lover boy

eight

I lay across Billy's bed and he tells me something about alkaline metals and something else. I stare at his ceiling, thinking of literally anything other than chemistry. Like how I haven't had a cigarette in two weeks, how Dustin has been distant lately, and my kisses with Billy and Steve. How Steve hasn't been answering my phone calls recently.

"Are you even listening to me anymore?" I hear Billy's slightly frustrated voice.

I sit up and stare at him, "Of course!"

He raises an eyebrow at me, "Then what did I just say?"

Shit.

What did he say? It had to do with Chemistry, well no shit Sherlock. I begin to feel guilty, poor Billy has been taking time to teach me and I won't even pay attention.

I guess he could tell by my lost look, that I didn't know. "Alright, lets take a break."

"I'm sorry." I smile sheepishly.

He furrows his eyebrows, "Don't apologize. We've been studying for two hours, anyway." He gets up and goes to his window, opening it up. Billy rummages through his desk drawers and pulls out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. My throat goes dry, as I watch him light it and take a drag. I stare at the cigarette in between his fingers.

"Do you want one?" Billy laughs at my trance over the cigarette. I think about how proud Steve was at my quitting, but what he doesn't know won't kill him. I nod my head and walk over to Billy, I take a cigarette from the pack and put it between my teeth. That action alone, already relieves my stress. Billy picks up the lighter and lights the cancer stick between my teeth.

I take a drag and feel the nicotine enter my system, I slowly exhale and close my eyes in pure bliss. I hear Billy chuckle and I slightly shove him.

"Shut up, I haven't had one in two weeks." I laugh.

He nods his head, "Right, wasn't pretty boy making you quit." I assume he's referring to Steve, and roll my eyes.

"He wasn't making me quit, it was my choice." I say taking another drag.

"Ah." Billy simply says and stares out his window.

"Why do you guys hate each other anyway?" I ask, the question I've been wanting to know forever.

He shakes his head, "Ask him."

"Well, I'm asking you."

He laughs, "He's very protective over you."

I furrow my eyebrows. Why would Steve be protective over me? Obviously he doesn't care enough to even answer my calls.

"Ever since smarty pants dropped him, you're his focus. I'm surprised you haven't noticed." Billy cocks his head smiling at me.

"Then why do you hate him?"

"I don't like people telling me what I can and can't have." Billy steps closer to me, he places his hand on my waist and the other on my cheek.

What does he mean, can and can't have? I'm not a thing he can just claim.

"I'm not an object, Billy." I say, and his face softens.

"I never said you were." He leans in, waiting for a kiss.

"But you talk of me like I am." I say, keeping the distance between us.

He presses my body against his, "You are no object, Diana Henderson." He says before closing the distance between us.

Our lips dance together, but I pull away when the smell of burnt hair fills my nostrils. I gasp when I see my hair singed from Billy's cigarette.

"I'm so sorry! I should've put it down befor-"

He stops talking when he sees me overwhelmed by laughter. The whole scenario was just so funny to me.

I shake my head trying to hold in my laughs, "It's fine."

He runs his fingers through the shorter singed pieces and shakes his head, laughing. I admire his genuine laugh, it's hearty and contagious. This boy is trouble.

After a couple more minutes, the laughter dies down and we're standing in silence blowing our smoke out the window. I grow bored of my cigarette, and rub it into the ashtray on the windowsill. Billy stays in his position and watches me as I lay down on his bed. It only takes him a couple of seconds to put his cigarette out and join me on his bed. We lay on our backs, shoulder to shoulder. I can feel how tense he is laying next to me which I find strange because I know I'm not the first girl that's laid next to him in this bed. To ease his tenseness, I reach my hand between us and interlace his fingers in mine.

He gives me hand a light squeeze, and my heart flutters.

I feel my eyelids grow heavy, after fighting the battle of keeping them open, I let them close, resting my eyes for a little.