#she also ate half my cereal and is refusing to buy me a new box bc ‘she thought it was from the landlord’

[theloveinc]

I need dabi to be my boyfriend so badly so he can bum around my apartment and stop my roommates from touching my shit

[insideoutstory]

Inside Out → Chapter Twenty-Four

summary: Two unexpected visitors, one with an apology, one decidedly not. word count: 6k warnings: Men being held accountable for their actions, can I get a hell ya a/n: Hey guys! This is the second to last chapter! Next week will be the Christmas epilogue, so prepare yourselves! This one is actually one of my favorite chapters, so I hope you enjoy.

[ masterlist ]   [ FF.net ]

Christine’s sling came off two weeks after the incident. She would have partied, or cried, or done something to celebrate. Something more interesting than going to work. But after what had happened with the spray paint and the missing candy, she was already on thin ice. If she wanted to keep her job at the Hawk, she needed to show up to work. 

Still, Anthony had been kind enough to switch up her duties. The sling was gone, but she was still on crutches, which meant it was still hard for her to get around. Joey was taking over the concession stand and cleaning duties, while she sold tickets and ran the projector. She knew Joey wasn’t exactly happy with the arrangement, but complaining made him look like a dick. You couldn’t be mean to a cripple. 

So that’s where Saturday morning found her—in the front booth at the Hawk, selling tickets to the new comedy they’d just gotten in. Hawkins was already getting colder, and Anthony had grudgingly allowed her to wear a plain black sweatshirt while she was upfront. It was the best she could do while she waited for her new uniform to come in. Her shirt and bowtie had never been collected from the school. 

Christine tapped her pencil against her head, trying to decipher the physics notes in front of her. Steve had been attempting to take notes while she was out, and had kept it up for the last two weeks. She could tell he really was trying, but his handwriting was crap. He also kept misspelling words like “electromagnetic,” “gravitation,” and “field,” which added a whole layer of mystery to the subject. So she was going back over the papers to amend and copy them. This way they could study off something that actually made sense. 

She was just erasing one of the bullet points when a familiar, gruff voice spoke through the glass. 

“Uh, hi. Can I get one ticket to…uh…whatever the hell you’re playing this week?” 

Christine did not look up. She jabbed her pencil to her right, gesturing to the giant movie poster on the wall. 

“Oh. Right. A Christmas Story. Sounds great.” 

She rang up the ticket and passed it through the window. She still did not look up. 

“How much?” 

She tapped on the top of the cash register at the numbers that had popped up. There was a grumble from the other side of the window. The money came through the slot, and she counted it out to make the change. It was company policy to end transactions with, “Enjoy your movie!” Christine decided not to follow company policy. 

“Just curious,” the voice started again, determined. “When are you guys gonna get something new?” 

Christine held up two fingers. 

“Two…? Two what? Two days? Two weeks?” 

She shook the two fingers again. 

“Fine. And what’s that gonna be?” 

She pointed her pencil at the opposite poster. 

“Huh. Christine. How about that? Not about an annoying babysitter is it?” 

Christine finally lifted her head, glaring at Chief Hopper through the glass. 

“It’s a horror movie about a haunted car. Will that be all?” 

“Horror movie,” Hopper said, with the minimum amount of interest. “That the kind of stuff you’re into?” 

“Why?” 

“Just trying to have a conver…” 

“Why are you here?” 

Hopper stopped, narrowing his eyes at her. “Just came to check in. See your arm’s out of the sling. How’s the leg?” 

“Still broken.” 

“And uh…any…any unexpected visitors?” 

“Who wants to know? You or the Department of Energy?” 

Hopper frowned. But he didn’t deny it. That was good. If he had, Christine might have landed her arm back in the sling trying to punch him through the glass. 

“Forget it,” he grumbled. “I’m just here to watch the movie.” 

He tapped his ticket on the counter and started to walk away. 

“You know the worst part?” Christine blurted before he’d gotten too far. “I actually thought it was gonna be Mrs. Byers. I figured, desperate mom looking to find her kid. What if she decides to make a trade for Will? But Joyce doesn’t have it in her. She never would have done that to Eleven.” 

“Hey!” Hopper stormed back to the glass, looking frantically up and down the street. “Keep your damn voice down, kid. Do you want to end up in a lab cell, too?” 

Christine’s heart nearly snapped in half. 

“Is that where she is? At the lab?” 

The chief’s face furrowed in frustration, and he leaned heavily against the counter. 

“No. No, she’s not at the lab. I’ve been keeping an ear out, but it doesn’t look like she’s anywhere.” 

“Good. Wherever she is, I hope it’s far away from you.” 

“I did what I had to to save Will Byers.” 

“Yeah, and El paid the price. You just gave her up as collateral, after everything you said. All that bullshit about not letting a kid go back to a prison like that. And I was actually stupid enough to believe it.” 

“I tried, okay?” he said impatiently. “How do you think the cops got there so fast, huh? I sent in the tip to cut the agents off.” 

“And look how great that worked out,” she spat. “The kids had no one to help them, and Eleven had to go up against the Demogorgon alone. Whatever happened to her after that, that’s your fault. If she���s…If she’s dead? That’s on you.” 

Christine abruptly cut herself off, staring blankly down at her physics notes. She had no idea what she expected to get out of this conversation. It wasn’t going to bring Eleven back. It wasn’t going to change anything. She couldn’t have been the only one who put the pieces together. But for some reason, none of them were talking about it. Like they were so grateful to have Will back that they wouldn’t look the gift horse in the mouth. Well, if no one else was going to put up a fight, she would. She would punish Hopper in every way she could. Even if that was only with extra sass and overpriced movie tickets. 

He was still hovering on the other side of the glass, his massive form casting a shadow on her notes. It was very annoying. 

 “You tell the kids any of this?” he asked. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because they’ll probably do something stupid, and I’m hoping Dustin can make it through middle school without jail time.” 

“Right. So if someone eggs my house, I should assume it’s you?” 

The sound of his chuckle filled her with fury. This was Eleven they were talking about. A real girl, who was really lost, all because of his really stupid decision. And he was laughing at her. 

