Tonight was the night.
I felt confident. I looked confident. Confidence was in my bones, running through my veins, the very essence of who I was. If there was one thing He and I agreed on, it was that I spent far too much time in front of the mirror. My preparation would start an hour and a half before lighting up a cigarette and leaving the house. Inside my head was an alarm clock for each stage of refining the image I'd spent years cultivating. First, came an extra arm workout - 4 sets of bicep curls, 4 sets of pull-ups, and 4 sets of clapping push-ups. When I was dripping with enough sweat, feeling the vertigo of adrenaline pulsing through my veins, I'd down a protein shake, toss it carelessly into the sink, and head into the shower. Then, I'd smoke up a little just as a pat on the back for the workout, keep the high going for as long as possible, get dressed, and start doing my hair. Once the leather jacket was on, a lit cigarette balancing in between my teeth and I'd do one last check to ensure I was primed and ready, I'd leave the house.
As I stood in front of the mirror, refining my everyday look, I grinned wolfishly at myself, running a tongue along my teeth. I looked on fucking fire - boot cut jeans, white shirt with the first four buttons open, dirty blonde curls in all the right places. Everything about me lived and breathed self-assuredness. Hell, I fucking felt it. It was real.
But then, something would creep into my mind. Words, the words I never wanted to hear pass her plump lips.
"I don't want you back, Billy"
"You hurt me, Billy"
"You're just like my dad, Billy. Just like your dad, Billy"
It was enough to send a cold shiver down my spine and I found my eyes deflecting from the supposedly confident reflection in front of me. But then, the glint of gold would resound in my memories of seeing Sierra at the pool yesterday. The gold flecks in her green eyes, the pendant I'd gifted to her still delicately snaked around her neck. I wondered, had she ever taken it off? Did she look down at it the night I screamed at her and ask herself what the hell happened or contemplate ripping it off and throwing it somewhere never to be found again? Three weeks of being apart and she still wore it. That had to mean something, right? Insecurities spread like shadows throughout my body, looming over any hopes and rattling them until they became limp. No, it had to mean something. Surely, if she had no feelings for me, she'd take it off. She would've sent it back to Him in the post or thrown it in the trash. No, that didn't seem like Sierra's style. She knew what the necklace meant to be - the one thing of Hers I clutched onto in the years of silence, only to present it to Sierra when I struggled to tell her she was my first love. She'd put it in a drawer, bury it like the letter from her mom under some cassette tapes or bank statements and pretend it never existed until the feelings came to the surface and she'd have to look at it again. Christ, how long would it have taken her to be able to stare back at the pendant? Would it have been years? What would we even be doing in years to come? Would we be together again? Dread filled my lungs, a strange sensation growing thicker and thicker in my throat. She could have anyone she wanted. Why should she have to settle for some angry bastard like me when she could get married to the likes of those in her own class? God, this was what the issue was the entire time. My goddamn insecurities. If I really wanted her back, if I really wanted her to want me back, I'd need to work on those. They were as natural as my DNA at this point, laced to the synthetic bravado and charm. She'd seen beyond it all. Surely, that was a spark of hope. A real, real hope that she could see beyond it all again and know that angry guy wasn't me.
But, it was you, Billy.
Fuck! It was me, but not the mask. I was working on it. I was really, seriously, working on it. It was why I left. I wanted to escape the smoldering lava ready to erupt from my body at any moment. I ran so far away that night to escape it, only to have it seep from me in whatever I did. Rough sex, fights on the beach, frantically swimming from one side of the beach to the next, throwing back shots. I didn't want that to be me. I came back to take accountability for what I did. God, I scared her. I scared her. The look of horror as it slowly fell over her face flashed in my mind. Furrowed brow. Wobbling lip. Tears. Blinded by tears.
I watched her run.
I watched.
And then I ran.
I shook my head. The sole fact alone that she was the one to extend the invitation to Hagan's meant there was something there for me. Ugh, fucking Bryony did too and I'd stupidly agreed to meet her there after the first chat with Sierra. Impulsivity had gotten to the better of me. But in my mind, it was concrete that Sierra wanted absolutely fuck all to do with me. She'd told me to have a good shift in this monotone voice, devoid of any emotion, and then came over all businesslike and gave me an ice cream. She was playing a game, and I knew exactly why. Just like in the beginning, she was seeing where she stood with me. Rolling the dice, keeping the poker face still, until she'd decided when it was time to either make a move or abandon ship. She was protecting herself. Protecting herself from me.
Fuck, why did I have to explode that night? We wouldn't be in this position. I wanted to punch a fucking wall. Drive my fist through it again and again. Wait for the entire fucking building to crumble and be grit underneath my feet. I'd done this. It was my fault. I should've just waited. Like I'd taught myself to do. I'd waited and waited before, inhaling one, two, three, and exhaling one, two, three. But there was something in me that night, something that switched off every button that had been switched on for months on end. It went further than seeing Sierra get hurt. It went further than Him. Every little thing in my mind was catapulted into a bleak oblivion when I saw the crimson blood dribble down her nose, staining the freckles I counted to sleep at night. He'd tarnished something so innocent, the only person I loved. Maybe it was because I was always scared my hands would replace his. That one day, I would be the monster. That the dark shadow He'd cast over me my entire life would slither into a corner, watch us in the house with lavender overlooking the ocean, familiarize himself with our kids voices, learn what made us smile, and suddenly pounce. What would it take? When I'd screamed at Sierra to get out of the house, I never heard my voice. I knew it was me. But all I heard was His voice. His voice screaming at her. His voice, low and seething, throwing each bellow like a knife ready to slaughter. Over and over again. Get the fuck out. Leave me. Leave me before I hurt you. Get the fuck out. Come back. My blood started to simmer. Get the fuck out. Fingers twitched. Never come back. They crackled loudly. You're just like Him, Billy. Fist clenched. And she knows it.
I cracked my neck and grunted.
Confident? Bullshit. I was scared as hell.
Enough of that.
I popped a cigarette in my mouth. The time was 6:50pm. I looked in the mirror.
Blue eyes penetrated deep beneath the surface. Sierra didn't want the mask. She never did. Not tonight. I was confident tonight. I wasn't Him. She still wore my necklace.
6:51pm.
Time to go.
I grabbed my leather jacket and made my way out, ensuring I turned off the lights with a flick of a switch. Shit, better lock the door too. I sauntered down the stairwell and headed into the backroom of Melvald's. The owner said I could go this way to save time which was pretty cool of him. I snaked down the various aisles full of useless shit like rubber ducks and bubble bath until I found myself looking at an array of flowers in all different colors. Sierra liked roses, but I didn't want her to raise an eyebrow. Maybe I should just leave it. No, no, I had to get her something. Even if it was just for an apology. But, shit, flowers? My eyes nervously scanned the rest of the store. What would be enough to let her know I was trying to make amends whilst not coming across like I was egging on her? Hopelessly lost in this situation, I took my mopey ass around the corner. The smell of freshly baked, sugary goods filled my nostrils. Zack's laughter reverberating in my mind hit me like a sudden jolt to the heart. The way her eyes glittered with hope, hope she'd finally found someone to be a part of her family, and mine reciprocating that feeling, was all I could see. Donuts it was.
