Billy knew he’d screwed up. You guys were having the first pleasant conversation ever since the two days he’d known you and then he just had to go ruin it with a: ‘wanna go somewhere more private?’ And then a ‘you’re such a fucking tease’ after you’d rejected him just to put a cherry on top.

He was drunk.. you were hot.. and you weren’t yelling at him for once — of course he wanted to take things to the bedroom. He always did. With like, everything that physically could take things to the bedroom.

It wasn’t like he’d been denied before. Everyone in Hawkins wanted him: well, nearly everyone. Apart from you apparently who hated his guts.

Well, that’s what led to him offering you a ride home after seeing you were way too drunk to be walking home alone. It wasn’t half a way to apologise, half an excuse to get more time with you. You were different. Not just because you hated him, he wasn’t one of those guys who ‘wanted a challenge’. But because you didn’t kiss his ass like all the other social climbers. You were a perfect middle ground. You didn’t hate him because he was popular. You didn’t love him because he was popular. You actually formed an opinion based on his personality and how much of an asshole he was and — he respected that.

“Look. I just— I just wanted to say sorry.” Billy sighed, tapping his hand on the steering wheel. “What I said was shitty. I should’ve known you weren’t interested. You made that extremely clear. I was being an ass and thinking with my ego… and my dick. Yeah. Mainly my dick.” He sighed.

He paused for a moment before continuing.

“So are you gonna let me drive you home…? Or are you gonna make e sit here with my engine on until I run out of gas?” He chuckled.