Chapter Seven: Come too close

Billy remembers.

Wispy blonde hair caught in the sea breeze. Sweet ocean greetings for his mother whose smile is his and his alone. Then, the hurricane batters the shore and reaps the warmth from the sand beneath his feet.

Reality saddles back in full swing and Billy releases Louise's neck, having not realized his hand was around her to begin with.

Did he just try to—

— try to choke her?

Max's voice resurfaces, growing louder with every frightened shriek of his name.

"Billy, are you crazy!?"

Louise stumbles to the ground, her nose runs and blood flows freely over her upper lip. Max crouches beside her, pulls at her jacket to draw Louise to her feet who unsteadily tries to find balance on her legs.

Billy blinks and steps back as his stomach lurches with nausea. He turns away from them and catches the waitress in the diner window, gawking. As though he were a monster.

No. No.

Billy spins in the direction of his car and tromps forward like a drunk — like his father— his mind under a dizzying spell.

Her spell. Billy thinks.

He needed to get out of there. He needed to be alone. He needs to get away from Louise.

"Stay away from him," Max warns.

But, a hand clasps around his and Billy immediately whirls around to slap her from his skin. Louise doesn't back away in alarm. Her black eyes are gleaming as she looks at him.

"I'm...s-sorry."

For every step she advances, he takes double the amount back. Until the car bumper hits the back of his knees.

"Stay away from me."

Billy hears that the words are his own, but he can't stop seeing the image of his mother crawling away from curled fists as a breath which reeks of cheap beer screams terrible things to her. He's seen it so many times.

Stay away from me, Neil!

"Billy…" Louise says. "I— I warned you."

"Get away!" He snaps. "Max! Let's go!"

Billy skirts around the front and fumbles for his keys. Once he piles into the driver's seat, he yells out of his window.

"Get the fuck in!"

He sees Louise turn to her, says something softly he doesn't hear, and Max wears a stony expression as she listens. Finally, his sister gets into the car.

The engine starts and as Louise wipes her nose with the back of her hand, he reverses the car out of the parking lot and doesn't look once in the rearview mirror at the diner. Or at Louise.

. — . — . — .

Later that night, she sits on the bed in her slip, knees pulled up to her chest. Her hand massages the side of her neck where Billy's touch had tried to harm her.

The TV is on. Shadows flicker on her face.

She shuts her eyes from the TV to focus on the whisper of his mother's laughter, a ghost in his mind. Now, haunting hers.

Oh, Billy…

I'm so sorry.

. — . — . — .

The next day is just an opportunity for him to forget the night before. Everything works like clockwork and he functions as well as he can, even if it's not all that normal. As much as he wants to wipe his memories, Billy knows these are childish whims. Life doesn't offer anything better than to move forward.

Susan makes breakfast, but he grabs the quickest thing out of the refrigerator and leaves the kitchen.

"I'll be in the car."

Max looks up from her cereal. Susan attempts a loud goodbye in her soft spoken voice, but Billy still can't hear her.

At his car, he tosses his bookbag into the back, sits in the driver's seat with his hands clutching the steering wheel and stares a hole into the speedometer.

. — . — . — .

And that's how Max finds him when she leaves through the front door, her skateboard tucked under her arm. His face gives away what Max identifies as Billy being in a mood. The easiest way around this, was to never say a word.

But, five miles away from school, Billy surprises her.

A cigarette is pinched between the fingers of one hand. He blows out a stream of smoke which is sucked out of the open window.

"Last night didn't happen, alright?"

"What part?" she asks.

He glances at her.

"Everything."

"But, it did."

"Playing smartass doesn't flatter you."

Max's brow scrunches up. "I don't see the point. You don't look like you're doing a great job at convincing yourself."

Billy snorts. "Assumptions are for assholes."

"Yeah, but you took her money. Doesn't that make you an asshole too?"

Billy bides his time in responding and Max feels less confident about the next clever response her brain formulates.

She looks at him and notices his smile starting like an acid spill on his face.

"Think I need cash so bad, Max? Like your whore mother?"

Max feels the sting. First in her heart. Then, in her eyes.

"That's why she married my dad in the first place, right?" Billy releases a mocking laugh. "That's why we're stuck in this country hole, right?" With one hand, he blindly grabs the front of her shirt, pulls her forward. Then he takes his eyes off the road for a moment to see what fear he provoked in Max. Satisfied, Billy pushes her back. "I'm not some charity case. I wouldn't stoop so low to rob that little freak."