It made her reconsider breaking through the glass. 

But Chief Hopper seemed to sense the storm he’d stirred. He held up his hands before Christine could open her mouth. 

“I deserve worse, I know. But try and keep it hypothetical, huh? Sure your folks want you to make it through high school without jail time, too.” 

Christine clenched her newly freed fists. “Enjoy your movie, Chief.” 

He nodded and backed away from the counter. She turned back to her notes, which seemed even more incomprehensible now than they had before, but he wasn’t done annoying her just yet. 

“What’d you feed her? When she was living with you?” 

It was so out of left field, it took her a second to respond. “…Why?” 

“Just curious.” 

Christine frowned down at her homework. Her pencil hovered over one of Steve’s doodles, where it looked like he’d been playing tic tac toe against himself. She traced a circle around the grid, unable to restrain a smile. 

“Eggos, mostly. She really liked waffles with whipped cream.” 

Hopper didn’t respond. She heard the door open, and when she looked up, he was already gone. 

Whatever the chief had wanted out of their conversation, Christine hoped he’d gotten it. All she’d gotten was the uneasy sense of being watched, of being in the dark. She’d been confused a lot over the last month, but somehow it still felt like she didn’t know everything. She was still reeling when Claudia came to pick her up at the end of her shift. Thankfully, her spaciness was easily disregarded. If there was one thing her cast was good for, it was excuses. 

Claudia drove her to Big Buy, and together they did their grocery shopping. Even then it was hard to put Eleven out of her mind. The automatic doors at the front of the store had only just been replaced, and there were still fragments of glass that refused to be swept off the sidewalk. The manager, Robert, had spent the first week telling anyone who would listen that a little girl had broken it with her mind. After business had taken a hit, he changed his tune. It had just been a malfunction with the door wiring, and everything was all fixed now. 

Christine smiled wryly at the thought. She grabbed her own box of Eggos and dropped it into the shopping cart. 

It was a pretty light trip to the store. Christine had to limit herself to three bags if she wanted to be able to walk. Claudia was more than happy to help, but Christine always waved off her offers. There were only two people in the Walcott house, and neither of them ate as much as they should. She could manage the groceries on her own. 

“Hey, Dad! I’m home!” She smacked the front door closed behind her, and limped her way into the kitchen to start putting away the food. “I just got the basics. Mostly cereal, bagels, more Pop Tarts. There’s some chicken in the freezer if you wanted to do that for dinner. Otherwise it’s Chinese or pizza. Or burgers, I guess, if you wanna make the drive. What’re you feeling?” 

Not for the first time that day, Christine didn’t get a response. 

“Dad…?” 

She put the essentials in the fridge, then poked her head into the living room. Her father was, in fact, home. He was sitting in an armchair, newspaper held up in front of him. 

“Dad, did you hear me? I asked what you were feeling for…” 

“There is a boy in your bedroom.” 

Christine stared at him. “Excuse me?” 

“There is a boy in your bedroom,” he repeated. He folded the corner of the newspaper, briefly checking his watch. “He’s been in there for about…oh, thirty minutes.” 

“…okay…who is it…?” 

“I don’t know. He didn’t care to introduce himself.” 

“Right.” Christine nodded, still not following. “And you just…let him into my room?” 

“Oh, I didn’t let him anywhere. He climbed through your window.” 

Christine choked on air. Her father, on the other hand, just continued to stare at his newspaper. 

“I’m sorry, he—he what?” 

“Climbed through your window. I watched him try and sneak around the house, trip in front of the living room window, and stop outside yours. Took him a good five minutes to get it open.” 

“Uh huh.” Somehow, Christine was still waiting for a punchline. “And you just decided to…to not do anything about it, huh?” 

“I wanted to ask you about it first. See if you were expecting any visitors.” 

“Uh, no. Definitely not.” 

“I see.” Her father casually turned the page in his paper. “Gotta say. That answer does not feel as reassuring as I hoped it would.” 

Christine rolled her eyes, and was halfway to another quip when a thought occurred to her. Unexpected visitors… 

“I’ll handle it, Dad,” she said quickly. “I’m sure it’s just one of the kids playing a pranks, so uh, don’t go for the shotgun yet. I’ll let you know.” 

“Okay. And be careful! It sounded like he knocked over a stack of your cassettes.” 

“What? Oh. Yes. Yeah, uh, will do.” 

She hurried down the hallway, fast as her crutches would carry her. Could it really be her? It wouldn’t be the first time she was mistaken for a boy. And if she was sneaking around—she should be more careful. Coming here, especially when Hopper was looking for her, it was entirely too dangerous. 

Christine nearly tumbled into her own room. She looked around, out of breath. But she did not find what she was expecting. 

“Steve?” 

“Sh, sh, sh!” Steve sprang up from where he’d been sitting at her desk, and hurried to close her bedroom door. “Keep it down, alright? I had to sneak in through the window. Your dad doesn’t know I’m here.” 

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Uh, nothing. I just…you know. I…wanted to check up on you.” 

“You just…?” Christine gaped at him. “And this required breaking into my house when I wasn’t home?” 

“Well, now—hey,” he said defensively, holding up his hands. “I didn’t know you weren’t home. I know you usually get off work around now, so I was just guessing, and—and I didn’t break in, okay? Nothing is broken.” 

Her eyes strayed over to her dresser, where several of her cassettes had been scattered across the top. Steve grimaced. 

“Technically, those are not broken. I just…knocked them over when I tripped. Sorry. I uh…I hope you didn’t have them in any specific order.” 

“I did.” 

“Ah, okay, well uh…if—if you want help putting them back or something, I could…help?” 

She stared at him, still trying to wrap her head around the image. Steve Harrington was standing in her bedroom. His face still horrendously bruised, and wearing a green T-shirt that matched her carpet. He was just standing there. There was her poster of Indiana Jones. There was her poster of Han Solo. And there was Steve Harrington. There was her closet, still open from her morning’s search for a black sweatshirt. There was the towel on the floor from her shower. And there was Steve Harrington. 

