Finals
Max was exhausted. All she had been able to do for the last two days was lay in bed and occasionally eat some soup or crackers. Susan was dead-set on babying her and by the time the next morning rolled around, she had decided Max would stay home from school until she began to feel better. It wouldn't have been a bad idea if it had been anything other than finals review week. Missing every single day meant that she would risk being completely unprepared for her final exams and the thought made anxiety swell within her.
Every time she made a move to grab one of her textbooks or notebooks, her mom would scold her and move the items into another room. She expected Max to sit around and do nothing all day for the rest of the week.
"At least let me look through my notes," she said with a stuffy nose that made her voice sound strange and far away.
"You need complete rest, physically and mentally. That includes studying."
"But finals are next week, and I really don't feel like failing them. You're going to have to let me take those tests, you know."
"I know, Max, but just focus on getting better right now. You can worry about your tests later." Susan coaxed her into eating another cracker and taking a few sips of water which thankfully felt okay on her stomach, but it didn't do much to ease her worry. "How about this… I'll go down to the school tomorrow and talk with your teachers to see if there's anything that can be done to get you prepared in time. Would that make you feel better?"
Max nodded and uttered a soft "Thank you" before feeling her eyelids get heavy. Susan tucked her back under the blankets so she could catch up on sleep.
Her mom missed work multiple times that week just so she could take care of Max, something that Neil wasn't exactly happy about since that meant less money coming home. But she convinced him that her being there would help her to get better that much faster which would allow her to pass her finals.
"No," he argued. "Billy can stay home and watch her."
She paused, her voice wary as she chose her words carefully. "Neil . . . you said Billy was a little behind, right? Especially because of the move. Maybe . . . with his current grades, it might be better for him to go instead of missing a week of reviews? That way he won't have to repeat his classes."
Neil stared at her a moment, churning his jaw as he contemplated. Then, he sighed. "Fine, I'll take on a few extra shifts this week to make up the difference, but she better be back in class next Monday."
Extra shifts meant Neil was out of the house more than usual which boosted Max's mood significantly. The energy at the dinner table had been calm and relaxed, something that didn't happen often when he was there. Even Billy seemed to enjoy his meals a little more and took his time eating instead of rushing to finish in order to get away from the table. Of course, he only ate after Max and her mom had finished. Without Neil there, he could skip without any repercussions.
The only downside to Susan staying home was how overly cautious she was. She didn't want to leave Max alone for more than a minute and refused to go out to get the mail or pick up groceries until Billy was home and could take over for her. Max couldn't get a single moment of peace and failed to steal even a quick glance at her schoolwork. Every time she got up to use the bathroom, her mom was at her side in an instant to ask what she was doing and what she needed. She refused to let her walk to the restroom by herself no matter how unnecessary Max insisted it was. Every single cough caused the woman to flinch and every bite of food made her hold her breath as she waited to see whether or not Max would be overcome with nausea. She was still walking on eggshells even when her appetite came back and her fever dissipated into nothing more than a slight warmth.
Max felt like she was sleeping her life away.
On Friday, Max woke from a long nap. She had glanced over at the clock on the wall and saw that it was 5:30 in the evening, and the soft sound of voices talking drifted in from elsewhere in the house. Her mom was likely in the middle of a phone call with a friend or Neil was getting ready for his second shift at work, enjoying the short amount of time he had to rest before needing to get back up.
Her eyes drifted to the small table beside her bed and she smiled when she saw a stack of homework piled up on the surface. There were thick packets of study guides and assignments as well as a few papers that seemed to have come directly from her teachers. Mom must have gone up to the school while I was asleep. The idea brought a smile to her face as a wave of relief washed through her body. I'll have to remember to thank her.
She took the opportunity to skim over the papers and make a mental note of what sections of her textbooks she would need to look over a little more closely. The reading wasn't making her head pound the way it had earlier in the week, so she guessed she was getting better.
She was shocked to see some pages holding Lucas's handwriting. He must have taken notes for her and given them to the teacher to give to her. Or to her mom. She smiled at the thought. How sweet.
Max shoved the papers back onto the pile the second she heard her mother approach her room and tried to feign just waking from her nap. If her mom caught on to the act, she didn't say anything and handed Max a bowl of soup with a few crackers on the side for her to enjoy, which she eagerly ate. She hadn't even noticed how hungry she was, and the food brought more color back to her cheeks.
