A/N: As said, I've been on an absolute roll with this chapter. It's longer than all the others, but I promise it will be a rollercoaster ride of emotions. I would also like to say a huge thank you for the recent reviews I've received. I can't express how much it makes my day to know people are enjoying this story. Sending good vibes to everyone and I hope you enjoy this chapter.
~Billy~
I had been in the conservatory, my eyes cruising over the endless books resting on the bookcase. They were all lined up, alphabetized. There must have been a minimum of a hundred books. Each one was in immaculate condition. I knew they belonged to Sierra. From what I had overheard from weaving in and out of conversations, Anthony Nightingale was definitely not one to sit down and immerse himself in a book. Anthony Nightingale was a hardcore Wall Street-esque guy who somehow managed to be the ideal family man. I had raised an eyebrow upon hearing these comments. The guy didn't strike me as someone too family oriented. At least, not from what I had seen the other day when he got all up in Sierra's personal space. Thankfully, I had managed to avoid Him and Susan who were swanning around, soaking up the attention they were getting from the Big Boss himself. A guy like Anthony Nightingale seemed to rely on kiss-asses to boost his ego. Anthony and Him were going to get on like a house on fire. He would leave me be. After all, I wasn't the model son. Of course He wouldn't introduce me. There was no need to. However, the chance was still there so I had snuck off into the quiet of the conservatory. I kind of liked it here. It was peaceful, away from all the kiss-asses and their sons. They were the sort of kids I didn't want to get along with. Yuppies, the lot of them.
After a few minutes, I was dying for a smoke and I highly doubted lighting up here would be the proper thing to do. A quick glance towards the crowds of people told me otherwise as a thin cloud of smoke hovered around the main room. With a shrug of my shoulders, I lit up my cigarette and went to get some fresh air where I heard Sierra's voice. It was a defensive tone. Immediately, I spotted them.
I felt myself bristle as a smoldering rage flowed in my veins. She was being cornered by that Yuppie kid from the grocery store. I recognized that uncomfortable expression on her face. It was the same one Mom had when He would corner her. As my fury sprang into action, making my way over, I could tell Sierra was fighting a losing battle. Within less than a minute, I forcibly stamped out the fire in me and allowed a suave air to replace it. I let out a pillar of smoke, letting it drift over them. A way to let her know I was here to get her out of this situation, a way to let the Yuppie know I was here to inflict pain.
"Well, well, well" I coolly remarked, boring my eyes into the Yuppie who froze like a rabbit caught in headlights. The look alone told me that if I hadn't gotten here, he wasn't going to stop harassing her.
The moment the Yuppie eased off, Sierra came over to my side. I could tell she was feeling tense, perhaps even a bit shook up, from his unwanted advances. Gently, I stroked her back until I could physically feel her body sigh with relief. This did nothing but silently enrage the Yuppie who put his hands authoritatively on his hips, lips pursed and daggers being thrown my way. I didn't care about that. Nor did I care about the guy calling me a piece of shit mere minutes ago. I was used to the insult trailing behind me wherever I went. What I did care about was how he thought it was appropriate to back Sierra into a corner and clearly ignore her when she raised her discomfort. Once Sierra had calmed down a little, I flicked my cigarette carelessly away and gave Sierra my pack of cigarettes before stepping forward. Staring at him with plain fury, I wordlessly commanded for him to either give me an explanation or get out of here.
"Hey, man, this isn't what it looks like" the Yuppie said, putting his hands up.
"I'm not a fan of liars" I growled and moved closer to him. See how he likes being cornered this time. "You stay away from her"
The Yuppie dared to laugh at this. My fingers made a menacing crack as I created a fist.
"You're just a load of talk, Hargrove" Oh, how wrong he was. In one swift movement, Carver was under my control. He audibly winced as I seized his arm, feeling his veins on the verge of rupturing as my grip tightened. The more he struggled, the more chance he faced getting a hefty bill from the ER. Good ol' Daddy Carver wouldn't like that at all. "Come on, man. We don't need to do this"
"Finally, you talk some sense, Carver" I smoothly stated again, locking my eyes onto his. "Apologize to her" Upon his hesitation, my fingernails dug deeper into his skin and he let out an excruciating cry.
"S-Sierra, I'm sorry" he murmured through a pained voice.