Would this spur a memory for her? Bring back some feelings? I was on the fence about whether Sierra gave me that ice cream to be friendly or as her move in whatever game this was. Games usually sent a thrill down my spine, kept me on the move and revved up for anything to come. But, with these little games, I could easily predict the outcome. I always won. With Nightingale, I wasn't sure of my place. I wasn't sure if I was a winner or a loser. It turned me on and incensed me in the same second. Considering how we - I - left things, I didn't exactly want to play. What move was she going to make next? Was she actually going to show up or was she going to leave me hanging by the statue come 7pm? I ran a nervous hand through my curls, on the verge of abandoning the plan falling to pieces in my head. I wouldn't just be abandoning the donuts though. I'd be abandoning her. With a click of my tongue, I picked the donuts up. I had this. Everything was going to go exactly as I'd planned it.
"Looks like we both had the same plan, Hargrove"
Biting down on my lower lip to conceal any smirk, I composed myself and turned around. Slacken your shoulders, let your tongue trace the smirk, allow the husky chuckle to rumble in your throat. I obeyed the commands. Entice her. Excite her. Just like before.
"Well, well, well, Nightingale" I said, my lopsided grin rising.
Well, goddamn. She was on fucking fire. My eyes drifted over her, an intense heat working its way through my body. The acid washed denim mini skirt revealed her naturally bronzed, slender legs. The cropped black, halter neck complimented every curve I'd ran my fingers across. I imagined the last time I'd felt her silken skin underneath my touch. But those eyes… those green eyes twinkled. She shyly tucked a dark brown, loose curl behind her ear. As my eyes drifted down, breath hitched in my throat. There it was - the necklace. Glittering under the fluorescent light above us. The pendant winked at me as if it was on my side. I wanted her more than I could ever goddamn say. I wanted to soak her up, to drink her in. I wanted to hear her whisper how much she loved me in my ear. I had to cool myself down.
"Eyes up here, Hargrove" Sierra playfully chided.
Snapping me out of every thought racing inside my mind, I looked at the bridge of her freckled nose. Her eyes were too convincing, her body too tantalizing. This was safe. I had to play this safe. I counted the constellation of freckles, counting a total of six before I parted my lips to speak.
"Donuts, then?"
"Donuts it is"
We didn't move. Her fingers, painted in a deep red, curled over her elbows. Slowly, her body swayed back and forth. Those doe, green eyes fixated on my feet. Was she starting to think this was a mistake? I mean, was it? I was going to prove her otherwise. This was our chance to patch things up. My chance to apologize.
Wordlessly, we walked over to pay. I could see she was reaching for her purse. Gently, I touched her arm, instinctively stroking it with my thumb. To my relief, I wasn't met with a tense reaction. She softened. She smiled. I shook my head and got out a $5 bill, sliding it across the table. I couldn't help but watch her as she stared at my hand. We hadn't even said hello. Was this all we'd ever be again? Just two people who had so much to say, yet felt powerless to say anything?
Powerless.
Why was there even power here? There was power when she'd gave me that ice cream, power whenever the smirk rose on my lips, seeing the heated blush flush her cheeks. There was power right now in how she'd gone to get out her purse to pay and I'd touched her arm. There was power in how I'd screamed at her, in how she left. I shook my head again in a futile attempt to banish His voice, admonishing me once again.
You've lost her, Billy.
You're a goddamn pussy, Billy.
You'll never amount to anything, Billy.
The jangle of change in Mr Melvald's hand snagged me back to reality. Sierra tapped me on the shoulder and nodded towards the coins. I nodded in thanks and we left. A light breeze twirled around us. The silence was stronger. It was a thunderstorm hanging above us, the rumble before the hell.
"Are you okay?"
Once again, I was dragged back to reality. Her eyes were staring up at me. A crease formed in between her brows. Whatever was filling those eyes caused the whole of me to straighten up as if an invisible string was tugging on my head.
"Yeah, yeah" I murmured. "Sorry"
When would the one-word responses end? When would we go back to feeling comfortable around each other instead of strangers who didn't know how to speak beyond the niceties? I wanted nothing more than to forget, to time travel, to not be in the shadow of my own mistakes. Couldn't this all just be a dream and I'd wake up with everything perfectly okay? God, where the hell was the confidence, the bravado, I so desperately needed right now?
"So, how was California?" Sierra's quiet voice asked. We were slowly strolling around the square with no clue of any particular destination. I pulled the car keys from my pocket. We needed to head to Hagan's. That was the idea. "Let's walk there. It's not far and it, er, gives us some time to…"
"...talk" I finished for her.
"Yeah, talk" Sierra nodded and we fell into a slower pace together. "So, California?"
The breeze continued to whistle in our ears. I peered up at the low sun, crinkling my eyes at the intensity of its rays, as I tried to identify just how I felt with her in this precise moment. I was wary. Wary that I'd fuck up again, that I'd hurt her. Or, even more daunting, that she'd hurt me. She'd never do it intentionally. Then again, I'd never hurt her before this. Would she want me to feel exactly how I'd made her feel that night? Alone, unworthy. Those were my feelings though, not hers. Had she felt unsafe, walking home alone? Or had she felt unsafe when the venom spat out my mouth? I wondered if she'd felt safer walking home in the dark, knowing what lurked out there, or in that small, crusty bedroom with me.
"You're doing it again, Hargrove" she said, her voice having this singsong feel to it. Was she being playful? One look at her told me otherwise. She was deadly serious. "You wanna get to the point instead?"
"California was okay" I did not want to get to the point. I didn't want to hear from her how we could be just friends, or be eternal strangers. I would rather be in this limbo than know the fate awaiting us. I could feel my skin crawl at the very idea. I didn't want to be in a limbo. I wanted us to be us again. "Warm, did a lot of surfing" She raised an inquisitive brow at me. Let me just have this for a little longer, Nightingale - please. "I, uh, went to the beach we went to"
"It was a pretty nice beach" she replied, letting out a soft chuckle. "Was it good to go back?"
Was it good to go back? Was it good to be there without her, the memories of her being in my arms and laughing rushing over my mind faster than the tide coming to shore? Was it good to feel like a foreigner in my own territory?
"Yeah, it was okay"
It wasn't okay.
It fucking sucked.
"I shouldn't have left"
I stopped in my steps, firmly placing my feet on the ground. My toes started to curl. Jaw set, teeth digging into the inside of my cheeks, I faced her. Her eyes were full of sadness, the brightness of the sun enhancing every feature. The gold flecks were drowned by tears. In their reflection, there was me, a mirror of her.
"I shouldn't have either" I paused, taking a step towards her.
