There's something off about Dustin this morning, and it's not just the fact that he's lugging his proton pack around like it's show-and-tell. It's the fact that he was up before me, already dressed for school, dumping his breakfast plate into the sink, by the time I am walking into the kitchen. My brows knit together as I study him closely, watching him try to shuffle past me..
"Morning, Lacy," he calls but he can't quite meet my gaze and I am instantly suspicious.
"You're chipper this morning," I observe, taking out the sandwich supplies from the fridge. Dustin grips the proton pack, trying to look innocent.
"I'm hyper, ate lots of Halloween candy," he shrugs, but his voice sounds off. "I'm going to go, okay?" he adds quickly, sliding the proton pack off the table without another glance at me.
"Wait, what?" I call, following him out of the kitchen and watching him grab his backpack, "You don't want a ride?"
"No," Dustin shakes his head, tucking the proton pack carefully into his backpack, so that the top barely sticks out. "I'm going to ride with Lucas so we can plan our campaign."
I follow him towards the door, stepping in front of him at the last minute to block his path. He glares, matching my stance, sucking in a breath. He looks ridiculous, but I hold back my laughter knowing that he'll be less inclined to talk to me if he doesn't think I'm taking him seriously.
"What are you hiding?" I ask, reaching for the proton pack.
Dustin steps away, defensive. "It's Yurtle," he says, dodging me, "I'm bringing him to AV club."
"Why on earth would he need to bring Yurtle to AV club?" I cross my arms, not buying his excuse.
"Lacy," he groans, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. He pushes me out of the way, shaking his head. "I don't have time to explain the complexities of AV Club to you."
Complexities of AV club? I bite back a retort, watching him warily. Dustin's not usually this secretive, especially about something as mundane as Yurtle.
"Just make sure Yurtle gets there safely," I say, trying to keep my voice even. He's not telling me the whole truth, but I let it go knowing that whatever weirdo nerd activities he gets into with his friends usually finds its way back to me eventually and if something happened to Yurtle, it would just be one last thing for me to worry about.
"I'll see you after AV club?" I ask, and Dustin nods, pushing his bike down the driveway.
As Dustin pushes his bike down the driveway, the proton pack jutting out of his backpack, a nagging feeling tugs at me. I push it aside – I've got enough on my plate today.
I grab my keys and head out the door a little while later, the cold morning air brushing against my skin as I climb into the driver's seat. I place Billy's leather jacket in the passenger seat, inhaling the lingering scent of his cologne. I recall his thoughtful expression last night, the honesty in his words. A flutter of nerves hits me – will anything be different this morning?
By the time I pull into the school parking lot, the usual chaos is in full swing. Students are everywhere, milling around their cars, laughing and shouting to one another as they head inside. I spot Billy's car instantly, being mindful of parking a few spots away, forcing myself not to seem eager or nervous to see him. I take a moment to fix my hair in the rearview mirror, running my fingers through it once, twice, and a third time before I am satisfied with the way it falls over my shoulders.
I fold Billy's jacket over my arm, grab my bags, and head towards Carol and Nicole in their usual spot. My brain screams for me to beeline to my locker, but I approach them as I do every morning.
Nicole smiles when she sees me, nudging Carol with her elbow. Carol barely looks up from her compact, making a point to reapply her already perfect lipstick.
"Where'd you disappear last night?" Nicole greets me, wiggling her eyebrows up and down. "I've heard some rumors that someone in particular took you home."
"Key word is rumor, Nicole." Carol snips, still refusing to look up. She pops her lips a few times, admiring herself.
My irritation bubbles, but I swallow it down, not wanting to give Carol any satisfaction with a harsh reaction. Instead, I shift Billy's jacket from one arm to the other, waiting for her to look up from her compact. "Billy gave me a ride," I say with a casual shrug, watching as Carol's eyes narrow, "it wasn't a big deal"
Nicole grins, unconvinced by my casual tone. "You're my hero," she coos, reaching out to touch the leather. "Tell me everything."
