If you’re trying to tell me you’re in love with me or some other bullshit Holloway, I swear to God I’ll-“
“I’ve never wanted to hook up with guys.” She interrupts him. There’s a ringing in her ears that somehow still isn’t loud enough to drown out the pounding of her heart, just loud enough to give her a headache.
Billy gapes at her.
“So what? Are you a dyke?” he spits. It hurts to hear it but Heather just nods, “Why the fuck are you telling me this?”
“You know why,” she pleads. She knows what she’s seen. She knows she isn’t imagining the glint in Billy’s eyes every time he talks about his dyslexic “friend”. She knows she isn’t imagining the way he stores every piece of new information he gets of Steve. She knows, but she needs to hear it.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Billy’s chair falls to the floor with the force of how quickly he stands. He looks ready to bolt, but Heather stops him with a hand on his arm. Billy’s momentarily frozen in place, he looks at her hand like he’s surprised about both her fastness and her strength.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Billy starts to pull away but she holds him in place with a bruising force born out of sheer panic, “I won’t tell anyone, because if anyone finds out they’ll kill me.” It’s the first time she’s ever admitted it to anyone, including herself. But that doesn’t make it any less true. She tightens her fingers on Billy’s arm to the point it's painful for both of them. “I don’t know how it was on Cali, but here, they’ll kill me. I don’t have anyone here who knows. And neither do you.”
“Leave me alone, you crazy cunt,” Billy tries to rip his arm free from her but only succeeds on hauling her towards him, “Let me go!”
“No!” she screams, too, “You know what I’m talking about, Billy, don’t pretend like you don’t,” Billy’s upper lip curls in a dangerous sneer, she doesn’t back down, “Don’t shun me out,” she says, Billy taught her that word, “This,” she lifts his trapped arm, “this is the perfect arrangement, think about it, I’m beautiful, I’m popular and I’m great in bed, no one will question why you’re going steady with me,” Billy tries to free himself again, but it lacks the strength of his other tries. She’s getting to him, “We won’t ever have to fuck, and we’ll be free of them.” Billy still seems unsure so she decides to better her offer, “And I can get you anything you want from Angie without you having to fuck her. Anything.”
That seems to make the trick. Billy goes pliant under her.
“We’re on equal ground here,” Heather says, “If you rat me out, they’ll kill me, same with you. No one’s going to do anything stupid, right?”
“You’re fucking insane, Holloway,” he says, but this time he isn’t trying to get away from her so she lets him go. He picks the joint and lights it again, “For the record, this doesn’t mean I’m admitting anything.”
Heather nods. Billy takes a deep hit and lets it out through his nose.
“Shit, you’re strong for a chick,” he says, his forearm is a bright red.
“I’m a cheerleader,” Heather answers.