Chapter Text
MAX
Bright sunlight streamed through the window in Max's room, forcing herself awake earlier than she would've preferred.
Her thoughts were strangely blurry and distant but pleasant in their quietness, and as she furthers herself awake, she realizes her clouded mind probably had something to do with the time she'd spent with Billy yesterday.
Should she be worried?
Maybe.
That feeling- unreal in its loveliness- remained ever-evolving at quite an alarming rate. The feeling she gets in her throat and chest when he looks at her, especially when he touches her, was nearing otherworldly in how unfamiliar and intoxicating it was.
There was beginning to be a fundamental shift in her relationship with Billy, enough so that she knew he must've noticed by now. It was undeniable... and terrifying.
Running her hands over her face, she inhales deeply. It's becoming too much, this limbo she's in.
Maybe, she thinks, the best thing to do would be to push her feelings down. Smother the flame within before it grows out of control and engulfs her whole.
But what if it was already out of her control? What if she never had control to begin with?
Not wanting to think of uncomfortable questions she didn't have the answers to, Max decides it's time to get up and out of bed.
Her skin and hair lingered with the sweetly funky smell of weed and sleep, something that motivated her enough to get moving and into the shower.
Standing up, she notes how her ankle doesn't hurt as much. Not only that, but the swelling has also decreased- all of which was quite relieving news for Max. Still, though, she knew skateboarding would remain out of her near future given she had yet to be able to bear total weight on her ankle for more than 30 seconds at a time.
At least her uterus kept from waging war on her body, she thinks, having not experienced any notable cramps since she smoked with Billy.
As she collects an outfit to put on after her shower, she realizes something that makes her stop in her tracks.
She had no fear of what Neil or Susan would do if they found out about her smoking weed. She could manage being grounded- she already couldn't ride her skateboard, so it wasn't like they could do much to her. It's the thought of how Billy might react if she betrayed him that caused anxiety to root deep in her stomach.
She assured herself Neil and Susan wouldn't find out as she briskly walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. After all, this secret was between her and Billy, and while there were few things Billy kept his mouth shut about, she knew this was one thing she could trust him with.
⁂
By the time she's dressed and out of the shower, her hair braided back with a few strands framing her face, it's already 8:30. As she walked from the bathroom, she wonders when Neil and Susan would be home. She thinks she should just ask Billy once he gets up.
In the meantime, though, as her stomach growled with anticipation, she was set on making herself breakfast.
Curious and eager to test the progress of her ankle, she decides against just getting a bowl of cereal and instead tried her hand at making french toast.
As she gathers the necessary ingredients, she ponders whether or not she should make Billy some, ultimately concluding that she should. She figures that'd also probably be the best time to ask when Susan and Neil would be back.
⁂
Cooking went by as smoothly as Max could've hoped for, managing to keep herself from burning anything; toast and skin alike. Almost notoriously, Max usually ended up with a burnt finger or two when working with the stove.
Whilst cooking, she found herself musing on the idea of how the conversation between her and Billy might end up looking. Almost daydreaming, she wonders if the conversation will lead anywhere interesting, if it'll turn any provocative corners. Her wonder morphs to hope as she plates the french toast on two plates, grabbing a few paper towels and a pair of forks before making her way towards Billy's room.
Due to her lacking a free hand because of the plates, Max struggled momentarily as she attentively balanced a plate on her forearm before knocking on his door.
BILLY
Throat aching with dryness, mind blurred by morning drowsiness, Billy stirred from his sleep to the sound of knocking.
Fuck.
He closed his eyes tightly for a moment before wiping away the sleep from them with the heel of his hand. "The fuck do you want at-" He pauses, eyes fluttering open, flicking to the digital clock on his nightstand with a heavy glare "9:03 in the goddamn morning,"
Apparently not needing any more of an invitation inside, Max opened the door with a glare of her own.
"Well, I thought you might want breakfast, asshole." She says, setting a plate that held a few syrup-drizzled slices of french toast on his blanket-covered stomach, then a paper towel and fork. He could feel his pulse quickening beneath is chest, watching as she sat at the foot of his bed.
A frown adorns his features longer than he intended as he blinks rapidly, as though water had been flicked in his face, confusion mixed with morning sleepiness that rendered him momentarily paralyzed.