I nod, eager for an excuse to leave Carol behind, but she follows behind us slowly. I feel her gaze burning into my back as I recount the ride home for Nicole, omitting the more intimate details.
"What did I tell you, Lace." Nicole sighs dreamily, "He's so into you."
"Sounds like he was just being nice," Carol says from behind us, her expression still tense.
"Carol," Nicole says, her voice unsure.
"What?" She snaps, eyes finally focusing on me, "Letting Lacy walk home would be like abandoning a puppy in the street. Anyone would have done it."
I pull Billy's jacket closer, refusing to let Carol spoil the memory. I glance at Nicole, and subtly shake my head – it's no use arguing with her.
We round the corner and Nicole inhales sharply, gripping my arm to hold me in place. Billy is leaning against my locker, a bored expression on his face like he's been waiting for me all morning. I take a step back, the need to bolt overwhelming, but Nicole tightens her grip, pushing me forward
Nicole nudges me forward again, her excitement practically vibrating off her. "Go on, Lace," she whispers, barely containing her glee. "You can't keep him waiting."
I swallow hard, feeling the weight of Billy's gaze when he finally sees me. His eyes flicker down to the jacket draped over my arm, and a slow smirk spreads across his face, making my heart race.
"I believe you have something of mine, Henderson." Billy greets, his tone teasing.
I roll my eyes, holding up the jacket between us. "Are you really that desperate to get it back?"
He grins, pushing off the locker. The scent of fresh cologne hits me as he steps closer. "I did like the way you looked in it," he admits, taking the jacket from me. His fingers brush against mine as he does, lingering just a little longer than necessary.
"Don't get used to it," I retort, trying to sound unaffected even though my pulse is racing, "leather's not really my style."
Billy raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Could've fooled me," he says, slinging the jacket over his shoulder with casual ease. "Might be something we need to revisit later."
I blush, opening my locker and exchanging out my books. "Keep dreaming, Hargrove," I sigh, but there's a hint of a smile on my face that I can't quite hide.
He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper, "I think you'd be surprised by what we do in my dreams, Henderson."
My hand freezes mid-reach, my heart skipping a beat at his words. I quickly recover, trying to act unfazed. "Did you really think that line would work on me?" I ask, closing my locker with a slam.
Billy's smirk doesn't falter, but I can see a glint of humor in his eyes. "Come on, it was worth a shot.."
I roll my eyes and turn to walk away, but Billy's right beside me.
"You're giving me whiplash," he teases, easily matching my pace. Before I can protest, he reaches out and takes my books from my hands, his touch confident but not overbearing.
I reach for my books, but Billy holds them just out of reach. "And you're playing games," I say with a shake of my head, "I need those for class."
Billy chuckles, his grin never wavering. "Relax, Henderson. I have my own books. I'm just walking you to class."
"I know the way," I argue, but I am unable to suppress the smile now, weaving through the crowded hallways with him, ignoring the questioning looks from our classmates.
"You have to make everything difficult, don't you?" Billy asks, the curious glances from our classmates either going unnoticed or he is simply unbothered.
Whispers trail behind us like a second shadow. I've never been comfortable with this kind of attention, but Billy thrives on it. He walks with an easy confidence, like he owns the place, not caring what anyone else thinks. I can't help but admire that.
"It's part of my charm," I admit, glancing at him, but I'm slightly curious, wondering if he has an angle for being here. It can't just be for his jacket, but he's also not making as big as a show.
"Is that what you call it?" Bill asks, lifting an unconvinced brow. We round the corner, and I notice the crowd thinning as students begin to slip into their respective classrooms. Billy doesn't seem to be in a hurry to leave, though, and I'm both relieved and slightly anxious about what comes next. He's unpredictable, and that's what keeps me on edge.
"My brother would actually say it's me being annoying and overbearing, but what does he know?" I sigh, stopping in front of my classroom. He chuckles, and the sound is rich, filled with genuine amusement.