A moment passed and I had opened my mouth to grant him an early release when Sierra's lilted voice spoke up.
"I don't think I heard you" She stood with her arms crossed, a brow raised. A position shouting loud and clear that although I was the one forbidding him to move, she was the one in control here.
I smirked at her and snapped my head back around to face Jason whose eyes were brimming with confusion. This reversal in power had overwhelmed him. Not only was I, the notorious bad boy of Hawkins High, keeping him here, but someone he believed was on his side of the coin was joining my ranks, destroying his innocent view of Sierra ever submitting to him.
"You heard her - speak up" I ordered.
"I'm sorry, Sierra" The Yuppie looked at her with imploring eyes.
I waited for my signal. My hand wasn't moving until she deemed his apology fit enough. Whatever satisfied her, satisfied me. I wasn't expecting her to chime in, but it pleased me how she did. Receiving a nod, I loosened my grip, making him believe he was free. However, when he started to scamper away, I grabbed a hold of his wrist, hauling him back to me. He may have apologized, but I wanted him to know Nightingale was off limits.
"I mean it, Carver. Stay away from her"
Terror in his eyes, he nodded and I liberated him, watching how he staggered back into the house. I faced Sierra who was standing with her eyes lowered, the shadow of a smile on her rouged lips.
"You okay?" I asked and went to brush a stray curl that had found itself in her long, dark eyelashes. However, when she moved away to do it herself, my eyebrows creased. I felt a flash of irritation. After all, I had jumped in to help her. Instead, I ran my fingers through my tousled hair. "You let me know if he comes near you, alright?"
"You didn't have to do that, you know?" She wasn't looking at me, preferring to stare at her feet shuffling around in the grass. She passed my cigarette box and I grabbed on, balancing it on my bottom lip.
"I know" I went to grab my lighter from the jeans pocket. It was only then those doe, green eyes greeted mine and the sound of her lighter clicked. With a smile, she lit the cigarette for me. "Let's get out of here"
"I don't fancy getting into trouble tonight, Billy. I need to keep an eye on things" She gently laughed, but there was a sorrow in her voice. "You do know he'll probably try that again, right?"
"No, he won't" My voice was serious, borderline foreboding. "Not if he knows what's good for him"
Peering behind me, I saw a bronze bench with a metal finish and went to sit down. As I did so, I outstretched my hand and dragged her down with me. This time, she didn't object. However, she did sit with her legs crossed at the ankles, posture straightened, chin tucked but staring upwards into the distance with this far-away look. She reminded me of a news clip of Princess Diana I saw one morning before school. Something was clearly bothering her yet she always found herself in a room of people who didn't care, who only wanted her presence and nothing else.
"What's wrong, Nightingale?" I asked, leaning back and spreading my legs. "Do I need to have another chat with Carver?"
"No," She let out a small laugh. "Um," Pausing for a moment, I caught onto how she was trying not to cry. "Sorry, just I've not had a lot of sleep and my dad," She shook her head, banishing the topic entirely. "It doesn't matter"
I knew there was something bad about Anthony Nightingale. Like a rotten apple, I could sniff him out of the crowd in no time. I'd seen it in my house and despite how much I could become a prisoner to my own thoughts, I knew I was not an isolated case.
"It does matter, Nightingale" I threw back my head as I let out another cloud of smoke and grabbed her hand. "And that's why we're getting the hell out of here"
"Billy - "
"No arguments, Princess. You're coming with me for half an hour, tops" I stood up and made my way to the gate. Half of me was surprised that she'd kept her fingers entwined with mine. I wasn't going to argue it.
"Fine," Nightingale conceded and finally, a bright smile formed on her lips. "But, seriously, Princess?" she asked, incredulously. She smirked at me and I chuckled at her. She was learning fast how to control that blush of hers. "Alright, I'll take it"
"Good" I replied and winked at her.
The way she bit that plump bottom lip made me quicken my pace and soon we were on her street. We stood there for a second, hands pressed together, and we just marveled at the houses ahead of us. All pristine, nothing out of place. Everything was ordered, neat, opulent. A way to make everything appear just fine. I heard Sierra let out a deep exhale. I had no special power to read minds, but I could just tell she was thinking the exact same as me. This thought had overwhelmed her, perhaps not for the first time. I gave her hand a squeeze and she soon prompted us to continue walking in silence, dipping in and out of the dimmed streetlights.