"I, uh... Why?" He finds himself shaking his head as he sits up, feeling a tad caught off guard but also strangely flustered "I mean, not why , but y'know..."
"No, I don't really know." Max quips, a smile on her lips. It almost looked like she enjoyed seeing him this way, watching with a glint of genuine amusement in her eyes as he searches for his words.
"I um... Yeah, well. Thanks, I guess." His gaze falls to his plate as he reaches for his fork
"Can't tell you the last time I had french toast," He says with a small smile, only for the said smile to falter as he recalls the last time he'd had french toast was, in fact, with his mom, back in California.
Thankfully, Max speaks. "I actually came with a question." She takes a bite of her french toast, and Billy can feel her watching him expectantly.
"Shoot." He says, looking up to meet her gaze.
"What time will Susan and Neil be back?" She looks away, sticking a piece of toast with her fork.
"They said around 9 or 10 tonight. Why? Have somewhere to be?" He asks, attempting to be playful.
Max just rolls her eyes with a shake of her head, a small and ill-contained smile pulling to her lips. He eats as he watches her, wondering if he should approach her with a question of his own.
Wiping his mouth and clearing his throat, Billy further sits up before stretching his arms up to the ceiling, his head falling back as a small groan escapes his throat.
When he slouches back to his original form, he notices Max intently watching him. He feels something prick his soul, something fully unfamiliar slowly beginning to envelop him in a truly and wonderfully weird loveliness. Warmth, like the noon sun kissing exposed skin on a summer's day.
He realizes he's just been staring, so he forces his gaze to fall to the plate on his lap.
"Since you made breakfast n' all... I guess I've seemed to have landed on my own question." He looks up, meeting an exceptionally interested gaze with his own.
His heart thudded like a drum in his chest, his hand beginning to fidget with the fork it held. This could be a mistake. This could be such a fucking big mistake... but before he can stop himself, words come falling from his mouth.
"There's a party tonight and, well, if you don't feel in the mood to be interrogated by your mom about what happened to your ankle, consider yourself..." Carefully, he treaded around how best to form his sentence, "allowed to tag along."
Max's gaze thins as her brows fall to a frown, her head tilting to the side, almost as though she hadn't heard him correctly. "What?"
"I don't repeat myself." He says, going back to eating. Waiting for her reply made him feel as though he'd swallowed a large vitamin without water, chest tight with his harshly pounding heart. Why the fuck was he so... whatever the fuck this is feeling is called. Is there even a name for something like this?
"What time?" She finally asks, and Billy feels himself breathe something alarmingly similar in nature to a breath of relief.
"I guess we should leave around 8 if we wanna miss the arrival of the hurricane." He says, taking another bite. His heart seems to further settle as time passes, but he still felt that strange, nameless feeling linger.
Max goes quiet for a moment, a disoriented-looking frown slowly darkening her features. "I..." She cleared her throat, and Billy feels like he might be sick. The look on her face was more than just unsettling, it was entirely anxiety-inducing.
MAX
Briefly, she questions her sanity, a sharp thought that sliced over her mind. "I don't think I understand. Why are you letting me come with you? Wouldn't I just be a buzz-kill or something?" Her mind buzzed with questions, eyes searching his face for some clue as to what might be going through his mind.
"Why did you make me breakfast?" He asked. He just barely hid the defensiveness in his tone, making Max feel faintly lightheaded, as though her skull had been stuffed full of cotton.
"... Listen," He forced his gaze to the window, watching as gloomy clouds met bright sun. "I honestly don't know why I'm letting you come with. You're probably more trouble than you're worth," He pauses, looking to Max with a smirk " But... it might be fun... Or at least entertaining. For me, that is."
"You're such a dick," Max says, smiling softly to herself. Quiet stillness ringed around the two of them, Billy having not bothered to throw some insult her way. He looked down, licking his bottom lip before raking his teeth over it in a last-ditch effort to keep from smiling.
This was all so much more than Max could've asked for, more than she could've even prepared for. She was happy, truly happy, in a way so foreign it almost made her question if what she felt was true.
