Yay! Review goal accomplished! Thank you all so much for reviewing this, favouriting and following this story! It means so much!

I feel like it's been a bit of a slow start, with the main focus on the romance plot (which is one of three plots going on in this story which I am trying to juggle), but pretty soon the other two plotlines are going to start getting meatier. I'm so excited!

I absolutely love the quote I found for this chapter. I think that especially the last line of it heavily links to the upside down which is quite cool.

Anything you recognise, is not mine.

Hope you enjoy! 5941 words coming your way!

P.S. I would have updated sooner but wouldn't let me log in :(

Chapter Seven: The Park

"They take their heat from the sun and when it deserts them, they die."

"That's sad."

"No, it's not sad, Edith. It's nature. It's a savage world with things dying or… eating each other right beneath our feet."

- Crimson Peak, 2015

21st November 1984

"I know when you're lying, sweetie." She smiled, sadly. "Just promise to be safe."

I nodded, feeling sheepish for being caught out in the lie.

"I promise." I said.

I got back into Billy's car, my body welcomed by the warmth it provided. I looked over to where he was slouching back against his seat, his left hand resting on the wheel as the other played with his lighter. He turned his head to me as I sat down, his cool guy face turned up to the max. He'd also put his shades on while he was waiting for me.

I tried to stifle a giggle as I took in the sight. Sunglasses? When the sun had gone down? Was he joking? Or high?

"Do they were sunglasses at night in California too or is that just a Billy Hargrove thing?" I said as a smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

His head tilted to the side. He taken aback by my question. His forehead began to crease ever so slightly.

"No." He huffed, like a dejected and stroppy kid. "Put your stuff on the backseat."

Why was he so frustrating? I had asked a simple – and somewhat comedic – question, and now he was seconds away from his anger exploding. I was already stressed about Joyce knowing that there was something going on between us. Which was yet another thing to worry about. I was starting to regret my time with Billy today. But I suppose that was the nature of our relationship so far; we do something, and I regret it soon after.

But there was a silver lining in this mess; I could help Billy. Not that Billy would want to be saved from an abusive father by a 'Princess', but I could at least try to help. I would let Billy sleepover to escape rough nights, hard fists and overpowered fights at his own house. I could just be a friend to him; a distraction from the evils in his life. I couldn't really truly understand my need to help him. It was true that Billy had done more harm than good to me. But, like I had said to Jonathan, there was a nagging pull that I couldn't understand nor make quiet, which was making me want to help him.

I did as I was told, turning around to put my bag next to his when I heard plastic hit the dashboard. I glanced at him and saw that the sunglasses were gone from his face. I smirked as I put my bag next to his on the backseat. My bag leant onto his causing it to sort of slump over. The items inside came out half way. My eyes widened at what I saw.

Joyce had said to 'be safe'. Had she seen what I was looking at? Had that been how she'd figured out about our thing? I felt blood rapidly flood into my cheeks, the skin there becoming hot and red.

The thin cardboard of the box was shining in the dim light a streetlight gave off.

Billy must have seen what I was looking at in his rear-view mirror. I sat back in my chair, trying to make my eyes go anywhere but his.

"What cashier served you?" I asked, thinking that if Joyce had served him she would definitely think that we were- were having sex.

"Why does it matter?" He shrugged and shook his head in arrogant confusion.

Why? Joyce could tell Jonathan about the item he bought, who would maybe tell Nancy. And there was a chance that Nancy would tell Steve. The thought of four people – plus the girls from cheerleading – knowing about us was mortifying. The girls from cheer practice, I could handle. I could even handle Jonathan and Nancy knowing. It seemed like Joyce already knew, which made my insides recoil into themselves. The disappointment I felt coming off her in waves in the store now made even more sense to me. She definitely knew. Or thought she knew; there isn't anything between me and Hargrove, I thought stubbornly.