I wanted to reach out to her, to brush the tears away as they slipped and cascaded down her cheeks. She rubbed them away before I had the chance to. I dropped my hand to my side and released the deep exhale that had been building in my throat. I'd never felt this far away from her before, even when we had over a thousand miles between us. Once upon a time, nobody had known me like she had. A mutual understanding of what it was to live in our skins, wear our masks and reside amongst chaos was at the core of our relationship. Trauma had bonded us, but care and love for who we were when all of that was stripped back kept us together. Our naked, barren selves were the two people who danced in the car to Motley Crue, squeezed hands as reassurance and laughed at inappropriate jokes. Would we get that back or had we lost it already?
"I get why you left. I don't hate you for it, Billy" Sierra started to fumble around in her pocket, revealing a pack of Virginia Slims. After picking one out with noticeably shaky fingers, she lit it up and passed it to me. I wasn't a fan of slims, but hey, it was going for free. "All we've known is people leaving us. I should've stayed when you clearly needed someone to" She blew a cloud of smoke out, averting her eyes so they were facing our shuffling feet. "I don't want you out of my life"
And there it was. But, who would I be in her life? The question hovered above my head like a stifling humidity. Physically, I could feel it build up and up, beads of sweat breaking out indistinguishably underneath my curls.
"I don't want you out of mine, Nightingale" For a moment, I could've sworn she'd brushed her hand against mine. Had she? There was no mistaking the silken feel of her bronzed skin. It could lull me to sleep in the most violent of thunderstorms, drive me crazy under sedation.
I passed the cigarette back to her. Before I could control myself, my thumb quickly brushed over hers, sending electric shocks down my bones. As if magnetized, our eyes drifted up and caught hold. My gaze was hungry, but not lustful. No, I was hungry to hold her again, to breathe her in and lose myself in her honeyed voice. I didn't know what we were anymore and it was both infuriating and intoxicating. There was a chance to start afresh, to be as we once were before all this shit kicked off. Some nights in California, I'd watched the sunset over the ocean and recall when I'd first met Nightingale. I missed the blush drowning out her freckles, the way I could make torrents of giggles spill out of her mouth. Too much had happened in the last few months of being together with her grandfather, college, and all the other shit. Things had become too serious. I hated seeing it affect her, hating more how I felt powerless to change it all when fucking God or whoever up there was the one in charge of whatever was to happen. Sometimes, it was like seeing a shadow of her former self. It was another reason I wanted to take her away from it all, to get the girl I'd fallen in love with back. We just stood here, searching each other's faces, searching for the reason why we were both standing here in the first place. The reason was crystal clear. Surely, we'd both found out the second our eyes locked.
We were in love. We still loved each other.
I loved her because the girl who'd passed me a lighter that day in October had never truly left. For so long, defeat after defeat - custody battles, reminders of a bleak past, reminders of a bleak future - I thought the flicker of golden light was fading. It hadn't. She'd always been one step behind, just waiting for the right time to bounce back. I stood in front of her so I could turn around and beckon her over, to let her know it was okay to stop hiding, just like how she'd dug her way into my core and whispered kindly for the real Billy Hargrove to emerge from his hiding place. I stood here, getting lost in the golden flecks of her eyes, because I came back just so I could be right here. Right here at this moment. The moment we both could realize together that we could move past what had happened and work to ensure the mistakes of the past didn't have to haunt us.
Then, unexpectedly, Sierra stepped towards me. She paused, hesitant as to what she was actually doing. What was she actually doing? I was both curious and waiting for my heart to erupt. Her lips parted and she took a sharp inhale of breath, but whatever was going to come out faltered. She was standing before a decision: to say something or be quiet. But her choice was one I didn't even expect. My stomach lurched, and I felt this quiver in my throat. She wrapped her arms around me with such featherlike tenderness, it felt as if I were slipping into a dream. It felt like I was finally home.
Home, home, home.
I let my eyes close, isolating myself from the world. All I could feel was her lukewarm breath tickle my bare chest, a light shudder liberating itself after seconds of being held back. My fingers lost themselves in her hair, strands falling through them until my hands were completely covered by her glossy curls. My other arm tightly held onto her petite frame, embracing whatever it was we were in that moment. Friends, lovers, two people who deeply missed one another, a connection, two wounded souls. We were still undefined. But we were just still. Her, in my arms, was all I could ask for right now. Away from the panic and terror contorting into rage, away from the echoes of my growls that night. She'd come back. She was finally here, finally unafraid. For now, I could just savor running my hands through her hair and feeling her warm breath expand on my chest. I could just stand here and be with her. She could just stand here and be with me. We could just stand together. We could just be.
"Sierra…" I breathed, unsure of where my words were taking me.
I was always a man of action. I never talked with my mouth. "You've pissed me off" was driving my fist through someone's eye sockets. "I need love" was making a girl come beneath me. "I'm sorry" was doing someone a favor, never to be spoken about again. Right now, "I love you. I'm sorry. Please, let me in" was gently stroking Sierra's cheeks, my thumb creating an invisible painting between each freckle. No, she wanted both. She deserved both. C'mon, Hargrove. Be a fucking man. Say it.
"I - "
But before I could even form the words on the tip of my tongue, a deafening screech of rubber tires against hot asphalt caused us both to flinch.
"Hey, enough of the PDA, dickheads, and get into my car!" Fucking Tommy H…
I suppressed a growl and twisted my head around to view Tommy H, Carol, Ray and Bryony leering out of the car windows. They all had a rather amused expression painted on their faces. Tommy's tongue dangled out of his mouth like a dog waiting for a slab of meat. We were the slab of meat on his plate. Something to entertain him, something to keep his adrenaline running outside of the banality of his real life. I'd spent too many nights listening to an intoxicated Tommy H ramble on about the many misgivings life had given him. His parents bought him a new car? Well, it should've been a BMW instead of a Ford. Carol kissed another, better looking guy at a party? Fuck her, he'd cheated on her five times already with blondes from college. Yet, he still drove the Ford and still fucked Carol. Tommy H was a spoiled brat whose existence purely ran on drama, popularity and his parents compensating for the years they didn't love him. Speaking of spoiled brats, Queen Bee herself was oscillating between being amused, jealous, to incandescent with rage, before going straight back to square one. I rolled my eyes and sharply exhaled. I had no clue how these dicks were going to succeed beyond high school. I'd attend a reunion in 10 years just to see how they turned out, purely for my own amusement.
I placed my hand on the small of Sierra's back, guiding us to the car. We'd get plenty of opportunities to talk later. Thick smoke wafted around them, fleeing out of the small crack in the windows. Well, it was good to know Eddie Munson made a few bucks tonight. I slid across the backseat, forcing a complacent Ray to virtually smush his face against the window. He still gave me a wide grinned greeting and passed a joint to me, so whatever. I was about to get Sierra to sit on my lap when Bryony climbed aboard with an irritating squeal. Before I could even so much as tell her to get off, Sierra had sat down next to Ray, eyes downcast and hands clasped together. As for Bryony's hands, they were everywhere - snaking around my neck like vines, teasing stray curls, caressing my jawline like it was some marble statue. I went to push her off when Ray, surprisingly, came to my rescue and tugged her onto his lap like she was a play thing. Bryony slapped him away with an affronted scoff. I kinda got where she was coming from, but it wasn't helping me out in the slightest. I peered over at Sierra. Her eyes weren't leaving the torn up paper McDonald's bag at her feet, the shredded golden arches staring right back at her with disdain. I could feel anger boil in my veins. This was not how I anticipated this night to start off. I just smoked the joint, feeling the furious embers burn beneath my fingers. Jesus, I was pissed off beyond belief. I was a complete fucking fool.
