By: FireBloodandTruth
The sun was beginning its slow descent behind the trees, casting long shadows across the pool deck. The noise of the day was starting to die down, the kids' laughter and splashes growing quieter as families packed up their towels and headed home. Billy stood by the edge of the pool, hands on his hips, watching the last few stragglers kick their way through the water.
He wasn't thinking about the usual nonsense that filled his head when he was here—the moms trying to flirt with him, the kids begging for his attention. Today, his mind was quieter, more focused, and it was all because of her.
She was sitting at one of the empty picnic tables under the shade, her head down as she rummaged through her bag. It had been a few days now of teasing and pushing boundaries, each of them testing the other. She was unlike anyone else around here—someone who didn't flinch at his cocky smirk or bend over backward to get his attention. He could feel her curiosity, though. She hadn't let on much, but there was something about the way she watched him from the corner of her eye when she thought he wasn't looking.
It wasn't just his looks she was interested in. And that both excited and scared the hell out of him.
Billy took a breath, running a hand through his hair, trying to work up the nerve to talk to her. Not the cocky, flirtatious way he'd been doing, but for real. Something inside him was itching for it, even though every instinct told him to keep up the act, to not let anyone get too close.
Before he could change his mind, he started walking toward her, each step feeling heavier than usual. He wasn't even sure what he was going to say. Hell, he barely knew why he was doing it, only that he felt drawn to her in a way that went beyond the usual game.
She looked up as he approached, her face unreadable as always, but her eyes locked onto his with that sharp, almost knowing gaze. It unnerved him a little, the way she seemed to see through everything, straight to the part of him he tried to bury.
"You heading out?" Billy asked, leaning against the edge of the table, his arms crossed casually, though inside he felt anything but.
She shrugged, tossing her bag to the side. "Not in a rush," she replied, her tone easy. "You?"
He shook his head. "Nah, I like hanging around when it's quiet."
That earned him a small smile, just a flicker of one, but it was enough to catch his attention. She wasn't blowing him off like usual. She wasn't making a joke or brushing him aside. She was watching him, waiting, like she knew there was more coming.
Billy sat down on the bench across from her, feeling the wooden slats creak under his weight. For a moment, neither of them said anything. The sounds of the pool, the distant rustle of leaves, the occasional splash from the last kid playing in the deep end—everything faded into the background.
"I used to live in a place like this," Billy said, the words coming out before he could stop them. His voice was low, quieter than usual. "A town nobody cares about. A place where everyone knows your business."
She tilted her head slightly, her curiosity piqued, but she didn't interrupt him. Billy could feel her attention on him, and for once, it didn't feel like pressure. It felt…safe. As safe as he ever allowed himself to feel.
"My old man moved us here to 'start fresh,'" Billy continued, using air quotes with a mocking grin that didn't reach his eyes. "But it's all the same. Different place, same bullshit."
He wasn't sure why he was telling her any of this. It wasn't like him to open up, especially not to someone he barely knew. But there was something about the way she was looking at him that made it easier to talk, easier to let some of the walls down. She wasn't pitying him. She wasn't judging him. She was just…listening.
"California, huh?" she asked, her voice soft but not prying. "That's where you're from?"
Billy nodded, staring down at the table, his fingers tracing the weathered lines in the wood. "Yeah. L.A. We had a place by the beach. Waves every morning. Salt in the air. Felt like…freedom."
She didn't say anything, but her gaze stayed on him, steady and patient.
Billy let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little as he spoke. "I used to surf. Spent hours out there, just me and the water. It was the only place that felt right, you know? Like everything made sense when I was out there."
He caught the shift in her posture, just a slight lean forward, like she was hanging onto his words. For a second, he almost smiled. She didn't need to say anything. He could tell she understood, even if she hadn't been there. It was weirdly comforting.
"Why'd you leave?" she asked, her voice quiet but with just enough weight to it, as if she knew there was more behind it than just a move across the country.
Billy's jaw clenched, and for a second, he thought about brushing it off with some joke, some easy deflection. But then he caught her eyes again, and the usual shield he threw up didn't feel like it belonged between them. Not right now.
"My dad," Billy muttered, his hands curling into fists on the table. "He thought we'd be better off here. Away from all the 'distractions.'" The bitterness in his voice was palpable.
Her eyes softened, and Billy could feel her start to connect the dots, but she didn't push. She didn't ask for more. She just sat there, waiting, giving him the space to say whatever the hell he wanted.
"He's an asshole," Billy added after a beat, his voice lower now. "Always has been. Thought moving here would change things, but..."
