POISON - Billy Hargrove

- Two -

"Lady Henderson!" a familiar voice called out. "We're over here today!"

The cafeteria was filled with chatter, making it difficult for Melanie to focus on finding her friends. She puffed a ball of air in her mouth while her eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Steve and Co. She sat at the end of the table, the others scooching down to create space for her.

"I'm not a Henderson," she laughed. "I'm only related to one."

"Close enough. Also not in the mood for today's mystery meat, eh?" he said, nodding towards the table's identical, sandwich cafeteria lunches.

"Not particularly," she laughed. "Give me your pickle."

"At least take me to dinner first," he gasped, causing Melanie to pretend to gag.

Steve was a good looking guy. He had a small face, which made his upwards swooped, mousy brown hair look even fuller. His laughter soon dulled and amber eyes fixed behind her. As she turned to investigate, Billy Hargrove, in all his glory, leaned against the cafeteria table. A small, sandy-blonde coil fell on his forehead, between his eyes, as he looked down at them.

"What do you want, Hargrove?" Steve's spat.

"I'm just here to check on the girl I didn't hit with my car this morning," he smirked, eyeing Melanie up and down.

"So that was you?" Melanie huffed before taking a sip of her drink.

"Mmhm," Billy hummed. "You didn't recognize my car, babe?" He reached towards Melanie's lunch tray, but she pulled it away.

"I really don't pay that much attention to you," she replied honestly. Oftentimes, words fell from her mouth without her being aware of her tone. She wasn't trying to be snarky; she truly didn't pay attention to the daily affairs of Hawkins' new resident asshole. The other girls in town had it covered. Small, stifled snickers filled the table, and Melanie looked up at Billy sweetly. "Sorry."

"Sure thing, sweetheart," he nodded, attempting to recover. He eyed her up and down again, before his eyes fixated at her chin. "Nice zit, by the way," he said slowly, the words just barely rolling off the tip of his tongue.

"Nice ass," she retaliated quickly, peeking down behind him and back up again.

Billy's tongue flicked over his lips, and he let out a short, huff of a laugh through his nose before walking away.

"Nice ass?" Steve questioned. Melanie peered back over at Billy quickly. "So much for 'I don't pay much attention to you,'" he added.

"I don't," she defended herself, "but am I wrong? Look at it go."

He caught her staring, and she stuck up her middle finger.

Billy Hargrove typically wore different variations of the same outfit. A buttoned-down shirt with the top buttons undone, tucked into fitted denim jeans, and a denim or leather jacket over it all. An earring dangled from his left ear, a chain around his neck, and a cigarette at his lips.

Billy had very quickly taken over Hawkins' that year, much to Steve's dismay. In less than two full months, Billy had swiped his crown as "Hawkins' King," leaving Steve grasping at straws to stay on top. The girls that had previously thrown themselves at Steve now couldn't be farther up Billy's ass if they tried. Melanie, however, didn't seem to care much - not that she didn't think he was attractive. That's the thing; he was. He was very attractive.

Melanie's entire high school experience, however, could be summed up as "please, I'm just trying to survive." She tip-toed on the line between popular and a nobody, sweet and a punk. In fact, she toed at the lines of a lot of your typical high-school cliques. She wouldn't be remembered, but she wouldn't be forgotten either.