Maybe it was the Indiana summer heat or the asphyxiating yet addicting smell of nicotine and tobacco that lingered on his skin. Either way, you weren't fully sure how you'd ended up here, physically at least.

It started with heavy glances from his lifeguard tower by the Hawkin's public pool. He'd look back at you after passing the lounge chair where you sunbathed in your bikinis, ones that only grew skimpier the more you came by the pool. You'd lift your eyes off your book, your Walkman blasting in your ears as you lay eyes on the work of art that was Billy. He looked like a physical manifestation of some AC/DC song, so who could blame you for wanting him as you did? No one, not even the moms of Hawkins.

But what was, at first, looks, blistered under the summer sun into kisses after hours in the men's locker room and shared cigarettes against his Camaro. It was often that you spent all day there this summer, baking in the June heat until the sun set, pool-goers cleared out, and Billy would emerge from the locker room after his shift. He counted on you being there with that smile, your sundress or jean shorts on over your bikini. It was just you for this summer, somehow, and for you, it was just him, unsurprisingly.

At 3 pm, he slipped you a paper, on which was written: "Poolside, 8 pm." Not even a question. He didn't have to ask at this point - the arrogant bastard knew you wouldn't say no. Especially not when you started a summer job last week, only getting to come by the pool a few times a week; though, truth be told, besides work, you didn't have much to do the summer after you'd graduated high school.

The sun melted down the horizon as the white sun shone above you. Your skirt was hiked up your legs while your feet and calves were submerged in the warm pool water. You looked up at the sound of the locker room door opening and closing. Billy. You talked, he smoked, and flirted. But Jesus, you were easy for him, too easy. Easy enough to land yourself where you stood, or well, floated now.

"Skinny Dipping," he said. You'd blushed and said no. Of course, you said no, you'd never gone further than kissing the man, but he never took no for an answer with matters like this. He stood up and started undressing. He was just lucky the place was absolutely deserted, no passers-by, and no boss keeping track of his location, not this late. But he got in, his clouded gaze on you while his body submerged in the chlorine-filled water.

You were nothing short of speechless, but still self-respecting, and, sure, a baby. You kept your matching bra and underwear on and jumped in the pool.

You floated up, wiping water off your face as he gave you that signature smile.

"What, is that all?" He spoke as the pool lights and the moon illuminated your faces, the hot night air deluding your every thought.