A/N: This chapter was meant to be longer, but I just decided to split it up into two parts.

Apologies Part I

After a restless night, constantly tossing in her sheets, running through her options on how to "set things straight," and imagining different scenarios in her head to fix her blunder, Max came to a grueling, daring decision of what needed to be done:

"I need to apologize to Billy."

Now that she said it aloud to herself in the mirror, it seemed totally mild and maybe even anticlimactic. Compared to a second ago, it felt doing so would mean the end of the world, and her dignity, which was pretty much the same thing. "Apologizing" was way at the bottom of her "How To Set Things Straight With Billy" list, right under "Let Billy run me over with his car" because–Ugh! Just the thought of making an effort to say two simple words to an aggressive asshole like him made her want to hurl. Yes, it was the simplest and safest solution, but the dumbest thing she could think of. Well, not the dumbest. She had considered explaining the demodogs, Demogorgons, and whatever demo-thing there was to Billy (#1 on her list), but he'd probably just think she was crazy. Hell, she thought Lucas was crazy when he told her. It took nearly getting her head gnawed off by that faceless nightmare for her to fully believe him.

Still, the idea of apologizing was dumb in its own right. Billy wouldn't care for an apology, let alone one from her after what happened last night. He'd probably just shove it right down her throat, along with other crude insults. But what else could she do? No way was she insane enough to approach Neil (dead last on her list). Admitting to knocking Billy out and taking his car and letting him take the blame for it was like asking to be thrown into a fire. Then again, Neil was so untrusting of Billy, he might not even believe her. Even if she did tell him, what would be the point now? Billy already had his ass handed to him. Plus, if she mentioned the car and morphine thing, she'd have to come up with another lie about those weird creatures, and that would most likely do more harm than good.

So, the least she could do was apologize to Billy. She could figure out her next move later. Maybe.

"Hurry up! We don't got all day!" Billy called from the living room.

Max quickly pinned the hair in her face to one side, grabbed her duct-taped skateboard, and lugged her backpack over her shoulder.

Maybe I should rethink this, she thought, straightening her dark green sweatshirt.

No. She had to follow through, no matter how overbearing Billy would be.

"Max, I swear to god, If you make me late, I will strand you out in the middle of the forest and feed you to the wolves!"

Or maybe she should shove him in front of a bus.

"Let's go!"

"I'M COMING!"

Max rushed out to the living room, immediately met with an icy glare from her stepbrother. Neil and her mother were already gone. They must have been since Billy openly threatened to feed her to wild dogs. And he looked serious about it too.

Billy turned on his heels, bursting through the front door, not bothering to hold it open for her. The bastard. Ugh, this apology would be a difficult one, but she was determined. For how long, she didn't know. But when the time came, she wanted to make it crystal clear that she was apologizing only for not speaking up and for letting his father think she walked home. To hell with anything else.

The two made their way to either side of Billy's Chevrolet Camaro. Billy opened his side of the door. Max tried hers, but it wouldn't budge. She tried again. Nothing.

She looked up to protest but stopped when she saw Billy's arm hanging on his door, tapping his keys as he stared at her. Now that she was in the light, Billy's face looked like a molding apple. Not as swollen as last night, but definitely more bruised. She didn't get a very good look at it from across the hall yesterday, but damn. Compared to Steven's damage, Neil really did a number on him. She could even see the finger-shaped bruises around his neck that Billy attempted to hide with his denim collar.

"Max."

The call of her name snapped her to attention. Billy was scowling at her, a look of great bitterness carved into his face. What the hell was he staring at her like that for? Probably preparing to shout another threat or insult at her.

Billy shifted, leaning on top of the car now. He bounced his leg, tapping the key on the roof, churning his jaw as though to say something. But then he clamped it shut.

What is he–

That's when she remembered.

"You're going to apologize to Maxine for your behavior and mean it."

Neil's words.

Was Billy trying to apologize to her? Already? She didn't think he'd attempt it so soon. Guess he wanted to get it out of the way as soon as possible.

Fine by me, she thought. This way, it would make her own apology easier.

Billy snapped his head away, mumbling something she couldn't understand. "Just hurry up and get in the car," he finally said.

He slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut, leaving Max outside dumbfounded. The hell was that? A pathetic attempt at an apology, that's what. How much pride could one guy have?

Click.

The door unlocked. Max got in the car and closed the door. Billy shifted in his seat slightly, giving a small hiss as he adjusted himself before putting the keys in the ignition and speeding off.

The ride was excruciatingly quiet, minus the Camaro's obnoxiously loud motor. Max glanced over from time to time to see Billy lost in thought, his brows knitted in contemplation. Was he going to make another attempt?

Doubt it, she thought.

Max wondered when she should speak up and get her own apology over with. Should she wait for the right moment or just rip the band-aid off?

Come on, Max, she told herself. Just do it already. Incur his wrath and get it over with. It's two simple words. It's not like you're apologizing for jabbing him in the neck or threatening him with a bat. You're just going to tell him you're sorry for, well, not telling the truth, I guess. Just . . . take your time . . . catch your breath. You can do this. You can do this in 3, 2 . . .

A minute passed.

Then two.

Three.

Five.

Ten.

Max caught her breath until Billy parked the car in the school parking lot.

Damn it. Maybe this apologizing thing was harder than it looked.

