Sundays were the worst. On Saturdays, she could imagine what Monday would be like, when she could see Mike and Elle and Dustin again. But Sundays were ten years long, nearing an eternity.

She'd already finished all her homework, made her own lunch, and spent a good few hours unleashing all her hate of Neil on her dresser, scratching up the polished wood with a pin she had found in her moms sewing kit. She had helped her mom knit an awful green sweater, and took out the trash.

Sundays were the most boring of days, even if she was finally left alone for a whole twenty-four hours.

"Max! Max, get your ass here." Billy. But what the hell did Billy want?

Max set down her pin on top of her dresser before tearing out her room towards Billy's, which was at the end of the hallway. Carefully cracking open the door, without knocking, she glanced at her step-brother, who was smoking a cigarette and drinking straight out of a whiskey bottle. Neil's whiskey bottle. The old man loved to drink, and sometimes, when night fell over the Hargrove residence, Neil would pull out a bottle of whisky or wine, and drink his way into a deep sleep. He would laugh and order Susan around like he was the king of Spain. Yesterday was one of those nights.

Billy, with his mess of dark copper curls and electric blue eyes, laid on his bed like a king. Playgirl magazines were strewn on the floor and the room smelled like vanilla and musky cologne. Typical, he left a mess wherever he went.

"Come here, sit." He drawled, pulling out his silver lighter and another cancer stick. Hesitantly, Max watched the way he flicked his lighter and how a tiny amber flame flickered. His lighter was an object that had always ignited her curiosity when she was twelve. It was decorated with a large skull on top, with a floral print all over it. It must have cost a small fortune to have it made, because Billy never showed it to Neil or Susan. Neither did he smoke when they were around.

"Maaax..." Billy sang. His voice was dangerous and dark.

She swallowed and quickly dragged herself towards his bed. Up close, it looked like a death trap. Max quickly sat down next to him, her body tense.

The two set in silence, smoke filling the space between them until Max started coughing. Rolling his eyes, he passed the lit cigarette to Max. She took it, but didn't smoke it.

"So your board is officially broken." Max's nose flared as she exhaled angrily. When she was helping her mom with planting, she had found the remains of her skateboard in the backyard, buried two feet behind her mothers row of tulips. One of the pieces she found had her and her dads initials carved on it.

M.M S.M .

They were a team, always had been and always will be. But now, she felt like she was all on her own. She guessed she had always been on her own. That was the beauty of growing up too fast, she supposed.

"Yeah, what about it." Her teeth felt like they were swelling, as if she was manifesting fangs and they were ready to sink into Billy's skin. She hated that he brought this up. She hated that he was taking his time in asking her. She hated this whole sham of a family and wished her mom had never ever said yes to Neil's proposal.

"Well, if it weren't for me, you would have to walk your way to school everyday."

"I know that."

"But you don't like it cause you're always tensing up like i'll hit you, and i don't like it because you're annoying." Max rolled her own blue eyes in response.

Billy smirked at her, before exhaling another breath of smoke into the room. "So i thought," he leaned sideways, one hand disappearing under his bed, "That it wouldn't hurt to just end both of our sufffering."

Max gasped.

No. No freaking way. He had gotten her a new skateboard. It had all the characteristics of her old one, but improved. It was still a dark red, with white and blue overlapping. The skull with a rose for one eye was grinning up at her. Her initials and her dads were there too, actually carved in instead of painted on. She could imagine the knife sinking into the wood and breaking through the pristine matte paint. That made her smile. Exactly like hers.

No. Freaking. Way.

"Why would you do this?" She asked, turning the piece of wood over and over in her hands.

"Because." Billy chuckled.

"You know, my mom loved to surf. She would take me surfing all the time. So naturally, i loved surfing. But one day, the old man found out about us sneaking around and going out for surfing when he didn't approve, and wrecked our boards to pieces," Billy said, "But what he didn't see, was my mom taking a chunk of the surfing board, and carve it for me."

Reaching inside his shirt, Billy Hargrove pulled out a small chunk of wood, curved and misshapen. Max watched with a cautious eye. Was he really telling her about his mom? Was this all a plot to break her?

"I miss her." Billy spoke again. Eyes glassy and voice hard and stoic like his face. He spoke of his mother so intensely, that it felt wrong to even doubt his story. Max had a niggling feeling that there was something darker to this story, and pushed on.

"What happened to her?" Max asked softly, not sure if he needed comforting. There were times when Max could read between the lines, times when she understood people and knew what to do. She was good at reading people like books, and she took advantage of her skill. But now, she wasn't so sure.

Billy laughed then, a bone-chilling laugh that sounded so empty and hollow.

"She's dead."

________

☮︎✧✞ nicole speaks! ;
I'm changing the ages here, so just a note that Nancy will be 2o, but for Steve and Jonathan and Billy, they will be 21. Holly will most likely be twelve even though i won't mention her much, and i might add Barb in!! :)

p.s : i'm sorry if this chapter is crappy, but i wanted to kind of insert Billy's backstory in. if you haven't noticed yet, yes, he is nicer than original billy, because he's still human and i'm rooting for him,even if he's now dead (but not in this book).