But Steve… Steve knowing was different, dangerous even. He would obviously share Joyce's disappointment, but he would also confront Billy about it. I knew he would. And nothing good would come from that confrontation. Both would end up beaten and bloody. Steve's cuts from the last fight were still healing, a orange-brown had replaced the deep purple bruises from before.

"It matters because you bought condoms." I said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It matters because whoever saw us together in that shop is going to add two and two together and-"

"And what, Princess?" He raised his eyebrows as he cut me off. "Figure out that we're not just lab partners?"

"This isn't a joke, Billy." I said, tone serious. "You know who works in that store?"

Billy put the keys in the ignition and started the car. I could tell he wanted the engine to tune my voice out, but I wasn't finished.

"Joyce Byers." I said with emphasis. "You know, the woman whose house you fought Steve in?"

"So, what?" He began to drive.

"So, she could tell her son, who could tell his girlfriend." My voice sounds nervous as my lower lip trembled just slightly. I'd already told Jonathan not to tell anyone that I was friendly with Billy, but if he found out that there was potentially more than friendship then maybe he'd tell Nancy. "Do you know who his girlfriend is?"

He shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"Nancy Wheeler." I grit out, mad at his nonchalance. "Steve's ex. If she tells Steve-"

"Well, we wouldn't want King Steve finding out, would we?" He interrupted with a smirk, mocking my fears.

I rolled my eyes, unimpressed by his nonchalant attitude. Why was he always like this?

"I just don't want everyone thinking that there's something going on between us," I spoke. "When there clearly isn't."

"Clearly." He repeated, smirk disappearing. I thought – for not even a full second – that I saw a sliver of pain in his eyes, but it was quickly hidden by something that looked like malice.

I sat back against the seat and shook my head as he fiddled with the radio, one hand on the wheel and the other pushing buttons. Music sprung out of the speakers so loud that I could feel each chord strung in the car.

"Why'd you buy them anyway?" I ask, somewhat naïvely, my voice loud as it tried to compete with some metal band. "We're going to the park."

He just looked over to me and gave me that roguish smirk that I was becoming all too familiar with.

I can't wait for the nights with you, I imagine the things we'll do, the song played. I tried so hard to ignore it, but I couldn't help but curse the universe for the timing of my question, his lusty smirk and those lyrics.

I turned my face away from his, cheeks red with anger and not – not – because he's so mouth wateringly attracti- what am I saying? He's not attractive. He's an ass. An arrogant asshole, one who loves to taunt me with his sun kissed chest and killer smile and blue Cali ocean eyes and skilled, rough hands and-

"Look," His speech cut off my inner musings. I wondered for a second of fright if he'd heard the things that I'd thought. But then he continued, as arrogant as ever. "There are other girls who, unlike you, put out."

I scoffed. He smirked. The song played. The engine roared.

"You're a fucking pig." I ironed out, face tight.

"Isn't that what you called me before I went down on you?" He said, smugly. "And then you went down on me. It was… good but it was clearly your first time."

"Clearly?" I scoffed, repeating him and only vaguely aware that we had already repeated this word just a moment ago.

"Clearly." A devilish smirk slid onto his face as easy as rain slid down my window. His eyes were fixed on the road but from the power-hungry gleam found in the blue waves of his eyes, I knew he wasn't focused on what was ahead. He was instead fixated on the small battle he'd won against me.

The song ended and another one began. All the while I sat there stewing in silence, arms crossed as I looked fixatedly out of the window, hopeful for a distraction. But I didn't find one, at least not a distraction that was all that entertaining. I watched white dots that were littered against a midnight blue canvas move steadily over us. I watched the treetops – only visible because they hid the stars – move past us.

I didn't see Billy glance at me with arrogant eyes. I didn't see the arrogance melt into something else; something gentle and filled with what some would call longing.

Eventually we made it to the park.

As a child, I remember long bright summer days spent at the park. This was the place where I'd come and play with Jonathan or Steve or Hannah when I was kid. There were other children there, of course, and we all knew each other. It is a small town, after all.