"Was that kid your brother?" I broke the silence, my voice so crisp that it made her jump out of her troubled musings. I stroked the back of her hand, calming her down. She was very on edge today. I couldn't help but think what may have happened, but the ideas in my mind caused my blood to heat up. There was something off about her house. Like all the others on this street of rich folk. All perfect on the outside, something rotting on the inside. "You know, the one you were playing with?"
Sierra smiled and I felt her slacken, taking herself away from her mind full of worry. She nodded at my question and went back to peering down at the ground. It was like the realization of what she was doing dawned on her and she took her hand out of mine and froze, looking back towards her house. We could still hear the music, so we hadn't strayed too far. But the concern etched in those eyes made me figure out we had gone far enough.
"We can just hang out in the garden if you want" I suggested and made a motion to go back.
However, Sierra's hand drifted up and she tutted at herself, as if she was annoyed at her own gesture for me to stop. I heeded her order and raised a brow, wanting her to make a decision despite her own inner conflict.
"Did you and Bryony sleep together?"
I was so surprised by the question that I couldn't help but let out a small laugh. However, as soon as my eyes locked onto hers, I could tell this was no laughing matter to Sierra. She had morphed from a girl burdened by worries to a woman who knew exactly what answers she wanted to hear and when she was going to hear them. I bit the inside of my lip and felt myself fumbling around with my jean pockets. If this was any other girl, I would have just said the truth and walked off. But the truth in California would have been that I did sleep with the girl, that it didn't matter to me as long as I got the validation I needed. I had satisfied a girl and myself, and reaped the rewards that followed. I had always expected this would be the case in Hawkins too. Until I met her. She was the reason it was so different in Hawkins. Because for once, I went on a date and didn't want to sleep with Bryony. I would never sleep with a girl if she didn't want to. However, Bryony Hamilton definitely wanted me. In normal times, that would mean I wanted her too. We would fuck, go home and organize another time to fuck again. But that never happened with Bryony. It never happened because all I could think about was the girl stood right in front of me and those damn green eyes.
"No, I didn't"
A simple answer to a seemingly simple question.
"If you did, you can just tell me"
"No, I didn't sleep with Bryony" I repeated.
I wanted to tell Sierra everything. How I couldn't sleep with anyone because I wanted her. But my words couldn't find the way out. They were stuck, caught between wishing for her to see the real me and the me everyone else had to see.
"What happened to 'we're just English partners'?" I couldn't help myself. Inwardly, I cursed the part of me that wanted to be set free. But I had to maintain the image. If she were to reject me now, this mask could never redeem itself.
Sierra, a sudden curiosity sparkling in her green eyes, softened. But not for long. There was a shift in the atmosphere between us. She was building up for something. The roles had reversed. Somehow, I had bestowed her some sort of newfound confidence.
"Well, now, that depends" Sierra paused, surveying my reaction. More words were on the tip of her tongue, but they were lingering just to watch me wait in all this anticipation. She was a goddamn tease and she fully knew it. "On how good your apology is"
I laughed loudly, stumbling back a little from astonishment. Me, apologize? I had never apologized to a girl before. But Sierra wasn't joking at all. No, she stood there brazenly with a smirk painted on those lips and arms crossed, deep red fingernails tapping away on her lean forearms. God, she was actually serious.
"I'm waiting, Hargrove" she said with a coquettish click of the tongue.
"Alright, alright" I surrendered, throwing my hands up.
My eyes were lowered, staring at her shoes as I stalled with my awkward chuckles. Suddenly, I heard her heels as they moved leisurely over until I saw them directly next to my black boots. Before I could even make some cocky remark, she had tilted my chin so my eyes were chained to hers. It was neither aggressive nor gentle. Her touch made it loud and clear that she was going to patiently wait until I said something. Without a word, she made her final command and arched her brow. I felt all my breath hitch in the back of my throat. What was this girl doing to me?
"Okay," I breathed and cleared my throat. "I'm sorry for doing that to you" She continued to stare at me with this authoritative look, that eyebrow heightening. Jesus, she expected more. "I should have just canceled the date"
She parted her lips as if to grant me forgiveness, but held back. She quickly looked at my lips and I felt her warm breath expand over them as I started to lean in.