Teary eyes and red faced. Billy sees it all on his step-sister and gloats.

As the camaro pulls up to the school parking lot, the walkways are swarming with students. Once they park, Max steps out first and is quickly lost in the chattering throng of smelly preteens. Now alone, Billy flicks out his cigarette and strides down the hill leading to the entrance of Hawkins High.

A trio of girls ogle him, snickering to themselves, jaws smacking gum. Meanwhile on the middle school side of campus, the public bus halts and first unloads Mr. Clarke. After him, dirty sneakers hop off the last step leading outside, a polite wave is sent to the grumpy bus driver, and Louise walks towards the entrance of Hawkins Middle School dressed in new clothes. This outfit might be more suitable for someone her age.

. — . — . — .

The receptionist at the front desk eyes her over the rim of her glasses, neck straps swinging lightly from the temples.

"Who're you lookin' for hun?"

"M-my...m…Mm.. Mother's nephew."

"Your cousin?" she clarifies.

Louise nods.

"Well," the pen sinks in her grip. "What's his name?"

Louise is momentarily distracted when a group of passing boys rough house with each other. She studies their faces. Wrong boys, she determines.

"Excuse me?"

Her eyes turn back to the woman at the desk.

"What's your cousin's name?" She repeats impatiently.

"Oh...Uh...W-Will...B-B-Byers."

"And what's this visit for?"

"To...uhm…"

"Wait, don't tell me," her expression becomes terse and Louise panics silently.

"His mother sent you?"

She hardly has time to answer when the woman suddenly throws a look over her shoulder and says to the coworker filing paperwork behind her.

"Lisa, you owe me lunch at Jerry's."

"Joyce at it again?"

"You know it. Three time streak, missy. And she sends his cousin this time instead of his brother. Figured it'd be around the school's lunch break that she'd want to check on him." The receptionist looks at Louise. "Honey, you really should go back. And tell your Auntie to stop wasting your lunchtime. I'll give your teacher a call to excuse you the first fifteen minutes of class. What's your name?"

"N-no, it's fine. I'm only a l-little late."

"I'm sure whichever teacher you have won't appreciate you just waltzing in—"

Louise scurries out of the main office before the receptionist wheedles her into giving a name that doesn't exist. What is she supposed to do now? Hang around until school ended?

Brother.

An idea peals in her head and she pushes through the front doors.

When the bell rings, it's during the passing period on her way to the cafeteria, does Max see Louise on her way out, and in the direction of the high school.

. — . — . — .

"So, beach boy, you catch some wild waves down in California?"

Billy sifts through the spaghetti on his tray with a fork.

His eyes trail up the chest of the fiery red-head sitting in front of him.

"Sure. But, definitely not the only thing I'd catch," Billy replies. It wasn't supposed to be a joke, yet those around him laugh anyway.

Her brow quirks amusedly as she worries a painted lip with her teeth.

The boy next to him nudges his shoulder. "Man, it's gotta be a drag coming out here to Indiana. I'd hate it."

"Billy, you've gotta teach me how to surf," the redhead says. Her friend off to the side nods excitedly. Tiff, her name was? Billy doesn't try to get it right in his head, because he won't feel bad when he gets it wrong. "Definitely take us out to the coast, yeah? For the summer? We could take a road trip in your sexy car."

"It's a camaro, Vick," one of the boys corrects.

"Still a fucking car."

"That baby's a '78, isn't it?" someone else asks.

Billy doesn't put much effort anymore into the conversation - - his attention had become short-stocked a long time ago. It makes him look forward to the gym. But, the birds still flock because he's the new obsession even though he might not be good at the new kid gig. The girls eye him like candy, and he'll put up the front that's he's really sweet, when actually he's all sour.

"There'll be a party at my place."

Billy looks up, tries to find the airy voice and spots the brunette with fluffed bangs beside him.

"Yeah? When?"

"Tomorrow night," she flips her hair over her shoulder and he can see the side of her neck, the curve of her jaw. "Mommy and Daddy will be gone for a week, and it's Halloween. It'll be rad. So, how about it, newcomer?"

He snorted softly and drank from the cup of water sitting on his tray. When he doesn't answer in the time she would've liked, her expression turns slightly sardonic.

"What?" she asks. "Not gonna go because you'd feel bad about the cute doll you left behind in California?"

Doll. Billy couldn't stop his teeth from gnashing together as he puts the plastic cup down. He made an astonishing effort not to show anyone his dawning annoyance and surprised himself that he didn't fail.