 Christine gulped. He’d been waiting in her room for thirty minutes. Alone. The thought filled her with panic, though she had no idea what she might be hiding. 

“Did you touch anything else?” she demanded. 

“What? No! No, I didn’t—I barely even looked. I didn’t look. At anything. Sorry.” 

His nervousness had the curious effect of calming her down almost immediately. If nothing else, Steve looked just as uncomfortable in her room as she felt to have him there. Which only begged the question further. 

“Seriously, Steve. What are you doing here?” 

“Right, yeah.” He nodded and, right on cue, ran a hand through his hair. “Can…Can we talk?” 

She nodded without really processing the question. She let Steve help her over to the bed. He grabbed the desk chair he’d been sitting in and dragged it over. Steve did not sit down. He paced back and forth behind it a few times, drumming his fingers on the back. Christine had only seen him this nervous one other delightful time. 

“Look, Steve,” she said flatly, “if you’re here to talk about Nancy, I can’t help you. She’s dealing with a lot right now, and I don’t know what…” 

“Nancy?” he asked absently. “No, this isn’t about Nancy. Nancy doesn’t even know I’m here.” 

“She doesn’t?” 

“No. Well, she doesn’t know I’m here right now, but she knew I was coming.” 

“She did?” Somehow, this was even more baffling than the first statement. “You told Nancy you were coming?” 

Steve stopped pacing abruptly, and plopped down into the desk chair. “How’s your leg?” 

“Oh it’s…fine…” She stared down at the cast, almost surprised to see it. “I mean, it’s still broken.” 

“Right,” he said with a small grin. “So your leg is about as fine as my face.” 

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s that bad.” 

“No, I know it is. You can be honest.” 

“Oh, I meant my leg,” she said cheekily. “Your face still looks like shit.” 

Steve gawked at her for a moment, then choked out a laugh. “You—jeez. Alright. Pulling no punches, today.” 

“Hey, you wanted honestly.” Christine smiled, looking at him expectantly. “So…?” 

“Your leg, right.” Steve leaned forward in the chair, his elbows propped on his knees. “Well, seeing as you still can’t ride your bike, I was thinking I could give you a lift to school if you wanted.” 

“…Seriously?” 

“Yeah, sure. You’re only a couple blocks away from me anyway. And then I was thinking, you know, since you still need someone to carry your shit, Nancy and I could take turns walking you to class. This way she can stop freaking out about missing so much school.” 

A heavy, knowing feeling settled in the pit of Christine’s stomach. 

“Steve, you don’t have to do this.” 

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” he said jovially. “I don’t care about missing class.” 

“No, I mean any of it. In fact, I’d prefer if you didn’t.” 

“Oh.” He paused, looking crestfallen. “Why not?” 

Christine wet her lips. It made it slightly less painful when they split into an incredulous, wounded grin. 

“Because I don’t love being used, Steve. If you wanna patch things up with Nancy, that’s great. Good luck. But don’t use me to get your redemption. I don’t need your pity. Either of you. I honestly thought we were past all this.” 

“What—We are!” He nearly jumped forward out of his chair, waving his hands in front of him. “Chris, I’m not here because Nancy asked me. And—And I’m not here to make it up to her.” 

“Oh, right. You just had some completely unrelated conversation with her before you came to my place. Honestly, Steve, I know I’ve been dumb, but I’m not that dumb.” 

She tried to slide off of the bed, but Steve forcibly pushed her back into her seat. 

“No, no, no. Look, Nancy doesn’t even know about the carpool thing, okay? That’s all on me. I went to her to ask for permission to talk to you about some other stuff.” 

“Permission?” Christine echoed. She wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved or outraged. “Why the hell would you need permission?” 

“Because…Because Jonathan was right. I know you and Nancy were fighting, and yeah, a lot of it was because of Barb or the Upside Down or Jonathan or whatever. But it was also because of me. Because I was being a colossal shithead, to both of you. And I wanted to talk to you, but…I didn’t want to start anything on accident.” 

Steve sat back down in his seat, his hands folded in front of him. He was watching her anxiously. It looked like he was waiting for her response before he went any further. 

“Oh,” was all she could muster. “That’s…thoughtful, I guess.” 

“I’m trying,” he said earnestly. “Also, I didn’t want one of you badasses to beat my face in any more than it already is.” 

Christine bobbed her head slowly. “So, what was the other stuff you wanted to talk about?” 

The question made him look almost as nervous as the Demogorgon had. But Steve swallowed thickly and nodded. 

“I meant what I said that night. About wanting to make things right. I’ve done…a lot of shitty things, to a lot of different people. I went to Jonathan’s to apologize about his camera, but…obviously things didn’t go that way. And now with his brother home, he’s got more important things to worry about than whether or not he wants to forgive me. 

“I apologized to Nancy, for…well. The thing at the Hawk. It was dumb, and I was hurt and overreacting for absolutely no reason, and I know I can’t erase it. Well…like I literally erased it, but it doesn’t…yeah. And she says she gets it, but that she still needs time, which I totally get. So I asked her if she thought I could talk to you without making things weird, because…I’ve been going around apologizing to people and…and I still haven’t apologized to you.” 

He was quiet for a worrying amount of time. He was just looking down at his hands, perfectly still except for the rise and fall of his chest. Christine nearly kicked him to make sure he was still awake. But finally, Steve looked up at her. He almost looked bashful. 

“I just wanna start by saying that…I honestly don’t expect you to forgive me at this point. Which is kinda why I’ve been putting it off. It’s a pretty long list of bullshit so…if you’re gonna punch me, just try and wait until the end, okay?” 

“Okay,” she agreed hesitantly. 

Steve wiped his hands down his face, and started from the top. 

“Alright, well, first off—I’m honestly not that busy with basketball. I lie about that all the time to just about everyone so I can get out of chores and homework and everything else. I just hate physics. I don’t understand it, and I know you’re really good at it, so I let you do all the work so I can get a good grade without having to do anything. I lied because I knew that you’d do it for me. And I did the same thing when I invited you to Jenny’s party so I could hook up with Nancy. And when I invited you to my party so Nancy would come too. And when I asked you not to talk to the cops about the beers so I wouldn’t get in trouble. And…when I asked you come talk to me at the Hawk so Tommy could spray the building. 

