Imagines [Book Three]

Stranger Things [Billy Hargrove X Reader] pt. I

Imagine accidentally running into the new guy, only for him to take an interest in you.

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High school would have been a living nightmare had you not been befriended by Heather Holloway. She was one of the- if not the most- popular girls at Hawkins High and she made attending school bearable for you. But being friends with someone like Heather was bound to land you high up in the popularity rankings and it unfortunately made you a target for people like Carol and Tommy who wanted to tear down those they considered a threat to their own ranking.

Fortunately for you, Heather wasn't one to back down from a confrontation. If you weren't particularly feeling up to defending yourself, then Heather stepped in with her too sweet words laced with venom that usually shut the couple up. And though Heather was popular, she wasn't the type that everyone feared. She was the cool girl everyone idolized, the girl everyone adored, and since you were her best friend everyone else made sure to respect your boundaries and leave you be if you weren't feeling very sociable.

But now it's been about a month since the girls of Hawkins High have gone crazy for newcomer Billy Hargrove and you're so over all the giggling, the whispers, and the cocky persona he puts on when he notices he's being stared at. Normally someone's attitude like his wouldn't bother you, but the girls don't seem to have a care in the world when attempting to get close to him even if it meant pushing you out of the way to do so. And that, that bothers you.

"What's wrong with you?" Heather asks, leaning against the lockers next to yours, popping her bubblegum. "You're in a mood."

You sigh as you pick out your sketchpad that you need for your last class of the day. "I only got four hours of sleep last night and I've got a headache. I thought that by now the fascination with Mr. California would have died down, but apparently the girls are more desperate than ever, including Carol who seems to see me as some sort of competition and won't stop pestering me about the new guy."

"Really?" Heather perks up, pushing off the lockers. "You've talked to that sunkissed God?"

"One, ew." Your nose wrinkles in distaste and you start walking towards the Art room. Heather follows. "And two, no. I haven't talked to him which is why I'm confused and so over Carol talking shi-" You're cut off as you walk into a wall- or what you think is a wall- and you actually fall backwards down on your ass with a startled yelp. "What the hell was that?!" You ask, rubbing at your now sore nose before glancing upwards. An amused Billy Hargrove stands above you, hands on his hips which hold open his denim jacket to show off his white tee that fits him like a second skin. "Did I just run into you?" You ask, clearly not distracted by his cocky stance at all. "What the hell are you made out of? Brick?"

He smirks, but before he can say anything Heather is bending down and collecting your dropped sketchpad. She giggles. "You really shouldn't walk and talk, Y/N. You never know who you're going to run into."

"You're a bitch. You know that? You totally saw him standing there and didn't warn me."

"It's about time you get some one on one with Mr. California. I think you're the only girl he hasn't chased yet."

"And it's going to stay that way!" You hiss.

"Need a hand there, Princess? I mean I don't mind your current position, but-"

Your head jerks to stare up at Billy, gaze narrowing. "Not another word." He holds his hands up in mock surrender, winking. You roll your eyes. "And thanks, but no thanks."

You stand up without any aid, avoiding everyone's gazes who had stopped to stare. Yanking your sketchpad back from Heather, you scowl at her. Then when you move to continue on walking, you and Billy end up going in the same direction at once. You sidestep at the exact same time he sidesteps and he chuckles when you get visibly annoyed. Groaning, you slap a hand to Billy's chest and push him aside. But before you can step away, you glance at his chest where your hand is at and you end up poking him. "Jesus. Why are you so-"