32. Chapter 32

“Alright,” he says, cracking his knuckles mostly to distract from the small crowd gathered in the living room. “Any requests?”

“Free Bird!” Jonathan calls immediately. Fuck you, Jonathan.

Wait.

Y’know what? Fine. Free Bird it is.

Billy gives him a sly smile and turns to the piano, fanning out his fingers over the keys before hitting the first few notes.

He sees Jonathan’s jaw drop out of the corner of his eye, and hears a few gasps of delight. However, it doesn’t really get interesting until he gets to the beginning of the first verse, because— see? Billy doesn’t sing. Not in front of people, Max aside. He doesn’t sing because he knows he’s mediocre at best, and can’t really stand it. He has the personality of a frontman, for God’s sake. Not some sessions guy.

However— and Billy didn’t know this— Dustin can sing. Dustin can sing, and he knows the words to Free Bird, because if you live in a town that smells like cow shit you just have to.

“If I leave here tomorrow, will you still remember me…”

Dustin’s got the voice of a goddamn angel hidden under that mop of curls, God damn. Billy wasn’t expecting that.

The song ends, as songs do, and there’s a sudden burst of sound as the group behind Billy bursts into applause.

“Handsome and gifted,” he hears Mrs. Wheeler say, which, awkward. Billy’s going to ignore that.

“More,” Jane says from where she’s leaning against the piano. “Please?”

Billy glances at Dustin, who shrugs.

“I know a lot of Nina Simone,” he offers. “My mom loves her.”

Nina? Billy can work with Nina. Billy loves Nina, though he’s never going to tell anyone that.

“Well,” he says, smiling slightly. “How about this one?”

He beats out the opening to Sinnerman, and Dustin grins.

“Alright,” he says, head already bobbing. “You’ve got taste, for a metalhead.”

Billy doesn’t bother answering him, because at that moment, Lucas starts tapping out a rhythm on his chest.

Dustin’s grin widens further, and he opens his mouth again to sing.

Yeah, maybe these nerds aren’t so bad.

*.*

Billy plays until dinner’s ready, taking requests from each of them— Axel demands he play ‘My Way’, while Kali rather bashfully asks for Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Time After Time’— and somehow, he finds himself in the middle of a heated conversation between the boys as they talk out the logistics of starting a band.

“Think about it,” Mike is saying excitedly. “El can play piano, Dustin can sing— if Lucas gets a drum kit and me and Will get guitars—”

“I can play bass,” Max offers. “I can play already, a little bit.”

“Instruments are expensive,” Billy points out between mouthfuls of something delicious that he can’t pronounce. “It would mean no arcade for a while.”

“It would mean jobs,” Lucas corrects, arching an eyebrow at Mike. “Think you could work for a living?”

“Dude, we’ve got all summer, I could scrape enough together—”

“Without raiding my piggy bank,” Nancy interjects sharply, which makes Billy think her poor pig's been robbed on more than one occasion.

“You’d also need somewhere to practice,” Steve adds. “Which means someone’s garage or actually renting a place, which also costs money.”

“You could always use the spare room in my studio downtown,” Colleen offers from her place between Joyce and her husband. She’d been watching it all with a cheerful humor between small talk with Nancy’s mother. “I’m always happy to be a patron of the arts.”

“Really?” Jane asks, turning her doe-eyed stare on Steve’s mother.

“Of course!” Colleen says, cheeks dimpling. “Of course, you’d need someone to watch you— there are a few tools I keep there that aren’t suitable for all ages. Which reminds me.” She looks over at Billy.

“I’ve been meaning to ask— would you be willing to help me with something, Billy?” she asks. “For a little spending cash.”

Billy blinks.

“Yeah, sure. What is it?”

“I need someone to go to the studio I keep in town once or twice a week,” she says. “You know, to clean up here and there, to make sure everything’s in its place. I’ve been meaning to hire someone for months, but it really can’t be put off any longer, and Steven can’t be trusted with my paint brushes.”

“One time, it was one time—”

“Would you be interested?” Colleen interrupts her son without a glance.

Job. She’s offering Billy a job.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, looking a little uncertain. “I can do that.”

“Great! We’ll talk specifics after dinner.” Colleen smiles brightly at him. “At the very least, that solves your supervision problem, children. You can work out a schedule with Billy.”

The chatter resumes immediately, this time with bonus puppy dog eyes as they all turn to plead with Billy Just like that, he finds himself being roped into babysitting. Damn, Hawkins parents are slicker than he gives them credit for.

*.*

Five hundred dollars a week, to sweep the floors and dust. Five hundred dollars a week, and Colleen says it like she thinks it isn’t very much at all. Billy would be a moron not to take it, and he’s not quite a good enough person to try and point out how insanely extravagant that is.

