𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐌 彡 [b. hargrove] [✔]

─ 𝐨𝐧𝐞.

*ೃ༄𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘
𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

1985

Right on the dot, at seven-thirty in the morning, Billy Hargrove's alarm clock let out a shrill ring notifying the young man to get up from his bed and get dressed for a hectic day of lifeguard duty. At first, he smacked the top of the alarm clock with such ferocity that it almost shattered beneath his hand, and then Billy sat up on the mattress but alas, he was there by himself.

No one to spend time with. No one to converse with. No one to ravish with his skills beneath the covers and there was only one girl with whom he wanted to do all that with. But she wasn't here. And Billy wouldn't be seeing her for a while. Unless he made a quick trip to her house before he had to clock in for work. So the lovestruck newly grad had no choice but to stretch his aching limbs and stand up from the mattress in nothing but a pair of boxers hanging low on his hips.

Billy stared out the window of his room which overlooked part of the road and his neighbor's backyard. No action. Nothing at all was happening so early in the morning. But to be fair, nothing ever happened no matter the time of day. The guy rolled his eyes in discontent and once again cursed the town for being too damn slow for his liking. Now he really needed to go visit his beautiful, doting girlfriend before he lost his mind. Magdalena May was Billy's only savior in the whole of Hawkins. She came into his life unannounced and he couldn't have been more grateful for a girl like her.

And as he continued to mull over his morning, Billy decided to sit back down on his bed and take the pack of Marlboros and his ever-trusty lighter that was resting on his nightstand into his hand. Billy stuck a cancer stick between his lips, lighting the end of it, and when the puff of nicotine tickled his lungs the young man instantly got a stroke of genius for where to take his girl on a date. He had found a great spot in the woods. It had a clearing and carefully arranged trees surrounding it. It would be perfect. They could talk—amongst other things—and Magdalena could look at him with those doe eyes and make him forget about his problems.

By the time Billy showed up at the May residence, he was surprised to see his girlfriend awake and already occupied in the front yard. Stepping out of his treasured Camaro, Billy took a few seconds to selfishly admire Magdalena in all her glory. The brunette was in nothing but a pair of bell-bottom jeans covered in bleach splotches, a black halter top that glittered in the sun—the cut of the top going all the way past the valley of her breasts—and a pair of bedazzled platform shoes as if she had just popped out of a discotheque. But along with the mesmerizing appearance of Magdalena came her unusual actions of hauling boxes from her house into the passenger side of her beat-up Pontiac.