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-'ˏ Margo's Pov ˎ'-

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Margaret's Neighborhood

Monday , 7:18 p.m

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"Billy?" I tentatively called out.

"Fuck." He muttered quickly wiping his eyes. "What the fuck do you want I'm busy!"

I noticed that his attempt at wiping his face just smeared blood and tears all over his cheeks and into his hair a little bit.

"I don't want anything. Do you want anything?"

"No." He replied scowling at me.

"Alright I guess we can both be busy together then?" I said stepping towards him to stand next to him. Making him talk would only make him angry so I decided to leave him alone while making sure nothing else would happen to him that night.

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As usual the next day we ignored each other and pretended we've never seen each other in our lives.

I felt extremely guilty knowing he had to go home. A house he couldn't even call home because he didn't feel comfortable or safe there. He'd kill me if I reported anything and other than that, there wasn't much I could do.

"Margaret!" Nancy snapped at me trying to get my attention.

"Hm! Yes?" I asked snapping out of my thoughts.

"You weren't listening were you." She asked dryly.

"Hehe you know me!" I added sarcastically.

"Okay so as I was SAYING! Girls night? Me and you tonight like you promised!"

"Uh yeah sure. It'll have to be a little bit later because I promised my mom I'd clean the house up first. Maybe around 5?"

"Alright!" She said nodding her head and packing up her books. "See you then!" She added excitedly as she skipped away, most likely to go meet Steve in the parking lot.

Usually I'd be mad that she ditched me for a boy but it was relaxing to be able to walk home and be alone with all of my thoughts.

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I stepped onto the door mat and lightly pressed the key into the lock, letting myself into the house. I dropped my bookbag on the floor and began tidying up so I could have Nancy over as soon as possible. I decided to get the dishes out of the way first so I began unloading the dishwasher. I hummed to myself as I stacked plates. As I turned around to grab another to add to the pile a loud car door slammed shut making the plates rattle slightly. I shoved them into their places within the cupboard and peeked out of the window. I saw a tan colored pickup truck parked in the Hargrove's driveway that wasn't Billy's signature blue camaro. Thinking it was odd I checked the time and it was only 3:50 p.m.

That's when the yelling commenced. It only lasted about five minutes before there was a loud series of thuds and then silence. I frowned hoping that at least Max wasn't home and continued putting away the silverware. I left the kitchen to do my share of the laundry and was halfway down the hall when a loud and harsh knock came from the front door.

I hesitantly walked over to open it and slowly peeped around the door frame to see who it was.

"Hi. I thought you'd want some help being busy?" A familiar blonde hair boy joked. His voice was rough and low as if it hurt him to speak and some of his curls were wet with blood.

"Jesus fucking christ Billy." I pulled him inside roughly and locked the door. He stood there awkwardly inside my house trying not to dirty anything. I motioned for him to follow me into the kitchen and pulled out a chair. I left him alone to find something to bandage him up with and came back to him staring at the photos of me and Dustin that were hung up on the wall.

"Sit." I ordered him.

He still managed to roll his eyes at me as he weakly sat down. Visibly gripping the edge of the counter as he lowered himself.

Without saying anything I touched a gauze pad to his head that was soaked with peroxide. He flinched and grabbed my wrist.

"Shit!" He yelled. Whether it was at my sudden movement or the sting of the peroxide I couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I- I didn't mean to grab you." He immediately tucked his hands between his legs so they couldn't move and refused to make any more eye contact with me after that.

"Sorry I should've warned you."

He just nodded his head and let me finish. By the time I was done cleaning him up I had revealed one black eye, a gash above his eyebrow, a split lip, and multiple bruises on his face, his neck, and down his chest. He chose to take his shirt off halfway through so I could get rid of all the blood. When I was completely done he sat back against the chair exhausted. You could see him taking deep breathes which made his abs flex. I quickly looked away but not before he caught me. His mouth turned up in a small grin as he closed his eyes laughing at me. He only sat like that for a few seconds before picking up his shirt and walking towards the front door. He gave me a small smile and left.

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"Who's jacket?" Nancy asked me as she walked into the kitchen to raid my fridge. I look over to where she was motioning to and realized Billy had left his denim jacket lazily slung across the back of my kitchen chair. Shit.

"Uhh." I faltered. "Must be Dustin's."

She walked over to it and pulled out a pack of Marlboros from the front pocket. "Uhuh." She scoffed at me. "Not Dustin's so who's?"

"Well I uh-" I started before my mom walked in through the front door, cutting off the conversation.

"Good evening girls!" She chirped as she set the grocery bags down on the counter.

Nancy quickly shoved the cigarettes back into the front pocket of Billy's jacket before purposely whacking it off the chair and then kicking it with her foot to avoid it from being seen.

"Evening mama." I replied clearly sounding uncomfortable. "Nancy has to go but I'll be back to help with dinner." I told my mother who was turned around shoving stuff into the pantry. I took the opportunity to quickly snatch up Billy's jacket and usher Nancy out of the room.

"Is that Steve's?" She asked in a hurt tone.

"NO!"

"Who's is it?" She loudly whispers as we argue.

"Someone's. Drop it!"

"Margaret promise me it's not Steve's!"

"ITS NOT! I promise!" I seethe shoving her backpack into her arms. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow but right now I have to hide this." I say motioning towards my mother. She nodded understandingly as I shut the door.

"Rude." I heard her mutter from the other side.