dollhouse // billy hargrove

thirteen

billy's pov

my eyes flutter open to the sun beaming right through the window.

shit. did i sleep through the night? i wouldn't doubt it, that was the best sleep i've ever had and who knew it would be on a pull out couch in a hotel room.

i get out of bed still in the same clothes i slept in. my feet shuffle to the main portion of the hotel room where the bed was. heather was propped up on the bed, pen in hand, drawing something on the notepad the hotel put in the room.

she was still in the same clothes, too. either she fell asleep or it's still the same day.

"what time is it?" stupidly asking heather even though there was an alarm clock right next to her.

she doesn't tell me to look at the very obvious clock instead she leans over to look for herself, "6:30. how was your nap?"

"the best i ever had." i only slept an hour and thirty minutes but it seemed like hours, "sorry for just crashing on you." i apologize for leaving her in a hotel room with seriously nothing that she just drew for an hour and a half.

"let's go swimming before the pool closes!" she says excited as if we didn't have our own public pool in hawkins. although, it wasn't open for a majority of the year because of this shitty, cold weather. "you can change first." she offers, letting me have the bathroom.

i go off into the bathroom and start taking off my shirt, unbuttoning the only two buttons left. my eye glimpses in the mirror. bruises upon bruises. scarred over cuts upon cuts, each having a reason.

i worked as a lifeguard over the summer but my body was never this bad. for my case, the older you get, the more you get. i wasn't necessarily ashamed, but i wasn't proud either. it shows a battle was fought, although sometimes not won.

i finish changing into my red swim shorts i picked up at the store and walk back out to tell heather i'm done.

"looking good hargrove." she giggles, picks up her stuff, and heads to the bathroom.

i sit on the bed and prepared for her to take forever while changing, just as any girl would. i looked around the room to see if there was anything i could do while i waited. then, her drawings on the bed side table caught my attention.

they weren't just scribbles. they were detailed and in depth for only being drawn in pen. she shadowed everything by crossing lines and pressing harder or softer, depending on the scale of darkness she wanted.

shuffling quickly through all the photos, i learned she really focused her drawings on portraits of people. it could be random people she once saw on the street, people from our high school, her friends, or even of herself. and she drew them all so perfectly.

i hear the door unlock and click open leading me to dropping all the papers back down onto the table. she walks out and immediately started doing her own runway show, posing in all different ways.

"so what do you think?" she laughs at herself still modeling, now in front of the mirror.

she was wearing a black and white checkered bikini. the top tied in the front, showing just enough cleavage to make boys go crazy. the bottoms were high rise, showing off her toned legs in all their glory. it looked good on the mannequin, but it looked incredible on her. and she was confident, as she should be, making the whole package even better.

"you look," i paused still taking in everything, "great. really great."

"aw, thank you!" her cheeks blushed red.

"ready to go?"

"ready." she squealed in excitement. she really did miss out on her childhood years.

i grab my muscle tee, specifically the one that i cut the sleeves off to make a bandage for the cut on my hand, that finally healed.