feel

9

THE PARTY rang loud in Billy's ears, screams of his name echoing along with the beats of the music. After claiming the title of keg king it seemed no one was willing to leave him alone, and the alcohol buzzing in his blood didn't help the nauseous social atmosphere threatening to close in on him.

He stumbled slightly as he forcefully pushed himself through crowds of people dressed in miscellaneous costumes dancing the best they could. He couldn't help but think that whoever called Hawkins a shit hole obviously hadn't met anyone from it.

Hawkins was bad, but the people were worse.

Maybe it was this thought that suffocated him enough to draw him over to the punch bowl. It reeked of teenage body odor and of a blend of alcohol so toxic Hawkins Lab could've created it.

It was precisely for that reason that he dipped a cup into the bowl and began to guzzle it down, needing the aid of burning alcohol to quell the reminder of his new city.

Someone clapped a hand on his back and congratulated him. Someone else grazed a hand across his ass. Neither was a particular foreign feeling to Billy.

But this time the physical contact seared across his body and he felt remarkably uncomfortable. Something inside of him needed space.

The alcohol began to burn in his gut like gasoline as he found his way to the stairs. He knew that for however many people were upstairs there were only half as downstairs, and this thought alone propelled him up the steps and down the hallway.

Here, the music thumped like a heartbeat beneath his feet, the noises of dancing and yelling and throwing up accompanying every rest in the score.

He could feel the chill of the night air spilling from the door at the end of the hallway and he welcomed the feeling of goosebumps breaking out across his arms. His feet stumbled into the room, pulling the door open fully.

He ignored the couple making out on the bed and bee-lined towards the open window he'd been drawn towards.

The curtains billowed out behind him as he stepped onto the roof, reveling in the addicting feeling of cool air chilling his burning skin. It was only then that he smelled the tart taste of cigarettes and turned towards the smell.

The smoke was seeping from a figure ten feet away, knees drawn up to their chest and arms hugged around their legs.

Her head was thrown back as she watched the smoke curl from her mouth and stretch upwards into the darkness. The light emitting from the window behind Billy caught on smooth skin and dark hair and denim.

He knew that denim.

Maybe it was the alcohol - it was definitely the alcohol - but Billy felt for a moment like he was watching an angel. At least, something otherworldly, captured in moonlight and the dying curl of smoke. He held his breath, paused at the edge of the window frame, as though terrified of making his presence known. But it was too late.

"They're beautiful, aren't they."

The soft whisper snapped Billy out from his gaze and he pulled himself fully onto the roof.

"What are?" He asked, hating how loud and gruff his voice sounded in a moment that felt so soft.

He carefully lowered himself down beside the girl, who had yet to turn to look a him.

"The stars."

Billy's gaze left the side of Carter's face and instead searched the sky. He couldn't make out any stars, which lay covered in a layer of cloudy pollution.

"I don't see any."

He felt Carter shrug beside him.

"Yeah. But they're still there."

She took a quiet drag from her cigarette before offering it to Billy. He took it, reveling in the feeling of the heat curling into his lungs to offer solace against the cold air and cold skin brushing gently against him.

Carter finally turned to look at him, and his gaze met hers.

"I heard you beat Steve's keg stand record," she smiled.

A smirk lit up Billy's face as she turned her body towards his, chin now tucked in her knees.

He nodded.

"Impressive," Carter took the cigarette back from his hand and took a drag, slowly blowing the smoke from between her lips and watching the cigarette as she rolled it between two fingers.

"You beat mine?"

Billy's smirk dropped and his eyebrow raised.

"Forty-four."

A low whistle blew from Billy's lips.

"Shit, duchess."

Carter smiled down at the cigarette.

"So who are you supposed to be?" Billy asked, gesturing to her lack of a costume as she handed the cigarette back to him.

Carter shrugged.

"I don't dress up."

Billy watched her from his peripheral before pressing the butt of the cigarette into the roof and grinding it down on the shingles.

"No, me neither."

A laugh rang suddenly from Carter's lips and he turned in surprise so his whole body faced her.

"No. You seem to dress down," she gestured to his bare chest.

A smile pulled at the corner of Billy's mouth and this time he didn't suppress it. After a heartbeat of watching each other, Billy broke the silence.

"You know - I'm surprised you're here."

Carter chuckled and dropped her head low.

"What are you talking about? I'm obviously the life of the party."

Billy scoffed in amusement.

"Obviously."

And then he was back to looking at her in the moonlight.

Carter could feel his eyes on her and smirked up at the stars.

"Like what you're lookin' at, Hargrove?" She quipped, eyes not wavering.

Billy snorted.

"What would you do if I said I did?" He asked with a wink she didn't see.

Why was it that she never saw his winks? They were one of the things Billy always used to get girls into his bed.

Carter's eyes twinkled at his in the moonlight.

"Come with me."

And then she was standing, stepping over Billy and pulling herself through the window frame.

Something compelled him to follow her. The same, invisible attraction that made him follow her the first night. The same tug just under his sternum that gave her his jacket.

The feeling that connected to his heart like a string and pulled him back in through the window.

He could see her figure outlined in the hallway. The sparkle in her eyes, the lopsided smile. The crossed arms, guarded against the warmth as it threatened the boarder of the denim jacket that looked worlds better on her than it ever did on him.

"Cute undies, Hansen!" He heard her call towards one of the teenagers making out on the bed.

And then that force pulled at the corner of his lips and at his feet as he followed her down and into the fray of bodies as they danced and drank.