No Promises

"Hello. Hawkins Credit Union. How may I help you?"

"Hi. Is Susan May—I mean Hargrove available?"

"Yes. May I ask who's calling?"

"It's Max, her daughter."

"One moment please."

Max held the phone to her ear as she eyed the twenty between her fingers. Ever since Friday, Max couldn't get Will's words out of her head. Was Billy really trying to thank her? She didn't even think he knew how. Didn't even think he knew what the words meant.

As soon as they finished cleaning the dining room after their encounter with Neil, Billy drove straight to the hospital. Max had to tag along because they planned to go straight to the police station right after, which was fair since she was the main witness and was the only one who remembered the license plate number. However, they didn't plan to be at the hospital until ten o'clock at night. They had to wait nearly four hours just to get six stitches. Max wondered how a hospital could be so slow with so few patients, but to her surprise, Billy didn't grumble about the wait, not once.

Max caught him checking his watch from time to time, but figured he wanted to make it down to the station before it got too late. At first, she thought he was milking the time to be out of the house away from Neil, but then it occurred to her that Neil might have been waiting for them to get back to make sure Billy did as he was told. Like he kept him under his microscope.

When they were called back, she sat in the room and watched a lady give him six stitches. Max saw her fair share of injuries from skateboarding, but she'd never actually seen someone stitched up. From her chair in the corner, she tilted her head, watching intently as the lady tugged on the thread, only turning away when Billy locked eyes with her, giving her that "mind your own business" look.

The nurse had made a face at Billy when he asked for a note afterward to say he'd received treatment. She couldn't seem to fathom why, especially since it was way past school hours. He didn't elaborate who it was for, but Max knew it was his alibi. She hadn't even thought of getting one, but the fact that Billy did meant he was determined to avoid any other punishments from Neil for the time being. Although with the way he watched the second hand on the clock tick by, she wondered if he was merely counting down to something inevitable.

As expected, Neil was up and waiting when they arrived. It felt like he was still itching for an excuse to punish Billy, like he'd been timing them or something to make sure Billy did as he was told. One slip-up was enough for him. But Billy was quick to show him the note explaining why they were so late. Neil eyed the hospital slip like it was an overpriced bill before crumpling it in his hand. With a grumble, he told them to go to the station after school tomorrow before sending Billy off to bed.

"You too, Maxine." Neil's words were dark. Targeted.

Max scrunched her face. "But I haven't eaten dinner yet."

"Seemed to me like you and Billy were having a meal before I walked in the house. Unless I imagined it?"

Neil stared her down, daring her to talk back. He knew full well that she hadn't been the one eating at that table, but Max held her tongue. There was something dangerous in his eyes, like an animal waiting for his moment to strike. She could have sworn he gave her the same look as he did Billy. And with a sinking feeling in her gut, she realized right then that Billy wasn't the only one under his microscope.

Right after school that Friday, Billy and Max went down to file a police report. Max and Hopper exchanged quick nods. He looked shabby with tousled hair sticking up in all directions and sleep-deprived with dark bags under his eyes, which seemed to be the norm. She hadn't talked to him much, if at all. Just saw how he worked the gun when preparing to face those monsters. He was like a father ready to die protecting his family.

"Never caught your name," he said.

"It's Max."

"Well, Max . . . Something wrong?"

He eyed her intently, and she shook her head. "Nothing . . . out of the ordinary. No wild dogs or anything."

Hopper understood, but Billy was at a loss, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two with a furrowed brow as he tried to wrap his head around how the two seemed to know each other.

"So we're friends with cops now?" he muttered.

"And you are?" Hopper said, turning to Billy.

"Billy Hargrove . . . sir."

Max rolled her eyes. He always put on that respective tone only when talking to adults. He lost all filters when it came to anyone else, especially her. Still, his tones were always easy when talking to older women, but when it came to certain men, it always had a small bite to it.

"Right," Hopper said, sitting on the desk. "The kid who bashed Steve Harrington's face in."