“All of it was—I was wrong on so many levels. I was a manipulative son-of-a-bitch. I was self-centered, and—and arrogant, and honestly—I just really liked knowing that you would do things for me if I asked. I guess it…I don’t know. It made me feel good about myself. So…So I used what I may or may not have known about…how you may or may not feel about me, just to get what I wanted. Which is like, super fucked up. And I don’t know if it counts for anything, but…I’m sorry. And I don’t want to be that guy anymore.” 

None of this was news. Logically, Christine had known everything he’d said. She’s known Steve had been using her. She’d known he’d been doing it on purpose. She’d known that he had to have been clued in to something about her if he realized how he could manipulate her like that. 

But somehow, hearing him say it was so, so much worse. Having to listen to him say the words, “how you feel about me”…she wasn’t sure if she’d ever been more mortified in her life. 

She felt about ready to vomit. But she was still in a cast, and Steve was sitting nervously between her and the bathroom. It probably wouldn’t be good form to excuse herself to upchuck before they finished the conversation. 

Christine smiled, knowing it was supposed to suppress the human gag reflex. 

“Hey, it’s a two-way street, right?” she said, awkwardly. “I let you do it. It’s not like I didn’t know what was happening.” 

“You knew?” 

The thought honestly seemed to surprise him. Christine laughed for real, still dangerously close to tears. 

“Yeah, Steve. I knew. You’re not that smooth.” 

“But…if you knew it was a load of bullshit, then…why did you keep playing along?” 

She must have given him the bitch face to end all bitch faces. She’d explained a lot of simple concepts to him in the past few months as his lab partner. She was not about to explain that. 

Steve’s face dawned with realization, and he grimaced. 

“Sorry, that’s…I’m a fucking idiot. In case you haven’t noticed.” 

“Trust me, I’ve noticed.” 

She regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth. She’d meant it as a slight, to mean that he was such an idiot, it was impossible to ignore. But in her mouth it just sounded like another compliment. Of course she’d noticed he was oblivious. She noticed everything about Steve, from his GPA to his cologne to his favorite breakfast sandwich. What hadn’t she noticed when she’d been spending all her days watching him? 

Thankfully, Steve was just oblivious enough that he didn’t pick up on her tone. 

“I am an idiot,” he agreed, with a smile. “I just meant that—you know, you’re way too cool to be taking orders from a douchebag like King Steve.” 

That one threw her for a loop. 

“I…what?” 

Steve stared at her, seemingly just as surprised. 

“Christine, you’re awesome. Just this month I’ve watched you finish four science projects, hold down a job, empty a shotgun into a monster and then jump into a hole in the ceiling to save a kid you barely knew. You got thrown into a wall—hell, even just the fact that you punched Tommy H! I mean, maybe you haven’t noticed, but…you’re kinda a badass.” 

Her stomach could not digest the butterflies fast enough. It was infuriating. 

“Shut up, Steve,” she said, shaking her head as he laughed. 

“No, I’m serious! You’re a badass, you’re a genius, and you’re just…a really good person. And if by some miracle you don’t want to deck me, or jump ship and tell Mr. Austin you’d rather die than try and read my handwriting again, then…I’d really like to put in the work as your lab partner. And maybe be a better friend.” 

Friend. Christine had to stow away her bitterness before it shone through. It was what she was going to get. Steve liked Nancy. Nancy liked Steve. Christine would not stand in the way. After all, it wasn’t all that different than it had been before. She would do what she had to if it meant spending time with him, and preserving her friendship with Nancy. She’d get over him and get used to it, because that was life. Sometimes, you had to put your own feelings aside. 

“Friends, huh?” Christine stroked her chin dramatically. “I don’t know. Friends with Steve Harrington. That’s a pretty exclusive club.” 

“Oh yeah,” he said, with an exaggerated nod. “So exclusive that membership is currently running at about oh, uh…zero. So, we could use the numbers.” 

“Well, I guess that settles it.” Christine pushed herself closer to the end of the bed, extending her hand. “Consider me member number one.” 

Steve beamed. It looked weird, with his broken face, and his eyes that were still a little too bloodshot to be normal. His mouth couldn’t make it all the way up on the right side, because his lip was still split. Still, he grinned like none of it could bother him, and clapped his hand into her own. 

“So I’ll drive you?” he asked, even sounding hopeful. 

“If you want to,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t want to make you look bad. I mean, Tommy will probably wonder why you’re riding with Psycho Bitch…” 

“Screw Tommy. He’s an asshole anyway, and if he ever calls you that again, I’ll make sure his face looks worse than mine.” 

Christine raised an unconvinced eyebrow, but decided not to comment. As his friend, it probably wasn’t nice to tell him he would lose that fight in a heartbeat. 

“I do have one condition, though,” Steve added with a grave look. 

“Besides my forgiveness?” 

“Yeah. We are not listening to your music in my car.” 

“Excuse me?” Christine’s jaw dropped and she glowered at him. “What’s wrong with my music?” 

“I know! I’m sorry! It just—It seems kind of limited.” 

He got up from his chair and circled around the bed, heading back to the dresser where her cassettes were still scattered. Christine grunted, and had to barrel roll clumsily on the bed to keep him in sight. 

“I only got a quick look when I was picking up the tapes, but come on! Look at this! Piano Man, Billy Joel. Cold Spring Harbor, Billy Joel. Elton John, well, Elton John. Blonde on Blonde, Bob Dylan…that actually doesn’t sound bad. Oh look! Nylon Curtain, Billy Joel. Night at the Opera, Queen—that can stay. And, what a surprise, we’re back to Glass Houses by Mr. Billy Joel. I mean, where’s your Blondie? Where’s your MJ? Where do you get this stuff?” 

She smiled. “A lot of it’s my mom’s.” 

