Chapter Text
“Stop staring, dweeb.”
The voice cut through a fraction of your brain fog. Not enough to draw your attention away from your current pinpointed focus, but certainly enough that some semblance of normal thought would eventually trickle back in given time. You know, had it not been for the second later when an arm cut across your vision and someone flicked you on the forehead. Patience was never your sister’s virtue.
Still, it did shock you out of the stupid little reverie you had fallen into the past five minutes. It was probably better she busted the daydream before someone else caught you and thought you were someone’s lobotomy patient left without supervision.
“Christ, Robin!” You huffed, slapping away her hand as she gave you an indignant look. It was distraction enough that you managed to flick her right back on the forehead. Maturity was never your virtue.
“That was a lot harder than I did it,” she argued back, already trying to thwack you once again.
It quickly became a sitting wrestling match as you tried to capture each other’s arms, biting low insults at one another as it went on. You finally managed to yank Robin’s arm down and back to her side, head twisting fast to see if anyone was watching the scuffle. Thankfully not. There was already so much commotion between the football idiots trying to knock soda cans off one another’s heads by throwing a spiral. They probably weren’t even trying to hit the can anymore with how much harder they laughed when the ball slammed into someone’s face instead. I mean—It was pretty funny.
“I sat beside you, and you didn’t even notice me. Do you think that if you stare long enough, it will intimidate Eddie’s clothes into falling off his body?”
The instinctual hand that slapped over her mouth at that moment might have been loud enough to draw some attention if it wasn’t so perfectly timed with the loud smack that came from the football hitting someone in the face again. Divine intervention at its finest.
“You don’t have to say every thought that pops into your head,” you whispered harshly, eyes still nervously darting around just to double-check that no one had heard. Your only solace was that you hadn’t decided to sit at a closer table to Eddie, who was far out of earshot halfway across the quad.
“Tell me about it,” offered a new voice from behind you. Shock and surprise rolled through your body as if electrocuted, eyes widening as a familiar figure sat opposite you at the picnic table. “The other day, she was complaining about how annoying it is that your mom tells embarrassing stories about you both to company, but then lets it slip in the same sentence that she wet the bed until she was nine.” Robin must have kicked Steve’s shin under the table because he let out an even more dramatic, “ow!” than you thought him capable of. Then again, Steve and dramatics always went hand in hand most of the time.
“What, did they realize they made a mistake in letting you graduate and rescind your diploma?” You asked him, probably a bit more snippy of a greeting than usual, given that you were still red-faced and deflated from Robin’s mental attack.
Robin gave a short snort at how Steve reared his head back an inch, his floppy hair moving with him like it was an appendage and not—well, you know. Hair. “Ignore them. They’re just mad Eddie Munson doesn’t know they exist.”
You always thought choking on water was something only people on television did when they were shocked. As it turns out, it's a very honest reaction and one you could do simply with your spit. “I hope you trip over your own feet and the doctors have to wire your jaw shut,” you breathed out, covering your heating face with your hands as you tossed your head back, wishing you were anywhere else. And by anywhere, you meant that in the truest sense there was. Let the footballers whisk you away and use your face as target practice instead.
“Munson? You like Eddie’ The Freak’ Munson?” Steve sputtered back. You were thankful that he didn’t just laugh in your face like when Robin found out. You still felt the phantom feeling of her spit on your face. Then again, maybe laughter wasn’t the worst reaction. When you removed your hands from your face and saw the genuine look of astonishment and confusion cross his features, brows furrowed, head slightly cocked to the side and studying you as if you were the freak, you began to wonder if you’d prefer the slice of a chuckle and not the hammer of a disappointed and alienating stare. “So you’ll joke about me never graduating— which I did, they can’t just take that back— but find that a desirable trait in Eddie? You do realize he was held back two years.” As if his own words finally hit his ears, he screwed his face up like he smelled something bad. “Jesus, dude is like twenty years old.”
“I never said it was logical, okay?” you huffed back, folding your arms over your chest, then unfolding them, feeling too restless and itchy at the scrutinization your sister and her idiot friend were putting you through. “I know it’s not going to happen—known that since I was a freshman and joined the Hellfire Club. You can both let it go now.”