"He might have a point," Billy counters, handing me back my books. There's a slight reluctance and I shift them comfortably, shaking my head at him.
"Thanks," I say, my tone sarcastic, "I never would have gotten here without you."
"Anytime, sweetheart," he winks, voice as smooth as ever.
Before I can say anything else, the bell rings, loud and shrill, signaling the start of class. Students rush past us, eager to get inside, but Billy remains rooted to his sport, his gaze lingering on me for just a moment longer.
"See you later," he says, smirking wide, but there's an undercurrent of something deeper.
Billy turns and walks away, blending into the crowd with that same effortless confidence, leaving me standing there with my books pressed to my chest. I take a deep breath, steadying myself before stepping into the classroom
I slip into my seat, hoping to blend in, but feel curious eyes on me. It's subtle – just an occasional glance, a whispered word exchanged behind a cupped hand – but it's enough to set my nerves on edge. I notice how the girls in the row ahead of me keep glancing back, their giggles barely muffled by their hands.
I try to focus on the lesson, but my mind keeps drifting to Billy. Is this real, or just the thrill of something new? And why do I care so much about what everyone else thinks when I'm still figuring it out?
I tap my pencil restlessly on my notebook, lifting a brow curiously at the girls who turn and giggle, but I'm too aware of the way the room feels. One of the girls snickers, quickly looking away, but not before giving me a once-over that makes my skin crawl. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, each beat echoing the doubts swirling in my head, but I hold strong, clinging to my image of perfection. I'm Lacy Henderson, I remind myself, popular, athletic, pretty. Whatever they have to say shouldn't matter – it doesn't matter and I frown, shooting a cool look in their direction.
"Do you need something?" I hiss, leaning forward slightly, trying not to lose my nerve.
The girls exchange weary glances, one of them smiling sheepishly, but their looks between each other tell me I've only added fuel to the fire, and they turn away with one last giggle.
I bite my lip, thinking about all the times that I've had similar conversations with Carol and Nicole. The way we would target girls who looked at Tommy for too long or girls who were dating a boy Nicole wanted. I picture Nancy Wheeler and how we treated her when she first started dating Steve last year, before the fallout between him and us, and swallow. It had been Carol's idea to write that she was a slut across the movie marquee, but I had driven them to buy the spray paint.
This is different though, I remind myself. I'm not dating Billy, I'm not even sure if I can consider him a friend. He's a flirt, and I'm … having fun? But the whispers and the looks are starting to make me question what this "fun" can turn into.
The bell rings, snapping me out of my thoughts. I gather my books carefully, refusing to let any of them know that they've gotten to me. As far as they are concerned, Billy and I are nothing, but a fun rumor, something that will buzz for a day and die out quickly. They don't need to know how my heart races whenever he's too close, the nerves that swirl whenever I catch his gaze from across the room. They can wonder where I stand with Billy right along with me.
The locker room is buzzing with activity by the time I arrive, the girls changing into their gym clothes. I stick to the edge of the room, keeping an eye out for Carol, hoping that she's mellowed out from this morning. If anyone can get the conversations to stop or at least shift to another poor soul it's her. I focus on tying my sneakers, trying to drown out the noise, but it's like a mosquito buzzing in my ear – impossible to ignore.
By the time I make it onto the gym floor, I am less on edge, but instead feel like I'm walking on a tightrope, teetering between what I know and what I want. I spot Carol near the bleachers, and my heart sinks slightly when she doesn't acknowledge me, but I approach her anyway, ready to rip off the bandaid and hope for the best.
"Do you think they're going to make us run the mile?" I ask, taking my spot next to her, feigning normalcy in hopes that she'll just let whatever anger she has go.
Carol raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised that I am taking the initiative to talk to her. She's used to me rolling over, apologizing, trying to make things right even when I didn't do anything wrong.
"You can't be serious, Lace," Carol says, her tone casual, but I can hear the edge underneath.
"About the mile?" I question, still trying to keep my own tone light. "It's been a few weeks, I think it's time for us to do it again."