Surely, it wasn't normal to get this genuinely happy over being invited to a party with your step-brother, but it wasn't like she could stop it at this point. Whatever it was she felt a couple of days ago just continued morphing, snowballing into something wholly unpredictable.
Having just about finished her breakfast, Max stood from the bed, reaching a hand out to Billy for his plate. "What if Neil finds out?" She asks, and Billy shakes his head.
"He won't. We'll say we went bowling, or whatever the fuck it is kids do around here."
Max scoffs as she takes his plate "And you think he'd believe you?"
"If anything, he'd be happy to come home to an empty house," Billy says before running a hand through his sleep-tousled locks.
Max nods, sighing before beginning to make her way toward the door. There was still so much time to kill, but that's alright. She'll find things to keep her preoccupied.
Opening the door to leave, she pauses in her tracks upon hearing Billy's voice.
"And Max, bring coffee some next time."
⁂
The day went by painstakingly slowly, each hour seeming to drag and drag until they began to blur into one another.
To keep herself busy, she spent some time in the living room watching TV. Then, Max cleaned her room, even though it was hardly dirty to begin with. She organized her comics and, while doing so, did everything in her power to restrain herself from glancing at the clock to keep from being disappointed.
Even with the passing hours, though, one thing that seemed to go without change was the giddy excitement Max felt. The fact she was going to her first-ever high school party with none other than Billy Hargrove himself- it was a wild sentence she couldn't stop running through her head again and again. Though it, of course, left her with more questions than she could ever have answered.
The obvious, most pressing of her questions was a deceivingly simple 'why?'. The half-assed answer Billy had given her only further raised questions she knew he wouldn't (or couldn't) answer.
But that's alright. She could go without answers for now, at least. Not because she wanted to, but because she had to.
When the sun finally began its descent over the treetops, the sky outside her window painted itself in breathtaking vibrant oranges and pinks. Sitting on her bed, she wonders what tonight will look like. She's never really been a huge fan of parties, but from her understanding, never had she before been to a party quite like the one they'd be going to.
Standing from her bed, she finds herself wondering whether or not she should change her outfit. She dressed for comfort in her jeans and forest green sweater, which, after staring at her reflection in her vanity mirror for at least two minutes, she decides is just fine.
Taking a deep breath, she sighs slowly through her nose. Things would work out, they always did.
⁂
By the time 10pm rolled around, Max was stood up against the wall in a house heavy with booze, smoke, bodies, and music. She had a flimsy red cup held tightly in her hand, taking small sips from it here and there as she scanned the room of dancing teens.
Billy had given her the whole "Don't do anything too stupid" speech while the two rode to the party together. He stayed by her side long enough to get through the door, but as soon as they'd passed that threshold, Billy had gone off yelling "I'm grabbing a drink!" before disappearing into the crowd, leaving behind a stranded and slightly annoyed Max.
She didn't know what she'd expected from him, from tonight, but it certainly wasn't this .
Not knowing what else to do, she slowly nursed her shitty-tasting drink as she waited for his return. She waited. And waited. And waited a bit longer, until each passing second that he wasn't in her presence annoyed her. It didn't take forty-five minutes to get a fucking drink.
With annoyance now her motivator, she pushed through the crowd of intoxicated bodies, searching for a familiar head of blond locks.
But she didn't find him.
Fueled now by anger and a pleasantly light buzz- why bother bringing her to a party if he was just going to ditch her?- she marched her way upstairs in search of the bathroom. If she was going to be alone, it'd better be on her terms.
Before she could reach the bathroom, though, across the hallway and through the sliver of an open door, a soft sighing could be heard. She knew she should've turned away, should've just left whatever horny teenagers in there alone, and she was going to-
But then she heard it. One simple word that made her blood run cold.
" Billy !"
Before she could stop herself from doing something she regretted, her fingertips touched the already open door, pushing lightly, just enough for her to peek inside.
Billy was sat on the edge of the bed, jeans around his ankles as a blonde-haired girl, still in her jean jacket, bounced up and down on his straddled lap.
"Oh, Billy, you feel so good!" The girl moaned intended dramatics, bringing her head down so she could greedily kiss him.
"You like that?" Billy murmured against her lips, voice sounding painfully... distant.
"Yes, yes!" The girl slammed down harder on his cock, throwing her head back as she squeezed her eyes closed.
