Middle Fingers Up // Billy Hargrove x Reader

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵

Billy had avoided you all day and you were silently grateful for it. Poking the tiger was not the smartest thing to do, but then he'd willingly done it to you so should have expected some comeback from it. He'd probably just expected you to be some prissy little girl who would cry about it and have her reputation ruined. 

That could never be you, though. You truthfully didn't have it in you to be like that, you were far too smart and independent to let men run your life. Besides, this was high school! Nothing really mattered that much since you'd all be leaving at some point anyway so you took everything on the chin and laughed it off where you could.

Still, the fact that he'd tried, the fact that he'd made up a vicious rumor about you just because he could? It did make you want to slash his tires, though you resist the urge.

"Honey, could you go get Jessica for me? She's over with Max but dinner is almost done," Your mom asks and you curse under your breath. You know who was also at Max's? Billy fucking Hargrove. 

"Sure, mom." You couldn't say no without telling her why you wanted to say no and that was just something you really didn't want to unleash. Slipping on your boots, you head over there and stand staring at the door for a long moment before you knock twice.

Maybe he won't be home, or his step-mom will answer or something, or-- your thoughts are cut off as the front door swings open to a sweat-covered Billy. He'd obviously been working out, muscles tense and straining against his skin and breath coming out in heavy pants. He didn't have a shirt on which wasn't shocking at all, and his shorts were low on his hips.

"Find what you were looking for?" He asks, noticing you checking him over and you meet his gaze which was fixed on you. "No, you don't look even remotely like my sister. Can you send her out?" 

There was a long pause before he looks over his shoulder and yells into the emptiness behind him, "Max! Jessica's sister is here."

"You know my name." You remind him, not at all amused at the pettiness of his not using it. He only smirks as he leans against the door-frame though, pinning you in place with his stare. "So, I guess I have you to thank for my lack of a date this evening." He says, but he didn't seem angry. If anything it was the opposite. You couldn't describe the expression he had but if you had to guess, he looked almost impressed.

"Hah! Baby, you have yourself to thank for that. And while we're on the subject-" You step closer, lowering your lashes and adopting the same feigned salacious look he was wearing himself that didn't at all match your words. "If you ever try to tell lies about me again, you can say goodbye to sex altogether because you'll have nothing left to perform the act with." You look down, gesturing to the middle of his shorts with your glance before footsteps enter the room. 

"Can't I stay five more minutes?" Your sister whines as you and Billy stare one-another down, the tension thick in the air as you wait for his response which takes a long while to come. "Yes, ma'am." 

"Let's go, Jess." You nod and take a step back, gesturing to your sister to leave. She complains so you harden your tone with her, attempting to seem as stern as your mother would in this situation. "Now."

She waves goodbye to Max and the pair of you leave. There was an unfamiliar feeling in your stomach that you couldn't shake off. It was almost fear, but with a twinge of anticipation. You shake your head, clearing whatever threatening thoughts were about to enter your brain and elect to talk to your sister about her time with Max instead.

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HAWKINS. WINTER 1984.

It had been months since the rumors spread at school and they'd long since dissipated. Billy had clearly gotten his dating life back to normal from how often he went out at night and nobody even cared if you slept with him or not anymore. If anything, it put the rumor about whether you were a virgin or not to bed -- poor word choice, but still. 

Christmas was right around the corner and you and Eddie were shopping for gifts for your respective families. You still always bought something for Wayne every year though, and Eddie insisted on buying gifts for your family too - Even Winston got a bone to slobber on every year.

He couldn't get much since money was tight for him despite his dealing but you kept hiding ten dollar notes in his room throughout November whenever you had one spare and since he was always high he'd just think it was one he forgot about and stuff it in his Christmas fund. It was like an extra little gift from you to him that he didn't have to know about. 

"Still on for Christmas Eve?" He asks as you slip a perfume bottle in your cart for your mom. "Eddie, you ask me that every year." You laugh, shaking your head at your friend. "We do the same thing every year. Of course I'm still on for it."

"Just checking." He raises his hands in defeat and tosses a baseball cap in the cart, you were guessing for Wayne. He had a collection going on and one of the walls in his trailer was covered in them. 

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When Christmas Eve finally rolled in, you were so happy. Going to Eddie's for it was almost the best part of the holiday and as you're leaving your mom reminds you to be home as early as possible in the morning so you could be there when your sister woke up.

You'd agreed, naturally, and then headed out to your bike. "Riding that death trap in this weather? That's brave." The familiar voice of your least favorite neighbor cuts in and you swirl on your heel to face him. "Want a ride instead?" He asks.

"No, thanks." You scoff, "Last time I got a ride from you I ended up the school harlot and you ended up with no girls drooling over you for a few weeks. Must have been tough." You tease, rolling your eyes. "Let's not revisit it."

"You're right." He steps closer to you, pulling his jacket further over his chest to shield him from the cold as he leaned against your bike. You notice the injuries to his face then, a swollen black eye and busted lip, and wonder how he got it. There was a loud fight from their place a couple of nights ago but you'd thought nothing of it until now, seeing him all beaten and bruised which made you almost feel bad for him. Almost.

You straddle your bike, holding your helmet in your hands as you wait for him to finish so you can leave. You had plans that you were eager to get to, after all. "I shouldn't have tried it on with you that night."

"No, you shouldn't have. You especially shouldn't have continued to then make everyone think something happened that didn't." You remind him, lids dropping to narrow a hard stare at the man before you. You weren't mad about it anymore, but he was leaving out important details in his... apology? It didn't feel like an apology but you couldn't work out what else it could be. He was so hard to read.

"I know." He assures you, which you figure is the closest you're going to get. Still, you can't help but tease him about it. It was your nature. "My god, someone alert the media. Does Billy Hargrove  feel bad about something?" 

"Always such a bitch, even when I'm trying to be nice," He scoffs, though there's a glint of amusement in his eyes. 

"Yeah, well if I ever felt like returning the favor, you wouldn't know how to handle it. Now get off my bike, I have places to be." You fix your helmet onto your head, clasping it beneath your chin.

He does as you ask, standing and stepping back with his hands raised. 

"Merry Christmas." You shout with a grin on your lips as you rev your engine, leaving him chuckling as you pull out of the driveway. 

That was possibly the first conversation - or at least the first you can recall - that you'd had with him in which it didn't end with you wanting to strangle him. Likely would be the last though. Once school started again, it was doubtful you could be nice to each other when stuck together for long enough. 

No, things would be just the same once you go back to school. You were sure of it.