"I don't do 'cute'," Billy replies derisively.

And the girls around him laugh, hiding the traces of their nervousness — consciously reflecting on themselves on whether they fit that description in Billy's eyes and silently hoping they don't. The two boys there grin.

Billy could feel their eyes as he brushed a lock of hair from his face.

"If it's lame," he says lowly, "I'm bailing."

The girl's plastic smile widens. "Oh trust me, you go hard or you go home."

The school bell announces the end of the lunch period and Billy walks to his locker. A familiar brunette stands to his side, denying a timid student access to her books who says nothing when given a venomous glare and ducks away down the hall. Billy hates how the submissive reaction echoes the behavior of someone else he'd been trying to keep off his mind.

"Billy," the brunette says, bearing a smile. All teeth.

"Tiff."

"It's 'Tina' actually," she casually inspects her nails, "You said you don't do 'cute'. What'd ya mean by that?"

Billy breathes heavily when he grabs his book, a wry smirk playing upon his lips.

"You tried looking up the word in a dictionary?"

Tina laughs.

"Uh, no. I think I know. I just wanted to hear it from you." Through her hooded eyes, he can see her intrigue. "If you don't do "cute" what do you do?"

In the background, books thump to the floor unnoticed. A boy's soft voice fumbles for an apology.

Looking at Tina, Billy is reminded of his type. Flawless faces, fuller figures, lighter hair colors, eyes that don't swallow the sunlight. Her mascara and her shadow give the allure of a woman. He likes her style.

Billy leans in, lowers his face to her ear. "I do fun," he says. "Are you fun, Tina?"

Tina blinks and in a nervous bout which accompanies her blush, she says, "I...I…— " And the rest of her answer is lost from his focus when he hears:

"It's okay. M-my name is...is Louise."

Amongst the various conversations filling the hall, he wouldn't have heard her voice if he weren't looking for it. But, the emptiness in his chest has been giving way to a uniquely unwanted feeling of need, one that couldn't be satisfied by forged smiles and fake faces and flirtations.

His attention swings around the door of his locker and he spots on the other end of the hall two students crouched down to the floor, sharing shy smiles and bubbles of laughter. Each a book in their hand.

"I'm Jonathan," was the meek reply.

At length, he sees the girl in a plaid skirt and suspenders, white button shirt, and knee high socks, hair done in a high ponytail revealing the column of her neck. No bruises. All unblemished, unbattered skin. Billy feels his tonsils contract.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking," the boy takes the book from her and quickly rises.

There's a broad smile Billy had never seen on her before and the heat in his veins is instant and quiet and it simmers.

"Y-you're fine," Louise simpers and her hand is outstretched after she stands. "L-let's start...over?"

It didn't pass his notice she had forgone the orange gloves from the first night he had met her. She's going to do to that kid what she had done to Billy. Hurt him. To get what she wants. Because she's a manipulative wench and Billy can't understand why he'd suddenly feel guilty calling her that in his head.

Tina's mouth falls agape when Billy neglects her and slams his locker closed. He strides to the couple at the end. When a hand attempts to accept Louise, she sees Billy first and hastily steps away before their touch could be sealed. Louise averts her gaze to the ground as he glares at the boy.

Yes, soft. That's what he was. Soft clothes, soft voice, soft eyes. Billy was certain he could break him as effortlessly as he could snap a cigarette in half.

"You...Who do you think you are?"

"J-Jonathan…"

"What's your last name, moron?"

Jonathan's lips twitch into a frown. "B-Byers…"

"Byers…" Billy repeats with a scoff. "I guess you two are good for eachother." He glances at Louise whose hands are clenched into frantic, uncomfortable fists. "A couple of wusses with a stutter."

Passing students observe the exchange with equal amounts of amusement and worry.

"Billy…" Louise calls— a distraction on her part.

His gaze sharpens on her.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

She ignores the question and he feels foolish that he let her divert his attention from Byers when she says to the boy:

"I'm...sorry about this. S-see you later?"

Jonathan nods, briskly making way to leave before the situation he hadn't asked for could escalate. But, Billy doesn't desist.

"Don't think I'm gonna forget your face."

Jonathan acknowledges with a curt duck of his head and escapes.

Before Billy confronts Louise, there's an amused whistle and when he turns to look at the source of the sound, a student approaches them with his strait-laced girlfriend half a step behind.

"Already off to a great start. What'd he do?" The boy asks, jerking his head to the side to flick back the lush bangs falling into his eyes.

