#sorry the quirky Midwesterner jumped out in heathers dialogue I have no excuse for myself

[hargrove-mayfields]

Dream Boy Lover

June 12, 1985

The dead heat of Hawkins summer is almost in full swing, but in the damp cement back room at Hawkins Community Pool, it’s freezing.

Waiting out the time before her next turn in the chair is Heather Holloway, laying down on the wooden bench, one leg hanging lazily over the side. She’s got a pair of sweats on over her bathing suit and a throw blanket that was supposed to be on the back of her mother’s expensive couch wrapped around her shoulders.

With her on the same bench is Billy Hargrove, laying on his back like her, their heads touching so that curly pieces of their sprayed hair get tangled together. He’s got his ankles crossed one over the other, wearing his lifeguard hoodie and a pair of boots, but the tips of his nose and fingers are still ice cold. Even out of the sun, lounging around on break, he’s got a pair of aviators propped up on his nose.

They don’t have to be back out in their chairs for another hour or two, something about the manager's nieces coming in and taking over everyone’s shifts, so they’re just killing time.

Heather’s got a gossip magazine that’s a bit too immature for her, the kind aimed at middle schoolers rather than a couple of fresh out of high school adults, and she’s reading out loud anything she finds interesting. Billy’s got a bag of skittles he got from the vending machine on his chest, and occasionally, when he doesn’t have a cigarette hanging from the corner of his lips, he drops a few into his own or Heather's mouths. She’d suggested the skittles, he likes M&Ms better.

After a few minutes of silent page turning, Billy feels himself start drifting off to sleep, it’s too cold and he didn’t sleep last night and he’s bored, but Heather startles him awake with an exclamation of, “Oh! Listen to this.”

She clears her throat and reads in a smug, over enthusiastic voice. “How to tell if your crush likes you back.”

Billy groans, he knows the teasing that’s about to come will be insufferable. Ever since Heather got herself a relationship, she’d been trying to get him to follow suit, and she’d weaseled it out of him with hardly any effort that he’d already been gunning it for someone.

Pretty much every day he had to get at least one reminder that he was a coward and a wimp for not making a move, her obsession with his romantic life just that intense, but he’s usually a good sport about it. Like now, as he listens to her read out of a magazine too lame for even his little sister, not interrupting her once as she reads off the list.

Well, at least until she strays from what is actually printed on its glossy pages. “Number one. Does he or she talk to you everyday?” She waited for barely a second before reprimanding him. “Come on William, I’m expecting answers here.”

Sighing through his nose, he plays along. “Whatever. Sure.”

“Okay. Number two. Does he or she tell you all of his or her deepest secrets?”

“Deepest? Dunno about that.” That answer isn’t good enough for Heather, who waits impatiently for him to give her a better one. “Alright, fine. Yes.”

The smile on her face is almost audible through the excitement in her voice. “Number three. Did he or she give you his or her phone number like, the third time you ever talked to each other?”

“That’s not in the magazine, Hetty.”

“Um, it totally is.” She says it like she means it, but there’s a little hint of humor in her tone almost giving her away.

Because she’s so relentless, Billy admits, “It was the fifth time.”

“Number four.” The pause between her words as she thinks of something to taunt Billy with is enough that he knows something ridiculous is about to come out of her mouth. “Does he take you out to the quarry, a place we all know is the cooler older brother of Lover’s Lake, in the middle of the night ‘just to hang out’?”

“That’s it, I’m cutting you off.” He announces, reaching behind his head and snatching the magazine from her hands, flipping it around so he can read it. “My turn.”

“Oh no.” She says with a giggle.

There’s the sound of laminated pages flipping until, Billy says, “Ooh, this one sounds good.” in a tone matching the one Heather used when she started reading.

“How to know if your relationship is going to last.” He gasps for dramatic effect, and Heather can’t stifle a giggle while she waits for the rest of the question, “Do you call each other a thousand times a day and whisper sweet nothings over the phone?”

Even though he can’t see her face, she rolls her eyes. “Duh.”

“Did you pine helplessly after each other for literally three years just to kiss on the first date?”

“Yeah and it was awesome.” They both laugh at that one, her obviously overdone response enough to break the false seriousness they had going.

It’s also a challenge for Billy to do it again.