Most of the children spent their time within the black bars of the fence surrounding the park, but I would venture outside to the surrounding land.

The park was on a plot of wide open grasslands that stretched out to be the size of two football fields. In the middle of this expanse of land, there sat one lone oak tree. Its branches reached upward toward a cloudless sky and gifted shade from golden beams of sunlight. I'd spent many days under that tree in my childhood which was probably the reason for how pale I was - and still am.

But the shade was not the only thing that attracted me there. The main cause for my time and attention were the butterflies. Like me, they would also take refuge in the cool space provided by the aged tree.

One day, there was one cocoon hanging above me on a single branch. I jumped up to it, wanting to hold it within my palm. I jumped, and I reached, and I stretched, wanting to touch it. But I was far too short and couldn't quite reach the cocoon.

My attention turned to the ground, where a lone blue butterfly lay still. Lifeless.

The color of its wings was a beautiful shade of cerulean blue and the small black dots that lay atop the blue reminded me of the dusting of light brown freckles across my cheeks. I knelt next to it, grass tickling the bare skin of my shins and arms as I reach out to touch it. It was cold and weightless against my small palm. I stroked its feather soft wings, wondering how it was possible for something so small to exist.

Then, a small tingle went through my palm. The butterfly's legs had tickled the skin there, causing the tingling sensation. It hadn't been dead after all. My tiny round eyes widened as it started to move. It crawled up my palm to the edge of my sleeve before its tiny wings fluttered, then it flew away, past the cocoon and over the park. It flew until its small blue form was no longer visible.

But now, roughly nine years later, I sat in Billy's parked car and stared at the park that was shrouded in darkness. The park had been left to rot and was in a considerable state of disrepair; the swing set missing a few seats, the see-saw rotted in the middle, the pirate ship climbing frame cracked and graffitied. A few years back there had been a newer park built, one closer to the preschool which was probably where kids played these days. That park had been made with metal frames, leaving no possibility of it rotting as quickly as wood.

It was horrible to see a place from my childhood in such a state. It was as if this place had been stolen and only the memories remained the same, but even they would eventually become tainted. Sooner or later my brain would replace the memories with the present, replacing healthy wooden climbing frames and children's laughter with rotten figures that barely looked like their old selves and the almost-silence of this eerie night.

The headlights shone onto the park, and the shadows the rotten frames cast on the trees was enough to make my heart race in its cage. They looked like long spindly hands stretching out from within hell itself – or the upside down – to try and drag as much as possible from our world back with them before the sun came up.

It looked as if the scene had been stolen from a fairy-tale – one with lots of evil old witches with plots of luring children here to cook them into a pie. No child would dare step here. I wondered, sentimentally, about whether even the butterflies would dare to return. I had returned after all so maybe there was hope for those winged creatures, but then again, maybe the only things attracted to this pile of ravished wood would be moths. I recalled with a shiver, that I had once read a book claiming that Black moths ate butterflies.

It was a welcome distraction when Billy reached behind us to grab our bags. He placed mine in my lap and I thanked him for it – for the bag and not the distraction, although that too was much appreciated. I noticed that he pulled out his food and then tossed his bag back onto the seat, leaving the condoms inside. I didn't quite know why I was so frustrated about him buying those things, maybe it was that I didn't want other people to think that the rumours were true. Maybe it was because they irked me and made me think that sex with Billy was inevitable.

"Come on." Billy said as he opened his car door.

"You want to eat outside?" I asked, voice admittedly embarrassingly high, as he planted his feet on the ground.

"Yeah." He said shortly as he bent to look at me.

"Oh." I thought we'd be eating in the car. I didn't really want to go outside in the dark, it didn't feel safe. I didn't feel safe.

"'Oh' what?" He asks, leaning on the door frame and looking in the car at me. He was probably judging my worried expression, trying to decipher what was wrong. But then again, this was Hargrove and I wasn't quite sure whether he cared enough to figure out what was wrong with me.