She felt almost back to normal by the time the weekend rolled around and her mom finally trusted her enough to let her study, even though she made her take a break every thirty minutes to close her eyes, eat, or just stare out the window so that she wouldn't overwork her eyes. She no longer felt completely drained of energy, which was a welcome change of pace. Max even managed to go for a short walk outside to stretch her legs. She was itching to get back to school and see her friends, even if it also meant having to take a bunch of tests.
There was a level of unease in her that she knew wouldn't completely go away until finals were over. She knew she had great test-taking skills, but there was a small part of her that always feared failing and becoming a disappointment to herself and those around her. The only way to make herself feel even slightly better was to throw herself into her studies, so that's what she did. She was at a disadvantage since she had started at Hawkins in the middle of the school year instead of at the beginning like everyone else, and she was afraid of getting her tests only to find questions on them that she had never seen before. The fears were most likely all in her head, but they still persisted.
When Monday came, Max was nearly vibrating with anticipation for the beginning of finals and the promise of seeing her friends again. They had tried to visit her more than once—against her constant protest; Neil's house was never a place for friends—but her mom was adamant that she needed rest, and rest apparently meant she wasn't allowed to have visitors. She wasn't even allowed to wave at them through the window. Her only interactions had been with her mom and Billy, who shifted between acting docile around her and being his usual, antagonistic self. She had emerged from her room on more than one occasion only for him to make some snarky comment about her being "back in the world of the living."
She hadn't been dumb enough to think their relationship could change overnight, but she still thought about that one day he took care of her. Still, their dynamic was really no different but she also hadn't seen much of him after being confined to her room for a week. Maybe he had been in a better mood without Neil around. Maybe everything would go back to what it had been now that she was healthy again.
As she made her way to the living room, she wondered which version of Billy she'd get today. Hopefully, he would be too distracted by his tests to tease her or get in her way, but there was no way to know.
Max sifted through her notes from her blue folder, lowering it to look at the clock: 7:25. Where's Billy? It was nearly time to go, but he was nowhere to be seen. Unusual. She waited a few more minutes, anxiously adjusting the straps of her backpack and glancing at the clock as she did so. She eventually grew tired of standing around, gathered her folder and loose papers, and walked over to his room where she knocked lightly on the door to get his attention.
Silence.
She knocked a second time.
Silence.
Max threw her head to the ceiling and huffed. I don't have time for this! She pushed the door open.
"Billy, it's time to—" She cut herself off seeing the strange sight before her. Billy had a pencil held between his teeth as he flipped through the various books and packets of papers strewn across his bed. His eyebrows were scrunched up in intense concentration and, when he found what he was looking for, he studied it closely and added a little note to the page. Max crossed her arms, and Billy snapped his head up in surprise as he finally noticed the intruder in his room.
"Max, what the hell! Don't just barge into my room like you own the place! You don't know how to knock?!" His face had morphed from shock to irritation. He quickly moved to close all of his textbooks and shoved all the papers together.
"I did knock. It's not my fault you didn't hear me. Are you seriously doing your homework?"
"No shit, Sherlock." He rolled his eyes at her, then looked at the clock. "Shit." He scrambled to gather everything he needed for the day, including his car keys.
"Sorry, it just . . . surprised me," Max said, watching Billy rush around. "I've never seen you actually doing work before."
He scoffed as he moved through the doorway past her, "Yeah, right. Like I'm gonna spend another second at that stupid school."
Max had always assumed he flirted with a straight-A student until she agreed to do his work or bullied someone into completing it for him. The idea that he did any of it himself honestly raised her opinion of him.
Still, she didn't understand why he seemed embarrassed and flustered to be caught doing it. He treated it like a porn stash. And he was more open with porn. Was he too cool for school or something?
She followed him, fumbling with her papers trying to keep up as they scrambled into the car. She'd planned to review her notes on the drive to school, but something in the back of her mind was bothering her. Had he really been doing homework? It had looked a bit like he was copying answers straight from the textbook onto another piece of paper. She inwardly scoffed. Of course he wasn't really studying. The last time he had gotten a D on a history paper, Neil had been irate. Beyond pissed. She'd never seen him punch through a wall with so much ease.
"You know, I could always help you out," Max said. "I'm pretty good at math and history."
"I don't need your help."
"You were making a cheat sheet, Billy."