"Cut the crap, Lace," she snaps, rolling her eyes. "I'm talking about you and Billy Hargrove."
I inhale sharply, trying to keep my tone steady, "We're just talking."
Carol crosses her arms over her chest, clearly not buying it, "From where I stood this morning, you two looked pretty cozy."
Her words make my skin prickle with irritation. "Why does it even matter to you? You're dating Tommy," I snap, surprising even myself with the sharpness in my tone.
Carol huffs, looking at me like I'm the one that's being ridiculous. "I'm just looking out for you," Carol begins, her eyes narrowing across the gym, "Billy's not known for his … stability."
My eyes follow her gaze where Billy is practicing his layups with Tommy. He's oblivious to the tension, cheering loudly when he makes a complicated shot.
"And you," Carol continues, she sighs, patting my knee passively, like she's trying to find the best words, " you're… safe."
I blink, taken aback by her words. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Carol glances at me, her eyes sharp and assessing, like she's trying to figure out how to break the bad news. "It means Billy's wild, Lace. He's all about pushing limits, breaking the rules, and you… well, you're just not that kind of girl. You do what you're supposed to do, when you're supposed to do it."
Anger and doubt churn inside me. "So, I'm too boring and predictable for someone like Billy?"
Carol shrugs, the corners of her mouth curling into a smirk. "I'm just saying, you're sweet. You follow the rules, but Billy gets off on breaking them. I just don't want you to get burned."
The last part is a lie, I can hear it in the way her voice inflicts, almost like she wants to laugh. Carol would love nothing more than to see me embarrass myself, would love nothing more for me to fall flat on my face.
"Billy and I are just talking," I repeat, but I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince.
"It was cute of Nicole to try and set you up," Carol continues, "but I'm just being honest, Chukie would have been a better choice for someone like you."
My cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and frustration, her words stinging more than I am willing to admit. "I don't need you to look out for me," I retort, trying to sound confident even as doubt gnaws at me.
Carol raises an eyebrow, a knowing look in her eyes. "Face it, Lace. He's not the type to change, no matter how good you are."
Her words linger in the air as the coach blows the whistle, signaling the start of PE. I force myself to stand, pushing down the mix of emotions swirling inside me, but Carol's voice keeps echoing in my head.
He's not the type to change, no matter how good you are."
We move out of the gym, but I can't help but glance at Billy as we pass, who's still effortlessly making shot after shot, completely in his element. I remember the flash of his genuine smile last night, the honesty, and I push Carol's word's from my mind. What did she know anyways?
PE passes in a blur, Carol's words still digging under my skin. By the time lunch rolls around, the whispers and looks have lessened, the rumor mill now churning with the news of Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler's breakup. I push through the double doors of the cafeteria, feeling slightly lighter now that I am no longer the center of gossip, I spot Nicole and Carol already sitting at our usual table. Carol's laugh echoes the room, and I see Nicole leaning in to whisper something to Tommy, who's smirking. Billy is there too, leaning back in his chair with the same effortless confidence, but there's a slight furrow in his brow as he glances around, like he's looking for someone.
Taking a deep breath, I approach the table, trying to pretend like everything is normal, like Carol didn't rip into me, like I'm not nervous to be in Billy's presence. As I get closer, Nicole spots me first and gives me a bright smile, but when I glance at Carol, she barely acknowledges my presence, her eyes flicking to me and then away, as if I'm an afterthought.
"Hey," I say, forcing a smile as I slide into the seat between Nicole and Billy. I take a moment to carefully unwrap my sandwich, focusing on my movements, taking the time to smooth out the plastic.
Tommy nods in my direction, his attention quickly returning to whatever he and Billy were discussing. Billy's gaze shifts to me, and for a brief moment, our eyes meet. There's a flicker of something, but he doesn't say anything, instead reaching over to pick at my bag of chips, stealing a few. He winks at me, leaning back in his chair, casually stretching out, and continuing his conversation with Tommy about basketball, without any more acknowledgement.
