AT LAST, I COULD BREATHE | billy hargrove

i'm fine.

chapter song: Flaws - Bastille

i'm fine.

"Billy?"

"Hmm?" He looked up from his place in the book he was pretending to read, The Great Gatsby.

"You look anxious, are you okay?"

"I don't look anxious," he snapped quickly. I rolled my eyes at his lame attempt to change his facial expression.

"Look, if you're nervous about me meeting your parents, don't worry, parents love me," I joked. The day after Billy and I made up, he wanted to get me caught up on the stuff from the two days of school I missed. I saw right through it and knew he just wanted an excuse to hang out since we hadn't in a fucking minute, so we decided to kick it at his place.

Billy's face held it's stoic position and I cocked my head to the side in confusion.

"Do you not have faith in me?" I asked while pouting.

"Bo, can you please just shut the fuck up?" He yelled, exasperated.

"Okay, I'll be extra nice to the parents. Y'know, you could talk to me about whatever's bothering you instead of being a defensive douchebag about it."

"And you could stop talking altogether instead of being a pushy bitch about it."

I rolled my eyes at his insult. Maybe his parents were just real hardasses.

Just then, we heard the front door squeak open and then slam shut. I looked over to Billy, who was avoiding my gaze but his eyes were everywhere. His hands twiddled and the mood of the room instantly changed to one of pure and unbridled anxieties.

"William!" A voice boomed from down the hall, presumably the kitchen. Billy looked like someone kicked his puppy as he got up from his place on the bed, walked past me, and out into the kitchen. I didn't follow him because I assumed he was gonna get yelled at, but I stood in the doorway of his bedroom to listen.

"Didn't I ask you to do the dishes?"

"Susan did," Billy corrected.

"Then why isn't it done?" The intense voice asked, clearly getting angry.

There was a bit of silence before Billy answered. "I was out with a friend and then we came back here to study."

"Is this friend a female?"

"Could be."

"I really, really don't have time for your sarcasm, now, William. And how—"

There was a loud crash and something hit a wall with a shit ton of force because it shook the house. Who I assumed to be Mr. Hargrove started to raise his voice.

"How many times have I told you, boy," smack, "You do not neglect your family for another," smack, "Fucking," smack, "Whore!"

Before I even knew what I was doing, I started to run down the hall, and the sight before me brought tears to my eyes. Billy's whole personality and character all of a sudden came together in my mind. Everything about him suddenly made perfect sense.

Mr. Hargrove looked at me with a ferocity I'd seen all too familiarly as I witnessed him abusing his only son. He had Billy pinned up against the kitchen wall with his left hand, while his right rested by his side—red as a tomato. The left side of Billy' face had a crimson, outlined handprint on it. As I further noticed all of these things in horrible detail, the tears spilled over the brim.