It continues like that; every time they happen to be in the same vicinity of each other, he can practically feel Harrington's apprehension. It's never a recoil, like that first time, but Billy knows better than anyone how fast one can learn to hide one's fear if the situation demands it, and he recognizes the signs in Harrington's reactions. He can see it in the way the other boy never meets his eyes, the way he avoids looking in Billy's direction altogether, and the way he clenches his jaw or tenses up as soon as he hears Billy's voice.

And it's strange, because it's not long ago that reactions like those used to make him feel good, and like he'd accomplished something. Now they only add to his own misery – and when he's miserable he lashes out.

He gets in more fights – both in and outside of school – and he talks back to his teachers and skips more classes than he used to. He gets detention a couple of times, which he skips, which leads to a phone call to his dad, which leads to a stern talking-to about the importance of school work and becoming a responsible adult.

Please, Billy thinks as he's working his jaw – Neil's grip was painful when he held him up against the door – like school work's important. He knows most of what they're doing now already, anyway. The upside of moving to a new school in the middle of fucking nowhere; he's read ahead.

And the thing is, that he's not entirely sure why this thing with Harrington is getting to him so much. It was just a fight, that Harrington started. Billy fucked up, sure, he never should have taken it that far – but he should have moved on by now. It was just a fight.

He doesn't want to think about the fact that every time he gets a reaction out of Harrington nowadays, he is reminded of himself, and he hates how he is able to … relate, in a way, to the unease in the other boy's eyes.

Billy knows why Harrington tenses up and walks away when he hears Billy's voice, because Billy has many years of experience of making himself scarce when he hears Neil speaking in a particular tone of voice. He recognizes why Harrington looks down and to the side when they meet in the hallways, because he can't even count the times he's tried to do the same thing at home; trying to be invincible to avoid attracting attention. He understands why Harrington won't meet his eyes, because sometimes when he meets his dad's eyes, it's taken as a challenge and lead to worse things.

He doesn't want to see himself in Harrington, though. It makes him uneasy, and that only makes him even more irritable.


One day he rounds a corner and they almost walk into each other. Billy's barely opened his mouth to tell the other person to watch the fuck out when Harrington looks up and spots him. His eyes widen and he snaps his teeth together so hard that Billy winces, and then he almost jumps out of the way and practically power-walks in the other direction.

Billy's looking after him, feeling cold, and goes home that day to pick a fight with Neil. It's Friday, he doesn't have school for two days. He can afford it, and his dad's fists feel like penance.


During basketball practice they mostly avoid each other, but one day, when the only marks left on Harrington's face are some yellow outlines of bruises and a scabbed-over cut, Billy forgets for a second and shoulders past him. Harrington falls to the floor, hard, and makes a sound that no one probably heard but Billy. It's the sound of air leaving the lungs, but it also sounds a little frightened to Billy's ears, a little like a gasp, and he stops. One look at Harrington, who is frozen on the floor and not making any move to get up, and he suddenly remembers himself straddling the other boy and hitting him, hitting him, hitting him

The memory – ironically enough – makes him want to hit someone, and that makes him gnash his teeth together to stop himself from … screaming, maybe. Or throw up. Whatever this feeling is that tastes like bile and is stuck in his throat, clawing to get out.

Luckily for him, another boy tries to take advantage of him being distracted and take the ball from him, so he has an outlet.

"Hey, fuck you!" he growls and pushes the other boy to the floor.

Before he can do anything else, the coach blows his whistle and tell them to break it up. Billy throws the ball at the boy on the floor, hard, and advances, but the coach is there with his hands on Billy's shoulders, pushing him back.

"If you can't behave yourself, Hargrove, you have no place on my court."

Billy looks around at the faces of his teammates. A few of them are grinning, a few look annoyed, some look away. Harrington has gotten to his feet and is looking straight at Billy; looking wary.

"Fuck this shit!" he hears himself saying. "This is a fucking bullshit team anyway."