“Do you stay over at her house every night just so you can wake up together in domestic bliss? Does she pack your work bag for you every morning like you’ve been married for years, and make you your lunch in a little brown bag and kiss you on the forehead on your way out the door and-“

“Alright, alright. I get it.” Billy’s point having been proved, she takes her magazine back and sets It aside with the rest of her stuff. “You’re just jealous because you won’t shoot your shot with Steve.”

“Am not.” He scoffs, trying not to let the little bit of offense he felt at that show. “Have the situation perfectly under control.”

“Sure. Is that why you spend all of your time sighing wistfully and daydreaming about your one true love?” Her hands are clasped together at her cheek and she lets her voice get higher and dreamier.

“My options are limited.” It’s a lame excuse just to deflect the truth and they both know it.

So she calls him on it, and uncontainable smile accompanying the song-Singh remark. “You didn’t deny it!”

“What?”

“That you’re in love with him!”

“Thought that was obvious. Why the hell else do you think I’m still single?” He motions vaguely to himself. “Just look at me, Hetty. Could have anyone I wanted.”

“Except Steve.” The reminder is mostly meant to be like, a way for her to show him that he should just make his move already because he can have anyone he wants, but, having missed the point entirely, Billy sighs and agrees. “‘Cept Steve.”

“I don’t know though, Rob’s been putting out some feelers, and like, her gaydar is super good.” Her and Robin are probably more involved in this than their idiot best friends by this point, it seemed to be all they ever talked about anymore. “She’ll be able to tell you if he’s on the market.”

“I don’t need a lesbians dating advice, thank you.” Billy chuffs. “Pretty sure I can figure it out on my own.”

“Oh.” In a show of feigned nonchalance, she holds her hands above her face so she can examine her painted nails as she says, “So I guess you already knew that his freshman year, Steve dated Tommy Hagan for an entire month.”

The rest of their skittles were sent scattering all over the stained up concrete floor as Billy sat up quickly, his boots swinging to the floor and blood rushing to his head fast enough to knock him silly. “What?”

“See. You had no idea.” Sitting herself up much more gracefully, Heather turns so she’s facing Billy with her legs crossed. “For months you’ve been moping over your straight dream boy, and he’s been bi the whole time.”

“No way.” Stupidly baffled is the only way to describe the look on Billy’s face.

“Yes way.” She nods smugly. “He said so himself.”

This was something she thought was completely obvious at this point, so she can’t help but say, “Seriously, William, when were you going to open your eyes? Someone who doesn’t like you isn’t going to let you crash at their place and tenderly bandage your wounds.”

“S’not tender.” It’s such a confident comeback, Heather could almost believe it.

Almost, but she’d heard all the stories about how Billy’s dad would rough him up, kick him out with a nasty split in his lip or bruises all over, and he’d drive all helpless to his savior Steve Harrington’s house to get patched up. Not tender her hind end.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter, because I also seem to remember him driving an hour into the city to pick you up when your car broke down, sooo…..” Billy wouldn’t win this one, she had just about a million other courting attempts from poor Steve on stand by.

“It wasn’t like that, H.” His gaze fixes to the floor, to a green skittle melting over in the corner, as he mumbles, “We’re not even friends.”

“What about when he saved you a seat on the basketball bus?” The nerve of him to come running back to her with all of his romantic troubles and woes, and still deflect like this. She almost couldn’t bear it. “Or literally like, a week ago when he hand delivered a bunch of super thoughtful birthday gifts to you?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” His hands are thrown up in exasperation, though Heather would argue he doesn’t have the right be upset when he’s the one doing all this to himself. “He’s just too nice for his own good.”

“Please lord give me the strength to deal with this boy.” She turns her eyes to the wooden ceiling, joining her hands together in a false prayer. Sighing through her nose, she turns her attention back to Billy, who’s trying to hide his smugness with how frustrated he’s making her. “William. I know you think you screwed that friendship over forever, but I promise you, if Steve didn’t forgive you, he wouldn’t let you in his house, let alone do all this other stuff for you.”

“Dunno Het, kind of hard to forgive someone who doesn’t apologize.” She could ring his neck for how casually he says it.

“What! You mean you didn’t say you were sorry yet?” Rolling up the discarded magazine, she smacks him on the back of the head with it. “William that was like, seven months ago!”

The strain in his voice tells her they’re on the same level of annoyance. “What am I supposed to do! Tell him I’m sorry I almost killed him with my bare hands, and he’ll just forget about me being an evil bastard so we can live happily ever after like you and Robin?”

