Don't Panic - B. Hargrove

TWO

Billy Hargrove despised Hawkins with all his heart. A small-town life wasn't meant for a boy born and raised in California, and he didn't want to come here in the first place. His father had decided to move out into Nowhere, where the houses were, and the schools were safe, and nobody was disobeying an order from the head of the family. Only his mother did.

When she left him with the violent old man to find peace without them, that was the only good thing. Nothing here reminded him of her. She was beautiful, a high-class woman with charms and a smile that could illuminate a room.

The women around here were more like cows: Simple, similar, and desperate. They were eating him up with his eyes as he left his car, their eyes glossy and their panties moist. It was too easy. He could just pick one without a chase or minimal effort. None of them was worthy of his time. Not them, not the freak that stared at him. So he ignored all of them as he strutted past, fueling the girls' interest even more.

They followed him like a swarm of bees, giggling and batting their long lashes. There was absolutely no thrill in that. He had over things to do anyway. He had plans. And that made him full of malicious joy just thinking about how he would push the basketball team's captain of his throne to claim it. Unlucky bastard.

But he would do anything to get the scholarship he needed to finally be free of his father and the new family he never wanted.

Hawkins High was just a stop on his way, something he had to settle with.
So he wasn't going to pay much of his special attention to the hallways, the curious gazes, or the secretary who provided him with his timetable and basketball schedule. And he didn't care enough to hurry to his first class, an advanced course he was stuck with, regardless of how much he hated the subject. He didn't have a choice anyways, so why bother?

He turned up for the second half of the third period, and the teacher wasn't motivated enough to say something about it. So Billy stood in front of the class, eyeing his peers without much interest.

A few girls of those who had watched him earlier, a few guys that looked him over skeptically. A smirk spread onto his lips. He was a thread, and they all were very aware of that.

"Well, introduce yourself." the teacher sighed heavily, putting the pain of underpayment in every word. He wanted to be here just as much as Billy did.

"Billy Hargrove. From California." the boy obeyed, rather annoyed but couldn't resist flashing a quick smirk at the ladies.

The teacher gestured for him to sit, and Billy lazily followed the order. There was one empty seat behind the freak who had stared at him earlier. Blue eyes followed his moves bluntly without much emotion, pale face blunt, not even the dark brows showing any sign of recognition.

He was looking right through him as if he was glass. A weird boy. Tiny. His shaggy bowl cut out of fashion, the knitted sweater way too big on the petite frame.

Billy resisted the urge to push over the skateboard that was leaning against the boy's desk and to shove into him just to see if he would collapse like a house of cards. But he just sat down at his new seat, spreading his legs as wide as possible while leaning back into the chair. He wanted to get over with this quickly and without much talking. But the weird boy didn't seem to understand the universal rejection he was displaying.

He turned around in his chair, slender, pale fingers grabbing onto its back as he looked at him.

"Welcome to Hawkins," he said, his voice barely there but surprisingly low and matter-of-fact.

It intensely irritated Billy how someone could be so plain. And to make matters worse, the boy smiled, but it never really reached his eyes. The first thing that came close to an actual emotion.