Billy clenched his jaw and peered over at Hopper with hard eyes. It was like he wanted to say something, but then thought better of it when he let out a dramatic sigh. "He had it coming," he mumbled.

"Uh-huh . . ." Hopper just stared for a moment before nodding towards Billy's stitches. "Those look pretty fresh. You come here to report a brawl?"

"Or, I don't know, a car wreck?" Billy snapped, causing Max to shift in her seat uncomfortably. Just another grown-up quick to make the wrong assumptions, he thought.

Hopper raised a brow and leaned forward on the desk. He started to raise a finger, and Billy stiffened in his chair. Max could see Billy growing tense so she stepped in, explaining the wreck. She gave Hopper the license plate of the dark green Ford Mustang that drove off.

"I'll be right on it," he said in a gruff voice, casting another semi-glare at Billy.

And she knew he meant it. She got the feeling if she didn't know him, it would have taken longer, but because of shared experiences, he tracked them down in less than 24 hours. That Saturday afternoon, he called their house, explaining the driver that t-boned them was charged with a hit and run. He didn't have insurance. Figures.

Neil hadn't liked the news, as he'd seemed more irritated than normal when he'd brought Billy into the living room to sharply remind him he needed a job. "Those repairs are coming out of your pocket. Do I make myself clear?" he'd growled. Max wondered if he was mostly angry because Hopper had confirmed it wasn't actually Billy's fault after all, which meant Neil couldn't punish him for it.

Billy still treaded lightly, almost like he was walking on eggshells. He'd dodged a major bullet, and that gave his dad no wiggle room to reload. But it was always better to play it safe.

. . .

Max twirled the phone cord in her room between her fingers and stared at the twenty. She thought about going to the arcade to spend the money but decided against it. She didn't trust it, not completely anyway. No way he gave that to her as a thank you. She rubbed the side of her temple with a wince; she could feel the beginnings of a headache. Great, she thought. Just what I need right now.

Billy had still ignored her all weekend. She thought many times about going up to him, but it wasn't like she could just ask him if he was thanking her. He'd deny it. 100%, and probably say something mean to trigger a response. She fought with herself about it the entire time. After thinking about Will's words, she wanted to talk to Billy alone. To see if Will was right. There's no way he could be right, she kept telling herself. It wasn't until that Monday that she decided to finally act.

"Hello?"

"Hey, mom."

"Maxine? Why aren't you in class? Didn't school start already?"

"Yeah . . . About that . . . Do you remember how I said Billy was taking me to school this morning?"

Billy's repair appointment was in the early morning during school hours, and to Max, that meant it was the perfect time to be alone with him. Naturally, Neil would never allow Max to skip school, so yesterday, Max lied to her mom. "Billy's going to drop me off at school, and Lucas's mom will drop me off back home." She felt a little guilty since the real plan was to skip school and go with Billy, of whom she hadn't told her plan to. In fact, he had no idea she was still in the house.

Max heard Billy's door open and the jingle of keys as he trotted down the hall. Max quickly got up from her bed, hurrying before he left.

"Mom, I'm going with Billy to the auto shop so don't be surprised if you get a call that I'm absent from school, ok bye!" Max spewed.

"Wait, Max!"

But she quickly hung up the phone and rushed out of the room with her green jacket before her mom could stop her or complain about his car and safety or missing school. She ignored the way her head twinged in pain and scrambled to shove her arms into her jacket.

She flew through the front door, Billy already preparing to take his car to the shop. Max sprinted through the grass and just hopped in without a word before he started pulling off. He did a double take, his eyes wide.

"No. No!" he said, putting the car in park. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"What does it look like?" She fixed herself in the seat, snapping on her seatbelt.

"Max!" he said with an irritated groan, "You're supposed to be at—No! This is going to get me in trouble, again!" He knocked his head against the back of the seat and pointed at the door. "Get the hell out of my car."

"No, I want to go with you. Besides . . . I told my mom just now . . ."

