Definitely Not Gay (Harringrove)

Over

Billy

No fucking way. What a prick.

I got home at midnight last night. Everyone was already in bed. Thank god.

But I haven't stopped thinking about Steve. I may have jerked off in the shower, imagining his warm skin caressing mine. But he never needs to know that.

I guess we're done. Just like all the countless girls I've been with. We fuck and forget about it. God, I wish I could forget him. But he's been the only thing on my mind these past few days.

I honk the horn, impatiently waiting for Max. She comes skidding out the door.

"You know, for someone who skips more classes than he actually goes to, you seem to care a lot about being on time," she says, flopping down in the passenger seat.

"I'm really not in the mood, Max," I say, a mixture of a hangover headache and a stress headache throbbing in my ears.

We drive in silence to her middle school. The low rumble of the car is not helping my
headache. I drop Max off and drive to school.

I park and make my way inside as the crowds part for me. I feel a smile creep onto my face. Steve may have the peaceful home and the pretty girl, but he doesn't have the power of popularity. At least, nothing like me. People like Steve. But they love me.

It feels oddly freeing to be over my random obsession with him. As long as I have the revenge of living better, I've won.

Our awkward history is behind us. A drunken mistake, followed by confusion. That's all it was. Now it's over and I can finally move on with my life. At last.

Damn it, I wanted to fuck him.

No. No. I'm done. We had our weird moment on his couch. And maybe his bed the day before? I don't know, I was drunk for that part. But either way, been there done that.

Time to move on to greener pastures. Steve Harrington is just another body, used and discarded.

I need to get laid so I can move on. I flash a smile at several girls as I pass them by, surveying the options. Who's next?

I can feel all eyes on me. It feels good to be admired and envied.

Oh, shit. There he is. Looking like a train wreck as always. Beautiful hair, pristine outfit, but feral eyes. I don't understand how someone with a perfect life constantly looks like he's going through some heavy shit.

We make eye contact. Fuck, I was planning on avoiding him all day. Should I say something? No. He's a stranger now.

That's stupid. I can't pretend he's a stranger. He's too familiar. Too much like home to me.

What the fuck has he done to me?

I turn away, planning on putting some distance between me and his soft gaze.

I'm startled to see a girl standing in front of me. She's short and cute with wavy brown hair. She is surrounded by friends and holding a poster.

"Billy Hargrove, you can take off my thong as long as you take me to prom!"

Gross. What the fuck?

Her friends throw confetti at me. I am so caught off guard, I almost laugh and walk away.

But there he is. Harrington. Watching me with his doe eyes. Fingers turned white as he curls them tightly around his textbooks.

"I know it's not traditional for a girl to ask a boy, but... since when are you traditional, Billy Hargrove," the girl says, slapping my shoulder.

I know I've slept with her, but I can't remember her name. I think she was the one with the handcuff kink. I hated that.

She put a lot of effort into her sign. It's pink with girly bubble letters and glitter. She glued a thong to it. Christ, I hate it here.

No way in hell am I going to prom with this creepy bitch. But...

He looks so sad. Like he's begging me with his eyes to say no. Your turn is over, Harrington. I'm done with your games. This girl may be a wild card, but she knows what she wants.

With eyes locked on Steve, glaring into his cold soul, I nod. "Yes, I'll go to prom with you."