"It's just- it's dark is all." I admit.

"Aww, is the Little Princess scared of the dark?" He asked in a condescending and high voice as if he were speaking to a baby rather than the girl who'd sucked him off like a slut in the boys' locker room.

I scowled in response, crossing my arms. His eyes rolled when he saw me.

"I'll keep the headlights on." He said, willing to compromise.

"But it looks creepy if you leave them on." I whined.

"Should I turn them off then?" He sounded tired.

The thought of complete darkness brought back flashes from the upside down and my recent nightmares.

I quickly shook my head. He rolled his eyes again before he shut his door with a thud. I saw him walk around the car, the headlights making his body seem ghoulishly white. He trod over to my side of the car before opening my door.

"Your Highness." He said, playfully as he held the door open for me.

I got out of the car, my body lightly trembling as he shut the door behind me. It was cold but that wasn't why I was shivering. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see that the field stretched out beyond the car and the park and the treeline was barely visible as the sky blended seamlessly into the trees and the trees blended effortlessly into the grass. It reminded me of the plot of land where the portal to the upside down was, which I later found out to be a pumpkin patch oddly enough. The only distinguishable feature about this remarkably dark and uneven land was the leafless old oak that stood proud amongst the dark, despite being so lonesome. I needed some of that tree's courage.

My eyes found Billy, his muscular form draped on the hood of the car, his feet firmly on the ground and back slightly hunched over his food. I walked around to him, sat on the car, my feet dangling inches above the wet grass. I felt safer knowing that the old oak was watching over us; a guardian; a last and rare remnant from my time here as a child. Somehow, this warmed me and made me feel safer.

We ate our food in silence, but the silence didn't feel awkward like it would with anyone else. I couldn't help but stare as he licked his fingers clean of the sugar from his sweets. I finished my ice-cream just as his eyes caught me staring. I looked away and hoped he couldn't see the red that marred my cheeks in the dark.

I noticed that Billy was still looking at me. He was staring. It made me self-conscious. My head nodded away from him, avoiding his gaze, but I could still feel the weight of his eyes on me. With a glance over to him I saw that his eyes were focused on my lips. He brought his hand up to my face and my breath got stuck in my throat, creating a lump that wouldn't go away. He rubbed some ice-cream away from the corner of my mouth with his thumb before bringing it to his own mouth and sucking the substance off.

I licked my lips as I watched the corner of his thumb disappear into his mouth. He slowly, tantalizingly removed it from his mouth, perhaps knowing that my eyes would follow his hand as he brought it down to the top of his leg, resting his wet thumb dangerously close to his crotch area.

I felt my cheeks burn.

I shivered.

"Are you cold." He asked, though it didn't register as a question.

He slipped off the hood, coming to stand before me. His large hands pulled me by the underside of my legs to edge of the hood before he parted them and came to stand between my aching thighs. I could feel the space between my legs pulse with anticipation. He slid off his jacket, his body flexing as he removed it, enabling me to see the contours of his chest through his t-shirt as it stretched taught against his skin. He brought his still warm jacket around my shoulders, his hands trailed along my shoulders to the collar of it. He used the collar to bring me closer to him. All I could smell was him.

He caught my eyes and I wanted to look away, but I found myself trapped, unable to part gazes once our eyes had met. Blue on brown. Cold on warm. Beautiful on ordinary.

His face inched toward mine.

"You still owe me a kiss, remember?" He purred, voice low and predatory.

How could I forget?

His breath tickled my skin like feathers. He was only an inch away.

He pressed our lips pressed together. I was still for a moment, not sure of how to proceed. Then the moist wetness of his tongue ran along the slit of my mouth, jolting me into action. Our mouths moved together, smoothing and caressing each other. His tongue danced into mine as they met inside my mouth. He swallowed my whimper. I felt more than heard his moan against my swollen lips.