He shot a glance at her. "I'm just making notes of all the important stuff I know is going to be on the test."
"So cheating." She raised an eyebrow at him, and something flashed on his face that was a mix of anger and something else. Fear, maybe?
"And? What are you gonna do about it?"
He kept his eyes on the road. Max thought his question was rhetorical, but he kept stealing glances at her as though he was waiting for her response.
"I'm not going to tell Neil."
"I didn't ask." His tone was sharp, but his face relaxed significantly, and his attention shifted back to the road.
Max rolled her eyes. She looked through the sheets in her hand, sifting through them again when she noticed one missing. Max looked around the car for her math homework, but it was nowhere to be found. I swear I just had it a second ago . . . She heard the sound of paper crinkling and looked over to see Billy was sitting directly on her homework. How'd it get over there? She reached over to grab it but couldn't easily slip it out from under him.
"You're sitting on my homework."
"Huh—? Eh! What are you doing?!"
She gave it a few more tugs but it ripped right down the middle before Billy shifted to let it free. She groaned and sharply waved the torn sheet.
"You jerk! Look at this! Mrs. Larson is going to be so pissed with me."
"Not my fault you can't keep track of your stuff."
"It would be fine if you'd just gotten up like I said instead of sitting there like a stubborn mule."
"Man, you're already making me miss not having to drive you to school. You should get sick more often," he said with a mocking smile on his face.
She rolled her eyes and groaned, going back to reviewing her notes.
When they got to Hawkins parking lot, Max quickly gathered her things but froze. She looked around. Once again, she was missing something. Where's my folder? That folder held all of her notes, guides, and assignments. She looked in her bag and on the floor but couldn't find it anywhere. Did I bring—no I'm positive I brought it! It had been sitting right at her feet just minutes before but now it was nowhere to be found.
"What's taking you so long?"
"I can't find my folder."
"Ugh, again, with this. Just get out of here! I'm not taking the blame if you're late to class."
"OK, quit rushing me!" She looked behind her seat, then in between, then under. Nothing.
The bell chimed in the distance.
"Max!"
"OK! I'm going!" She hopped out, snatched up her bag and loose papers, and rushed to her math class, all the while feeling that flood of anxiety build up. She needed her folder, not just to turn in her assignments, but some exams allowed the students to use their notes. Just my luck!
Max grumbled as she entered the classroom. As soon as she looked up, Mike and Lucas sprung from their seats.
"Max!"
They rushed over, encasing her as she made her way to her desk.
"Welcome back!" Mike gave her a quick fist bump.
"Feeling any better?" said Lucas.
"A lot better, thanks. I'm honestly just glad to be out of the house," she said. "Who would have guessed I'd choose tests over confinement."
"Our Zoomer has risen from the ashes, only to be driven straight into battle!" he joked.
She chuckled. "Thanks for the notes by the way."
Lucas's smile turned to a gape as he flushed. "Y-Yeah. No problem." He cleared his throat. "So uh . . . you ready to ace this?"
"Do you even need to ask?" Mike said. "Max is a freaking math wiz. She's got this in the bag."
Max gave a wavering smile. Sure, math was fine. It was her favorite subject after all. But what about the other subjects? What about the assignments she needed to turn in?
The bell chimed.
Mike and Lucas headed back to their desks. As expected, when Max explained her dilemma with her missing folder, she got a short, passive lecture from the teacher for being so careless with her homework and forgetting her assignments despite how she insisted that it wasn't entirely her fault. Mrs. Larson could be fun when it came to teaching math, but she was a teacher from hell when it came to the assignments. And after that fiasco where Billy tore up her math book, Mrs. Larson had been more . . . strict with Max, thinking she'd done it. Her friends gave her a sympathetic glance.
As Mrs. Larson called out the students' names for roll call, Max slumped in her desk and tried to figure out how she'd explain her missing assignments to her other teachers. A part of her doubted many teachers would lecture her as Mrs. Larson had done since she'd been sick, but what about the other exams? How would she explain a vanishing folder holding all her notes?
Max's thoughts were cut short when the door to the classroom swung open. Her eyes widened when she saw Billy walk in.
What the hell is he doing here?
That's when she spotted her blue folder clutched tight in his hand.
"Excuse me? Can I help you?" Mrs. Larson asked.
Billy briefly scanned the room, his face void of any emotion. Then, his whole expression changed—eyes brightening, smile beaming—when he turned to the teacher.
