Chapter Text
It’s a sunny day in San Diego and Billy’s feeling good. Forgoes the numerous cassettes in his car for the radio, thumbs through the channels until he hears Bill Wither’s Lovely Day billowing through the Camaro’s speakers. He’s on his way to work. The grocery store is ten minutes from the Hargrove residence. He got an early start, got to hit some waves and did some shit he’s pretty proud of. His fingers twirl the volume dial up. He hits a red light and fumbles with his pack of Red’s, plucks one out and brings it to his lips. Lights it with a flick of his Zippo and turns his head to catch a red convertible, full of bleach blonde honey’s in swimsuits. They giggle and wave, squealing as Billy revvs his engine. Chuck Taylor on the brake pedal and the other on the accelerator, waves his fingers at the blondes and as the light turns green, he punches it. Life is good.
He clicks the turn signal, switching lanes before he turns into the grocery parking lot. Parks as far as he can from the entrance and uses up the rest of the free time he has, blasting his radio and finishing up his cigarette. There’s a view of the ocean from here, no doubt where the girls in the convertible were headed. Same beach he spent the morning.
Once Billy’s finished his smoke, he takes the walk from the edge of the parking lot to the Albertson’s entrance. Waves to Mrs. Jones, as she's walking out, makes a cheeky comment about how he’s bummed to have missed her and doesn’t miss the way she blushes. He’s the favorite bagboy around here. If not for his looks, then for his skill and diligence. But if Billy can find a way to compete, he’ll take it. If there was a competitive sport for bagging groceries, he’d surely have the first place trophy.
He makes it to the lockers, circles the dial for his lock and pops it open. Retrieves his apron and slides it on, ties it around his waist and reaches for his name tag next, slides the sharp point of the safety pin into his white button up and closes it up. Pops a piece of gum between his teeth before closing up his locker, nods to a coworker as he grabs his time card and slips it into the time clock. Two minutes early.
“How ya doing, Billy?” his coworker greets before grabbing his own time card and clocks out for break.
“Living the dream,” Billy chides, easy and all smiles.
He checks the clipboard to see where he’s stationed first and then makes his way to the check stands. Salutes the cashier as he takes his post at the bagging area. First customer of the day is an absolute babe. Soft, styled blonde hair and blue eyes. Wears a sundress and clings onto the strap of her purse with manicured nails. Red. Billy’s favorite color. He winks at her as he says hello as he smacks his gum.
“Hi,” she replies, cheeks pink and it might be powder blush but Billy would like to think it’s from him.
“How’s your day going?” he inquires, reaching for the groceries rotating his way. Even with the distraction of the gorgeous blonde, he bags with precision. Canned corn with canned soup, double bagged and placed in the cart.
The blonde purses her lips, glances behind her and then turns to Billy, “It’s fine. How’s yours?”
“Can’t complain, got to catch some killer waves before work,” he replies easily and then a familiar face appears behind the blonde. Makes Billy’s face fall.
Susan. His dad’s new girlfriend. She looks at him surprised and then smiles, “Billy! I forgot you work here.”
“Uh, yeah,” he chuckles, shaking his head ‘cause he doesn’t buy it. He heard she lives on the opposite side of town. No reason to do grocery shopping here. “Hey, Susan.”
“So, you’ve met my daughter,” Susan smiles, motioning to the blonde. Fuck. He was flirting with his dad’s girlfriend’s daughter. Gross. Why would Neil date someone with such a hot daughter? That’s like, totally unfair.
“Not officially. I’m Billy,” he offers.
“Pamela,” the girl replies curtly, glancing down at her feet as another, younger girl bounces up beside them. This one looks a lot more like Susan.
“And this is my youngest, Maxine,” Susan introduces the middle schooler.
The younger redhead scowls, turns her nose up at her mother and then looks to Billy, “It’s Max.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Billy plasters on the fakest smile. The few times he’s met Susan, he hasn’t liked her. Doesn’t buy the facade she puts on.
“You, too,” Pamela mumbles and Max looks disinterested.
Billy doesn’t miss a beat bagging their groceries, but he does notice that when he grabs the box of tampons, Pamela’s eyes widen and her face gets redder. It makes him smirk, but he feels like he really shouldn’t be finding his dad’s girlfriend’s daughter so cute.
“Well, we’re heading to your house. You were supposed to meet my girls at dinner but it looks like we got a jump on that,” Susan says, voice all cheery.
“Yep,” Billy smiles again, still forced. This kind of put a real damper on his mood. Seeing Susan does that but knowing her daughter is such a smoke show and so off limits really drives it home.
He doesn’t say much else, keeps bagging the dinner he’s doomed to eat. It’s unlike Billy and the cashier notices and gives him a look. He’s typically a chatterbox. Charming his way through the whole process. Susan pays, and Billy notices she used food stamps. He doesn’t express any judgment but his dad talks real negatively about single mothers who take advantage of the government. Billy has to wonder if he knows he’s sleeping with one.
“We’ll see you at dinner, Billy,” Susan grins, behind Pamela who pushes the cart.
He meets her eyes, tries to read them as he says bye. She averts hers and Billy has to wonder if she’s just as attracted to him.
—
He’s been dreading the dinner his whole shift. Even considers skipping it all together. Sits in the Camaro for a good twenty minutes before he even starts it up. He’s pretty sure there’s a bonfire at the beach but Neil would kill him. And also, there’s a big part of him that wants to see Pamela again. Even if she’s off limits, he can still look, can’t he?
