Behind Closed Doors // Billie Eilish

Chapter 8

"Wait, wait, wait. Stop." Billie's head dropped as we both laughed. "You did what now?"

"Dude, I was like eleven and obsessed with Spongebob."

"So, you punched a bitch in her eye when you were eleven because she took something that looked like the Main Drain from Spongebob?"

I nodded. "Hell yeah. I was mean as fuck. We used to fight all the time, but she hit me in the head with it. I don't think it was on purpose. She was trying to block her face when I punched her and it got me on my forehead." I rubbed the scar.

"God damn. I'd hate to get on your bad side."

"When I lived with David, any time that we argued, they'd put us in the backyard and make us fight."

"Really," she asked, her eyebrows knitting together.

"Mhm. It got to a point where anytime there was a disagreement, we'd all go into Aaliyah's—David's sister," I clarified, "room and make them make up or whatever. They wouldn't even have to put us in the backyard. If you argued loud enough for her dad to hear, we'd fight you anyways for getting us into that shit."

"Geez." She shook her head.

"Yeah. Some crazy shit used to go down when we lived there. Kirsten told some girl at school that David was gonna shoot her house up, so she told her family. The same day, people came to our house fucking locked and loaded. Turned that shit around real quick. Turns out, they were in a gang."

Her mouth opened in shock. "You're kidding, dude. Did anybody get hurt?"

"Yeah. It happened multiple times. Look." I pulled the neck of my hoodie over and lifted my arm out of it to show her the scar.

"You got shot?" She lightly ran her fingers over the scar.

"Yeah. It wasn't bad though. It could've been in a much worse area."

"I think that getting shot at all is bad, but that's hard as fuck. You're tough—hold on. Look at those muscles," she teased. "Crazy."

I pulled my hoodie back up and laughed. "Yeah, we had to lift weights and shit on our offseason when I was still on the soccer team. I miss that shit."

"You really have some crazy stories to tell, dude." She laughed. "And so many scars. What the hell?"

"You should see my legs. I have so many scars from playing soccer, from skateboarding, from being an idiot..."

"I didn't know that you play soccer."

"I don't anymore. I was a mean ass defender though."

She nodded, smiling at me. I looked down, trying to hide the redness in my cheeks. I didn't like how closely she was examining me. She was so pretty and I'm just somewhat okayish, and I was scared she might finally realize if she kept staring at me.

"What'd you do when you were little?"

"I've always been obsessed with music. I always liked to write and stuff, but dancing was my whole life. That's actually the only reason that I am where I am right now."

"What do you mean?" I asked, setting my chin in my hand.

She sat Indian style, turning to face me. "The only reason that 'Ocean Eyes'" happened was because one of my dance teachers knew that I sang and wrote with my brother. He asked if we could do a song for one of the dances and Finneas had this song that he had written for his band, and it was 'Ocean Eyes.'"

I nodded, waiting for her to go on.

"One day, it just like blew up."

"You don't dance anymore, do you?" I leaned back and she set her legs on top of mine.