I dug my hands into his hair and tugged on his dirty blonde strands. He held my waist captive with large hands as he pushed me onto my back. His mouth never left mine as his weight pressed down on me. I became agonisingly aware of the hard planes of his body pressing onto me.

We separated for breath before he came back swiftly and nipped at my bottom lip. He firmly pressed his mouth onto mine continuing with vigour in his explorations of my mouth and tongue with firm strokes. The warm wetness of his kiss made my lower stomach heat up, tie itself into tight knots that would take skilled hands to undo.

I moved my hands from his hair to his shoulders to his back and I was mesmerised by the hard muscles moving under my fingers. He fisted my clothes, pulled my skirt up so that it was just the thin fabric of my tights that separated me from him. His hands jerked my hips up, pulled me flush against his. I could feel his hard length straining in his jeans, needing to be free. The aching between my thighs pulsed again. I felt myself becoming hotter, wetter.

His zipper brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves in between my thighs and I ached for more. For a stray moment, I wondered if the friction would create a hole in my tights but then one earth shattering thrust of his hips was enough to quiet my thoughts altogether. I gasped, mouth parting from Billy's. He carried on sucking and licking my jaw, then he moved his tongue and trailed it up and down my neck, sending pulses to my stomach. He rubbed his jeans into to me, and I felt him smirk into my skin. I gasped and shivered and wined as his hips rocked steadily into mine.

I moved my hands under his t-shirt, marvelling at the movement of his muscles as they moved against me. I matched his rhythm, used my grip on his hips as leverage to pull my hips closer to his so that I could arch to rock into his clothed cock. To think that we were only separated by a few layers of clothing made shivers dance down each vertebrae of my spine.

Our joint thrusts were quickly sending me over the edge. We rocked and rubbed and thrust against each other. At a certain angle the zipper, pushed up because of his straining cock pushing against it, brushed my clit. My eyes fluttered closed, Billy flicked his tongue over my collarbone, thrusted again… again… which sent me into waves of pleasure. I cried out against the side of Billy's face as I felt my walls contract in on themselves. My nails dug into the skin of his waist as I tried to hold on to this moment.

Billy still madly jerked his hips into mine, chasing his own release. Once my vision cleared, I realised what he needed; skin to skin contact. My hand snaked in between us feeling the tight quivering muscles of his stomach before I brought it to the waistband of his jeans. He stilled, and I could feel his small intake of breath against my neck.

My hand ventured inside his jeans. My eyes grew wider as I found that he wasn't wearing underwear. No underwear in this weather? Was he crazy? Well, this Billy we're talking about; I already know how mad he is. Going commando in Winter wasn't actually that shocking of a move for him. Plus, it meant that less clothing got in the way of what I was about to do.

I tentatively cupped him, wrapped my fingers around him. I stroked the length of him and I marvelled at how thick he felt. I found pre-cum leaking from it and used it to make my hand slick as I rubbed him. I smirked as I heard him swallow a groan as I cupped the head. Empowered by his groan of pleasure I became more confident in my movements, increased the speed and pressure of them. He nodded repeatedly into my neck the speed grew.

I twisted my palm and he growled at the new angle. I tried to move my wrist in circular movements, hand slick with precum. I wanted to feel him moan into my heated flesh.

I stroked and cupped and trailed my hand along his hard flesh and felt it pulse in my hand. I increased my speed again, wanting to feel the strings of hot cum, needing him to feel his release. He moaned against my skin, forehead sliding down to press into my collarbone as his hips jerked and twitched into my palm.

He went rigid before I felt it; hot liquid that spread over my wrist. He cried out into my breast, tried to conceal the whimpers that came with every string that shot out of him. When it was over, he stilled before he lay over me. His head was pressed against my breast, his stomach pressing in between my legs. I felt his heated breath move against my blouse.