Carol's cold shoulder says it all. I focus on my sandwich, pretending not to notice.
Nicole shoots me an apologetic look on Carol's behalf. "Did you hear about Steve and Nancy?" she asks, a small attempt to pull me into the conversation. "She apparently broke up with him for Jonathan Byers."
Carol's concern in PE was just a mask; she has another issue with me. Is she threatened by my closeness to Billy or losing control over me? Maybe she senses I'm changing, not needing her approval as much. I glance at Billy, but he's oblivious, focused on my lunch.
"We knew that would happen," Tommy sneers, butting into our conversation, "she was hot for that freak last year."
"Nancy the Slut Wheeler," Carol laughs, referring to the graffiti on the movie theater marquee, and I flinch at the memory, "too bad little Stevie couldn't see that."
Tommy laughs and I inhale sharply when I hear Billy chuckle next to him. "Steve's a pussy," Tommy continues, "he deserves it."
"What's the deal with Harrington?" Billy asks, my apple now in his hands. I swallow my protest at him for taking my lunch, not wanting to draw any attention back to me. Billy notices though and he smirks, placing my apple back in my bag, moving back to finishing my chips.
"Harrington used to run this school," Tommy sighs, resentment lining his voice, "and then he threw it away for some little prude."
Carol laughs and her eyes finally find me. I refuse to look away from her, setting my sandwich down, waiting for whatever loaded comment she has prepared for me. "It's always the ones who think they're above everyone else that fall the hardest, right, Lace?"
Her words hang in the air like a taunt and suddenly I've lost my appetite. She's not talking about Steve and Nancy anymore – she's talking about me and Billy. The implication is there, hidden just beneath the surface, that I'm heading down the same path as Steve, falling for someone who could just as easily discard me. Then what would I have? Something tells me that Carol, Nicole, and Tommy wouldn't be there to cushion my fall – they certainly weren't there for Steve's.
I glance at Nicole, but she looks conflicted, proving my suspicions. She'll never choose me over Carol. I try to smile, but the notion feels forced. I am simmering now, biting my tongue. Billy, still playing it cool, doesn't react outwardly, but there's something in the way his fist tightens around my chip bag that tells me he's finally picking up on the tension.
A surge of resolve wells up inside me as I stand quickly. I don't have to endure this. There's nothing stopping me from walking away from the table.
"Actually," I say, tossing my leftover sandwich into the nearby trash can, "I need to grab something from the library before next period."
"Skipping lunch for a book?" Carol snorts, her tone dismissive. "Of course you are."
Ignoring her, I force a smile at Nicole, even though I'm not really happy with her either. "I'll catch up with you later," I say, trying to sound light, but it comes out strained.
Billy's gaze lingers on me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I wonder if he'll say something, maybe follow me, but he just continues to watch me as I gather my things. There's a flicker of concern in his eyes, but it's fleeting, and he doesn't ask if I'm okay. Maybe it's for the better and suddenly I'm grateful – grateful that he doesn't make this more of a spectacle than it already feels like.
I weave through the crowded cafeteria, my heart pounding in my chest, and head for the quieter refuge of the library. As I leave, I can still feel their eyes on me, and the whispers that had died down during lunch suddenly feel deafening again.
I slip into the library, letting the heavy wooden door close softly behind me. The quiet is a welcome contrast to the chaotic noise of the cafeteria, and I feel the tension in my shoulders begin to ease as I move further into the room. The familiar scent of old books and polished wood surrounds me like a comforting embrace.
I find a quiet corner and drop into a chair, running a hand through my hair. Enough is enough. It's time I start making my own decisions instead of letting everyone else dictate my life. I think back to all the times I let Carol's opinions shape mine, all the moments I stayed quiet. That's not me anymore. I need to talk to Billy – really talk to him – and figure out where we stand.
A/N: After this chapter we are moving into the plot line of season 2, starting with the events of Will the Wise. Thank you for reading and sharing your support!