renegade - e. munson

goodbye, billy

   BILLY WAS MY friend. Or at least as much of a 'friend' he could be with anyone in Hawkins. I didn't quite believe it myself. The word friend felt reserved for someone you would giggle with and share secrets late at night under the covers or go spend the day at a theater together and eat popcorn until you both got sick. Billy wasn't that kind of friend. He was the kind of friend that shared the same kind of darkness. A friend that knew the horrible truth about my past and never blinked an eye or drowned in me in pity. He didn't view me as weak or broken and never attempted to fix me. Billy made me strong.

   And that's what I liked. I liked talking to him about how my dad was before we moved to Hawkins, Indiana. My stories weren't met with tears or speeches informing me that the way my dad treated me and my family was wrong. Crying like they were the ones affected. Talking like they knew anything about what we went through. But Billy knew. He understood.

   I felt free in his understanding.

   I met Billy a week after he joined Hawkins High.

   Friday after school I was stuck in Ms. O'Donnell's classroom attending detention. I had been late to her class three days in a row. Perhaps it wouldn't have been such a big deal if I hadn't snapped at her when she sarcastically greeted me, saying "Oh, Ms. Henderson, we were all waiting to see when you would show", and I replied, "You're lucky I'm even here." I regretted it the minute I said it. She didn't deserve that.

   I learned later that Billy got detention for ignoring the gym teacher. "Miserable old pervert," Billy said, pulling a cigarette pack out of the front pocket of his jeans. He had been getting too rowdy in the gym and the teacher kept warning him to knock it off. Billy couldn't help himself though. He got a kick making people fall to their knees. Enjoyed making them watch as he shot the basket over them. He acted like a new dog in a kennel, desperate to dominate the pack he was forced to play with.

   Billy was a winner. He always won. He needed to win.

   There was only me, Billy, and a couple of freshmen that ended up having detention that evening. For the next two hours, I sat in the hard school seat, saying nothing and occasionally doodling in my notebook, trying to figure out if Ms. O'Donnell was still mad at me or if she actually did accept the apology I gave to her at the end of class. Sitting there for two hours stewing over my guilt I think eradicated me of any further punishments.

   When detention ended I quickly exited the school and made my way straight to my car. A beat-up army green Honda Accord my Uncle gave me when he bought himself a Porche. I fumbled to get the keys out of my bag. My brain was too preoccupied imaging the look of disappointment on my mom's face when she learned where I was. I found my keys but hesitated to unlock the door. My attention was now on the scene going on a few cars in front of me. 

   "First fucking week here and you get detention," the voice coming from the older man held no sympathy. Just pure anger and disappointment.

   I couldn't help it. Even with the keys in my hand, I watched as Billy tried to open up the locked passenger side door. The older man had his hand gripping the back of Billy's jean jacket so that Billy was forced to be close to him. Billy refused to look at the man whose cursed words plagued him. 

   "A fucking embarrassment," the man continued, pulling Billy in closer so that his mouth was practically covering Billy's ear. Close enough to whisper, but he continued to shout. "How do you think it looks for me when I have to tell Susan that Max's new big brother got detention for -"

   "I'm not her big brother," Billy quickly interjected.

   The man laughed and finally let go of Billy's jacket, but there was no amusement in his voice when he commanded, "Say that shit again."