An English teacher, Kristal Harrington, is living her life in Hawkins, Indiana away from her abusive ex husband. She faces many challenges during her day on the job at Hawkins High School with one of them being Billy Hargrove.
With Billy working on...
Can anyone say smut chapter? Cause this is one! Please enjoy the hell out of it even though it's complete trash!
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April 24th, 1985
I haven't been able to keep my hands and thoughts away from him. At first I thought all of this was too much but with some time I found out I could care less about the situation at hand. It was only two people falling for each other. I mean, really. What was the harm in that?
It was currently midnight. The official start of a new day. I breathed it all in to know if I was dreaming or not. I obviously wasn't when I looked back to Billy, who was sitting on the floor at the foot of my bed.
His head cocked to the side so it could rest on his shoulder drowsily as his fingers played with the frayed end of the hole in his jeans, in deep thought.
I admired his tanned skin that wasn't covered by a shirt and caramel curls that draped over his shoulders perfectly. I had my book opened in front of me to try and read so I could pass the time, but how could I when I had him in here with me? It was nearly impossible to not stare.
In the background we could hear the soft humming of my radio playing music just so there wasn't the deafening sound of silence between us.
I took a deep breath and realized how perfect this all felt. How we were in my room sitting in a comfortable atmosphere. It was just perfect.
"I really do hate it here." He admitted.
Although he couldn't see my lips forming in a sympathetic way, I reached forwards to take one of his curls in between my fingers to caress it. "I know." I said, trying my best to be as comforting as I could.
"I wanna go back to California. I want my old life back." He sighed heavily. "I want my mom back."
My smile fell at the mention of his mother. What ever happened to her?
I was curious to know everything about him. Even his biological mother seem to keen my interest just at the mention of her.
I continued to pet his curl with the pads of my fingers as I built up the courage to ask: "I hate to ask, but what happened to her?"
Billy half turned his head to give me a glance, but once he saw how focused I was on him he turned his gaze back to his jeans.
"She left when I was nine." He simply stated.
My eyes narrowed but my curiosity still had the better of me. Why would she leave a poor child alone with someone like Neil Hargrove?