"Long time no see, Hargrove!" Tommy cheered. That was his first lie of the night. We'd seen each other two days before to buy weed from Munson. It was a relatively quick exchange of hey, how you doing, see ya later, before he yelled at me from across the trailer park to get my ass to his party tonight. I'd thrown him a thumbs up before getting into the Camaro and speeding off. "How's my favorite traitor doing?"
"Good to see you're still an asshole, Tommy" Sierra sighed, leaning into the seat as if she were hoping it would swallow her whole.
I had no idea why we were both going to this party. Hell, Sierra had only gone to Tommy's regular parties a few times when we were together. She absolutely loathed Tommy and his merry troupe of loyal followers, even whilst she was a part of them. She was one of the people she'd loathed the most, purely because she'd camouflaged herself in a cheerleader outfit and went along with whatever they said or did. She'd played the role for years until last November. Ever since, Tommy had given her a nickname of his 'favorite traitor'. When I was with her, I could threaten Tommy with a black eye or dissent. Either option would reduce his position in the ranks. Weighing up the very few pros and abundance of cons, Tommy obeyed me and the rest of his, now my, army followed suit. I glared at Tommy in the windshield mirror and he nodded with a smirk on his lips. The rest of the short journey to Tommy's house followed with Bryony yapping on about how she was going to start working at Daddy's law firm, Carol suckling on Tommy's neck, Ray trying to conceal his boner, and Sierra staring forlornly out of the window. At least Bryony wasn't on my lap anymore.
I wondered why we did it to ourselves. For a good night, to relieve the boredom of this humdrum hicktown, or were we more into conformity than what we wanted to admit? I shook my head and mirrored Sierra, staring at the trees as they fled in and out of my view.
When we parked up next to Harrington, Sierra virtually launched herself out of the car. Naturally, I seized the chance to be finally free of Bryony's continual petting and screeching, and followed. Harrington, Pepsi and Nancy greeted us warmly with hugs and cans of cider. Okay, Pepsi and Harrington were warm. Pepsi was giddy as usual, dressed in a white tulle dress. Harrington, the seemingly cool guy of Hawkins in his usual get-up. But, Nancy Drew was ice cold, only shedding some warmth when Sierra gave her a nudge. If her eyes were truly daggers, then I would've dropped dead the moment we got here. Hesitant to concede, she merely nodded at me and I returned it. I knew first-hand from Harrington that Nancy wasn't exactly my number one fan. Hell, I wasn't hers. What she did to Harrington was bullshit and we all knew it. We were cordial to one another to say the least. I pretty much tolerated her for the group's sake.
"Right, Hargrove, maybe you can settle this for me" Harrington gestured to Pepsi who rolled her eyes dramatically and huffed. "Pepsi's telling me here that she doesn't think Heather is into her anymore"
"Bullshit" I drawled, sticking a cigarette in my mouth before offering a pissed off Pepsi one. She accepted quicker than she'd ever done before. Fuck, she must be stressed. "Believe me, Heather doesn't stop yapping on about you"
Oh, there'd been real movement in the whole Heather and Pepsi sitting in a tree situation. Before I'd left, Heather was regularly joining us on the group shit we got up to. One day in early June, Harrington, Pepsi, Heather, Sierra and I had gone for a hike in the Indiana Dunes, and there was no fooling us at all. They were holding hands, giggling at each other's jokes. It was nauseating as fuck, but we all secretly liked seeing them finally doing couple shit.
"Hm, then why doesn't she want to come to the party with me tonight?" Pepsi sarcastically replied.
"Is she here at the moment?" Nancy asked.
Pepsi's head dipped low, her bleach blonde bob sadly moving with the shake of her head. Woah, Pepsi was deep here. I could tell she was genuinely upset. I threw a consoling arm around her shoulders, giving her small frame a little shake. When I first met Pepsi, I harbored some serious misgivings about her. She reminded me of a female Eddie Munson to a degree - always performing for an audience, always waiting for the first clap of applause to ring in her ears. But, she had an endearing quality about her that I couldn't shake off. She was like a rocket on legs. Relentlessly full of energy, letting her sparks fly unabashedly. I respected her the moment she threw a bright pink smoothie over Bryony and stood by her friend when she could've quite easily looked the other way. All of the cheerleaders Sierra had been friends with didn't so much as breathe their names because they were afraid of what Bryony would do. Pepsi made it clear she was in Sierra's corner. I was only somewhat friends with Harrington only a few months into dating Sierra. I wasn't used to having actual connections. Hell, Harry and Micahel were only there for the fun ride at times. Harrington and Nancy stowed away their doubts about me initially. It was only after a chat before the Christmas Ball when Harrington and I warmed up to the idea of being something beyond acquaintances. But Pepsi never failed to be the bright ball of light. When I'd pick Sierra up from their Saturday ice cream tradition at the diner, Pepsi always told me to sit my butt down and join them. If we were at a party, Pepsi would hug Sierra and then hug me. Initially, I thought it was because I was with her best friend. But, one day, I was driving aimlessly around Hawkins after a bust-up with Him, my fingers furiously drumming the steering wheel to whatever angry song I could find. I'd stopped at a red traffic light when the sound of rapping at the passenger window distracted me. As I shot whoever it was a look of sheer rage, Pepsi's wide, beaming smile never faltered.
"Jeez, Hargrove, you look like you could use a joint or two" Pepsi had remarked before pulling two joints out of her jacket pocket. "Fancy a little break?"
Reluctantly, I let her into the car and we drove to the back of her house. I was surprised Pepsi didn't try to force conversation and instead just gave me simple directions to her modest, two bedroom house three blocks away from Cherry Lane. Unlike Harrington and Sierra, Pepsi didn't come from a privileged background. As she later revealed, her dad had died before she was 10 and her mom actually worked at the same diner Susan did. It was the same diner she and Sierra went to for ice cream on Saturday's. Turns out she had a little sister who had just been born when her dad passed away. The big C. Her mom was still trying to pay off the insurance loan she'd taken out to save her dad's life. Pepsi's real name was Joan. Joan Jones. I'd remarked how that seemed more like a movie star's name than anything else. But, Pepsi was a nickname her dad had given her. Three days after his funeral, she wouldn't answer anything else. It was her dad's legacy, she'd told me. I wasn't exactly going to question her. Besides, it would be pretty cool if I had a different name. Billy was the best I could get. But yeah, Pepsi was golden and I respected the shit out of her for not being afraid to be something other than the norm.