"Apology accepted"
And just like that, she turned around and started walking away.
"Are you coming or not, Hargrove?" Sierra called out.
I watched her walk off, empowered by winning this conquest. The way her hips moved were entrancing, like she had an invisible leash around my neck. Throwing my hands around the back of my head, I released a heavy sigh and groaned quietly to myself. Dear God this was unbearable. I felt hot, electricity bolting through my body as I ran to catch up with her. She was walking away from the house now and towards the opposite end of the street. I wanted to know what she had in store for me. She was an enigma. Fearless yet shy, mysterious yet making her intentions clear. There was one thing for certain though. Nightingale was the sexiest woman I had ever laid eyes on and I was going to do everything in my power to ensure she would be my girl.
"What are you doing to me, Nightingale?" I groaned and wrapped an arm around her, spinning her towards me.
"Just making sure you take accountability for your actions" she sweetly replied and walked away again. "You may be Keg King, but you still gotta bow down every now and then!"
I chuckled at her and let out a long, audible breath before catching up with the sudden spring in her stride again. Jesus, she was ridiculously flirtatious when given the chance. I had never expected it considering how much she blushed at my own advances, but this was an entertaining treat.
"But yes, that was my brother" She picked up from the conversation we had beforehand, slowing down to talk with me. "He's called Zack. What's your sisters name?"
"Step-sister" My tone was somewhat cold and Sierra definitely identified that, raising her brow at me. "She's called Max. Her mom married my dad last year" I let out a harsh laugh, recalling the moment I met Max. "I didn't actually meet her until the week before they moved into our house in California"
"I can imagine that must have been difficult for you" Sierra softly replied and looked up at me with a tenderness I had only seen a handful of times in my life.
"Yeah, you could say that" I chuckled and lit a cigarette for her before lighting my own. "It is what it is"
"Doesn't mean you can't feel some sort of resentment towards the situation" Sierra answered and I felt her silky skin brush against my skin as she laced her fingers with mine.
"I guess" I murmured and shook my head slightly, a small smile rising on my lips. I felt so conflicted with Max. I wanted to hate her, but also protect her from Him. She was in His good books and I despised her for it. But if she was to be exiled from those good books, He would hurt her. "So, is it just you, your dad and your brother"
"Yeah, it is" she sighed. For a moment, she watched the ashen smoke as it twirled towards the inky sky, lost in thought. "My mom left my dad last year. She's married now and has a new kid. The last time I saw her was the summer vacation before last" Sierra stopped herself, figuring out whether to tell me the rest of the story. "I was at my grandparents house, answered the door and that's how I found out I was expecting a half brother or sister" She laughed slightly, but I could tell it was anything but happy. "My dad was there, slammed the door in her face and took me back into the garden where we were having a barbecue"
"Took you back?" I had highlighted that word for a reason. Hearing the word took made me tense up, a deadly thunderbolt striking my spine. I watched Sierra as she directed her uneasiness to playing with a loose curl.
"Anyway, that was the last time I saw her" Sierra curtly concluded. A second elapsed before she looked up at me and took off her shoes. "I hate wearing these things" she muttered aloud to herself and playfully stood on the tips of her toes. She just about reached my shoulder without the heels on. The anger at the thought of her being under her father's duress simmered down. She must have detected it. "Is it the same with your family?"
"Well, there's Max and Susan, the 'step-family'" I gestured to the commas, acting out my own conflict with the phrase. I awkwardly tittered and bowed my head. "My mom did the same as yours. Only difference is, I don't know if I have any extra family"
And I didn't want to know either. I had forced myself to think about it over the years more times than I should have. A part of me knew she had moved on and I yearned to do the same, to just forget. Another part of me, that kid riding a seven feet wave, screamed for her to remember me. That was the part of me that needed to stay veiled. If He even saw a glimmer of that kid, it would be game over.
"Do you ever get freaked out that you'll end up like them?" Sierra asked quietly, as if it was a forbidden question. I snapped my head towards her, the idea that I could be like Him touching a nerve. However, I softened when I saw her eyes glisten with tears. "Because it's a thought that keeps me up at night"
"You're too nice to end up like them, Nightingale" I sighed and tried to avoid the question pondering my own mind. "Fuck them. All of them. We only have ourselves to look out for in this life"
"Sometimes it's more complicated than that, Billy" Sierra stated and sat down on a patch of grass underneath a grand oak tree. "Zack's still at that age where he can be easily influenced. You know, I look at him now and I think to myself how much of an amazing kid he is, how innocently he sees the world through his eyes, and think everything will be okay. What if all that changes when I go to college?"