You’re a Junior now, and Eddie still treats you the same as if you were a wandering lost puppy he pitied and took in. You kind of were back as a freshman. No friends, not really anyone to talk to other than Robin, wandering around aimlessly in the hallways like the least scary ghost there was, given how many people tried to walk through you. You’d prefer outward avoidance to that. Still, things were different now. Maybe your only friends were members of the Hellfire Club, but at least you’d ranked up from lost puppy to social pariah with a decent backbone. Eddie, however, clearly didn’t see it that way. His nickname of pipsqueak stuck and has followed you since. Sometimes, he shortens it to Pip, which would be fine if half the student population didn’t think that was actually your name. Some didn’t even believe you when you corrected them.
Robin raised her hands in surrender, which was bullshit.The girl never knew when to let up. “Whatever. Look, I’ve got band practice, so you have to walk home by yourself. Tell Mom to remember to leave the leftovers in the fridge this time, okay? I don’t want to accidentally eat a fly like the last time because she left my plate out.” She said that with so much ease as she stood up and walked away, acting as if she hadn’t behaved like someone sprinkled rat poison on her tongue when it happened. It was pretty gross, to be fair. Just thinking about it made you mentally gag and want to reach for a toothbrush.
“I’ll be fine,” you called out, the same time Steve let out a disgusted mangled noise that sounded halfway between a dog trying to get a stuck piece of kibble out of its throat and a baby trying to say their first words. You stood up from the bench and swung your backpack over one shoulder.
Steve’s voice cut off your movement when you began to walk away. “Hey, let me drive you home. Your sister made me come all the way here to drop off her trumpet she left in my car. I’m already acting like a glorified errand boy today.”
You gave a short, breathy laugh, eyebrow raised. “Just today?” You asked teasingly. That got you an eye roll. “I’m good. Robin acts like this town is more dangerous than it is. I assure you, a walk by myself will not kill me.” Robin tended to hover lately. And by association, so did Steve, though you just assumed it’s because you were hanging out with Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Max, and he had that weird sort of older brother/fifth-wheel type relationship with them. You also assumed it had something to do with Nancy. A lot of what Steve did had to do with Nancy.
“Are all you Buckley’s this painfully stubborn? Just get in the damn car,” he fought back with as much patience as your sister had. Which, as stated earlier, was none at all.
“Steve, it’s fine.“ At this point, you were arguing back merely on some screwed up principle. You might have gotten farther with it had Steve not stalked next to you and yanked your backpack from your shoulder, already walking off towards the parking lot with conceited expectations that you would fall in line and trail behind him.
You did. He had your bag.
At least you managed to snag one last glance at Eddie as you walked past.
“Has anyone ever told you that you're bossy?” You muttered under your breath as you stopped at the familiar burgundy brown BMW that your sister had begun to use as her personal taxi. He tossed your bag into the back once he slipped into the driver’s seat, leaning over the center console to push open the passenger door you waited by.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have bad taste in men?” He supplied back, putting the key in the ignition when you slammed the door shut.
“Don’t start,” you said, staring at him, heavily annoyed as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I’m not even as bad as you. Everyone sees the way you pine after Nancy.”
His head snapped so fast to look at you that you quickly smacked his arm to remind him to keep his eyes on the road. “Everyone does not—I don’t pine after Nancy, okay? I get it. She’s with Jonathan. We’re friends.”
“Friends who want to—”
“Don’t start.”
All right. Fair.
Still, it was hard to believe the whole friend thing, not only because of the looks Steve gave Nancy, but the ones you saw her give him behind his back. Jonathan wasn’t here. He was in California. And whether or not Nancy gave Steve lingering looks that were remnants of the past, there were moments you wondered if that was just it. Robin surely didn’t. She was pro Steve and Nancy all the way. You were shocked she hadn’t already made embarrassing T-shirts about it.
“Don’t let Robin pollute your thoughts,” Steve broke the silence as if reading said thoughts. A quiet seriousness passed over his concentrated face. “She thinks there’s still something there, but there isn’t. Probably because all these dates I’ve been on lately have all gone to shit. I think Nancy even stares at me with pity about it too.” Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he ran his other in a frustrated motion over his jaw. “I wish everyone would get off my back about the whole thing.”
