Smells Like Teen Angst (M. Wheeler) REWRITTEN

Harringrove Interlude 2

I know. I suck.

But you see, my brain is fried 99% of the time (I mean that figuratively and literally) so my creative juices are severely, um, lacking....

Actually they're basically nonexistent at this point. It's pretty concerning and I'm trying to fix it but it's a slooooooowwwwwww process as you can tell—and this next coming chapter is BITING MY ASS because I know exactly what I need to write but my lazy ass fingers won't write it. So yeah. There's that too.

Until then, please enjoy this little snippet, it's not much, but it's all I currently got for u guys unfortunately I am sorry, again I will try to fix this soon.

Let the bull commence (another friendly reminder that once again, Billy don't like Nancy whatsoever, mkay, keep that in mind)

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"So, Harrington," Billy said causally, as if they weren't playing the game. "I heard you used to run this school. King Steve they called you, right?" The mullet head grinned. "Then you turned bitch."

Steve glowered. "Hey, how about you shut up and just play the game, huh?" He tossed over his shoulder, glaring at his offending opponent who was literally plastered to his back right now.

Billy shrugged. "Just what I heard," he said, while simultaneously blocking Steve. "From, yknow....everybody. But hey, what do they know?"

Steve's scowl deepened and his emotions were whirling. Billy took that moment to steal the ball from him, shoving him out of the way in the meanwhile. Harrington fell on his ass—funnily enough—allowing Billy to easily score a basket for his team. The meatheads cheered at him, but they were all easily impressed. None of these losers would've lasted a minute during gym class at his old school. Scuff marks and blood were usually what had painted the gym floors after a "friendly" game of basketball.

Billy turned to Steve who was looking at him in annoyance. He smirked, licking his lips emphatically. God that boy looked sexy with his hair tousled, covered head to toe in sweat, panting like a dog—it was a bit of a turn on, he wouldn't lie. Billy bet he could make that look again; rock his shit in a completely different way.

Preferably with his—

He shook his head hard. No. None of that fag shit here, he promised himself for the sake of Dylan (and Max, he guessed) that if he hooked up with a guy, it would most certainly NOT be here or with anyone who belonged to this hick town. And it certainly wouldn't be preppy boy over here.

Besides, Steve was straight as an arrow.

He didn't always look like it, but he was, no doubt. And he was clearly in love with Wheeler, Billy could, disgustingly enough, literally smell how much he cared about her. It made him wanna throw up.

And also punch a certain brown-haired priss bitch, because Billy had not once gotten any kind of chemo-signal like that from her.

Speaking of the stupid bitch, she ended up showing up at the doorway, though this wasn't any surprise to Billy, he'd heard her coming. Steve clearly wasn't expecting her though, since he looked over at her with raised brows and an air of shock.

Then, like a lost puppy, went over to her when she called his name to beckon him.

Shit. Maybe he really had turned bitch.

Billy let out a loud sigh. Well. That was disappointing.

Billy couldn't help but wonder what King Steve was like; how they would've gotten on if Billy and his family moved a year earlier?

Of course, they wouldn't had to move if that stupid little bitch hadn't—

Billy let out a loud, frustrated grunt. It must've sounded about as violent as he suddenly felt because the people around him jumped and skidded away from him. Great. Was he oozing bloodlust again? Because that was something Billy really didn't need in his life at the moment.

It wasn't even like Billy wanted to kill Max—sure, he'd like to throw her in a rising river canal every now and then to shut her fucking mouth, but he's not....out for her blood. Billy didn't even know why he was bloodlusting right now. It must've been Miss Priss's fault, he was on edge every time he saw her. No matter what she did, the bitch just grated on his nerves incredibly.

Fuck if he knew why though.

"Okay, then tell me!"

Billy's brows shot up. Oh? Pretty boy sounded angry. Had the bitch finally pissed him off to his breaking point?

God, he hoped so. That would probably be fun to watch.

"Tell you what?" The stupid cunt asked, sounding a bit incredulous, as well as exasperated. The irony of it all nearly made Billy bark out a laugh.

"That you love me."

Wheeler stayed silent.

Fuck, that was rough. Billy even cringed a bit.

Steve let out a pained laugh.

"Wow, okay," he muttered, and Billy could hear his voice crack—fuck, he could hear his heart crack. Eesh. This was too pathetic for even Billy to find joy out of.

He grabbed some random boy on Harrington's team by the back of the shirt collar, yanking him none too gently back towards him. The boy sputtered and choked at the force but Billy really couldn't give a fuck about that.

"Oi," he said to the now nervous looking teen, "go get Harrington and tell him that if he doesn't get his pansy ass back inside the court within the next 30 seconds, then his team will be down by eighty."

He pushed the kid in the direction to where Harrington had disappeared off to, watching the little bitch try to hide the wobble in his legs as he ran. What a fucking chump. It was a shame that Harrington was heading his direction status wise.

All because of a priss bitch.

Billy sighed, shaking his head. That wouldn't do.

That would not do at all.

So yeah this was a bunch of compiled garbage like shit but I did what I could do. Again, sorry for late updating my brain is fried. Good day and good night.

-Someonewhoisnthere.