This was her burden, the heavy weight sitting on her shoulders. The faraway look when she became lost in thought. It was all about the kid. She didn't have to say she was that boy's primary caregiver. Her grave concern for his wellbeing and how I saw her interact with him earlier on told me everything I needed to know. I had always known something was different with Sierra. She may have worn that cheerleader uniform, a sign of conformity, but there was always something underneath that separated her from the crowd. And now, it was all pouring out.
I stayed quiet, immersing myself in her chaotic world. It was a world I was familiar with, but hers was different to mine. He had said she was worth millions. But that hadn't impacted her one bit. No amount of money could make up for the way she was being treated.
"It's funny, I was helping him make a sandwich earlier," she giggled. She appeared like the story was funny, but the tear that had escaped and ran down her face said otherwise. Gingerly, I wiped it away for her and waited for her to continue. "And he was so happy about it! My Dad always says, 'Women should make the sandwiches', but Zack was just so proud that he had made one for himself, and I think that perhaps everything will be okay, that he will always make his own sandwiches. But then, I see how my Dad is with him. Zack heeds his every word. If Dad doesn't like something, Zack won't like something. If Dad says enough times 'A woman will make your sandwiches', then Zack will soak it all up and I'll come back and he'll just repeat all the bullshit he's been told"
I wondered if Mom ever considered this before she left Him. Right then, something uncomfortable set in my stomach and I felt my heart rapidly beat as a singular question haunted my head, repeating itself over and over again.
Was I like Him?
"Oh shit, I'm sorry. That was a lot to get into" Sierra sounded angry with herself and started getting up. I had been miles away, leaving her alone in the silence.
I pulled her back down to sit in between my legs and we sat there for a few moments. Just me and Sierra, breathing in her floral scent and my arms enveloped around her petite waist, keeping her away from all the troubles that scared her.
"You don't need to apologize," I whispered. "That kid is lucky to have you"
"Thank you for listening" It was a sentence no one had ever said to me before. I guess though, I had never really listened to anyone in the past. "Anyway, we should get back" She stood up and offered me the lit cigarette. "Come on, Hargrove, before you get too mushy on me"
"Pfft, like that would ever happen" I suavely chuckled and accepted the cigarette, standing up to meet her smirk. "So, about that 'English partners' thing…"
"I did say that depended on whether you said sorry or not" Sierra flirtatiously interrupted and stood just underneath me.
"Well, was it satisfactory enough for you, Nightingale?" I asked, my voice husky. I bit my bottom lip as my finger traced her jawline, enjoying how it kept her attention on me. "Or do I need to do something else?" I wanted to take my touch somewhere else, feeling a pressure build up as if I was magnetized to all the places on her body that I craved.
Those green eyes glowed up at me, sending a thrill down my entire body.
"There is just one more thing you could do…"
I leaned down, ready to give her the satisfaction she required. We were both going to relish this.
"Billy?"
Oh for fuck's sake. I pursed my lips and laughed in frustration.
Goddamn it, Max. Why now?
I bit on my tongue and moved away from Sierra, peering up at the kid. However, the frustration I felt lessened slightly when I saw Max's pale face stained with red trail marks.
"What the hell happened?" I asked and strode over to her. Did He hurt her?
"Nothing" Max brushed off, not looking at me as I towered over her. I took a step back.
"Max, do I need to ask again?"
Max shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself.
"Was it those girls you were hanging out with?" Sierra's voice chimed in. Max, looking at her warily, nodded.
Susan.
I knew that bitch had something to do with this. Max never willingly went over to join other kids. She was happy enough in her own company. In fact, she was used to it. Kids in California made fun of her all the time for being into skateboarding, but Max was adamant she would be herself.