“So what? She makes you listen to all her stuff? I’m gonna have to sneak you a mix or something cause this collection is…phew!” 

She decided to wait rather than say anything. It wasn’t long until he realized what was wrong. He was holding one her tapes up to the light, squinting at the tiny font. The squint ebbed away until he was finally staring at it with eyes blown wide. Gently, he put it down on the dresser again. 

“Christine, I’m—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…” 

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “You can’t know if I haven’t told you.” 

“Yeah, but you did. You did tell me. At Jenny’s party, you said it was just you and your dad and I…I just don’t listen. Sorry.” 

“Guess we can work on that too. That and your handwriting.” 

Steve laughed politely. Christine was still smiling, and she beckoned with her hand. Steve dropped the Billy Joel cassette into her palm, and hesitantly sat next to her on the bed. 

“She got sick when I was about four,” Christine confessed, flipping the tape in her hands. “In and out of the hospital with kidney problems. Eventually we had to move out of New York so she could get around the clock care. She couldn’t move a lot, so she’d just listen to a massive amount of music. I remember the nurses used to yell at her for singing too loud…and then, um…she died when I was six. That’s when Dad and I started doing the whole move around the country thing.” 

“This guy her favorite?” Steve asked, tapping the tape. 

“Yeah. He’s from New York, so she was always really big on him. State pride and whatever. He only had two albums out at the time, so the rest are mine. It just makes me feel closer to her, I guess. Like maybe it hasn’t been ten years.” 

“Hey, I get that. It’s not the same thing, but I don’t feel that close to my mom either. I don’t think I could even tell you what her favorite artist was. Just the stuff my dad has us listen to.” 

“Which is?” 

“Beatles, mostly. It’s not the worst, but…it’s kinda like the movie theater, you know? You listen to the same thing every day and…” 

“And suddenly ‘Blue Skies Forever’ is the worst song ever created,” Christine finished with a grin. “Yeah, I get you.” 

Steve plucked the tape from her hands, inspecting it with renewed interest. “So he’s your favorite too, huh? You got any recommendations?” 

“The Stranger,” she said without missing a beat. “1977. Not a miss track on it. I’ve probably got to get another copy soon, I listen to it so much. It’s in the other stereo though, cause…I was playing it for Eleven…” 

Her sentence trailed off, but Steve just nodded in understanding. She wasn’t sure how much he knew about what had happened the other week. She supposed it was a conversation he’d have to have at some point, but if felt like something Nancy should do. She was the only reason Steve had gotten involved anyway. 

 He nudged Christine’s knee with his own and gave her a bracing smile. “You’ll have to make me a copy too, huh?” 

“Hm…no. I don’t think so.” She enjoyed watching his face contort with shock, and couldn’t contain her smirk. “Make your own copy, Harrington.” 

Steve laughed too loudly, which died instantly when there was a knock on the door. Panic shot across his face, and he jumped up from the bed. 

“Shit! Shit, I’m—can you stall him? I can just head out, or—or hide in the closet, or…” 

“Yeah, Dad, come on in!” 

The door swung open, and her dad took his time stepping around the corner. He was wincing, afraid of what he might find inside. Christine wished he wouldn’t play it up so much. She was in a cast for Christ’s sake. How much trouble could she get into? 

“Hi,” her dad said awkwardly. “Are…we still having dinner?” 

“Yeah. I tried to ask what you wanted before but you never answered me.” 

“Right. I was…a little preoccupied.” 

His eyes shot to Steve, who was standing stock still in the middle of the room. Realizing he’d been spotted, he quickly composed his face into a smile. 

“Uh…h-hey! You—You must be Christine’s dad. I was just…just asking about some notes for school, so I thought I’d…” 

“Sneak in through my daughter’s window?” her dad finished coolly. 

Steve’s face flushed with terror once more. 

“Relax, Dad,” Christine scolded. “Steve, this is my dad. Dad, this is Steve Harrington. My lab partner.” 

“Your…lab partner,” her father repeated, turning to her with a knowing look. “Right. Nice to meet you, Steve.” 

“Likewise,” Steve said quickly. His voice was about two octaves too high. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Walcott. Christine is…she’s like super smart. Probably the only reason I’m passing physics.” 

“I see. And…will you be joining us for dinner?” 

“Oh! No, I don’t want to be—I should probably just…” 

“Yeah, Steve,” said Christine, enjoying his discomfort. “We were just trying to decide between pizza, burgers and Chinese. What do you think?” 

It was hilarious how betrayed he looked. 

“Um, I don’t—no, I don’t think—you know, ha! Who am I to…?” 

“Come on,” she said with a shrug. “You’ve been living in Hawkins your whole life. You must know where all the best take out is.” 

“Yeah, but my parents…” 

“Would probably want you to study so you can start passing your physics tests instead of just your physics labs.” 

Steve glared at the thinly veiled threat. His eyes bounced nervously between Christine and her father, each more amused than the next. He ran a hand through his hair, and deflated. 

“Uh…burgers sound great. There’s a diner on the north side that does pick up.” 

“Great. Dad can call it in, and we’ll go pick it up.” Christine grinned, and herded Steve toward the door with her crutch. “We can listen to some Billy Joel on the way.”

[typetypetype2]

Chapter 1: Witch Store (Working title)

Wobble has always been a hangry cat and by this point, he knew when it was feeding time. He also knew when it was time for his human to wake up. Bouncing his tiny body through the apartment he marched his way to the bedroom. It's only a few steps for a human but for a tiny cat, it would take a while. Being that he is a familiar on the smaller side everything he did took a while. He's lazy to boot so that doesn't help.

Making his way past colorful plants that towered over him almost looked like he was on another planet until he made got closer to the couch. He loved to sleep in the corner by the lavender and jasmine. Past the pale purple couch, now he could see into the kitchen. He looked at the counter-tops he was never allowed on. Continuing on his journey he could finally see the bedroom door which was only slightly ajar. No matter how much he had demanded it keep it open his human always refused. Nudging it gently with his head he crept inside the room. The walls a deep purple and every accent was a light teal green. It was the only room in the tiny apartment that had any sort of style. He climbed the bed and found his human underneath all the covers. The a/c was on full blast so they had buried themselves in blankets to make up for it. It also kept someone from scratching their face off to wake them up, which may or may not have been what Wobble was getting ready to do. He burrowed himself under the covers to find that his human was awake and using her phone.

