This Means War // Billy Hargrove x Reader

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

"Nancy!" You huff, storming into your twin sister's room and seeking out the resident, who was perched on her bed with study cards between her fingertips. "Where the fuck is my jacket?"

"First of all, knock. Second of all, why would I ever wear that rag of cigarette ash and leather you call fashion?" She retorts, not bothering to peer up at you from above her cards as she moves to lay on her front on her bed. 

You'd been through hell together with everything that happened last year and you'd always have her back no matter what but borrowing your clothes? Going in your room? Death was the only justified punishment for such treasonous acts - but you were feeling merciful, just this once. "Just... Keep out of my room," you slam her door on your way out and hear the exasperated grunt she throws your way in response. 

Heading back to your own room, you close out the world and turn up your music, rifling through the clothes on the floor again and --- oh. The jacket was right there. Guess mostly wearing black was starting to not work so well for you.

Oh well. 

Slipping it over your plain white tee, your chains dangle around your neck as you ruffle your hair - a failed attempt to give it some body with the limited time you had before school. "(Y/N)--" Your mom knocks as she opens the door, defeating the entire point of the knocking, and is about to address you when she notices the state of your room. "Oh my god, did a bomb go off in here?"

"I'll deal with it later, mom." You grumble, rolling your eyes against the suspected oncoming lecture. It never arrives thankfully as she just sighs and shakes her head a fraction in disappointment. "I'd like you home for dinner tonight, please. You never spend time with us anymore, we miss you."

A snort sounds between you, the culprit of it being yourself as you turn to face her, your school bag hanging loosely and forgotten in your grip. "Come on, mom. You make it sound as though I'm never home. Besides, you're literally the only person who gives a sh--- damn. Who gives a damn." You correct yourself at the stern glare she'd begun to shift onto her features at the mere threat of a swearword. 

"So do it for me." She claims, stepping closer to push loose curls from your face. She tucks a strand behind your ear and pets your cheek, making you feel like you were five all over again. "Okay," you mutter quietly, knowing it was easier to accept defeat in this instance. 

It would mean she wouldn't be as annoyed when you stayed out all night tomorrow night at the Halloween party getting wasted - or so you'd hoped. 

"(Y/N)! Steve's here!" Nancy calls upstairs and you shoot your mom a knowing look, telling her it was time for you to go to school before your asshole sister made her boyfriend leave without their tag-along. You drove, it was just cheaper to carpool with Nancy and Steve to school since it meant you rarely had to buy gas. 

Plus you hated driving. It wasn't that you couldn't do it, it was just so boring. Being a passenger was far better suited to you.

"Bye, mom. Love you." You sling your bag over your shoulder on your way out, taking the stairs two at a time and almost elbowing Nancy on your way out of the door. "Morning, Harrington." You smile at Steve and clap a hand to his shoulder in greeting as you tumble into the backseat. "Wheeler." He retorts, looking over his shoulder to check for injury.

You liked Steve a lot - in an older brother kind of way. He treated Nancy well and seemed to have a good heart, regardless of what a dick he'd been before all this business with the 'Upside Down' last year. 

Trauma certainly had a way of changing people, that was for sure. 

Not you though. You stuffed any residual mental effects of the incident far down; swallowed whole and kept behind a beautiful wall inside your mind.

The drive to school was mostly quiet since Nancy was buttoned shut reading an essay Steve had written for a college application. "Going to Tina's Halloween party, (Y/N)?" Steve asks, eyeing you in his mirror in quick glances between you and the road. 

"Obviously. Are you guys? Doesn't strike me as your vibe." You wait until Steve looks back at you once more before gesturing to Nancy with your eyes, pulling a face that almost makes him laugh so he purses his lips a moment before answering. "We might go. Aren't sure yet, are we?" He turns to Nancy at the last part, directing the question to her instead.

"Umm, no." She mumbles as she reads, flipping a page in her complete lack of interest in whatever you and Steve had been talking about. "Well, don't find me when you get there. I plan to get blackout drunk and make out with some assholes in weird costumes." You smile to yourself at the image, letting out a low sigh as you turn to lay across the backseat, feet dangling out the open window. 

"Gross." Is the only thing you hear, not entirely sure who from, as you begin to doze on the backseat. It wasn't a long drive to school by any means, but you were exhausted and wanted to get in as much sleep as you could before arriving at the gates of hell - Hawkins Highschool.

You were in a sleepy daze, half awake and half asleep as Steve pulls up, just listening to Nancy tell Steve her notes on his essay, sunglasses draped over your eyes to block out the blinding sunlight coming through the window.

Tension flows into the air as you tune back into the conversation the other two had been having, Steve pulling the essay back and scrunching it up as your twin urged him to calm down. You were too tired to comment, so settle simply for listening right now. 

Then they start kissing and muttering declarations of love and --- ugh. 

A roar, almost animalistic and yet entirely mechanical sounds in the air, cutting your actions off as you'd bolted up to stop the romancing before you. You were grateful, but also curious as to the source of the noise, as were Steve and Nancy who step out of the car to get a better look. You do the same, resting your hand atop the roof of Steve's car.

A blue Camaro housing a blonde and a redhead from what you could tell pulls up across the lot, music drifting from it and into your ears as you narrow your eyes in bewilderment. New students? A rarity in this town. 

The driver steps out, clad in denim on denim with a scruffy blonde mullet, and the young redhead in the passenger seat steps out just after and skateboards over to the middle school. 

Adjusting your sunglasses, you catch a closer look as best you can from the distance without trying to seem too obvious. "You're catching flies," Your sister comments, lips set in an amused grin as you close your mouth and send a middle finger salute her way. You find your glance slipping back over his way as he walked into the school though, watching with absent curiosity about this fine new specimen to grace this small town.

Goddamn.