I brought my hand out of his pants and felt the liquid rapidly cool in the air. I studied the pearly substance thinking of how I had swallowed that down in the boys' locker room at Billy's demand. My stomach felt empty now, even though I'd just eaten. I tried to wipe it off on my tights.

Billy rolled off me then, leaving me feeling as if something was missing without him pressing his weight atop me. We lay together on the hood of his Camaro, blood on fire but cooling now with our joint releases. We were still too mystified – shocked, awed, tired, confused, scared – to talk.

But then, the chilled metal of the car grounded me, reminded me that I should not have done that with him.

I sat up, leaning on my elbows as I snuck a glance at him. I looked to his lower body first, wondering what the mess in his trousers felt like to him.

Deciding that I probably shouldn't think about that, I hurriedly switched my gaze to his upper body. His chest was lightly heaving, his arm draped over his stomach as his eyes focused on the sky. I too looked up to the stars, being calmed by their unchanging nature which was so uncommon in life. The stars, at least, were constant. Down here on Earth, hardly anything was truly reliable or unchanging. I couldn't quite figure out if that made Earth beautiful or chaotic. Maybe both; a chaotic beauty that made us distinctly us and not those things from the upside down. I wondered then about the aimless and destructive nature of the upside down. What place did the upside down have in the universe? Why was it here? And what did it want? I thanked God that El or Jane (or whatever her name was) was able to close the gate. I just hoped that whatever came from that place had died when the portal closed.

I felt someone looking at me, their eyes itching my skin. My head turned to find Billy staring at me. His hair was messy, flat in places and sticking up in others. His cheeks were tinged pink and if he weren't looking at me so intensely with an unreadable expression painted onto his face, I perhaps would have giggled at how cute the sight was. His blue eyes were glazed over yet intensely focused, seeming as if they held a burning desire to say something.

If this were some romantic movie I imagined the scene would play out like so;

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." The actor whispered before tucking a strand of hair behind the actress's ear. He licked his lips, preparing for a passionate kiss that was scripted to happen in a few lines to come.

The actress would reply with a cliché line:

"That's just because we're sitting in the dark, silly." She spoke, her perfect appearance making the modesty seem all the more potent in making her a relatable or down to earth type of character.

But this was not some dumb romantic movie. And I knew that it was ridiculous, but for a glimmering second, I did think that he would say that I was beautiful. Or I thought he would say something passionate. Something real and true. Or at least something. I thought the real Billy would speak to me, not the ever-arrogant Hargrove.

But he didn't say anything; his mouth did not open. The only movement he made was the slight clench of his jaw.

Then he spoke, but it wasn't what I wanted him to say. I doubt it was what he wanted to say either.

"It's probably time to go." He said, voice stiff.

He was cutting himself off from me. I nodded. He looked away from me.

"How long until you have to pick Max up?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even as I slid off his car, my fingertips trailing down behind my body, flesh dragging against the metal.

He looked to his watch, trying to angle it to face the headlights so that he could see. He kept twisting his wrist, not being able to see the number because of the light shining off the glass. But eventually he was able to read it.

"About twenty minutes." He said. "So, I'll drop you back now. Then I'll pick up Max."

We both climbed into his car, my heart still beating wildly, and lips still swollen and pulsing from his kiss.

He played no music on the way back.

He parked just a little way away from my house, so that Steve didn't hear the engine or see the car. I had thanked him for the ride and was about to get out, but then I grit my teeth and pulled his jacket tighter around me in preparation. There were some things I wanted – no, needed– to say before I left.

"Billy." I firmly said. I let his name sit in the car for a moment like a newly opened bottle of wine.

"What is it, Clare?" He said, voice stiff and low, predatory. On edge. He was an animal trapped in a cage and each bar of that cage represented some injustice I'd somehow done to him.