"Good morning baby." I kissed his forehead while rubbing his back. Wobble meowed in return almost as if begging for his owner to get up right this second. Glancing at the time I rolled over. "Did you come to wake me up or to ask for breakfast?" Wobble said nothing and made his way carefully out of the sheets and down to the carpet stretching. I followed suit, my favorite time of the day is to stretch with him in the mornings. "Alright, I'll get your food first then I'll feed the plants then I get to feed my face." I smiled and grabbed the remote to turn off the a/c and placed it back on the nightstand, unplugged my phone and walked out the door toward the kitchen. Wobble's food was stored above the top shelf so that way even if he grew he hopefully wouldn't be able to reach it. A familiar of his kind never really grew to be any bigger than he is now but I didn't want to take any chances. He had already broken one too many glasses and forced me to start buying plastic instead. Anytime he would get hangry he would launch himself onto the counters to bat off whatever may have been in his way. Heaving on the bag of food I half expected Wobble to jump up to try and grab it, but that was a fear that I always had.

After Wobble's food bowl was filled I grabbed a cup of water and began to water the plants. In total there had to about 30 of them in the apartment alone. I always start in the bathroom that way brushing teeth and using the toilet would be easy without Wobble trying to but his head into everything I'm doing. There are only 3 plants in the bathroom anyway all because of Wobble. There used to be more but for some reason, he hated every plant that was in there so the rest were moved downstairs.

Downstairs is the shop that I work in. It's owned by one of my best friends who has willingly rented me this apartment when I was down on my luck. Nowadays, I'm doing fine and am pretty well off. Having enough to buy my car, my broomstick, and many more witch supplies that before I was doing without. After a few years, my friend had found Wobble trying to get into the apartment one day while I was out shopping. He took the cat to his house since it was getting late but all the Wobble did was scream until he introduced him to me a day later. The tiny cat went silent and still in my arms which meant he was a familiar. Even better it meant he was meant to be MY familiar which meant I had been stuck with an animal, a magical animal, I had no idea how to take care of.

It didn't take long for the two of us to get close, however. It was almost like we had the same personality, which is rare for a witch and her familiar to have. Usually, for the first few years, a witch and their familiar would have to work together and would regularly bicker and avoid each other. For these us though, we never fought. Except for the occasionally scratch to the face to signal it was time for me to wake up, which I hate, our relationship has been pretty smooth going so far.

"Now that all the plants are taken care of it's time for some cereal!" Pouring out the remaining water and placing the cup face down in the sink, I made my way to the fridge. Grabbing a bowl from the cabinet and one of the cereal boxes from the top of the fridge the breakfast had been made. I decided to stand and eat. It didn't make sense to sit when I still have other things to do. I grabbed my phone from the counter where I had placed it earlier and a spoon from the top drawer and began shoveling spoonful's of sugary goodness down my throat, barley thinking to chew. I hadn't eaten the night before because work had gotten too hectic for me to take a break. With a mouth full of cereal I got a phone call from Jax. "Hewwo?" I asked, chewing the rest of the food in my mouth. "Did you eat?" "Maybe?" "What does that even mean?" He asked confused. "I might have been eating and I might have not eaten, why do you ask?" I put down my spoon hoping he was inviting me out to eat for some real food. "Well, we were going to eat at Kick's but if you ate already then," I didn't give him time to finish. "What time? I'm down. Who is we?" "Me, Sari, Jenni, and you? If that's okay. I know you and Jenni weren't getting along last I heard." I shook my head disappointed. Jenni and I haven't gotten along in a while. After I came out to the group Jax had approved, Sari nodded and asked inquisitive questions, and Jenni ignored me. She choose instead to call me 'she' for the rest of the time we were hanging out and I wanted nothing to do with her from that time forward. However, I am hungry so I shall go. I won't like it and I know for a fact that I'm going to be annoyed while there, however after the event but my tum will be full of great food and I haven't seen Jax and Sari in a while. "No, I'll go. I won't like it or enjoy myself but I'll go. I miss you and Sari plus I'm hungry so." "Is that a good idea? I don't need you getting upset and going home in a hurry." "I'll bring Wobble and some amethyst to keep me grounded so I should be fine. Tell her to try to be polite. If she manages to still piss me off I might just spell cast her." "Oh my gosh don't do that! That's not nice!" "Well, she's not nice! Don't ask me to be civil while letting she misgenders me the whole damn day! Wait, what time are we going?" Asking that I looked down at my bowl of cereal. I either had time to scarf it down or I'd have to pour it down the drain. Whatever I did it would be an upsetting waste of cereal if I don't get to enjoy it. "Uhm, we going right now. Is that ok? If not we can schedule something else another time?" "Nah, I get ready now. I go." "Okay. Well, hurry up we almost there!" "Oh please, I know damn well you're either still in bed or stuck in traffic. Sari is probably waiting for a ride from Jenni and Jenni is nowhere near ready. If I hurry I'll be the first one there and Jenni might not even come." Jax chuckles "you know us so well." We laugh together as I pour out my bowl into the sink. Turning on the garbage disposal and enjoying the sound of the cereal grinding up and going down the drain. "What was that noise?!" I laugh again "It was the garbage disposal." "What is you disposing of? A body?" "Nah, I did that last night. I dumped it out in the harbor with the rest of them." Jax was dying laughing at the thought. We both had a strange sense of humor. Having been on Bumblr for around the same amount of time and sharing memes for years.