"Ah, Peps, you gotta save your dramatics for your theater jazz stuff. She probably just doesn't want to deal with Tommy H's shit" I commented and passed Sierra my cigarette. "What'dya think, Nightingale?"
"She's still into you, Peps. You saw her at the pool yesterday, right? She literally stayed after her shift to help you scoop ice cream" Sierra said.
"I mean, it could've been for me" Steve chuckled, much to everyone's dismay.
"Ugh, don't be an asshole, Harrington" Sierra groaned.
"I'd never take away Hargrove's title" Steve coolly responded, giving me a wink.
"Good boy" I drawled, softly slapping his cheek.
"Enough of the foreplay, dickheads" Pepsi laughed, a billow of smoke out of her mouth. But, the laughter soon dissipated along with the smoke. Pepsi rolled her eyes and let out a dramatic groan. "Oh God, does anyone have any smoothies for me to launch?"
Suddenly, I felt a tight grasp around my bicep. Pepsi and I shared a flash of annoyance in our eyes. Immediately, Nancy snaked an arm through Sierra's and towed her away towards the hordes of people. God fuckin'damnit.
"I heard that, Pepsi" Bryony said in this sickeningly fake voice. I snagged my arm out of hers. Fucking annoying prissy bitch. Was she not getting the message that I didn't want to be around her?
"That was the point, Hamilton" Pepsi droned. She rolled her eyes and passed her empty can to me. "Good luck, Hargrove"
Soon enough, Pepsi was swanning off through the hordes of people to catch up with Sierra and Nancy who were hanging by the drinks stand. Nancy was pouring Sierra a pretty large cup of whatever the fuck Tommy H had gotten Carol to make. I turned to Bryony, eyes ablaze and ready to rip ten bells of shit out of her, when I felt Harrington pull on my jacket.
"Let's grab a drink, Hargrove" Harrington motioned to go when Bryony let out a fucking horrific high pitched 'Ooh' and started dragging me there.
"Great idea! Ugh, I can't wait to get wasted tonight. My parents bought this seriously shit champagne for dinner and it hasn't even touched the sides" Bryony moaned. God, she was a spoiled Daddy's girl if I'd ever met one.
Harrington gave me an awkward sympathetic look as he walked alongside us. He had one word for me, mouthing it with silent enunciation: 'Don't'. I knew what he meant. Don't make a scene. No one told me what to do and I was tempted to give Bryony the real facts here and now, but for once, I had to concede. Harrington was right. I shrugged Bryony off again which earned me a 'tsk' and a flip of bleached blonde hair. I was seriously regretting the one moment of impulsivity I had yesterday when I thought Sierra had rejected me. Fuck, this had to be karma. I never believed in that shit until now. I was trying to get Sierra back and here was Miss Queen Bee, virtually spreading her legs right in front of everyone for me. Honestly, they say guys are difficult. Well, guess we are considering how I'd ended up in this situation. Goddamn stupid ass, Billy…
I stood next to Sierra when we joined them and leaned against the table. Pepsi let out a loud, 'ugh!', scrunching her face up and letting out fake, little cries the second she saw who'd bombarded in front of Harrington and I.
"Pepsi, are you, like, mentally ill?" Bryony asked sarcastically.
"What the hell, Bryony?" Sierra snapped.
Nancy's jaw had pretty much dislocated itself and kamikazed onto the floor. But, Pepsi, no, Pepsi was amused as fuck. She joined me in leaning against the table, defiant arms leisurely crossed over her chest.
"What?" Bryony gasped, surprised at the supposed audacity for someone to question her.
"Do continue, Hamilton. This is making my day" Pepsi coolly remarked in a show of unbothered ease.
"It's because she very clearly doesn't like you. None of us are exactly a fan of you, so why are you here?" Sierra snapped. I put my hand on the small of her back. She moved away. Shit, did she think something was going on between me and Bryony?
"Oh, I think you know why I'm here" Bryony declared, as if the answer was completely obvious. Well, it really fucking was and it sucked. She smirked and let this weird, satisfied chuckle rumble in her throat. "Don't worry, you guys well and truly suck ass, so I'm going to actually have some fun. Bye, Hargrove, see you when you figure out when to be cool again"
I rolled my eyes. High school was over and I wasn't exactly planning on hanging out with them other than to get my ass into a party. Besides, I knew these guys would be better friends than those pretentious assholes. I could actually talk to them about shit that mattered for starters.
"Thank God, I'd never thought you'd go!" Pepsi sighed. "Oh, and for the record, I'm just batshit crazy. It's a theater kid thing, girl"
Bryony rolled her eyes and advanced towards Carol and Tina whose jaws moved furiously as they chomped on what must be hours old gum. Or they'd snorted enough coke to make a snowman. Either one.
"Thank fuck for that" I muttered and poured Pepsi a drink. "You okay?"
"It's gonna take more than the likes of Queen Bee to get to me, Hargrove" Pepsi chuckled and raised a glass to me. "But thanks all the same. And to you, my Princess in shining armor" she then said, turning to Sierra who shook her head in disdain.
"Don't thank me, Peps. Bryony needs to know she's not captain of the cheer squad anymore and actually get back to reality" Sierra stated and poured herself another drink. "It'd be good if we all just left high school behind us"
By the way her eyes flickered up at me and the swift reaction of the inferno in the pits of my stomach, I guessed that was aimed at me. I stared at her through heavy lidded eyes. She excused herself to use the bathroom. I wanted to confront her, to ask what the fuck that was all about. But, as much as I hated to admit it, she was right. High school was over. Done. Finito. She was just telling me what I always knew. Tommy H was an asshole who thrived on being lifted by others' popularity. Carol would never leave him. Their relationship would be based on the memories of what they put others through. They'd never pick up a book or forget about the speech Hagan had made at the Championship. They'd breed kids who have the need to feed off the misery of others weaving through their DNA. Their kids would be brought up to repeat the pasts of their parents. Bullies of 1985 existing in 2005. It was pathetic.
As for me, I wanted that dominance. Always had. Whilst I'd been a loner, happy to be alone in my car with only rock music for company, the desire to have the upper hand anywhere had been both my ally and enemy. I had a chance to turn things around, a chance to be better. My future wasn't Neil Hargrove. I was not my Dad. I was not a bully. I had been. I screamed at Max, bruised her wrist from my grasp. I scared Sierra. I kicked the air under Harrington's legs and made him fall. I used Tommy H, Carol and Bryony to indulge the one part of the bully that still lived. If I continued, I'd become victims like them - victims of status quo, offenders of repeating the past. I sure as hell was no victim. Victims watched everything they had fall out of their fingers and descended into madness. I was done courting chaos. I wasn't going to standby and watch the girl I loved walk away. Nor was I going to have her think of me being in the same league as Tommy H. We needed to talk. I didn't need Pepsi wordlessly gesturing for me to follow or Harrington's sage advice. No, if I was going to admit wrongdoing, I was doing it alone. No audience, no fanfare. Just Sierra and I.