His eyes went wide for a moment and he scowled. "No. This is one of the only times I can have solitude. Away from you. So get out or I'll drag you out."

"Are you really going to make me play dirty?"

He raised a brow in question, almost like it was a dare.

"Fine," Max said with a sigh. She reached into her jacket pocket and slapped a nearly empty tube of ointment on the dash. She'd quickly grabbed the small tube when she spotted it on the bathroom floor last night. She wasn't sure what sort of bargaining chip she might need, but something told her to bring it just in case.

He huffed a laugh, almost mocking. "Ointment? Really?"

"Over half this tube is gone."

"And?"

"Seems to me like it's been used, no?"

"What makes you think I need ointment?"

She gave a shrug of indifference. "So I could just toss it out the window then?"

He laughed, giving a snarky smile. "You think I'm gonna fold over some ointment?"

"No. I think you're gonna fold because you're not supposed to be using it."

His smile vanished. It was an unspoken rule that after a beating, you don't rub, and you don't cater to it, including no ointment. If you were caught, there was a high chance he'd do it again. She'd caught onto this a long time ago when she'd noticed Neil would smack at Billy's hand anytime it inched close to his behind, or how painkillers from the medicine baskets would suddenly disappear after a punishment was dished out. Neil wanted him to feel it, to be reminded for as long as the pain lasted and then some. But over time, Neil seemed to slip. Whether or not Billy was taking advantage of that, she wasn't sure. But when she found that ointment on the floor, a lightbulb went off. She was almost positive he'd dropped it after his shower. It made sense why he was using it; those lashes had to have gone deep.

Billy tightened his jaw and glowered at her. "You're not gonna tell," he said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"No . . . but who's to say I won't accidentally leave it out where he could see?"

His eyes darkened even more. "You would risk getting me in trouble for not taking you to a repair appointment?"

No, Max thought. But she stared him down, hoping he wouldn't call her bluff. She knew this would make him loathe her even more, especially after all those times she tried to atone, but this was all she could think of at the moment.

He stared, his eyes like daggers as he churned his jaw. Contemplating.

When he said nothing, Max shrugged. "Better hurry before you miss your appointment."

Billy gave a heated exhale before putting the car in drive. "You're so annoying."

She gave a small sigh of relief and settled into her seat. She rubbed at the back of her neck to ease the tension and ignore the little beads of sweat that formed on her temple. Something about arguing with Billy always seemed to zap the energy out of her. There was something different about this time though; their words didn't hold the same mirth as before, like they were both eager for the conversation to come to an end so they could move on.

She leaned toward the window and let the cool air soothe her. She told herself that maybe a small power nap would make the time go by faster.

They waited in the lobby of the auto shop. The buzz of the TV filled the small room as it played Family Feud.

As they waited, Max looked around. Besides the white walls, the place reminded her of the bus station close to their house back in San Diego–dim, dingy, and dirty. She stared at the empty, black chairs across from her. She could have sat in any of them, but she chose the seat right next to Billy, against his protest. Max noticed he wasn't squirming in his chair anymore. He hadn't for a couple days now. That ointment must do wonders.

Billy leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, finger tapping. A few minutes ago, he was sifting through the paper for local jobs. All weekend, he scoured the want ads, drove around a lot, and pressed a lot of flesh, but still came up short. Now, he sat looking up at the ceiling, the paper long abandoned on the small table beside him. Guess he didn't like any of them.

Billy was going to have to start taking the bus during break. Which meant she'd have to start taking the bus too. He absolutely hated public transportation. Unpredictable arrival times meant more chances of being late, which meant he'd have to get up extra early just to make sure he'd get to his destinations on time. It was too slow for him. And on top of that, he'd never be caught dead taking a date on a bus. If Max didn't figure things out soon, his mood was only going to get worse once he started taking the bus.

She turned to him, remembering her goal. She wanted to know for sure why he gave her the twenty, but she didn't want to just blubber, "Were you thanking me?" He'd deny it for sure. But she wasn't sure how to approach or ask.

