Blondie Wannabe: A Billy Hargrove Fanfic

The Way of the Dragon

There's smut in this chapter, ** these will be around it.

I enjoyed the relaxation of Quaaludes, but could do without the giddiness, I realized. It made moments of anger or sadness almost nauseating because of the contradiction of my internal emotions and external stimuli. But, since my mother was sleeping in her room, I couldn't get into the master bath to grab more of her Vicodin. So I pocketed a few of Susan Mayfield's pills and got in my car, needing to get out of that house.

My options in Hawkins were limited. I certainly couldn't go to the bar when Sal was working there, or at any time, frankly; I wouldn't want his coworkers gossiping about me. And I couldn't risk running into any of my former students at the diner or the Unicorn Cafe. But I knew at least one place in this fucking town I could go.

At the drive-in, they were playing a Bruce Lee movie I'd seen a half dozen times, but it didn't matter; in my car, I could remain completely anonymous. From the comfort of my Beetle, I could watch hunky martial artists swing nunchucks at each other.

Unfortunately, if I wanted to preserve this privacy, I couldn't go to the concessions stand. I hadn't eaten all day, so I could really use some popcorn, but I could tolerate the hunger pangs. What I struggled to deal with was the thirst. Other than when I took my pills, I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a drink of water, and there were no leftover bottles of anything in the car. 

During the climax of the film, when everyone was either watching closely or about to cum, I flipped up my hood and zipped my coat over my chin, hurrying to the concessions.

"One water please," I said, looking over my shoulder anxiously. "And a Sprite and a large popcorn with extra butter while you're at it."

"There's only one size of popcorn," the pimply-faced teen informed me.

I threw my hands up melodramatically. "I'll have that one then."

"That'll be $7.25."

"$7.25..." I grumbled to myself, searching through my pockets. "What a fucking rip off." Unfortunately, I'd forgotten my purse, and while I had a few bucks tucked away just in case, I definitely didn't have enough to cover the cost. "Forget the soda and the popcorn, I just need water; I'm fucking thirsty."

The teenage started to put the green can back in the fridge when an infuriatingly golden-tanned hand slapped a ten-dollar bill on the counter. "Don't worry, I've got it," Billy said. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him wink and me, but I refused to acknowledge his existence. Once I had all my items, I stuffed the can in one pocket, the water bottle in the other, grabbed my popcorn with both hands and marched back towards my Beetle.

"Aren't you going to say thank-you?"

I turned around, careful to keep my face obscured in case anyone was watching. "Thank you." I tried to leave again, but he followed me.

"I've got a few blunts if you wanna smoke."

The sheer nerve of him thinking I'd want to do anything with him after he got me fired, not to mention humiliated me and ruined my reputation, possibly forever (at least in Hawkins) made me tremble with rage, but I didn't want to cause a scene, so I just nodded, climbing into the front seat before the movie could end. The last thing I needed was someone I knew seeing Billy Hargrove get into my car. It was one thing to fuck a teenager when I thought he was an adult, but it's an entirely different situation if I continued to see him, even after I'd been fired. If I got caught, I lost all plausible deniability.