“Well, why not just tell them you’re seeing someone? Not like it has to be anyone in Hawkins. Dustin’s got that long distance girlfriend of his.” It was easy enough to lie about that sort of thing, right?
Steve gave an unamused snort. “Yeah, like Robin will just let that one slide. She’ll see right through it.”
“Then just ask someone to pretend to be your girlfriend for a while. I’m sure plenty of people are lining up just to have a shot with the late, great Steve Harrington, even if it isn’t real,” you joked, though it was true. You’d never really talked to him before he became friends with Robin, but you remembered him from the hallways last year. Heard his name bounce around girl’s lips too often to ignore it.
“Thanks for that,” he muttered in return, hand gripping his steering wheel tightly as he went quiet once more. You shrugged, turning your attention to the window as you watched your neighbourhood come into view. Playgrounds, bright red fire hydrants, trees with tire swings hanging off thick branches. Yeah. Truly a terrifying small town if you ever saw one.
“But maybe you’re on to something.”
Of course, you were on to something. You may be hopeless sometimes, but you were actually pretty clever—
“Why don’t you date me?”
It was a good thing you weren’t the one driving. You would have crashed the car. He would have deserved it.
“You can just drop me off here,” you replied with as much casualness as if he'd never said anything at all. You reached for the handle, thinking the best option in this scenario was to tuck and roll out of the car. Steve grabbed your wrist before you could. Damn.
“I don’t mean for real, smart ass. But think about it. It would solve my problem, and maybe even yours too.”
You turned back to look at him with a face that read, ‘maybe they should have taken away your diploma, after all.’ “And what problem do you see me facing?”
“Eddie. Eddie’s your problem. You want him to notice you, right? Jerk off’s never been my fan, and it probably annoys the shit out of him that I hang around Henderson and the other idiots. Add you to that equation, mixed in with a guy’s stupid need to have something they can’t have, and he’ll want to date you in no time.”
Huh.
“It’s surprising you were never a mathlete in school with logic like that.”
“Can you be serious for a second?” Steve pleaded back at you, turning into your driveway as he did. Even though you were home, you didn’t think getting out of this car was going to be any easier at that moment than it was any earlier.
“I am being serious!” You replied back, a small laugh escaping you at the absolute absurdity. You wouldn’t be shocked if this was just some elaborate prank set up by Robin to pay you back for ruining her favourite sweater a week ago. It was a bit overkill, but you had to appreciate the effort. “You’re the one not being serious. No one would even believe it anyway.”
Steve gave an oddly offended look. “And why wouldn’t anyone believe it? What, you’d never stoop so low?” Jesus, here he was, putting words in your mouth already.
“No,” you said bluntly. “I mean you would never stoop so low. What, the holy ex-basketball player dating his best friend’s little sibling who spends most of their days drawing alone or playing Dungeons and Dragons? Doesn’t exactly scream your type.”
He opened his mouth to argue back, judging by the narrowed look of his brows but decided to drop whatever it was. He deflated with a sigh into his seat, bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I-“ he paused again. “That’s not true, all right? Can you just think about it?”
You chewed the inside of your cheek, studying him and trying to understand why he was being so pushy with it. You could see how his predicament was bothersome. You’ve been on the receiving end of Robin’s persistent nagging countless times. But there was probably more to it than that if you were to bet. If Steve was so willing to sell himself out to try and make Eddie jealous, chances are he was hoping that using you would do the same for Nancy. He could deny it all he wanted, but there was still a hang up there.
“Fine.” You relented, Steve’s hand immediately dropping from his face as he sat up perfectly straight like an obedient child just being told they could have one treat. You held up your hand to tamper it down. “Fine, I’ll think about it. Don’t get your hopes up.”
Turning back around to grab your backpack, you opened your door and slipped out of the car. Steve leaned over the seat and reached for the handle. You thought he would shut it and just be done with it, but he surprised you by saying, “don’t take too long. You don’t have to play hard to get with me,” with an infuriating smirk and a wink.
And then he shut the door in your face.