"How long do you think it'll take for them to fix your car?" she said.

"However long it takes. If you have a problem with that, you shouldn't have come."

"I don't mind waiting." It was a half-truth. On any other day, she would have never waited inside an auto shop, but she was antsy and determined, trying to make conversation to find the opening she needed to ask him about the money. ". . . But, it wouldn't hurt to help pass the time." She paused. "Are you hungry? We could go to a Burger Chef down the street," she attempted.

He said nothing.

"Wendy's?"

Nothing.

"McDonald's?"

Nothing.

"Come on. You have to be hungry. It wouldn't hurt to kill some time."

"I thought you didn't mind waiting," he said.

She sighed at the irritation in his voice. At least he finally spoke to her. "Fine, if you're not hungry then . . . we could walk through downtown . . . Look at some clothes?"

Nothing.

"Shoes?"

Nothing.

"The arcade?"

"I'm not going to a damn arcade."

"What about the radio store?"

Silence.

"Kragen auto?"

Silence.

Max held in a huff. "You should go . . . somewhere. I mean, you're kind of grounded now. And after finals, you're caged."

"Ma-aax," he said in that sing-songy voice. A warning. He turned to her slowly. "Shut up before I gag you."

She paused, but only for a moment. "What about the record store?"

He sat up straight and gave a gruff sigh. "Look, you forced me to bring you along, so sit there and Shut. Up."

Max ignored him and chewed her lip as she tried to think of something else to say. "We don't have to buy anything–"

"I swear to god, Max . . ."

"We could just look around–"

"Max–"

"–and see what's around town–"

"Max!" She jumped, stunned by the steep raise of his voice. He quickly turned to face her, that dangerous rage flashing in his eyes. She leaned away from him. "Zip. It."

And she did.

For over an hour, she sat in silence, watching TV as she waited for Billy's anger to dim. Eventually, he got up to stretch his legs. "Don't go anywhere," he said before leaving the room. Max sighed. She needed to up her game, because at this rate, she wouldn't get anywhere with him. Her head twinged again and she could feel the sweat forming on her back. Why do they have it so damn hot in here? she thought, taking off her jacket and pushing up her sleeves.

When he returned, she tried again. "What kind of job do you think you'll get?" When he said nothing, she kept going. "What about working with cars? You always work on yours in the garage at home."

He gave an impatient sigh and shook his head.

"On the bright side, having a new job means more money . . ." She paused. "You could buy a new radio . . . I hear there is a new model out now."

"No."

"Or, you could buy a new jacket . . . yours is . . . nevermind."

"Mine is what?"

"What about a new Metallica poster? You only have the one hanging up . . ."

"Max–"

"And more money means more for concerts." She pondered for a moment and then sat up in her seat. "Oh! Why don't you just go and see if they have resale tickets for Metallica now? There's still time."

Max half expected Billy to snap at her for even daring to bring up the tickets. Instead, his eyes dimmed as he slumped into his chair. "I couldn't now even if I wanted to."

"Why?"

Billy leered at her before gesturing to the hall, towards the direction of his car.

Oh . . . He had to pay for repairs with his ticket money. She felt that dormant ball of guilt begin to unravel. Her mind went back to the side of the road . . . back to the other night in the kitchen and how Billy had circled the table, avoiding Neil at every swipe. The question came out of her before she could stop it. "Why don't you fight back when he comes at you? I've seen you fight before . . . You seem strong enough."

The room filled with a heavy silence. Billy stared blankly at the TV, ruminating. Finally, he turned to her. "Why didn't you?"

It took her a second to figure out what he meant. Then it hit her all at once. All the times he bullied her, tormented her, all the times she did nothing.

And there was only one word that came to mind.

Fear.

"You probably enjoy watching him do it anyway," he snapped, the irritation at her bringing up the topic apparent now.

"No! Never!" The words came out like bullets before she could think.

