If I Stare Too Long

Chapter 18: Such A Lovely Place (Such A Lovely Face)

"You got it, pretty boy!" Billy shouts.

He's not even sure Steve can hear him, but that doesn't stop Billy from whooping and hollering as Steve toodles back and forth on Billy's bike, a little unsure but remarkably steady.

Billy's sitting on an overturned milk crate camped out in the empty, abandoned parking lot of the crumbling wreck that used to be the Starcourt Mall, which is now mostly just a hole in the ground surrounded by razorwire and warning signs. It's not an exciting place to hang out, but the sprawling parking lot's perfect for their purposes and deserted as fuck—one of Hawkins' now untouchable tragedies.

Billy's been teaching Steve how to ride the bike for a little while now, long enough that the peak of the summer heat has passed and the days have gotten just a little shorter and a little more temperate.

That doesn't stop Eddie from complaining next to him, sprawled out in a patch of broken asphalt, arm slung over his face and shirt rucked up to his midriff.

"No one ever said you had to wear all black," Billy says, dragging his fingers over the sweaty skin of Eddie's belly.

His eyes never leave Steve, though. He's doing a slow circle around the two of them, Billy's bike rumbling happily between his legs. He looks more at ease, now—confident and competent.

Eddie grunts, but doesn't come out of hiding, catching at Billy's wrist blindly instead. Grips loose and drags Billy's hand over his chest.

"No one said summer was gonna last this long," Eddie grumbles.

Steve is still making lazy little loops around them, switching back around to lap the other direction after he gets bored going clockwise.

Billy is quiet for a little while, just relishing in the feeling of Eddie's fingers over his skin. The sight of Steve having fun. The ease of the day.

"You know," Billy says idly, as Eddie's thumb rubs right over Billy's pulse. "I thought summer would be fucking unbearable."

He takes a breath and swallows, eyes tracking over Steve as he mulls over his next words. They feel like a secret, something he never even really voiced to himself, much less to anyone else.

"I thought I'd be gone by the end of it," Billy says.

That makes Eddie squint up at him. Has him peering up from under the lazy sling of his arm, and then has him sitting up, hands bracing himself as he sits with his legs sprawled.

"Where were you gonna go?" Eddie asks.

Billy shrugs. He can see Eddie out of his peripheral vision, but he can't look at him, suddenly. It feels too close, too personal. It's easier to keep his eyes on Steve.

Important, too—at least, that's what he tells himself.

"California. Where else?"

Eddie lets out a little breath– a bit like he's winded. "You still thinkin' about it? California?"

Billy kicks a heel back against the milk crate and it creaks underneath his weight. Broken gravel crunches underneath the toe of his boot as it scrapes against the ground. Steve's still doing lazy circles around them, occasionally slowing down, speeding up, and testing himself and the bike as Billy told him to. Doing everything right.

"Nah," Billy says. And then, after a moment of silence like Eddie knows it's not the full truth: "I mean, yeah. Shit, always."

Billy finally breaks his gaze on Steve, but he doesn't look at Eddie—he looks up at the sky. Blue and sunny, such a nice and cloudless day.