Silently, I pushed away from the drinks table and followed her. The closer I got to the house, the more I felt the twinkly synth of You Spin Me Right Round prickle in my ears. Fuck, I hated Hagan's music choices. But hey, a party is a party and people will dance for as long as the buzz of alcohol lets them. Exhibit A, a group of cheerleaders overly popping their chests in and out as they suckled on shot glasses. Bryony had already clocked my moody ass and whistled over the crowd, performing her very best attempt at a blow job shot. I rolled my eyes and kept on pushing my way to the staircase. It was a surreal walk. 10th graders wrestling as boisterous college guys threw anything at them - $20 notes, bags of cocaine, a full can of beer. Shit, there was a guy in a red letterman jacket literally throwing the keys to his BMW. Girls were getting topless and swinging their tits around on the couch as the guys chasing them started a pillow fight. It was fucking wild. I would have fucking revelled this less than a year ago. Hagan's parties were never dull. I was done with this shit. Although, the infamous smirk couldn't help but crawl up as I ascended the stairs. The chaos had a warmth of nostalgia. There was a part of me that wanted to turn back. Should I? It would be just like dipping my toes in the ocean…
Just as the thought crept into my head, I saw a silhouette against the bright light coming out of the bathroom. My eyes crinkled in discomfort as the light hit me. Here was my answer. Chaos, self-destruction, ruining my insides night after night and being around these fake assholes was not my answer. She was. We were the answer.
"Sierra," I started as I jogged up the stairs "hold up a second"
Her lips gaped as I advanced towards her. Without a word uttered between us, we made our way to Hagan's bedroom. But, as soon as I opened the door, I was welcomed with the worst sight I'd ever seen.
Hagan and Carol were really going at it. Shit, I didn't even think he'd have the stamina! And Carol… well, I was pleasantly surprised. 'Still wouldn't touch her with a barge pole though.
Sierra groaned in disgust and grabbed my hand to make a quick exit. I barked out a loud laugh that echoed past the door as it slammed shut and followed Sierra as she dragged me into the bathroom. Christ, that image will be searing away at my memories for the rest of my natural born life. Hagan needed to give his balls a shave, that's for sure.
"Jesus Christ" I chuckled, leaning against the towel rail. Turns out Hagan didn't give a shit. He had Carol moaning and it wasn't exactly quiet. Combine Carol's pig squeals and whatever crap was going on in the other bedroom adjoined to this shit tip and it looked like we were stuck in here. "Looks like this is the best we can do"
We were quiet for a long moment, neither of us knowing exactly what to say. The silence seemed to drown out all other noises. Her arms were hugging her waist and I became suddenly aware of how fucking small she actually was. I mean, I knew she was small, but the energy she gave out, the way she presented herself, made her seem taller. Sierra seemed completely different here - unsure of herself, unsure of me.
"I feel like I'm in a bad porn video" Sierra said, biting on her lips as she tried to keep in her giggles.
Finally, after what seemed like the longest few minutes of my life, our eyes drifted up and we looked at each other. Really looked. The biggest smiles crept up on our lips, and before we knew it, splutters of laughter spilled out of our mouths as the over-the-top moans grew louder and louder. Who knew overhearing Tommy H and Carol banging would be the thing to bring us closer? I wouldn't credit them for it, but it was pretty fucking funny.
"You think he's watched too many videos from the '70s?" I laughed.
"Well, we haven't heard the porn groove start playing yet, so there's still hope for him" she replied, the protective arms around her body loosening and freely dropping at her sides. I threw back my head, an uproar of our laughter filling the room. Shit, I missed this banter with her. It felt like old times. The warm sensation taking over me wasn't new, but it was so foreign to me at the same time. It was the love I'd had for her right at the start. It wasn't the same. This love was like a cozy blanket, tattered and worn, but so familiar and comforting. Just us two being harem enjoying ourselves, was like wrapping us in the blanket and snuggling in bed. I had her back. Surely, I had her back now.
Out of nowhere, the most guttural, earth-shattering moan known to mankind echoed from Hagan's room. Our eyes widened. Sierra's jaw virtually dropped to the fucking ground.
"Holy shit, was that from…?" Sierra pointed slowly to the wall.
"Well, if those demodogs ever come back, we know how to scare them off" I quietly laughed.
"Ooh, throwing Carol and Hagan into the Upside Down? Nice plan, Hargrove" she giggled, placing a hand over her smile in an attempt to keep hushed.
Out of pure instinct, I moved closer to her, daring the tips of my fingers to graze her waist. To my pleasant surprise, she melted into my touch. I put a finger to my lips, struggling to contain the embarrassing snorts fleeing. Shit, I hadn't laughed this much in ages. I mean, I was fucking snorting for Christs sakes. The corners of my mouth were twinging, but they weren't begging to go back to the neutral, bored line it had been forced to endure for the last few weeks. I was basically hovering over Sierra, the both of us desperately trying to keep our laughter muffled, whispering 'shh' at one another. Soon, we heard Hagan's voice traveling closer and closer. I took Sierra's waist, pinning myself up against the wall with the door shielding us from Hagan's view. I held her close, my hand draped over her hips. Big mistake… her ass was pressed so tightly against my crotch. I never thought I'd pray hard enough for Hagan to say something incredibly fucked up in all my life, but if it stopped me from getting a boner then I'd let the guy feel like Hawkin's king for a night. The door opened slightly and Hagan stumbled in to clean his hands. We both held our breath. It was pretty fucking difficult though when Hagan was bare-ass naked. Well, at least I was safe from getting a hard-on now.
"Get me a towel, Tommy" Carol demanded from behind the door.
"Get your own fucking towel" Hagan countered, slurring over the rush of water flowing from the tap.
"Tommy, I've got your cum all over my face. You get the fucking towel!" Carol screeched.
All it took was one look at each and the entire attempt fell to pieces, laughter erupting between us. Hagan, dick on show and all, didn't even wait to see who was laughing as he fled the room, cursing like a goddamn sailor. I grabbed Sierra's hand and ran into the opposite room where we discovered Ray and some guy who'd worn a toga and slept outside Tina's house in his own vomit last Halloween snorting coke off Tina's tits. Howling with insane laughter still, I seized the bag of coke before they could do another line and opened the door to the adjoining bathroom, chucking it in.
"Catch" I gruffly commanded, giving Ray a firm slap on the back as they got up and chased the bag like rabid dogs.
After a contemplative moment, I shrugged and motioned to Sierra to join me by the door. I kicked it shut and pushed the majority of my body weight up against it which Sierra copied. There was no way in hell those dicks were getting out now. We smirked at each other, letting out hushed snickers as we pressed our ears against the wood. Like a couple of goddamn kids. There was some chatter of Tina suggesting another place to have a line and Ray making some lewd comeback. Then, right on time, the door on the other end crashed open.
"The hell are you doing creeping on me in my own bathroom, you fuckers?" Hagan bellowed.
