AN: Yo, thanks for the follows yall. TakeEmAway, glad this has grabbed your attention, hope it will continue to do so! Promise chapter three is going to be longer, I just have to edit it but definitely going to wait until Friday. Weekly update rule maintains my sanity. And as always, reviews are welcome!

Chapter Two: Caution, do not touch

October air streamlines through his fingers while the radio blares its riotous din.

While the camaro storms down the highway, its lights on full beam cuts through the gloom abd Billy tosses a glance to the passenger seat. The girl sinks into the upholstery with her chin dipped underneath the collar of her jacket.

"What? Car sick?" He shouts over the scream of wind tousling his hair.

She tears her eyes from the road. The anxiety on her face tempts him to laughter.

His tongue sweeps across his bottom lip.

"Too late for regrets."

"C-c-could you s-s-slow down?"

"C-c-could I what?" Billy mocks. "Sorry— beggars can't be choosers."

Her frown betrays her disappointment and he delights in it. It keeps him amused the next several miles. Until, he notices her posture gradually relax. The death grip on her seatbelt loosens. The edge of the town looms in his vision and it's all a reminder that the fun is about to end.

His shit-bird stepsister might never get used to the way he speeds, but Billy doesn't like that his new tag-along is finding this a little old. This alone causes his foot to floor the brake and as the car screeches to a halt, her face lurches forward, barely smashing against the dash.

"Thought I saw a deer." Billy shrugs as his amusement bleeds off. "My bad."

Whatever insult is on her mind, she never voices it. Silently unbuckling her seatbelt, she gathers the large blue book at her feet which had tumbled off her lap. Billy sees her intentions before she can act on them and doesn't know why his chest aches at seeing her leave.

Please don't do this…

...come home…

Mom...

A girl has never walked out on him. It's always been the other way around. It's a principle of his since he was a freshman. And he's kept it up for far too long to let it fall apart now. So, when she turns her body away from him, hand latched onto the handle, Billy takes a fistful of her sleeve and whips her back around.

"Where do you think you're going?" he snaps.

Her head tips down to his hand.

"Walking," she says quickly before her parasitic stutter could hijack her tongue.

"We had a deal." Ironically, he doesn't uphold deals— not often, at least. And a measly amount of cash isn't what makes him adamant to take her wherever the hell she wants in Hawkins. He just wanted to be the one to tell her to get the hell out of his car for the sake of telling her. That's what he calls amusement when he's half sober.

But, her gloved hand comes up to his wrist, lightly touches it to coax him to release his fist.

Billy finds it jarring when she says:

"No...B-but, thank you."

If it isn't enough, she pats his shoulder and her face brightens. She's fine with it, she's grateful…

She's fine with leaving…

...but he tells himself it's all a lie and that type of thinking darkens his face. In the troubled corridors of his mind, a match strikes and sets the fuse.

His fist on her jacket tightens, twists more fabric.

The girl senses a change and the way her body shifts further to the door tells him she's scared.

"L-l-let me go, Billy."

At the sound of his name, Billy doesn't think about his mother anymore. His fist loosens, but his hold on her arm is still firm.

"How do you know?"

Suddenly, her face takes on the fragility of porcelain and Billy knows he's caught her in a lie. She lowers her gaze to her book. Her lashes aren't clumped, aren't caked with that black paint the girls his age applicate to look fuller. How plain.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you."

She obeys. This time, there is a warbling smile on her lips.

"M-m-my n-name is Louise," she offers lamely.

His jaw locks into place. "Is that what I asked?"

She flushes with embarrassment.

For all Billy knows, he's never met this girl before tonight and he hasn't lived here long enough for his name to work its way through Hawkins.

"Tell me…"

Her brows knit together. Mouth presses. She's not attempting to speak; she's trying not to and it spurns him on.

When she looks away again, his body tenses.

He captures her jaw in a bruising grip.

"I said look at me when I'm—"

The last thing he sees is her frightened eyes before his throat closes up and every muscle in his body contracts under the charge of a violent current. The music playing from the radio thins out into silence.

Gold and white arcs his vision and Billy is whisked away into a dream.