Billy's voice trailed off, and for a moment, he couldn't find the words. He felt the weight of the memories pressing down on him—the yelling, the fists, the constant disappointment. It was all still there, like a wound that never really healed.
"Anyway," he said, forcing a smile that felt wrong on his face. "That's my sob story."
She didn't smile back, didn't brush off his words like they were some joke. Instead, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, her eyes never leaving his.
"That's not a sob story," she said quietly, her voice steady. "That's life."
Billy felt something tighten in his chest at her words. She wasn't pitying him. She wasn't judging him. She was just...there. Listening. And somehow, that made it worse and better at the same time.
"Yeah, well," he muttered, looking away, "it's my life."
For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Billy stared at the fading light on the surface of the pool, his mind swirling with thoughts he didn't want to deal with. But there was something different now, something about her presence that made it all a little more bearable.
"You're not like the others here," Billy said suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don't care about the same crap everyone else does."
She gave a small shrug, a faint smile pulling at her lips. "Maybe that's why I'm here. To get away from all that."
Billy raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He wanted to ask more, to dig into what she was running from, but something held him back. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't been this honest with anyone in a long time. Maybe it was the quiet understanding in her eyes that made him feel like she already knew.
Before he could say anything else, she stood up, grabbing her bag from the table and slinging it over her shoulder. She didn't say goodbye or give any long-winded speech. She just gave him one last look, a lingering gaze that felt heavier than words, before walking away, leaving Billy sitting there with more questions than answers.
She gave a small shrug, a faint smile pulling at her lips. "Maybe that's why I'm here. To get away from all that."
Billy watched her for a moment, weighing her words. There was something in the way she said it—casual, but with an undercurrent of something deeper, something she wasn't saying. He recognized it because it was the same tone he used when he didn't want to let someone in all the way. It piqued his interest even more.
"Yeah?" he asked, leaning back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest. "What are you running from?"
She tilted her head, the smile still lingering on her lips, but her eyes flickered with something like recognition. "Who said I was running?"
Billy smirked. "Come on. Nobody comes to a place like Hawkins unless they're running from something."
For a moment, she didn't respond. She just stood there, looking down at him, the faintest trace of amusement in her eyes, as if she knew he wasn't going to let this go. Finally, she sighed, sitting back down across from him, her hands resting on the edge of the table.
"Maybe I just needed a break," she said, her voice quieter now. "From people. From expectations. You ever feel like you're suffocating, no matter where you go?"
Billy's smirk faltered. The way she said it—the weight of it—hit him harder than he expected. She wasn't just talking. She was saying something real, something he understood all too well.
"All the time," he muttered, his voice rougher than he intended.
She looked at him, and for the first time since they'd met, Billy felt like she was really seeing him. Not the cocky facade he usually wore, not the smirk or the bad boy attitude. Just him. And it felt like she got it.
"Is that why you're here?" she asked softly. "To get away from it all?"
Billy stared at her for a long moment, his jaw tight, before he finally nodded. "Yeah. Something like that."
She didn't press him for more. She didn't need to. The silence between them was enough to say what they weren't ready to put into words yet. They were both here for the same reason—trying to escape the weight of the world, trying to find some space to breathe.
For a while, neither of them said anything. The sun continued to dip lower, casting a warm, golden glow over the pool, the sound of the water lapping gently at the sides. The heat of the day was starting to fade, replaced by a softer, more bearable warmth. It was the kind of quiet that Billy didn't usually like—the kind that made him feel too much, too exposed. But right now, it felt…okay. With her, it didn't feel like the usual pressure.
She broke the silence first, her voice still soft, but with a hint of playfulness now. "So, what's next for you, Billy Hargrove? Besides lifeguarding and dodging your fan club?"
Billy snorted, the tension easing from his shoulders as he leaned back. "I don't know. Maybe I'll hit the West Coast again. Go back to surfing, you know?"
She raised an eyebrow. "That what you want?"
He thought about it for a second, staring at the pool's surface, watching the ripples dance under the fading light. Did he want to go back? Did it even matter anymore?
"I don't know," Billy admitted, and it surprised him how honest it sounded. "Haven't thought about what I want in a long time."
She nodded, like she understood that, too. "Yeah. Me neither."
There was something unspoken in the air between them now, something that felt like it could break the surface if either of them pushed just a little more. Billy didn't usually like getting this close to anyone, didn't like letting people see anything beyond what he wanted them to see. But with her, it felt different. It felt like maybe he didn't have to pretend, at least not right now.