Suddenly, we heard a high pitched scream. Jesus Christ, I hoped it came from Ray. Please let it be Ray. That would be the cherry on top.
"What the hell was on that towel, you pig?!" Tina cried.
Sierra and I stumbled back, literally clinging onto our aching sides to stop ourselves from falling backwards from how much we were laughing. Dear fucking Lord, Hagan was a goddamn mess.
"The best five minutes of your life! That's what, Tina!" Hagan shouted back before the door slammed shut.
Sierra buckled forwards, her infectious laughter cascading out of her mouth. I couldn't fucking stop either and held onto her waist, supporting her back up.
"Only five minutes?" she wheezed. I pressed a finger to my mouth, but even I struggled to contain myself. Christ, poor Tina. Well, poor anyone desperate enough to go with Hagan for the night. "Man, I forgot all the weird shit that goes down at Hagan's parties"
We just stood there, laughing uncontrollably together. It was the best feeling in the goddamn world. But as the laughter subsided, a more serious feeling loomed over us. I peered at her, my tongue running over my bottom lip. She looked really fucking good. She looked even better as those green eyes held my gaze. There was a certain magic in the air, causing me to become increasingly aware that this was the moment I'd been waiting for. The laughter, the insatiable need to be touching one another. It was so fucking real. I felt the familiar twitch of excitement rush below. In my imagination, I swiftly captured her lips, cupping her cheek with my free hand as the other loosened her bra. I was fucking her against the wall, feeling her clench around me, hearing her tell me how much she loved me. I was stroking her curls, stuck to her face, and telling her I loved her too. We were kissing. We were together. But, my imagination wasn't being enacted. We stood inches apart, our breathing light yet heavy, hands hesitating from getting what we really wanted - to touch one another, to explore, to define.
"I wanted to talk to you" I breathed.
"So, talk" Sierra whispered back, her head dipping. Her tone was such a contrast. It was curt, yet extremely gentle. Torn between getting hurt and opening up. Tenderly, I tilted it upwards, her eyes glowing. "Bryony seems to be a big fan of you this evening"
"Bryony's gonna be Bryony. She's always trying shit" I murmured back, far too casually. If I hadn't known her so well, I would've never picked up on the way she'd raise her eyebrows when she didn't like something. So when she did this, I quickly changed my tune. "I don't exactly want her to try anything"
Suddenly, the enticement emanating from her dimmed into total darkness and she inched backwards. Fuck, I'd blown it. The twin, inside my mind, leaned against the white picket fence of the lavender house and threw his head back with an evil laugh. This was his plan. To get me all to himself.
"Then tell her, Hargrove"
I let out a scoff and held my hands behind my head.
"I've been pushing her off of me" I retorted. The mask was winning. The twin was ready to possess me again. He was shoved in the corner. He didn't like that one bit.
"I don't think she's getting the hint" Sierra turned to leave. A sudden jolt in my heart caused me to virtually leap forwards and grasp her hand. I gave it a squeeze. Don't leave. The twin was confused. He was a lone wolf. He was a bachelor. He didn't want anyone. Didn't need anybody. Was I just trying to fool myself? With earnest eyes, she looked up at me. "Why are we here, Billy?"
"In Hagan's sisters bedroom?" I said quietly, brushing the inside of her palm with my thumb.
She was warm. So goddamn warm. I wanted to be completely consumed by the warmth. Get us away from here. From the questions, from everything.
"No, this party. Why are we here?"
She had me stumped. It was the exact question I'd asked myself earlier. Why were we in a place with people we couldn't stand? What did we both have to say for ourselves? Her words had sounded like she wanted me to give her the justification whilst simultaneously telling her we needed to own up to what we were doing.
"Doing what everyone else is doing - getting loaded, having a good time" I replied.
"Are you having a good time?" she asked, those meek, lowered eyes peering up at me.
I always had a good time at parties. I was the fucking life of them. Shit, now I was thinking. Was I actually having fun or was I escaping something? Chasing the next thrill, getting the next beer down my throat so I could melt into the chaos and allow it to consume me whole until I woke up the next day to deal with the same old shit. Fuck, I needed to stop this.
"Yeah, it's alright" I shrugged and sat down on the bed.
"Always the cool guy, ain't you, Hargrove?" Sierra clicked her tongue and gave her head a shake. She sat at the opposite side of the bed, her back turned to me.
She was right. Chaos wasn't my only friend anymore. It never had been. Chaos was always plotting against me. I was truly living in its shadow. Dropping the mask was hard. So fucking hard. How many times had I confessed this exact problem?
"Maybe we should get out of here then" I suggested, the act officially vanishing from plain sight.
"To do what?" Sierra asked, a curious brow quirking upwards. Innocently, she tilted her head, doe-eyes staring at me. "Oh, yes. That's right. To talk! Talk away then, Hargrove. I'm all ears"
I shuffled towards her, hands in pocket. I just had to be near her. Every word that came out of my mouth was determining whether she'd move closer or away. Leaning forwards, my lips teased her ear and allowed my fingers to linger over the fine silver chain.
"You're still wearing the necklace?" I whispered, feeling the outside of her ear tickle my nose. I held the pendant on the tip of my finger like it was something holy. I was on the precipice of finding out everything that would put every piece together. We'd glue, meld together again. Surely, we had to. "Why?"
I was being a flirt, a charmer. But there was a certain shudder in my voice that made me the most vulnerable I'd ever been before. She knew what the necklace meant to me. A bloom of red flushed the freckles dotted on her cheeks. Those precious pieces were coming together after all. That was why she was wearing it.
"Do you seriously need to ask, Hargrove?" she whispered back, a small laugh escaping. She moved her head, eyes locking onto mine. To my surprise, her fingers wrapped around mine. "You know why I'm still wearing it"
The look she gave me, so pure yet teasing at an answer, was nearly enough to bring me over the edge. Fuck, her eyes were so beautiful. They were like beach glass, sparkling up at me. Everything melted around us - the bedroom, the music, the house. Suddenly, it was just us two. The palm of my hand moved so it fully embraced her burning cheek. We were so close to one another, her gentle breath mingling with my heavy breathing. I was shitting myself. We were this close. So fucking close to what we both clearly wanted, but it felt like we were on the brink of losing it all. Perhaps this was my fear. That we could be this close again and she could take off the necklace, move away from me, tell me I was an idiot for thinking I had another shot with her. I had to take the gamble. Delicately, my lips hovered over hers, inhaling her hot breath as it expanded over my tongue. It was her, it was me, it was us, and this was the closest we were to that beautiful fucking horizon.