"Sorry for interrupting your class, but my sister forgot her folder in my car. It seemed pretty important," Billy said in his sweetest voice. The teacher fell for it, unsurprisingly but Max saw right through him; he only ever referred to her as his sister when he was talking to other adults. He never meant it, and he certainly didn't treat her like one. It was just a way to butter someone up. Like having a sister made him more likable somehow.
"Mrs. Larson," Billy continued, taking a step closer toward her. "It is Mrs. Larson, right?" He paused, his eyes never wavering.
And Mrs. Larson—She was staring at Billy so hard, Max wondered if she'd even heard him. Eventually, her eyes fluttered, and she fumbled over her words as she nodded. "Y-Yes, I'm, I'm Mrs. Larson."
"Well, Mrs. Larson . . ." He dragged out the name. Billy's smile widened as he presented the folder in his hand. "Do you think I could give this to her? She's just right over there."
"Yes, yes. Of course."
Billy nodded and made his way down the aisle. He passed some middle school girls swooning, some staring at Billy with hanging jaws and a glint in their eyes. Soon, he hovered over Max. She glowered at him as he gave her a fake smile with a raised brow. "You should really keep track of your things, sis." She scrunched her lips at the words to hold back a retort, and Billy just gave her a mocking look before handing her her folder.
Max stared at it before slowly taking it from him. It wasn't until she held the folder in her hands that she realized: Billy came to my class to return my folder. Billy. Of all people. Why? She threw him a questioning glance before heading back to the front, making sure to glare at Lucas just because he wanted to be even more of an asshole. But then he flashed that toothy smile again as he continued to talk with Ms. Larson in a hushed tone. Leaning closer to her.
"About Max's assignment. . . I don't know what she told you, but it's my fault her homework was ripped. I was being careless and didn't notice I was sitting on it, so try not to give her a hard time. She just got over a nasty flu, and she might still be a little out of it."
The teacher nodded. "Right. Of course. Well, thank you for getting her folder back to her. You must be a great brother."
Max did her best to suppress a groan as she witnessed this ridiculous display. Mrs. Larson was lapping everything up. The grown woman even looked flushed.
He dropped another smile. Billy turned to leave but quickly spun around again. "Oh, and uh . . . Do you think you could do me a favor and write me a pass? I'm not sure I'll make it in time for my own final."
"Of course! I'll just make a quick call to the office and you can pick it up there."
"Thank you. I really appreciate it," he said with a wink, and the teacher actually seemed to blush in response.
Max rolled her eyes. Ugh, gag me with a spoon.
Hold on . . .
Suddenly it all made sense. He wasn't doing all this out of the goodness of his heart. He only did all this so he could get a stupid pass?! He was probably trying to buy time so he could finish up his damn cheat sheet. And the way he rushed her out of the car…
The thought hit her like a freight truck. He'd held her folder on purpose. It would explain how it had suddenly gone "missing". That dick! The truth of the situation left her gutted in a way that she hadn't expected to feel. For a second, she'd actually believed he was doing something nice. And it hurt to realize that wasn't the case. That she was only a pon who'd been used.
Look at his actions.
Max shook her head, watching Billy casually walk out of the classroom.
Asshole.
. . .
When lunch rolled around, her friends flooded her with attention.
"What was that about?" Lucas asked.
"What was what about?" Dustin spoke with a mouth full of macaroni.
Mike stepped in to fill in the blanks, "Billy showed up with Max's notes folder and totally flirted with Ms. Larson. And she fell for it! He was like, 'Please forgive my sister for being so careless with her things, she can't be trusted with anything.' It was super weird."
"He was just using me to get a hall pass so he could finish preparing to cheat on his finals. He always finds a new way to be a dick." The words were sharp. She didn't expect to still be so upset by it. After all, this was Billy she was dealing with. What did she expect? Truth is, she had expected something. After that day he cared for her, she expected something had changed. Guess she was wrong. And now, her foolish thinking made her suffer, made her distracted during her finals.
"It's surprising he never had to retake a grade," Dustin said. "Pretty boy looks do wonders."
They caught Max up on everything that had happened while she was gone and she smiled even when they started swapping Dungeons and Dragons stories from their session over the weekend. She was grateful for the banter, happy it took her mind off of Billy, even for a moment. Before she could make her way to her next class, Lucas stopped her.
"What's up?" she asked.