"I'm guessing it was mainly Penny Lannister?" Sierra asked. Again, Max nodded. This was the most I'd seen Max open up. She was like a clam shell. Buried in the sand that was her life and only opening up when she was in hot water. "If it helps, my little brother, who is only 4, scared her at a Halloween party this weekend and she got so freaked out, she pissed her pants" Sierra paused as a shadow of a smile rose up on Max's lips. "He was dressed as a Ghostbuster"
Max burst out with laughter, shyly lowering her head to look at her fumbling feet. I found myself chuckling alongside them before prompting all of us to head back to the house. After all, He would notice Max was missing. Max was still quiet, but she had uncrossed her arms. It was an improvement. As we approached the house, I told Max to wait in my car. I would just make up some excuse to Him. I threw the car keys over my shoulder and Max skillfully caught them. Just as she was about to enter the car, I yelled a 'Hey'. She froze, staring at me.
"Put on whatever cassette you want" I called and turned back around to follow Sierra.
Immediately, I found Him and Susan still laughing away with His colleagues. It infuriated me how He could just stand there laughing, still declaring himself a family man with various stories of us kids. What a warped perception to have as one of the kids was sat in the car in an outfit she hated with a passion and tears running down her face. And that was the good kid. Imagine how they would all react if they found out the bad kid was in direct violation of His words and flirting with Anthony Nightingale's daughter. What a day that would be. I told them Max wasn't well and I was going to drive her home. He made a show of being concerned, but when I reassured him it was just something mild, He agreed and got back to talking with His new group of friends.
I went to find Sierra, to tell her I was leaving. On my way, I saw Jason Carver, still moping over his defeat. With a smug smile, I nodded in acknowledgement at how he had absolutely zero chances with the girl everyone had expected him to marry one day. The guy was livid, but of course, he had to keep up appearances. A fight with someone who had, according to everyone else, done nothing to him would be seriously damaging to his image. How unfortunate for him. He could do nothing but stand back and watch. The sound of a kid's piercing wail made me suddenly recoil. It was one of those sounds that made me get pissed off, like nails on a chalkboard. However, when I found Sierra, I saw she was cradling the wailing kid in her arms and stroking his mop of curly hair.
"He's tired" she whispered to me, bouncing the kid gently. Tactfully, she poured some milk into a beaker and placed it in the microwave, all whilst whispering comforting words in the kids ear. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow at school?"
"Erm," I paused, feeling out of place in this hidden world of hers.
"Yeah, sure" she said and shook her head, as if she felt regretful over allowing me into her secret. She let out a small laugh over the kids loud cries and continued going about getting the timer set on the microwave. "Of course, I get it"
"Here, let me help"
Sierra flashed me a confused look and it became clear how she never once had someone extend a helping hand. Sure, her grandparents sounded supportive enough. But where the hell were her parents?
"Around 30 seconds, right?" I clarified and went to set the timer.
"Yeah, totally" Sierra breathed, snapping into the role she had been forced into with another shake of the head. "I'll just be upstairs. Erm, last room on the left"
I watched as she took the kid upstairs, passing plenty of people who ignored how this 17 year old was taking care of a little kid, no parent present to help. I felt angry for her. All of her work went completely unacknowledged, but she persisted regardless. My eyes surveyed the flurry of people scattered around in their gangs to see Anthony Nightingale leaning over a table, his nose touching the surface. I didn't need to get closer to know what he was doing. After all, I was doing the same last night. The only difference was I was a teenager with no responsibilities and he was a grown adult with plenty of them. The incessant beeping of the microwave alerted me to get out of my thoughts. I couldn't help but wonder how many times Sierra had stood by this microwave and pondered over how much of a living disaster her father was before being torn away to carry on with life.
When I got to the kid's bedroom, painted baby blue with at least 10 posters of various dinosaurs framed on the walls, I saw Sierra adjusting the sleepy kids pajama top. It had a colorful Tyrannosaurus with a wide smile printed on it. This kid was dinosaur obsessed. I stood back out of view for a moment, observing the two together. Sierra was tucking him into bed, ensuring he was nice and comfortable. She asked if he wanted to read a book before bed, and the kid instantly became animated, as if injected with adrenaline. Laughing at him, Sierra started reading. Before the kid got too engrossed in the book, I cleared my throat and lifted the cup of steaming milk up to them.
"Oh, hey! Er, you can just put it down on there"
She timidly smiled at me as I walked past her to place it on the kid's bedside where there was a photo of a younger Sierra and a woman who was identical to her - dark curls, bright green eyes and a sunny smile - holding a baby. I could only assume this was the mom that had abandoned them holding a baby Zack. As I looked at the photo, I could feel the kid's eyes boring into my back. At the end of the day, I was just a stranger who his much older sister somehow knew.