Billy cut the car off, but neither of them attempted to move. Now was her chance. Get it out of the way. Now!

Max turned to Billy, ready to speak, but she clamped her mouth shut when he threw a finger in her face, speaking in a low, menacing tone.

"Not a word of last night to anyone," he said, wagging a finger. "If I find out you did, you and your little loose lips will regret it, understand?"

A large portion of Max's motivation quickly deflated. She narrowed her eyes. Not once did she consider blabbing her mouth about last night. Why would she?

"Answer me," he said, raising his voice slightly. "Do you understand?"

Max waited a moment. Then gave a brisk nod. She turned to exit the car, but the click of the lock sounded.

"Say it," Billy said.

Max scrunched her face.

"Say. It."

"Yeah, yeah."

"No. Say you understand."

Max's eye twitched. "I. Under–stand," she said through tight lips.

Billy leaned back, seemingly satisfied. He unlocked the door, but Max didn't move. She could have walked away, left it at that. She should have, but she also didn't have to take his crap.

"Don't you have something to say to me?" she said.

Billy gave her a questioning look, removing a cigarette from his breast pocket. "And what would that be?"

Max simply stared as she watched him roll down the window and place the cigarette in his mouth. He fished out the lighter from his pocket, chuckling.

"Oh," he finally said. "You mean the apology." He lit his cigarette and took a puff before slowly blowing it in Max's face. "I ain't apologizing for shit. Why should I? None of this was my fault. But you know exactly whose fault this is."

"Not all of this was my fault, Billy. No one told you to hurt Lucas and Steve."

He blew out smoke, this time from his nose. "And no one told you to leave the house."

Billy dangled his arm out the window, looking at the students passing by before turning back to her. Max was unmoved, her gaze focused. Serious. He chuckled again.

"You want an apology that bad? Fine." Billy looked her dead in the eyes, turning his whole body to her. "I'm. Sorry."

Max blinked, cocking her head to the side. Did he really just say it? Just like that? She blinked again. She wasn't expecting it to come out so effortlessly from him.

Finally, Max composed herself. "I–"

"Sorry for you being a selfish, conniving, little bitch that keeps getting me in trouble and ruining everything. How's that for an apology?" Billy took another puff, leaned back in his seat, and flicked the cigarette out the window.

For the third time in less than five minutes, Max was stunned. Her jaw tightened, face burned. At that moment, all guilt was gone.

"Maybe you should try that apology again," she said, stiff-necked. "You know, before tonight? Wouldn't want your dad repeating yesterday again, would you?"

Billy narrowed his eyes. If looks could kill.

"Watch it, Max."

She shrugged. "Just trying to help. I mean, if your dad happens to ask me about today, I don't think I'll have it in me to lie."

"Like you did before?" He paused. "I apologized. And I'll tell him. Leave it at that."

"You're right. I should." She grabbed the handle to the door. "I mean, your own dad would believe me over you anyway, wouldn't he? That's why you didn't even bother to tell him I took your car. Sad that you're not even trusted by your own father."

Billy frowned, nostrils flared, steam visible from his ears. Max opened the car door, but he reached over, yanking it shut before snatching her by the arm.

"Listen, you little shit. I'm not the one who decided to sneak out just to hang out with the likes of Lucas Sinclair. You could have stayed in the house and done as you were told like a normal girl, but no! You had to wander around with a crow like the freak you are." He gripped tighter. Max tried to pull away, but he just yanked her back. "This is all your fault, all of it! It's all your fault I'm in this mess to begin with. And I'm not about to have you getting me in more trouble. I apologized, and that's. That."

Tears welled in Max's eyes. Her lip quivered, but her gaze stayed fixed. "Didn't sound like you meant it. I wonder how your dad will act when I tell him. That."

Billy's eyes slightly widened. His grip loosened just enough for Max to snatch her arm away from him, unlock the door, and high-tail it out of there. She sprinted through the crowd, not bothering to use her skateboard. Other kids eyed her with curiosity as she barged her way through them, but she didn't care. Max just wanted as much distance from that heartless son of a bitch as possible.

Screw his apology. Screw her apology.

I hope he gets beaten again.

Max stopped dead in her tracks, surprised by her own thought.

Did I really just think that?

She gripped her skateboard tight, standing only a few feet from the double doors. She bit her lip, so ashamed it felt she would wither away. That was so distasteful, even for her. The whole reason she set out to apologize was because she didn't like that happening to him. Max remembered his screams, the way his cries blistered her ears. She shuddered. No. No, she didn't want to see him beat again at all. She just wanted . . . She just wanted . . .

I just want him to treat me like an actual person.

Max looked back to Billy's blue Camaro. Billy was as still as a deer's gaze in the headlights. He just sat there hunched over, staring down at the steering wheel with an expression Max couldn't quite read. Anger? Frustration? Sorrow? But she continued to watch; her curiosity wouldn't let her look away.

Billy lifted his hands, unsure of what he wanted to do with them. He reached for the door. Reached for the keys. Reached for the cigarette in his pocket only to put it back. After a moment, he gripped his hair, ruffling it in a fury before letting out a heated breath, his body growing tense to the point of shaking. And he just sat there, eyes unblinking.

He raised his hands again, this time cupping his face before dragging them down to his chin and sinking into his seat. In that instance, Max knew exactly what he was feeling. The haunted look in his eyes was undeniable.

Pure panic.