Colleen has solved like, eight of Billy’s problems in one conversation, and all he has to do is promise to watch the kids when they get their shit together and start a band— which they probably will, by the end of summer. They seem like those kinds of kids. She even offers to have the piano in the house moved to the studio, so he can start teaching Jane.

Apparently, Steve’s mother is insane.

Dazed by his sudden fortune, Billy almost doesn’t notice Hopper’s approach until the Chief is standing directly in front of him, looking uncomfortable.

“Hey, kid,” he says, and wow, good mood shattered. “Can I talk to you?”

Billy stares at him. The anger is still there, right behind his eyes, but there’s something else there, too, a sort of defeated understanding that he’d really prefer not to have. Anger is easy. This bullshit is complicating an otherwise pure urge to punch the Chief in the face.

“What?”

Hopper sighs.

“It was shitty of me not to warn you,” he says. “About Mrs. Grant’s visit.”

“Yeah,” Billy agrees. “It was.”

“You would have run if I told you.”

“... Probably, yeah.”

Hopper runs a hand over his face and beard. The guy looks tired. Maybe Jane’s been making an effort to keep him awake.

“You understand why I couldn’t let you do that, right?” he says, sounding exasperated and maybe a little desperate. “You understand that if you got caught, you’d go to jail and Max would be screwed, right?”

“I get that, yeah,” Billy says. “That doesn’t mean I’m fucking happy about the fact that Max’s face got busted.”

Hopper’s eyes flash, and Billy knows that look. He steps back quickly, out of range of the bigger man’s swing, jaw clenched mulishly, half-expectant and half-defiant as he meets Hopper’s eyes.

The man freezes, and the look disappears.

“I’m not—” Hopper stops, raising his hands. “Jesus, Billy, I’m not gonna hit you.”

Better safe than sorry, Billy doesn’t say, but the Chief seems to understand anyway.

Hopper sighs.

“I’m angry,” he admits. “I’m angry that the system doesn’t work the way it should. I’m angry Max was taken, and I’m fucking furious that someone dared touch her. But Billy, I promise. I’m not angry at you.”

“I punched you.” Billy’s mouth moves before his brain gave it permission. It needs to stop doing that.

Hopper gives him a wry smile.

“El assures me that I deserved it,” he says. “You did what I would’ve done, if they tried to take El again. I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was.”

Again. Again, he says. People tried to take Jane?

Billy’s list of people to kill just keeps getting fucking longer.

“Anyway, the point is, I’m sorry,” Hopper says, drawing Billy’s attention away from the new and pulsing fury in his chest. “I messed up.”

“... Yeah.” Billy crosses his arms. “That’s not happening again.”

“No, probably not,” the Chief agrees. “Because you now have an illusionist for a friend to go with your telekinetic baby pianist.”

“Jane isn’t mine,” Billy says, frowning. “And Kali has only met me like, twice. Three times, including today.”

“El has decided you’re her favorite big kid,” Hopper informs him. “She told me so. And Kali has been following you around like a puppy since we got here. I think she may have a crush.”

“Not on your life,” Billy says. “I know a dyke when I see one.”

Hopper squints at him.

“You think?”

“I know,” Billy says. “I have an eye for this kind of stuff, trust me.”

Hopper gives him a long look, then shakes his head.

“Right. Well, whatever,” he says. “The point is, it’s not going to happen again, because if they try, you have a small powerhouse of magic children who love you and don’t care very much about the government standing behind you. Max isn’t going anywhere, believe me.”

That’s an oddly comforting thought. Almost enough to calm Billy down. Except…

“Next time that bitch shows up, or anybody else from the system, you tell me,” Billy orders. “Because next time, I will fucking cut your head off.”

“I’d point out you’re threatening a cop, but then, I feel like Kali knows how to hide a body.” Hopper sighs. “Fine. But if they show up, don’t run, okay? Don’t fuck yourself and Max over and do something stupid.”

Billy sighs, pursing his lips.

“It’s a deal,” he says. “Now, I’m gonna go back to what’s left of the party and get trashed, because I don’t have anything to do in the morning.”

“Just don’t drive.”

“It’s good— Joyce already has my keys.” She’d asked for them somewhere after his third beer, when he was still mostly sober. She’s a smart lady.

Hopper makes a face and opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can form any words, Axel distracts them, arms full of something wriggly.

“I found dogs,” he announces, and wow, he’s a lot drunker than Billy thought he was. “They’re small, so I brought them here.”

“Dogs?” Jane asks, jogging up to Axel curiously. “How many?”

“Shit,” Hopper whispers. “I hate dogs.”

Which means he has recognized that if Jane likes them, the dogs will be in his house now. All men fall in the face of Jane’s pleading eyes.

Billy loves that girl.