But then I realised what he said. I focused on him then, trying to remember the last time he'd said my name. Had his lips ever formed my name in his mouth before? Had his tongue ever tasted it before? It was likely that he hadn't. I felt as if he'd said something that couldn't be taken back, something concrete and irreversible. But I told myself that that was stupid and that he'd only said my name; it was nothing special. I doubt Billy never even noticed saying it – I hardly noticed when I had began calling him 'Billy' instead of 'Hargrove' and I still can't quite place when I started doing so. But Billy… He probably didn't even care. Maybe he just wasn't in the mood to call me 'Princess'. Maybe he was just in the mood to punch something.

I decided to carry on. To face the questions and confusion that plagued my thoughts.

"The park." I said, simply. I watched him as I spoke, wanting to be able to sense if a storm was brewing. "What we did there…"

His jaw tightened.

"… and in the boys' locker room…" I carried on.

He didn't speak. His jaw was flexing.

"I just- I want to know what's going on." My heart jumps in its cage as I confront what our relationship is. "Between us, I mean."

He gave no reply. The air continued to thicken like blood with his silence.

"I mean, you're so… sweet one minute – kind, even – and the next you make me feel like some- some slut-"

"You're not." He cut me off.

"What?" My eyes start to burn.

"A slut." He says, simply, but I could tell that neither of us were finding this conversation simple. "You're not like those other girls."

"'Like those other girls'." I repeat, my blood flaring and boiling in my veins. "Like the ones that 'put out'." I remind him of his earlier words, words that had stung me, cut into my flesh like needles. But as soon as they'd left my mouth a bad taste set in.

He fixed his eyes onto his hands that were white on the steering wheel.

A need to apologize to him washed over me, but I had to push that urge back, make it disappear. Neither of us would apologize to the other. We were both stubborn in that way.

I gave it a minute before speaking again, my voice piercing the air between us.

"Look, you can still stay over if- if things get bad." I almost whisper and for a moment I wonder if he'd heard but then his hands tightened on the wheel, a reaction to my words.

I studied him. The side of his face had an edge of sadness marring it, an expression long and often hidden by his mask of malice. If my heart were attached to strings, Billy would be my puppeteer, my master. With the slightest alter in his facial expression – whether that be sorrow, pain, anger or joy – I would mirror him. I was a puppet pulled by empathetic strings.

So, it was then that without thinking, I said the words I somehow hadn't realized had been hidden within myself. I hadn't noticed they were there, deep within my stomach, but now I did notice them and they flooded to the surface, ready and wanting – no, needing – to be heard by him. So, my mouth formed the words and gave them life.

"I care about you."

The words hung on my tongue for a moment before falling off into the chasm between us. They fluttered away from me, falling then rising then fading away, as if they were never even spoken. But the truth was still there, the feel of them was still there and that would never go away; he knew I cared about him.

I cared about him.

But he said nothing.

His fists tightened on the wheel.

"I'm uh…" He paused. "I'm going to be late picking up Maxine, so are we done here?"

He didn't even look at me as he said it.

My chest went numb.

"…Yeah." I replied on autopilot.

Before I could recognise what I had done, I was out of the car, walking to my house. I didn't hear his engine speed away like I knew it had. I didn't see anything; my eyes were too blurry. I didn't feel the tracks of wetness falling down my cheeks. When I opened the door to my house and Steve saw me and hugged me, I didn't feel his arms around me. I didn't feel him tuck me into bed with a hot water bottle. I didn't see him hang Billy's jacket in my wardrobe with slightly confused and expression. I didn't see his temper rise as he figured out who the jacket belonged to. I didn't see his worried face or hear him pace in his bedroom later on.

I only knew that getting closer to Billy, growing to care for him, had perhaps been a mistake.

Billy did not come over that night.

This is my fave chapter so far! Hope you all enjoyed!

It would be interesting if you guys would let me know if you have a favourite or least favourite chapter. Or even a favourite or least favourite scene so far. I'm really interested. Plus, it will let me know what you guys like to read about, therefore I will be able to write more of what you like. Seem like a good deal?

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