A sudden bang sent both Sierra and I into action. She moved away, patting down her dress. Me, however, my fists were clenched and ready to knock seven bells out of the fucker who'd interrupted us. Hagan stood, leaning against the doorframe, amusedly darting his eyes between Sierra and I as he indiscreetly belted his pants back up. Sierra tutted and distractedly went into the bathroom, turning on the tap. In the corner of my eye, I saw her pat down her face with shaky hands. She was bright red. Hagan, picking up on this, let out a loud cheer and patted me roughly on the back. With my nostrils flaring and back stiffened, I glared at him. The fucking bastard had the audacity to waltz in here and not only ruin the moment, but then be a ridiculing little shit about it. It didn't matter we'd just seen his ass cheeks literal minutes ago. Nope, not the same goddamn thing apparently.
"Good to see you've been enjoying yourself, Hargrove" Hagan said in a low chuckle, going to pat my back again. I caught his wrist and shoved him backwards, glowering at him. "Save that energy for Bryony and you'll have a good night"
The fucker was grinning. Before I could say anything, Sierra quietly cleared her throat, muttering an 'excuse me' before leaving the room.
"Goddamnit, Hagan" I growled and followed her, the noise returning to my ears like bombs striking the ground. Everything was going so well, so well. I was gonna kill Hagan. "Sierra… Sierra, wait!"
Sierra was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, but she wasn't turning around. This was the moment to show her I didn't give a shit about the rest of these cocksuckers. I was gonna do it. I was gonna take her hand in mine and get us the fuck out of here. I was gonna tell her I loved her and apologize for leaving her to walk home alone, get down on my goddamn knees if I had to. But as I grew closer, I saw the guy who was throwing his BMW keys onto the wrestling pair of tenth graders. He was your typical jock, a taller and more muscular version of Jason Carver, if you were to ask me, and he had the kind of smirk on his lips that made me want to punch him. Hypocritical of me? Sure, whatever the fuck you say. But, no, this guy instantly made me bristle.
"Oh, sorry, dude. Come on, Sierra" the jock said, his hand snaking its way around Sierra's waist to move her. Wait, what the fuck? Who was this guy? Sierra moved away from him with a scoff, her brow furrowed. Oh, now I was pissed. The way she moved away from him told me everything I needed to know about the guy. More importantly, the way Sierra reacted in disgust made me not want to know anything more. He wasn't gonna do that again to her. "Babe, you gotta let the guy through"
What the fuck did he just call her?
Something uncomfortable shifted in the depths of my stomach, churning away like the wrath of a seastorm. Sierra glanced up at me, stumbling backwards slightly as she made her way to join me on the bottom step. Was she seeing someone else whilst I was away? Suspicion seethed away at me, despite me having full knowledge I was doing nothing but deceiving myself. The guy was well-built, slightly older, good looking. Who the fuck was he calling babe? It was a pang that wasn't going away, singing my skin whenever I heard it ringing inside my head. Babe.
I stroked the small of Sierra's back. She was glowering at the guy. Nothing to be threatened by here, but the guy had something smug about him that put me on edge. Who was he?
"Let's go, Billy" Sierra said, taking my hand.
Good thing she did, I was gonna knock this guy out if we didn't leave right now. I was trying to be a good person, trying not to get into any trouble or fights. But, if I needed to protect my girl, I wasn't going to go down without one. Shit, was she even my girl? Why did he call her babe?
"Hey, Austin!" Tommy called, rushing down the stairs and throwing himself onto the guy with an animated, slightly animalistic, grunt. They bashed their heads together, roaring as they shook each other side to side. Fucking jocks… "Billy, this is Austin. Hargrove is our Keg King around here. Sierra, well, I don't need to introduce you. I'd say you're pretty well acquainted already"
So, this was Austin fucking Huxley. The guy before me. Austin, red from all this bromance, let out a snort of laughter at Hagan's comment, and lazily extended his hand at me. I didn't just shake his hand - I possessed it. I gave him a firm squeeze. It wasn't like the squeeze I gave Sierra. There was nothing kind about this. No, I was letting this bastard know his place. My eyes pierced into his, scalding the blue in them to the point where he found a distraction in Hagan and looked away. I released his hand. I didn't like this guy. Not when he'd taken advantage of Sierra in the past, and definitely not when he'd put his hands around her like he owned her. I wasn't saying anything. No, I was biding my time until the clock struck again, resounding in the tunnels of my brain. Waiting, watching, for him to make a fatal move if he dared.
"Don't worry about Hargrove, he's just pussywhipped" Hagan wafted his hand.
Who the fuck was he dismissing here? I was not being dismissed by the likes of him. I snorted and rolled my eyes. The dick wasn't worth my time. Besides, no matter how much I wanted to drive my fist through Hagan's smug face, I was changing. I was bettering myself. I could do this. Jesus, I really wanted to knock his lights out.
"Come on, Sierra" I said, my voice low.
Next thing, we're outside and the summer breeze does nothing to cool me down. Bumps forming on my skin serve as the only reminder we're outdoors now. Everything else inside me is trapped in a skin-covered sauna. So many different feelings were whirring around, colliding with each other in a bid to reach my head and tell me how to feel.
Rage. Frustration. Resentment. Fear. Anxiety.
But there was still a glimmer of hope. Sierra hadn't let go of my hand. Shit, my hands were so goddamn clammy it was unreal. We were getting out of this place.
"I'm gonna say goodbye to the others" Sierra sighed, running her free hand through her dark curls. "Are you staying?"
"No, I'm coming with you" I squeezed her hand, brushing my thumb against hers.
"You sure? I don't mind - "
Suddenly, I felt every word I'd ever wanted to say come rushing to the surface and before I knew it, they were out in the open. Fuck whoever heard. Fuck 'em. Keg King Hargrove was dead. Dead and buried. He had to be. If I wanted to let her know I was serious about us, about life in general, the both of us had to realize who I was, who I was acting to be, was gone.
"No, I'm not doing it again, Sierra" For a moment, her brows knit together in confusion. But as her eyes met mine, she understood. But I couldn't stop. I'd started it. I squeezed her hand. "I'm not leaving again. I made the worst mistake of my life that night and I haven't stopped hearing me screaming at you since I left and made you walk home in the dark" Fuck, my heart was going to tear at my skin and fall out. Everything became a blur. "I made the worst mistake of my life that night and - "
Word after word wanted to keep barraging out of my mouth. But before they could rush into the open, I felt what I had been longing for this whole time. Her lips against mine. Her love. The taste of summery cider. Warm breath. Lavender. Forgiveness. Her. They all lingered as she found her balance again, slowly placing her feet on the ground. As if we were waking up, our eyes drifted up and tried to make sense of what happened, locking onto each other in hope we'd realize this wasn't a dream. She looked just as starstruck as I did until she took a deep breath, her body finally relaxing as she exhaled. A ball flowed through her throat as she swallowed.
"So, you're coming with me?" she asked, the certainty in her words clear as day.
"I'm coming with you, Nightingale" I replied and squeezed her hand. Tenderly, she squeezed back. The corners of her mouth curled up into a small, almost shy, smile.
"Where should we go?" she asked.
Out of all the places in Hawkins, there was one, sole place I wanted to be with her.
"Let's walk to The Communion" I answered.
And so, hand in hand, no longer apart, we started walking toward the road.
We were going back to the start.
