Billy Hargrove

The morning air was cool as students streamed through the gates of Hawkins Middle School. Billy's blue Camaro pulled up to the curb with its usual roar.
"Move it, Max," he said flatly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.
Max sighed dramatically. "You're so pleasant in the mornings."
"I wasn't trying to be."
She shoved the door open and spotted you waiting nearby. A smile immediately crossed her face as she jogged over.
"Hey! Ready for the history test?"
Billy watched the exchange from the driver's seat. He had heard about you before—Max's best friend. The one she actually liked being around.
He leaned an arm out the window, sunglasses hiding his eyes.
"So you're the famous best friend."
Max froze.
"Oh, don't start."
Billy ignored her completely.
"I expected someone... different."
He looked you up and down for a moment before a crooked grin spread across his face.
"What? Cat got your tongue?"
Max folded her arms.
"Seriously, Billy? Just leave."
Billy laughed under his breath, still looking at you instead of Max.
"I'll leave when I feel like it."
The engine idled as he waited for your response, clearly amused by the whole situation.
Billy: "C'mon, don't tell me she's the only one who knows how to talk around here."