She hits him again. “One, you are over exaggerating by a long shot buster, and two, you need to quit projecting your crap onto that boy before someone else comes along and swoops him up.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means that you’re an idiot William Hargrove.” Another whack with the magazine as she tries to explain the situation, something that makes perfect sense to someone who isn’t emotionally constipated, to Billy who is, well, extremely emotionally constipated. “Steve is trying to move on. He flirts with you like, every day and he was willing to be civil without an apology. That doesn’t mean you ‘aren’t even friends’”

“It means that you,” Her cherry red fingernail presses into the material of his hoodie, “you are the one that needs to forgive yourself.”

“You think so?” There’s a sort of disbelief in his voice, but it’s not like he’s doubting himself so much as he’s mocking Heather for thinking it’s so easy.

And that, well, she’s used to it. They’ve been friends since early December, so she didn’t let him being a big jerk put her off after so long dealing with him acting like this. “Yes I do, as a matter of fact.”

“Think you’re giving me too much credit then, sweetheart.”

“You are so difficult.” She felt like a tired mother scolding a child. “Now you listen up and you listen tight. I don’t want this self-deprecating garbage keeping you from what you deserve, you hear me? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I’m telling you, you have got to take it.”

“Steve does not care one little bit what you think of yourself. He likes the real you. Not who you think you should be, not who you think he deserves. He wants you.” Maybe she’s being dramatic, who knows, but Billy keeping his mouth shut means she’s probably on the right track. “And I guarantee you, you will never forgive yourself if you let that boy go.”

Sure, she’s up on her high horse there, talking down to Billy like he’s completely incompetent, but she’s been in the same boat. From experience she knew Billy’s heart would never recover if he lost Steve to someone else. It was in part for her sake so she wouldn’t have to hear about it, but mostly for her best friend, who already had so much other stuff on his plate to deal with that she wanted to make sure that didn’t happen.

“Don’t be so dramatic Het.” Is what he comes up with, but he’s biting the corner of his nail, something he only does when he’s thinking hard about something. It doesn’t take very long for him to break. “Promise you’re not just hyping me up?”

“You know me better than that. I don’t have a dishonest bone in my body.” With her hand on her heart she promises, “I wouldn’t say any of that stuff if I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He waves her off, but he looks sort of queasy, won’t hold eye contact with her for more than a second. “I’ll think about it.”

“You better.” Leaning over across the bench Heather wraps him in the best hug she can in the awkward position. “You know you’re my best friend in the whole wide world, right?” He lets out a breathy laugh against her hair, “I know, I know.”

It’s for Billy’s sake that she lets him drop it. Were it up to her entirely, she’d want him to make his decision now, she’s tired of watching him be too scared to make decisions for himself, but really, they’ve been at it for half a year, what’s a few more days to get the ball rolling?

So she listens with her full attention, keeping her arm around his waist to never fully break off the hug, as he shifts the conversation to more casual topics, like his failed attempts at trying to teach his little sister how to drive, how his new tattoo is taking way too long to heal, and how he’s triple booked for swim lessons tomorrow morning.

When after so long Adams' voice cuts over the speakers calling for the next ten minute pool check, their break is officially over.

The manager pops his head in to tell them they need one of them to switch out, and Billy, after sitting in one place for so long, stands up and stretches his limbs before he offers himself up, “You stay here in the cool, princess. I’ll keep watch over your loyal subjects.”

It’s obvious he just wants some time to himself, so, where she normally would’ve come back with something silly about how the pool goers respected his abs more than his authority, she instead gives him something to think about during his solitude.

She waits until he’s kicking his boots off and shoving them under the bench to say, “You know, maybe it’s fate that the both of you, absolute hunks that you are, have stayed single this whole summer. You’re probably like, destined to be together.”

“Keep dreaming Holloway.” He says, snatching up his whistle and his smokes from the pile with the rest of his stuff.

All smugly nonchalant she replies, “I’m leaving that up to you, lover boy.”

Billy just laughs as the metal door swings shut behind him, but he admittedly goes on to do exactly that, dreaming of his pretty boy up in the lifeguard chair.

Realizing it might be a hazard to public safety to ignore his responsibilities to drool over Steve Harrington while he’s on duty, he blows his whistle at a kid holding another one under the water, and tries to let the noisy pool distract him.

Heather’s right, this is getting to be ridiculous.

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