He scoffed. "What a load of crap. If that were true, you wouldn't blackmail me with the threat of him doing it again. By my count, you've done it over three times now."

"No I haven't."

Billy's eyes went wide at her audacity. He counted on his fingers. "Threatening to tell Neil I didn't mean my apology, running off god knows where after school, your disappearing acts and pranks, and now the ointment."

Max winced each time he listed something off. She didn't realize how many times she could have gotten him in trouble. And those weren't even the times she did get him in trouble. Guilty again.

She honestly didn't know if he'd take the bluff when it came to the ointment. Then again, she shouldn't have been surprised. She was the reason he had to use the ointment in the first place. Her threat being a bluff probably never crossed his mind. And Max knew that he figured after everything that's happened, she would probably do it.

She felt a bit guilty using that to her advantage.

Max shifted in her seat, a light blush on her cheeks. "I wasn't actually going to do it. That was just so you'd bring me along. I shouldn't have done that . . . I'm sorry."

He doesn't want your sappy apologies, remember?

"I could say the same for you," she said after a while. "You like seeing me upset and hurt."

She thought about the wreck—about the way he threw his arm over her—and wanted to take it back.

He didn't say anything. Ok, then. This wasn't going as she'd planned. She wanted to do a heart-to-heart of some kind or break the ice. But failed miserably. Now the little confidence she had that morning was gone.

Max slumped in her chair and sighed. Sure, Billy had his moments where he seemed to lop up any form of distress or annoyance that came from her when it came to his little inconveniences, but that was nothing compared to Neil, how he always seemed to seek out mistakes. To discipline first and ask questions later. The way he'd just look through billy at times like he wasn't even there. The way he had him—and even her and her mother—on a tight leash like they were his pets to control . . .

"I hate Neil," she said.

She wondered if Billy heard her because he didn't react at all. Not even a twitch. For a moment, she just sat in silence. But her eyes snapped to attention when he finally spoke.

"That's something we have in common." His voice was void of emotion. Monotone. Like this was something he'd said to himself many times before.

She was shocked by that. Not so much the truth, but that he told her.

The thing is . . . Billy was unpredictable; you never knew which him you got in a day. But sometimes, he was fun. Back in California, he let her tag along with him to a Kragen Auto then turn right around and be mean to her.

Sometimes, it seemed like he tried so hard to aggravate her, to take everything from her, to make her like him. Just the thought made her blood boil. She used the sleeve of her jacket to fan her face, the sweat now starting to tickle her brow. Wish they would turn the ceiling fans on, she thought.

Max turned to Billy. When she saw the expression on his face, her anger seemed to dissipate. His eyes were downcast like he was lost in thought. There was no anger. No annoyance. But there was something there she couldn't pinpoint. . . Something sad.

Look at his actions.

She started thinking, really thinking of memories of her time with Billy. Anything that would show her he wasn't always an arrogant dickwad. She remembered the time back in California when he let her try a cigarette for the first time. Her mother was livid. It was the first time she saw her yell at Billy. But it was also the first time he and Max shared a laugh with one another. Genuine.

Whenever she did anything rebellious like that, it had always seemed to make him happy. From that moment, she had tried to do little things to make him smile. Like that time she'd been brave enough to mouth off to her teacher. The first person she'd told was Billy. He'd given her a smirk and a nod, and it felt like acceptance. Or the first time he'd been speeding with her in the car and she'd said, "You should really come with a warning label." He'd laughed, out loud. But somewhere down the line, that all stopped, and it was impossible to pinpoint the exact moment because his moods were like a switch. He'd be her friend one day, and then the enemy the next. Eventually, it was only the enemy. He became a jerk. Or maybe he'd always been. Maybe his two-faced nature just made it hard to see . . .