He shifted on his feet nervously and struggled to make eye contact with her. "I was wondering if you wanted… I guess," he cleared his throat. "Are you going to the Snowball… with anyone?"
She smiled and shook her head. "I haven't been asked yet."
"Would you want to . . . go? I mean not with me, er doesn't have to be with me, you know . . . I just mean in general . . ."
"Yeah, sounds like fun." He nodded, smiled, and walked away. She saw him give Mike and Will an enthusiastic thumbs-up and she laughed softly to herself. Cute.
At home, she continued to study until Susan was home from work. Her mom greeted her with a hug and paused to check her temperature with the back of her hand.
"How did the first day of finals go? You had math and history, right?"
Max nodded, "Today was pretty easy. Tomorrow I have chemistry and English which might be a little more difficult but shouldn't be too hard with the guides. Thanks for picking those up, by the way. They helped a bunch."
Susan's brow furrowed. "What guides?"
"The study guides for my finals. You put them on my nightstand after picking them up from school."
"Oh! I didn't pick those up, sweetie. Billy did."
Max paused, wondering if she heard right. "Billy? You mean the Billy who lives here with us?"
She laughed. "Of course, who else would I mean?"
Max was surprised. That doesn't sound right. But then, it also made sense. Her mom was so scared to leave her side the entire week, so there was no way she would have left the house and gone all the way to the school just for some study guides. She must have gotten Billy to do it.
"Well, thanks for asking him to do that. I'm surprised he even listened."
Her mom shook her head. "I never asked him to do it."
"Then, Neil must have told him to."
"I don't think so. That's not something he would have thought to ask Billy. I just remember seeing him come home and slip those papers right under your door. I just picked them up and put them on your nightstand."
Max was stunned. "Then why did he do it?"
She shrugged. "You'll have to ask him."
Max stood there, completely taken aback. Even long after her mom had gone, she sat in silence, desperately trying to wrap her head around this "kindness", if she could call it that. Was something in it for him? What did he get out of it? But no matter how many scenarios she ran through her head, she couldn't for the life of her figure out what he would get from going to every single one of her classes just to give her study guides. Not only that, the deed had been done last week, and she was only now finding out about it.
Had he really done something nice for her without needing to? Without expecting something in return? It was so uncharacteristic of him, but there was no other explanation.
Billy Hargrove had done something nice.
She dashed to her room and pulled out a couple of boxes of items she still hadn't unpacked, frantically searching for a specific gift she had gotten from her father years ago. The fact that it had been from her dad was reason enough not to want Billy to have it but maybe she had been wrong.
She pulled t-shirts, birthday cards, and all sorts of other junk out of the way until her eyes landed on the object she was searching for.
Bingo.
. . .
Billy hoped he had done well enough to earn at least a C. Cs were safe zones, although he could probably get away with a B- if he had to. Any higher than that, Neil would be convinced he was cheating, but any lower than a C- would potentially bring on another punishment, grounding or otherwise. An F would seal his doom, making Neil's wrath inevitable, and he really didn't want to be held back or repeat any classes when he was so close to being done with high school for good.
He got up that night to get a beer from the kitchen. He was only gone a minute or two, but when he stepped back towards his room, he saw Max sneak out of his room and dash back to her own. Billy stomped forward, his strides quickening as he shouted after her.
"Max, for the last time, stay out of my fucking room! If I catch you in there again, I swear to god I'll shred every single one of your fucking comics! Got it?!"
She gave him a blank stare he couldn't understand. With a huff, she slipped into her room, closing the door behind her. Billy hit her door, then slammed the one to his room and looked around, trying to figure out if she had tampered with something, moved something, or taken an item from his room that she could use to get him in trouble. His homework was where he left it and nothing in his closet had been moved. Did she mess with his clocks again? I swear if she did, I'll—
He froze.
His gaze lingered over to his bed where he saw it.
There, a walkman with black headphones sat on top of his sheets with a note placed gently beside it. He picked it up and recognized Max's handwriting:
Thanks for the study guides, asshole. Try not to break it.
Billy gave a humorless chuckle to himself and examined the walkman; it was in near-perfect condition and looked like it hadn't ever been used. Had she bought it with her own money? No, she was piss-poor with barely any quarters to her name. Even the twenty he gave her couldn't buy this. Did she steal it? Not a chance. He picked up the walkman, turning it over in his hand. That's when he remembered . . .