Max knew she should look away, but for the life of her, she could not. She knew it was beyond wrong on so many different levels to watch, she knew it felt like her heart was tearing itself to pieces inside her chest, but she couldn't stop watching, couldn't stop absorbing what was happening. She watched as Billy's thick member disappeared and reappeared under the girl on top of him, glistening in the low-light with slickness.
It was absolutely horrifying... and arousing.
Much to Max's alarm, she was physically torn from her thoughts when a strong hand yanked her from the doorway.
For a split second, she could've sworn she saw Billy look at her, but before she could feel anything, a booming voice chased away the thought by barking into her ears "I fucking knew it! I fucking knew you were up here!"
A boy close to Billy's age stomped into the room before tearing what Max assumed to be his girlfriend from Billy's dick.
The girl fell to the ground, giving Billy just enough time to stand and yank his jeans up before earning himself a swift and powerful punch to the face.
Temporarily stunned, his head rung with pain before a flame was lit within Billy. He shook off the pain with a rapid head shake, mouth forming a sharp, white-toothed grimace. "Oh, you are so fucking dead!" Billy spat, rage consuming his voice.
Standing again in the doorway with her hand to her mouth, Max watched in horror as Billy's fingers intertwined themselves in the boy's hair, swiftly yanking him down so his nose met Billy's knee.
Blood began to flow from the boy's nose as his nails viciously tore at Billy's hands and arms, desperately trying to free himself from his hold.
Not being able to watch this play out any longer, Max finally screams "Billy, STOP!"
And he does stop, just long enough to meet Max's horrified gaze with his rage-fueled one. That gave the boy enough time to push himself away from Billy, stumbling slightly but popping up back on his feet.
He lunges for Billy, fist again meeting the side of his face. This time around though, the ring the boy wore caught the flesh of Billy's cheekbone, leaving behind a bloody gash.
Knowing how much worse things could get if they continued, Max goes against her better judgment as she rushes into the room, hand grabbing hold of Billy's.
"We need to leave," Max says, and when Billy just stares at her, she grabs him by the hand, beginning to yank him towards the door. Much to her surprise, he doesn't put up a fight as he follows behind, stumbling every few steps.
As for the boy and his soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend, smartly, they stayed put.
It wasn't until the two started walking downstairs that Max realized she was still grasping Billy's hand. Immediately, she lets go, and just as immediately, she regrets doing so.
Wordlessly, the pair walked out of the house, down the driveway, and into the street, where they then walked to Billy's car.
This wasn't how things were supposed to happen, Max thinks, semi-bitterly as her heart continues to ruthlessly hammer away within her chest.
When the two get in his car, they sit in silence for a little while before Billy begins driving. What was there to say? Max definitely didn't know.
Eventually, Billy clears his throat before taking in a deep breath. "I uhh... I feel bad." He says, looking at Max. His face was illuminated by the streetlight above, prominently displaying the still-bleeding cut on his cheekbone.
"Yeah?" Max dryly asks, eyes thinning.
"I... didn't want tonight to turn into that ." He says, turning his attention to the steering wheel. "I wanted you to at least have fun."
Max's jaw clenches tightly, biting back words she knew she couldn't unsay, words referring to what she saw in that damn room before the fight. Her chest feels hollow as she remembers the look he gave her just before she was pulled from the doorway.
She knew he saw her.
⁂
Words don't pass between the two of them until they're only five or so minutes away from the house until, finally, Billy speaks.
“I’m sorry.” Billy says, keeping his gaze locked on the road ahead. “I uh... just…” Max looks over at him, searching his face for a hint as to what he may be feeling. “I shouldn't have left you. That was shitty of me,”
Max bites the inside of her lip. She didn’t think Billy knew how to apologize. It leaves her silent for a few moments.
“You need to get that cut cleaned and bandaged.” She speaks softly, though she still feels nauseated from seeing Billy together with that girl. Refusing to believe she had any reaction to seeing him hooking up with some stranger, she blamed her upset stomach on the alcohol.
“Think you can patch me up?” Billy asks, glancing at Max with a smile so sweet it makes her feel sick, but still, she manages to smile back.
“I’ll see what I can do.”