"Zack, this is Billy. We go to school together" Sierra introduced me and the kid, in a business-like manner I had only seen in adults, reached out to shake my hand. I flickered my eyes between Sierra, who was trying to suppress her laughter, and the kid who was deadly serious.
"You're meant to shake it" the kid declared.
With a laugh, I took the kid's hand and shook it lightly. I didn't want to hurt him after all.
"Hm, your handshake is a little weak" he grumbled and turned to his sister. "Should I teach him?" Shit, this kid was bold. As I looked at Sierra again, I had to bit my lip to stop myself from laughing.
"Or, you could thank him for bringing your milk up, Zack" Sierra lightly chided, nodding at me.
"I'm sorry, I was rude. Thank you, Billy" I could tell Sierra had a part in raising the boy. After all, she had managed to get an apology from both Jason Carver and myself tonight. She was used to teaching this lesson. From what she had confessed earlier, I knew she wanted the kid to be well-rounded.
"It's cool, kid" I was standing up to leave the two when suddenly the kid cleared his throat. "Everything okay?"
"You're not staying to read with us?" he asked, gently taking the book from Sierra's hands and shoving it towards me. I glanced at Sierra who gestured towards the book and patted down next to her. With a silent groan, I conceded, sitting down on the blue duvet, book poised in my hands.
Only then did I read the title - Fantastic Mr Fox.
God, strike me the fuck down.
Sierra started off reading but it wasn't long before the kid wanted my involvement to go beyond holding the book. I cleared my throat again. Despite the first three buttons being undone, I felt like the collar of my shirt was strangling me.
"He mashed the livers into a disgusting paste - "
"Properly!" The kid obviously was not impressed with my monotone voice.
Getting prepared to say farewell to my pride, I took a deep breath in.
"He mashed the livers into a disgusting paste," For emphasis, I added a gag and pretended to vomit everywhere. The kid howled with laughter, falling back on his pillow in a fit of giggles. I smiled at him as he tried to stifle it, covering his mouth. "...This gave him a beastly temper. Grrr, those nasty doughnuts!"
"Sierra never adds those bits in!" Zack gasped and gawped at me like I had just completed an Oscar winning performance. "Don't stop! Sierra, take notes!"
I heartily laughed, raising my hand to high-five the kid who slapped back with all the force he could muster. Winking at Sierra who was still trying to contain her laughter, I continued reading. By the end of the chapter, I had zero energy left. Apparently, neither did Zack who was fighting back the urge to sleep. I never thought I'd have to admit to putting my all into telling a story for a kid. But, the kid was content, and when he yawned, Sierra and I said good night to him. Sierra planted a gentle kiss on his forehead and made sure he was comfortable before we left him to sleep. Only when she closed the door did she let the giggles flow uncontrollably. I ran my fingers through my hair, laughing with her. This was all I was going to hear about tomorrow.
"Billy Hargrove, am I seeing this right?" she gasped and stood with hands on her hips, a self-assured smirk on her lips. "You're blushing"
"Must be the lighting in here" I murmured and grinned at her. A critical voice in my head was chastising me for being such an idiot in the first place, but it gave her so much satisfaction to see the tables turn. "I should get back to Max, she's been waiting for a while"
"Sure. Thanks for helping me out. I really appreciate it" she said and we stood facing each other, as if we expected something to follow. "I should get back downstairs anyway"
I nodded and started to accompany her when I noticed she had fallen back. Just as I turned around to ask if she was coming, I felt the gentleness of her lips collide with mine. It felt like forever, as my eyes slipped to a close, savoring her touch. But seconds later, she retreated with a grin and fled downstairs. I laughed to myself, watching as she peered back up at me with excitement brimming those gorgeous eyes.
I walked back to the Camaro with a shit-eating grin. Max had chosen her cassette - Don't Stop Believing. Journey wasn't a huge favorite of mine, but as I heard the drums reach a crescendo before the chorus was belted out, my grin widened. I had come to this event expecting to be bored to death by rich folk yammering about their privileges. As soon as I saw it was Sierra's house, I had made only one promise to myself. And for once, I had kept it.
Sierra Nightingale was my girl.