"Why'd you really come here?" Billy asked, his voice low, more serious now.
She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes studying his face, as if she were deciding whether or not to let him in. Finally, she sighed, leaning forward slightly, her hands clasping together on the table. There was a flicker of hesitation in her expression, but it was fleeting—just a shadow that passed over her face before she spoke.
"Family stuff," she said, her voice steady but careful. "It's complicated."
Billy didn't push, though something about the way she said it tugged at the back of his mind. Family stuff. He knew what that could mean—knew it could cover a lot of things. But there was something off about the way she'd paused before answering, like she was choosing her words too carefully.
"Yeah," Billy muttered, leaning back and crossing his arms. "It usually is."
She gave him a small, grateful smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. For a moment, it looked like she might say more, but then she glanced down at her hands, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the table.
"Sometimes it's easier just to get away from it all," she added quietly, almost to herself. "Clear your head. Figure out what really matters."
Billy nodded, not wanting to admit how much that hit home for him. He watched her for a few seconds, his mind turning over the little details he'd picked up on since they'd met. She was too smooth with her answers, too practiced in the way she dodged his questions. It reminded him of how he used to be when he first got to Hawkins—never giving too much, never letting anyone get too close.
But what was she hiding?
"I get that," he said, keeping his tone casual. "Sometimes you gotta get some distance to see things clearly."
She didn't respond right away, just nodded, her gaze flickering toward the pool. Billy caught that brief glance, that moment of distraction, and something clicked in his mind. She wasn't just here to get away. She was watching something—someone. Or maybe just waiting.
His gut tightened, the instinct that had kept him sharp in every situation starting to flare up. Billy was good at reading people, and something about her didn't quite add up. But he wasn't about to blow it up yet. He wasn't stupid. There was still too much he didn't know.
"So, what are you hoping to figure out while you're here?" Billy asked, leaning forward a little, lowering his voice like they were sharing some kind of secret.
She blinked, the question catching her off guard for just a second. Her lips twitched into a faint smile, but her eyes were sharper now, more guarded.
"I don't know," she said lightly. "Maybe just…what comes next."
Billy's smirk returned, though it didn't reach his eyes. He watched her carefully, noting the way she deflected, the way she avoided giving him anything real. She was good at it, but he was better. He could feel the layers, the walls she had up. He knew them all too well.
"Yeah?" he asked, keeping his tone easy, almost playful. "And what if there's nothing next? What if this is it?"
She met his gaze, and for a second, he thought he saw something shift in her expression. Something real. But then it was gone, replaced by that calm, controlled demeanor.
"Then I guess I'll have to make something happen," she replied, her voice steady, but with an edge of something sharper underneath. Determination. Purpose.
Billy raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Sounds like you've got a plan."
"Maybe," she said with a shrug, her eyes drifting back to the pool. "Or maybe I'm just waiting to see what happens next."
There it was again—that feeling that she was playing a part, that she wasn't just some girl looking for a break from life. She was here for a reason, and it wasn't just to relax by the pool. But whatever her reason was, she wasn't going to let him in on it. Not yet.
Billy leaned back, crossing his arms again. "Well, Hawkins isn't exactly the place for big plans. Trust me."
She gave him a look, one that was half amusement, half something else. "Maybe. Or maybe it's exactly the place for them."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're a strange one, you know that?"
She didn't reply, just smiled faintly before glancing at her watch. "I should probably get going," she said, standing up and grabbing her bag. "Got some stuff to take care of."
Billy stood up too, watching her carefully. She was good at keeping things close to the chest, but he could tell there was more going on beneath the surface. He wasn't sure what it was yet, but he was going to find out.
"Yeah, sure," he said, his voice casual but his eyes still sharp. "See you around?"
"Yeah," she replied, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I'll be around."
And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving Billy standing by the empty table, watching her disappear into the fading light. His mind was racing, turning over everything she'd said, everything she hadn't said. There was something about her, something he couldn't shake.
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"You asking me out?" Billy asked, his tone playful but with a hint of curiosity beneath it.
She leaned back in her chair, forcing a relaxed smile she didn't quite feel. "Maybe I'm just bored. Or maybe I want to see if you're as interesting off duty as you are in your little lifeguard chair."
Billy chuckled, but she could sense the shift in his mood. He wasn't entirely sure what she was up to, but he was intrigued. That was exactly what she needed.
"All right," he said finally, his voice smooth. "Where and when?"
"Tonight," she replied, glancing at her watch. "There's a place just outside of town—small bar, low-key. Figured it'd be a change of pace."