"Not your business." Billy grunts.

Eyebrows shoot up. "Listen, New guy, I know you might think the school's been tripping over itself since you showed up, but this isn't your kingdom to trash."

Billy looks at him appraisingly. "What? And it's yours?"

The boy considers this with a smirk and shrugs. "Ask anyone here."

He feels a light pressure on the sleeve of his denim jacket. Looking down his arm, Louise's expression is beseeching, lined with a hint of impatience. This surprises him.

When the boy pointedly watches them, Billy experiences a dash of embarrassment and wrests his arm back. Louise assumes a look of dejection and the girlfriend notices.

"Hey, are you new too?" She introduces lightly. "Don't think I've seen you in any of my classes before. I'm Nancy Wheeler."

"Hi," she answers. "I'm Louise."

Wheeler looks intent on approaching when Billy's sneer stops her.

"Go bother someone else, will you?"

The girl stops in her tracks, confused.

"Hey," the boy warns. "Don't talk to her like that."

"Steve, don't." Wheeler says, "It's fine."

Billy grins. "Really listen to her, Stevie. It might do you some good."

He enjoys the next moment, the one where "Steve" and "Nancy" exchange glances and mutually decide to give in.

"Whatever," Steve turns away with an exasperated huff, taking Nancy's elbow. "I'm not going to be late for class because of this guy."

Billy smirks and then is solemn when he notices that Louise has slipped away. He hunts her down around the corner into a hall that's sparse with students shuffling to their classrooms, too busy to notice them. She yelps when he seizes her by the bicep.

"Thought you could run, kitten?" Billy says harshly into her ear. "You tried that, remember? Didn't work out so well, if I recall."

Louise makes a small noise of protest as he drags her out one of the exits that leads to the back of the buildings. As the school bell screams into the October air, Billy drives Louise into the brick wall. Her hands shoot out for his face, but he catches both wrists and pins them to her sides.

Billy tuts. "Old tricks, Louise."

"'B-bout time you l-learned."

Billy laughs but there's little humor to be found in it. Out of impulse, his eyes rove down her frame. Louise purses her lips, maintains his stare. Billy derives a certain degree of pleasure from this. He brings his face closer to her. Smells…

Clean.

"You still owe me." He accuses coldly.

"If it's m-money..."

"No. I want to know why you're here and what you are."

Louise's brow furrows in her silence.

Billy's hand tighten around her thin wrists.

"F-For someone who wants me to stay away…" she begins. "You have a b-bad habit of c-coming too-close."

His lips part but no sounds emerge. Billy is caught in yesterday, even though he's tried so hard to forget about it. Once he swallows, he realizes his throat had gone dry and looks at hers, searching for some type of assurance— that he didn't actually harm her last night.

Louise must've seen something in him to have caused her to waver.

"I'm sorry…"

He automatically thinks it ironic that she's apologizing.

"Why?"

"For touching you."

He wanted to laugh. Or scream for the impatience which cuts through him like a razor. He wanted to tell her that's she's stupid, she's so inexplicably stupid for whatever compels the words to fall from that small mouth shaped like a rosebud.

"Then why do it if you regret that much?"

"You... scared me." She confesses, a look of paralyzing sadness on her face. "If...If you f-feared someone would harm you, w-would you have— done nothing?"

The question is a trigger to his memories and when he sees her eyes dim, it's a telling sign that she knows the effect it has on him. Because she's seen them too. Those intimate parts of him forbidden from anyone's knowing, now her privilege. He should feel robbed or violated, but Billy can't muster either sentiment to provoke him into anger.

You would know...all about being— k-kicked like a bitch, wouldn't you?

Billy releases her, aware that he was becoming too accustomed to her presence, that his body is ever more reactive to her closeness. Like this, with no one else watching, his limbs were humming with warmth. It's a phase, he tells himself. He hasn't been laid since he came to Hawkins.

Billy steps back and sighs through his nose. Louise looks at him as though he's about to say something. But, nothing comes. He really has to go to class. His dad will kill him if he discovers he's played hooky. As he walks away, Louise says:

"I...need him."

He stops with his hand on the door handle. "Who?"

"J-Jonathan B-Byers."

Whatever Billy feels is making his heartbeat break out into a bitter riot, he tries to ignore it.

"Good luck then."

Billy clenches his jaw. Was she justifying herself for his sake? Either way, as he re-enters the building with her stare on his back, satisfaction is an inkling in his conscience.