Billy went to the corner of his room and picked up handfuls of dirty clothes that were scattered on the floor until he found the Metallica Kill 'Em All cassette he had abandoned nearly two weeks ago. Even now, he still didn't know how Max managed to get it back. Hell, it was surprising that she went to this much trouble just to thank him for picking up some stupid papers for her.
First apologies, and now thank yous . . . he thought.
He thought back to Thursday the week before. He had finished his classes and was on his way to his car, wishing he could call up the girl from history class instead of having to drive straight home when someone shouted for him. He turned to see that black kid, Sinclair, running over to him and waving his arm to get his attention. He sighed and didn't want to bother talking to the annoying brat who was always following Max around like a puppy.
He had caught the little hoodlum watching him when he arrived at school that day, looking for Max no doubt. Now, he was hesitantly approaching him.
From here on out, you leave me and my friends alone, do you understand?
Yeah, he understood alright. Can't say the same if they approached him first though.
"Is . . . Is Max doing OK?" the boy had asked when he finally approached, keeping his distance. "I haven't seen her at school lately."
"Get out of my face, Sinclair." Billy flicked his cigarette.
Sinclair shuffled on his feet, and it looked like he was torn between running away and standing his ground, but he ultimately chose the latter. "I wanted to see if anyone picked up Max's study guides yet. I know she's probably freaking out over missing the reviews for her finals, and if she doesn't get the guides, I'm sure she'll be anxious."
"That's not my fucking problem. She'll just have to get over it. Run on back to your little nerd friends."
"Well, can you at least give these notes to her?" Sinclair quickly unzipped his backpack and whipped out a stack of papers, but Billy just waved them off. "Take a hike, Sinclair, before I run you down."
Billy continued to his car and got behind the driver's seat, and was about to drive off when he paused. He tried to suppress it, tried to ignore the wave of memories of Max attempting her damn amending that previous week. He tried to lock out the constant sorries that kept spewing from her lips. He didn't care about those things. So why the hell did she keep trying? Why the hell did she stand up to Neil for him? Even now, he still felt like he owed her something.
No, I don't owe her anything.
It's not like it was his fault for the wreck, and it's not like it was his fault Max got sick, but if he didn't pick up her study guides, no one else was going to. What am I saying? Even if he did feel like getting those things, it'd be such a pain in the ass.
You have to stop being mean to me. Deal?
It was no deal. He never agreed to it. He had no obligation to be nice. That's what she wanted, wasn't it? Him to be nice? "Not being mean" didn't mean he had to be, right? He was sure there was an in-between. Hell, why was he even considering her deal?
He thought back to yesterday, how he looked after her, fed her. . . He couldn't really say he knew what he was doing, especially when he brought her back home knowing she was sick. Especially when he stayed with her as she ate. Especially when he carried her back to her room . . .
Why did he do that? Why did he do anything anymore?
Do you really want things to stay the same?
He let out a frustrated sigh.
Fuck.
Billy got back out of the car and yelled, "Hey, shit for brains!" to Sinclair, gesturing for him to come back and the kid complied, jogging back to meet Billy. He snatched the papers from his hand.
"Hey—"
"Do you know her schedule?"
"What?"
"Her schedule? Her classes?" he had said. The boy looked stunned. After a brief pause, he nodded. "Then hurry up and give me a list. And you better not say a word of this, or I swear you'll regret it."
And that's how it went. All it had taken was a little light flirtation with the female teachers and some coercion with the men to gather up the books and packets Max would need to prepare for her tests. Most of the teachers had them ready to go as they had anticipated someone would pick them up for her. He just never thought it'd be him.
What's your excuse this time? he thought to himself, remembering what Max had asked him: "How long are you going to keep using that excuse?" What was his excuse? Truth is, he didn't have one.
Billy snapped out of his memory and returned to the present moment. He sat back in his bed and popped the Metallica tape in, relishing in the music he hadn't heard in way too long. He hadn't wanted to touch it, hadn't wanted to be reminded of the disappointment and anger that washed over him when he remembered the concert he'd never get the chance to go to, but the music still managed to calm his tension and bring him back to a somewhat peaceful reality.
But that reality quickly darkened when he thought of his dad and that day he'd broken his radio taken away, that night it'd gotten destroyed. . .
Billy sat up and left one headphone off, just in case Neil called for him.
To be continued . . .