dollhouse // billy hargrove

three

heather's pov

while walking to my first period, i ran into someone. without looking up, i knew that familiar, raspy voice that startled and scrutinized me.

billy hargrove.

"i'm so, so sorry. i have just been so stressed about school and all the testing coming up, obviously, i'm not on top of my feet, because if i were i would not have run int-" i lie apologetically. it was not school, it was never school. i was abruptly stopped.

"i didn't ask for your life story. regardless, what could possibly be wrong in your oh so perfect life? you are a straight a student, involved with sports, and everyone loves you." he snarled counting on his fingers, looking back at me.

the aroma of cigarettes and denim filled the air. it was his scent that nearly everyone recognized the moment he stepped into the room. his dirty blonde, curled hair laid over his deep, blue eyes, covering something that looked like a cut. another fight, typical of billy. it wasn't unusual to see billy coming to school with cuts or bruises all over him. it was just who he was. a violent asshole.

i never snapped back at people, but something about billy always got me so riled up, i could not just let him treat me like every other kid at this school. like shit.

"it's not my fault you don't even attempt to try in school, so don't ever put that blame on me and act like i'm so much better when you could be the same. also, just a tip, maybe people would like you too if you were not such an asshole all of the time. try something for once in your life that is not damaging to others or yourself. just try." i could feel tears trying to break their way through because i felt sorry for him, but i still hated him, so i didn't allow them to fall past my waterline.

he seems drawn back by the fact someone actually talked back to him in a non-obedient way. i gaze down, trying not to make eye contact with his fury filled eyes and notice his hand is dripping blood.

even though billy gets on my nerves, he really needs to stop getting into fights and hurting himself. because no one deserves to be hurting and i mean that. i have been through it and i would never wish it on my worst enemy, even if my worst enemy is billy hargrove.

"let me help you clean that up," i say pointing to his blood-covered palm.

"now all of a sudden you want to help me?" he scoffs in my face.

"i'm sorry i ran into you, okay? just let me help, i'm trying to become a nurse, be my first patient." i laugh, trying to get him to trust me, only because he clearly can't take care of himself.

he complies. i lead him to the water fountain where i can help wash him up.

"this may hurt a bit, okay?" he nods and i take his cut hand, significantly larger than mine, into my hand. i dip it under the water gently. i look up into his eyes to see how he's reacting so i know whether to keep going or not. "okay, we are almost done." i reassure him.

every other time i have talked to him in the past, i couldn't read through his eyes, they just always looked angry. this time was different. his eyes didn't look like they were in pain, they just looked numb. no feelings at all.

"now, i need you to stay here while i get some toilet paper. i am supposed to use cloth, but we do not have that, so toilet paper will have to do." i rush to the bathroom in case he decides to run off on me.

i wonder how he got the cut on his hand. it looked as if it was a knife cut, but also could have been glass. really anything. i don't want to ask him because i don't want him losing trust in me, if he even had any to begin with, for questioning everything. but then again, why do i care as much as i do right now?

i come back with handfuls of toilet paper and to my surprise, he's still there. standing in the same spot i told him to be in. he never listens. but he did.

i wrap up his hand thickly with toilet paper, although it was only the cheap one ply.

"this will do for now. take care of yourself, billy. stop getting into fights. at least for the time being, this cut is going to take a while to heal."

"i appreciate it, but i don't need you telling me what to do. i'm not seven years old anymore." he pauses. "although i wish i was."

billy seems off today. first, his eyes, all the cuts, and he is actually talking to me. the person he despised most. but here i am also talking to him, the person that i despised most. this isn't the billy hargrove i know or thought i knew.

"wait, billy. let me wipe off the cut on your cheek," i suggest taking the leftover wad of toilet paper and dipping it into the water fountain, soaking it.

i move his hair from covering his mesmerizing eyes and dab at the wound, washing away any dirt to make sure it doesn't get infected, caressing his rough face with the other hand.

out of nowhere i hear nancy's voice from behind me, "never once have i thought i would see you two actually getting along."

i quickly turn around, with the blood-filled toilet paper clump in my hand, and explained why i was even near him, "i accidentally ran into him in the hallway and then i noticed his hand was bleeding so i helped him clean it up an-"

billy's rough voice interrupts me, "i didn't need help."

"so you were close to his face because.." nancy drifts off.

i move to the side to show billy's face to nancy, still displaying the bloody tissues to prove my point.

her smile slowly fades away, "billy, are you sure you're okay?" she asks.

"i'm fucking fine," he growls back. numbness disappears from his eyes and the anger returns.

the first bell rings and nancy can not be late. she never has been. she looks down and disappears into the crowd of high schoolers.

now it is just billy and i, once again.