The drive home is too quick and Susan’s dumb station wagon is in his place in the driveway. He sits outside and has a cigarette, listening to the radio as he just watches the door. Half expects Neil to come out and yell at him, or worse, Susan. It doesn’t happen. Of course his dads gonna put on a front for these women. Which buys him something. But the second they leave, that’s another story. And Billy’s gone a month without a black eye, he’d really like to keep that going so he turns off the Camaro. Tosses his cigarette and trudges his way up to the house. Upon entering, Max is sat on the couch, looking bored to hell while Neil’s nursing a beer, sat on his recliner as the news bubbles out from the TV.
“Billy. How was work?” Neil asks, absentmindedly. He’s not really paying attention, doesn’t really care. His eyes focused on President Reagan, talking some bullshit on the TV.
“Fine,” he mumbles, closing the door behind him as he reaches down to untie his Converse. Looks at the three pair of shoes discarded by the front door. He slips his off and holds them between his fingers as he trails down the hallway to his bedroom. Tosses them to the floor and closes his door. Leans against the cheap particle board and heaves a sigh. He can’t be in here too long. Neil’ll come looking for him. Tell him he has to mingle.
So he takes the short time he has to change his clothes. Just slips out of his button up and pulls on an old t-shirt. And yeah. He walks over to his mirror, checks how his hair is looking. Sure as hell can’t flirt with the pretty blonde in his house, but who says he can’t look good for her anyways. A spray of Aquanet can’t hurt and shit, he smells like work so a few sprays of his cologne ain’t gonna kill anyone.
Looking in the mirror, he catches his cat on his bed. Locked in here because Susan insists she’s allergic. He doesn’t believe her because Gloria’s fur is all over this house and Susan never has a reaction. He collapses on his bed and Gloria stands up, stretches all exaggerated and struts her way over to Billy. Cozies up on his lap and nudges her head against his hand. He gets the idea and scratches at the gray fur behind her ears, pouts as he looks at her.
“Wish I could be locked in here with ya,” he mumbles out. Gloria purrs, eyes closing as she nuzzles against his chest.
Then there’s a knock on his door and he huffs, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before he calls out, “Yeah?”
The door opens slowly, his eyes catch her feet first. Simple black kitten heels, tights adorning long legs up to her flowy black skirt and baby pink blouse with a frilly collar. Yeah, this night is gonna suck. Pamela’s hair is tied back in a haphazard bun and he wonders if she’s been in the kitchen, helping Susan.
“Salad is re— you have a cat?!” her plush lips pulling up into an excited smile as she moves in closer.
“Yeah, shut the door,” Billy tells her, “Your mom’s allergic.”
Pamela closes the door and steps closer to the bed, “So she says. We had cats when I was a kid, though. What’s its name?”
She reaches her manicured fingers out for Gloria to sniff. Gloria does, looks up at the girl curiously and then nudges her head against Pamela’s knuckles. She scratches the cat's head, smiling all fondly at her.
“Gloria, or Glo for short,” Billy says.
“Such a pretty girl,” Pamela praises with a pout, voice all babied.
Billy smiles, watching the interaction and ignoring how close Pamela is to him. But he can smell her perfume, citrusy and floral. His instinct to flirt is weighing heavy on him and it’s kind of painful not to. Off limits, he tells himself and clears his throat, “So uh, dinner’s ready?”
Pamela nods, hair bouncing with the movement as she keeps scratching at the cat's neck. “Well, salad is. Meatloafs almost done.”
“Meatloaf, eh? Sounds tasty,” he tries to sound like he means it but Pamela catches it.
She laughs, breezy and a sound Billy wants to hear over and over. “Don’t worry, I did all the heavy lifting. But don’t tell your dad that.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grins, sitting up and picking up Gloria. Pamela turns towards the door and Billy can’t stop his dumb mouth, “You’re really pretty, by the way.”
“Oh,” she turns slightly and her cheeks are redder. “Thanks.” Pamela exits his bedroom and leaves Billy feeling like a creep. The hell is wrong with him? Why the fuck did he say that?
He puts the cat down and walks out behind Pamela, but he doesn’t follow her out into the kitchen yet. Detours to the bathroom so he can splash his face and get a grip. Off limits, he repeats. Fixes his hair some more and decides he’s not gonna talk to Pamela if he can help it.
She’s already sat at the table by the time he gets there and wouldn’t you know it, the only empty spot is right across from her. Awesome. They’ve pulled up an old wooden chair for Max, next to Pamela. Neil and Susan sit at the other ends. There’s a salad plated for him. He sits down and gulps some of the water placed for him while he waits for his dad to start grace, but he doesn’t. And all the girls are already eating. Neil gives him a look, then looks up at the ceiling so Billy does the same. Tells God thanks in his head and starts in on his salad.
Susan talks a lot so it’s easy for Billy to zone out on his food and not look up at the pretty girl across from him. But apparently, this dinner is supposed to be about the teens getting to know each other. Susan says, in her shrill voice, “Billy! You and Pamela are in the same grade. Isn’t that neat?”
“Yeah,” Billy offers a soft grin, doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Max is about to start the eighth grade,” Susan continues and Billy just nods, pretends he’s listening as she keeps rambling. Then she says, “Max skateboards, your dad says you surf, that’s pretty much the same thing, right?”
He scoffs, a smile that’s not at all joyful plays at his lips as he looks at Susan, “I mean, no. Not really, at all.”
Neil shoots him daggers, he can’t see them but he can feel his dads eyes hardened on the side of his face so he offers, quickly, “But I skate, too. Not that often but I’ve got a board. I like surfing more, been doing it longer.”
“I only started this year,” Max mumbles, luckily getting the attention away from Billy.
“That’s cool,” Billy tries, mostly for the sake of his dad. Neil hasn’t dated seriously enough to introduce his girlfriend’s kids before. And really, Susan’s made an effort to get to know Billy, though fruitless. But perhaps he can play nice for the time being. And when Neil and Susan inevitably fizzle out, he can make his move on the daughter. That’s his plan, at least.