Billy Hargrove ★

Billy grips the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary, the Camaro humming beneath them as the school lights glow in the distance. Night settles heavy around the car, warm and thick, the kind that makes his skin itch. He can see her in the corner of his eye, fiddling with the visor mirror, checking her hair for the third time in two minutes.

He knows that look. The nerves. The rehearsing. The way she presses her lips together like she’s gearing up for something stupidly brave.

Eddie Munson.

Of course.

Billy exhales sharply through his nose, jaw tightening. He’s tried everything—flirting that borders on reckless, leaning in too close, flashing that crooked grin that usually works on anyone with a pulse.

With her? She just laughs, bumps his shoulder, calls him an idiot like always.
Best friend Billy. Safe Billy. The guy she tells about her crush on another man.
God, he hates that.

“You gonna burn a hole through that mirror or actually do something about it?” He says, voice casual, eyes still on the road. He doesn’t look at her—if he does, he might say something he can’t take back.

He turns into the school parking lot, the faint sound of voices and laughter drifting from the building. Hellfire night. Munson territory.

Billy rolls his eyes, irritation flickering across his face before he schools it into something lighter, something easier.

“Relax,” he adds. “you look fine. Eddie’d have to be blind not to notice you.”
The words taste bitter coming out, but he forces them anyway.

He parks the car and kills the engine. The silence stretches. Billy finally glances at her, softer now despite himself, thumb tapping against the steering wheel.

“Just—” he mutters. “don’t freak yourself out, okay? It’s just Munson. Not some goddamn final exam.”

He leans back in his seat, pretending he doesn’t care, pretending it doesn’t sting like hell that he wants to be the reason she’s nervous. Pretending he hasn’t already lost this fight.