I told Jax that I'd meet him in the parking lot of the restaurant and hung up the phone. Since I need to hurry I might as well take the broom instead of the car and get dressed sooner rather than later. Bringing my phone with me I marched into the bedroom after dumping my bowl in the sink. I already have an outfit in mind, that new black and purple dress I bought two days ago, a black jacket, and my black work boots. I started to close the door until I heard a tiny meow in protest. Leaving the door open I starred into my closet realizing a little too late that the dress was still in a bag on the floor in the corner from when I bought it. Turning my head I now saw that's where Wobble had planted his butt and yawned. It's not difficult to move him at all it'll just be a chore I didn't want to deal with while being in a hurry.

"Don't worry bud you're coming with me." I scooped him up in my hands and grabbed the bag. Placing the cat on my bed I pulled on the dress and did a twirl in the mirror on my bathroom door. Wobble mewed in approval. Scooping Wobble in my arms again I rushed into the living room almost hitting my foot on the couch, I grabbed my vented backpack from its hook and plopped Wobble inside. Putting the bag down I began to slide my foot into my boot while simultaneously putting on half of the jacket. I lost my balance. Beginning to lean backward I mouthed the word balance while drawing a small straight line with my finger swiftly I was propped back up straight. I finished placing on my jacket, calmly but on boots then zipped my backpack and placed it on my back. Grabbing some amethyst and dried lavender off my altar I made my way through the door making sure to lock it behind me.

"Broom, come" I whispered sweetly. Hearing the familiar sound of the wind moving I readied myself to grab the broom. It came with a breath of cold air. I caught it and stroked its brush. "It must be freezing in the shop. I'm sorry I left you down there all night." I spoke in a hushed voice. The broom made no noise but I could tell it accepted my apology. As I saddled up Wobble voiced his protest, he hates flying but the way I see it he'll get over it one day.

"Up." I commanded. As I began to hover I secretly wished I would beat everyone else there.

[tashahopp]

Draft 4

Eri placed the cactus by the window and thought about the potted plants that had mysteriously disappeared. It did not bother her, things go missing all the time. Things like bobby pins and paper clips. If small things like these could go missing forever then there is nothing unusual about several pots of plants going missing too.

Eri lives alone. Her family lives in Nagoya but she moved away when she was seventeen. She was not close to her family members, they have been strangers living under the same roof. They had sent her letters every now and then but Eri never replied.

The air was cold and she indulged in a hot bath as she meticulously cleaned herself like a cat. Washing herself made her think of the last time she had let anyone touch her. Eri did not have many friends, she kept to herself in school. Her hair was jet black and it has never been anything but black. Her skin looks like it has never seen the sun. Her mouth is small and is of a lovely shade of pink. If you look close enough you might think she is beautiful. The only person who had bothered looking was Shuici.

He introduced himself as Shuichi but half the time he did not even respond to it. They met last year in a nearby 7-eleven store while she was eating ramen.

‘Hello.’ He took the seat next to her.

Eri continued eating her noodles.

‘We’re from the same class. In fact, we have been in the same class for three years.’

This time she turned to see him. Shuici was just a head taller and he had worn a mustard sweater with a pair of jeans and expensive leather boots. He did not mind that she was scrutinising him from head to toe, he wanted her attention. By this time, she had finished her meal and was ready to go home.

‘Wait. My name is Shuici. You are Eri right?’ She gave several nods three seconds later.

‘You know, you don’t talk much. Let’s go for a walk, it’s Sunday and the weather’s lovely.’

Shuici was right, it was June and the air was windy but not cold. She agreed to walk with him and they walked mindlessly through the streets of Tokyo. They passed by a few bars and a few more 7-eleven stores. Everyone around them seemed to be in love, exchanging quick kisses and clasping each other’s hands tightly. Eri wondered at this point what love would feel like. Shuici seemed to know what she was thinking and he pulled Eri closer by her shoulders. This sent a sudden jolt and her ears turned red.

The sky was orange with a splash of purple. Shuici did most of the talking and Eri would either nod in response or gaze at his direction to let him know she was listening. Eri felt like they had a conversation although it was very one-sided. Shuici talked about his childhood and how he had spent his holidays in his grandmother’s house eating juicy watermelon. He lives in a dorm now and his parents sends him money every month.

Shuici confessed that he had made use of his freedom when he first arrived in Tokyo. He would sit by the bar with his friends and talk to the girls sitting across them. At the end of the night his friends would bring a girl home but Shuici thought it would be pointless.

‘After some time it became a routine for them you know? But what is the point of sleeping with someone if you are not going to see them anymore.’

Eri felt small and she was embarrassed at the thought of imagining Shuici sleep with a girl. She had never even kissed before. The thought of having a strong sense of desire towards the opposite sex is so unfamiliar to her, until now.

They had circled the streets and Eri recognised the 7-eleven near her house where they met just now. She was sad that they had to part. She enjoyed listening to his stories and by now she knew so much about him that she was ready to call him a friend.

‘Goodbye Shuici.’ Shuici was surprised that Eri had opened her mouth.

He smiled with his eyes and gave her a loud kiss on her forehead. He left her standing there for some time, she kept rubbing the spot where his lips were moments ago. She watched him disappear into a corner and she retreated back into her apartment.

For about half a year they ate ramen together and took evening walks together. At times Eri would let him in the apartment and they would sit next to each other on her bed and talk.

‘Everything about you is of perfect symmetry.’ Shuici had said one day.

Eri blushed in response and she let him kiss the side of her mouth. She could still remember what they were wearing that day. Shuici was fond of button ups and he would always find ways to incorporate it in his attire. It was cold that December and he had worn a maroon sweater with a white collared shirt on the inside. Nobody had noticed this before but Eri was very particular about what she wore too. Her wardrobe was filled with white and cream. She was wearing an off-white sweater with champagne midi skirt that day, she had let her hair down and it curled lightly on her shoulders. Eri bit her lips and Shuici asked her to quit that.

‘You’re going to bleed if you don’t stop.’ He placed his index finger in her mouth and she laughed and bit him.

He likes it when Eri’s hair is up in a bun but she would only do that when she was going to bathe. Shuici was the first person who had seen her naked since her body matured. Eri never liked going to public baths. Her grandmother took her once when she was six but she hated the idea of exposing herself to strangers. She felt vulnerable and unprotected. However being naked around Shuici felt right and appropriate.