The shared moments became a back-and-forth of spite-fueled words, pranks filled with mirth. Like that time he'd cut the straps on her backpack, or put coffee grounds on her sandwich. Always with that scowl on his face that told her she was a nuisance. Yet, there were still times when he could be decent. Like the time those hecklers had her backing into a corner. The mere sight of Billy walking up with that evil look on his face was enough to make them back off. He hadn't said anything after. He didn't need to. There was also that time when he told her about the best hidden skate park because the regular one was taken over by the older teens.

Max looked over at him for a moment to see him staring blankly at the wall, seemingly lost in thought. Somehow, he looked less angry. Less . . . dangerous. She let herself sink back into the memories with a small smile on her face. Her eyes grew heavy, and she couldn't fight the feeling of tiredness. She fell asleep, only thinking of the good with Billy. They seemed to come easier compared to the first time she tried.

. . .

"Hey . . . Hey. Get up. Time to go . . . Max, get up. I'm not carrying you."

Max's eyes slowly peeled open. When she woke up, she saw an older woman sitting across from her with a soft smile towards her. Max moved, catching a glimpse of something black. When she felt leather slide on her face, her heart nearly leaped out of her chest. She was on Billy's shoulder. He didn't move her or anything, but she jolted awake, thinking he'd retaliate.

He looked at his jacket, giving a disgusted sound. "You drool in your sleep?"

Max's cheeks flushed as she quickly wiped her mouth and wondered how long she'd been on his shoulder. After the drool comment, she figured a while. She held her breath and waited for him to yell at her, or more likely make her use her own jacket to clean off the drool. But he didn't. He stood and gave a stretch and shoved his hands in his pockets. She blinked, confused.

"You're not mad?"

"What are you rambling about now?"

"You didn't . . . do anything—I mean you're not . . . threatening me?"

He scoffed. "What's the point, huh? Go back and forth like we always do until someone breaks? I'd be the one to get in trouble, not you. Then you'd feel bad and try to do your stupid apologies or whatever. He smacked his lips and shook his head, staring down at the tiles as though lost in thought. "Let's just skip the crap. I don't want to owe you anything again," he mumbled.

Again? . . . Wait. She pondered his lack of retaliation . . . the fact that he wasn't completely in her face right now. The fact that he said he didn't want to owe her . . . again . . .

Something lifted in her chest. Will was right. He had been thanking her.

"Now hurry up. Let's go."

Billy went to take a step, but Max quickly grabbed him by the cuff and pulled him back down.

"Max, what the hell-!" he snapped.

"I know what I want."

"What?"

"Friday you asked what I wanted."

"We're way past that."

Not listening, she quickly pulled out the twenty-dollar bill he gave her and handed it to him. Billy looked at it briefly before turning away. She grabbed him tighter by the sleeve when he tried to stand again.

"I'll trade," she said. "I'll stop messing with you and doing things to get you in trouble or provoke you. But you have to do the same for me. You have to stop being mean to me. Deal?"

Billy said nothing. Never even looked at her. Just sat there for a minute unmoved. He pushed the twenty in Max's hand back and she lowered it with a frown.

"Do you really want things to stay the same?" she asked, hating how her voice had a waver in it.

He said nothing.

Max frowned as she stared at the money in her hand. She gave a defeated sigh. It was a long shot. But how could she change or make things better when he didn't want to?

"No promises."

Her head flew up, eyes wide with shock as Billy stood, loosening her grip on his sleeve. It wasn't a guarantee, but the fact that he said anything at all . . . It was a start. And she'd take it.

Max stuffed the twenty back in her pocket and rose from her seat with a faint smile and newfound determination. But something tugged on her shoe. Before she knew it, she was on her knees, hands sprawled on the floor. What the? Max looked back to see what tripped her and her face went cold. The shoelaces on her green Vans were tied together. And suddenly, it hit her like a wave. The reason Billy kept trying to rush her, the reason he didn't freak out and let her drool on him like that . . .

The jerk did retaliate!

Billy hovered over her and gave the faintest smirk as he shrugged. "Like I said . . . No promises."

To be continued . . .

A/N: Speaking of no promises, I may or may not be able to post next week. Just giving you all a heads up :(