The late afternoon sun beat down on the quiet Hawkins street, turning the pavement gold beneath the tires of parked cars. Music blasted from the open windows of the Hargrove house while a couple of Billy’s friends crowded around the porch railings with beers in their hands, laughing too loud about something Billy barely cared about.

Billy leaned back against the porch post, cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers while he watched the new neighbors move boxes into the house next door. He’d noticed them earlier that morning — the parents looked normal enough, but the girl? She caught his attention immediately.

Pretty in a dangerous kind of way.

And apparently fearless.

Across the lawn, her little brother chased a ball through the yard, completely unaware of the idiots sitting ten feet away from him.

One of Billy’s friends snorted, crushing an empty beer can in one hand. “Beer can!”

Before Billy could even react, the guy tossed it across the yard.

The can smacked the kid right on the top of the head.

The little boy yelped, stumbling backward in surprise.

Billy straightened instantly. “Jesus Christ—”

But before anyone could say anything else, the front door of the neighboring house opened.

And out walked the girl.

Not storming.

Not yelling.

Smiling.

That was somehow worse.

Billy watched her cross the lawn with a calmness that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. She stopped in front of the porch, hands folded behind her back like she was introducing herself at church.

“Hi! We haven’t officially met yet. I’m the girl next door. I’m the one who let you use my garage when it was raining.”

Billy blinked once.

Which was true.

A few nights ago, Neil had locked the garage before Billy could finish working on his Camaro. Rain had started pouring, and she’d quietly opened her own garage across the street and told him he could work in there instead.

And yeah… the massive blue nose pitbull sitting beside the toolbox had scared him a little.

“Hope the dog didn’t scare you too bad.”

Billy cleared his throat. “A little.”

“Good.”

The smile on her face never changed.

Billy’s friends had gone dead silent behind him.

“Listen, now I know on the outside I look like a real sweetie sweetheart but trust me on the inside I’m 100 percent bitch. I even have a tshirt that says it. Got it as a birthday present.”

One of the guys awkwardly laughed.

Nobody else did.

“Anyway, here’s the thing,” she continued casually, “my doctors got me taking these happy pills to control my anger. But since you just use my baby brother’s head as a backboard for your little trash can basketball game, imma stop taking them and come back in three days when the happy wears off.”

Billy stared at her.

She was terrifying.

Then her eyes drifted toward the driveway.

“Oh wow, nice car. 1979 Chevrolet Camaro Z28 right?”

Billy frowned slightly. “Yeah…”

“Anywho, when these pills wear off, I don’t know exactly what’s gonna happen.”

She bent down, picking up an unopened beer can from beside the porch steps and weighing it thoughtfully in her hand.

“But I imagine it will involve the beer can breaking out your teeth, your mother screaming telling me to stop kicking you and your siblings crying after they see what I done to your face.”

Nobody moved.

Billy’s friend looked like he might actually throw up.

“Heck,” she added brightly, “I might even rip off one of your ears and make it into a little coin purse.”

Billy slowly pulled the cigarette from his mouth, completely speechless for once in his life.

“Okay then,” she said with a cheerful nod. “So I’ll be back in three days for your ass kicking.”

Then she turned around like she hadn’t just threatened murder on a sunny suburban lawn, walked back across the yard, scooped up her little brother, and disappeared into the house.

Silence.

One of Billy’s friends swallowed hard. “Dude…”

Billy kept staring at the neighboring house.

Then, quietly

“…I think I like her.”