Shuici would massage her back and kiss the back of her neck. They would take turns to clean each other’s body before they made love to each other. It was a slow process and Shuici took his time to explore her body. At the end of it she would lie on her tummy and fall asleep as he move his fingers up and down her spine, drawing a very straight line on her back.

On some days that was how they would spend their afternoon. They spent most of their time in her apartment and when it was warm outside they would circle the city and visit places. Eri often brought Shuici to second hand book stores.

‘Sometimes you find very sweet memos in the book like this one.’ She picked a thick purple novel,The Moon Stone by Wilkie Collins. When she flipped to the first page, there were scribbles that said:

To Fumiko,

This was one of your favourites when we met. Words like these can be so pleasing to see on the first page.

Hope I am still one of your favourites.

Shuici took the book away from her and gave her a hard peck on the lips.

‘This is my note.’ he said and he led her out of the book store, still stunned from the unexpected gesture. They walked silently down the streets before they came across a museum. The art museum was going to close in two hours but they thought it would be a good idea to visit some place new. Besides, the last time they had visited a museum was in their adolescence.

There were many interesting art pieces. They came across huge black boxes that said ‘touch me.’ and they had to dip their hand inside the opening. A few of the items were soft and some were prickly. The next room was dark and there were people dancing in different paces. There were no music playing and the only thing to be heard was their heavy breathing. Their breathing was very controlled and every move was purposeful. Eri stayed to watch for some time before Shuici told her it was getting late. On their way back they saw a painting titled Transcendence. There was a white bed with beige wooden frame. A girl was lifted and her soul seemed to be escaping her body. The light was pouring in through the door-sized windows and there were green plants beside the bed.

‘Do you think there is another world out there beyond ours?’ Eri asked.

‘I think there could be.’ he said as he stroked her head. Eri lifted her eyes off the painting and gave him a squeeze.

That night Shuici had decided to spend the night at her house because he had missed the last train. Eri never used her kitchen and her fridge was always empty. Her cabinet was filled with cereals and ready-to-cook noodles.

‘I’m taking you to the supermarket tomorrow.’ Shuici said as they ate their ramen noodles in her room.

Eri’s flat was small but cosy. Her parents were wealthy so the whole house was renovated but she refused to buy a bigger flat. Her room was white and it had wooden tiles. There were no pictures of her family or friends. Eri never owned any pet either. Her room was so neat that it was almost empty, like nobody had lived in it at all. The only sign of life was the occasional crease on her bed sheets.

In the middle of the night Eri was roused from her sleep by his kisses.

‘Sweet dreams.’ Shuici said as he moved his lips closer to her mouth. Eri mumbled something incomprehensible and inched closer to him. She wanted to build a home in his arms. She slept peacefully that night and she woke up some time in the afternoon. She was used to waking up in the morning so she felt strangely out of place when she realised half the day had passed. Shuici was nowhere in her room when she opened her eyes. The bed was cool and there were no traces of him.

Eri’s head was still fuzzy from the long sleep and she figured he had taken the first train back to his dorm. She dragged herself out of bed as her stomach was calling and she realised her fridge was stocked with food. There was also a red cactus in a white ceramic pot in the middle of the dining table. She moved the pot to the window by the kitchen and took a bath.

She expected a call or two from Shuici but there was none. When she tried to dial his number, the line had been cut off. Two days later he was not in school too. She asked the professor if he knew what happened to Shuici but his response was astonishing.

‘Who?’

Eri looked for his friends but they gave her the same reply. No one remembered Shuici. It was like he never existed. Unknowingly as the days grew, she too forgot about him. She found it weird that she was oddly calm about his disappearance. It was almost like he was meant to disappear.

Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, it was close to a year since Shuici disappeared. Eri no longer had any recollection of him. He is nothing more than a distant memory. She had passed by the same streets and stores with nothing but emptiness in her mind. She noticed the cactus disappearing and she would replace them with new ones every time. It has to be red and bright, just like the first one she had received. Although she do not remember why she kept a bright red cactus in the first place. The cactus was the only thing that gave her house colour.

One cold December morning, Eri felt a strong urge to visit the old book store. It was a shabby place and hardly anyone made purchases. She wondered how the old man managed to keep his business going. She was struck by a book that had a purple spine, it stood out among the rest. Dust flew out as she flipped the cover page.

To Eri,

Hope I am still one of your favourites.

Suddenly she was crying. She did not understand why her face was hot with tears and she frantically wiped them away but they kept coming. Something was calling out to her. A name, a voice. She felt sick like she had been punched in the guts and her head did not belong to her. She ran out of the store and dragged herself home.

The road felt unfamiliar to her, her head was spinning and she took several wrong turns. The sun had set when she arrived at her door step. The sky was too orange like someone had increased the light intensity by a million times. Eri felt her consciousness slipping away, her limbs were giving up on her. A voice was telling her to get in the house so she dug for her keys and slammed the door open.

She could not believe her eyes, she was greeted by a trail of potted red cactus leading up to the bathroom. It was the same few cacti that had gone missing over the months. She heard the sound of water and she immediately undressed as if it was the most natural thing to do. Approaching the bathroom slowly, she turned the knob to find an empty tub filled with warm water. She reached for the hair tie over the sink and put her hair up into a neat bun. She thought about nothing in particular, the pain in her head had receded. However there was darkness growing inside her, she was suffocating and the only thing that could make her feel better was a warm bath. She closed the door behind her and sat by the tub. She dipped her feet slowly but she knew the water was lukewarm. She closed her eyes as she sinked lower into the tub.

Eri was dying. It was not physical death. Her heart would still be beating and she would still be breathing. Her life was not going to end here. Her body was after all just a vessel, it is her soul that is leaving her. The air was bubbling wildly from her nose and mouth. Her ears felt like they had burst and she could hear nothing but silence. There was no pain. Her world turned white in an instant.

There was a male figure standing in front of her and he seemed to notice her staring at him. He turned his head slowly in her direction.

‘Shuici.’