He turns his back on all of them – because he can't deal with it right now, and maybe the coach is right and he doesn't have a place there – and walks out.


He doesn't officially quit the team, but he doesn't goes back for any practices either. Fuck his grades.

He starts actively avoiding Harrington after that.


So actively, in fact, that he doesn't see Harrington for almost two weeks, except from a distance. And even then he makes sure that Harrington doesn't see him. He parks on the other side of the building, and when he spots Harrington in the hallway he turns around and walks the other way. It's not perfect, but it's all he can do; for Harrington, so he doesn't have to be afraid of him, and for himself, so he doesn't have to see Harrington's unease. The unease that makes him uneasy, and that he is the cause of.

But then one day, he walks out of a classroom and turns, and there – only an arm-length away – is Harrington, looking like a deer in headlights at the sight of him. Billy's breath catches in his throat, and he abruptly turns on the spot, as if he had suddenly forgotten something – only, someone else is exiting the classroom he just got out of, and he finds himself walking straight into the door with a smack. He stumbles back and swears, hands flying to his nose.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

The girl who opened the door on him has her hands on his shoulders, and while she is fussing and apologizing, he chances a look back at Harrington, half expecting him to be gone already. But Harrington is still there, and he's fighting back a smile. When he sees Billy looking at him, he wipes the smile off his face and hurries off, but Billy doesn't care. It was small, but it was a smile. Granted, it was because someone smashed his face in with a door, but it wasn't a flinch and it wasn't a gasp. Harrington smiled, and even though his nose is throbbing and the girl is frantically trying to drag him to the nurse's office to have it checked out, he feels something warm settle in his stomach. A smile, and Billy put it there.

He did that.


He feels strangely hopeful after the door incident, and stops avoiding Harrington to the same extent. If he sees him in the hallway or the parking lot, he doesn't walk away; he just makes sure not to make any sudden movements or loud noises. He scoffs at himself at times, because Harrington is not a skittish fucking horse,but he keeps it up.

Sometimes he looks at Harrington out of the corner of his eye and sees that he's still apprehensive, and there are still times when he'll go out of his way to avoid being in the same room as him, but – as Billy knows from experience – one can't just go around being afraid all the time. It takes way too much energy, which is better saved for actual danger. And after weeks of doing nothing threatening whatsoever in Harrington's presence, the other actually seems to relax a little.


The first time their eyes meet and Harrington doesn't flinch or immediately look away is one day when Billy's entering a classroom, a couple of minutes too late, and Harrington looks up with the rest of the class.

The teacher sighs and says something – probably some kind of threat about detention, which seems to be the norm when he saunters in late these days – but Billy's not really listening, because Steve is looking at him. It's just a look to see who entered, sure, and he looks down when the others do, but there was no fear in his eyes.

Something uncurls in Billy's stomach and he grins at his teacher.

"Yeah, whatever you say."

He takes his seat in the loudest way possible, because he's Billy fucking Hargrove, and feels strangely at ease for the rest of the day.


A week or so later, after a few more encounters without a single flinch, he takes a chance and nods at Harrington when they pass each other in the hallway. It could have gone better.

Harrington is walking with some kid Billy doesn't know and hasn't bothered to learn the name of, and they're both carrying books so they're obviously on their way to class. Billy is maybe twenty steps away when Harrington looks up and spots Billy. Not knowing exactly what to do, and feeling a bit like he should have looked away before it got to this, Billy nods at him – both expecting and not expecting Harrington to nod back.

Harrington's eyes widen slightly, but he only turns to the kid beside him and continues talking, as if he didn't notice. Billy does nothing either, just keeps going, but he feels simultaneously rejected and angry at himself for expecting anything else.


Still, he tries it again, and the next time Harrington meets his eyes and nods back. It's barely a nod, more like an awkward twitch of the head, but it's not a flinch and it's not a blatant dismissal, so Billy counts it as a win.