misunderstanding ;; s. h. · Y/n story by @kurtsworld96

The final bell of the day at Hawkins High rang with a shrill, metallic clang that echoed down the tiled hallway. It was the sound of release, of weekend freedom, but for you, it just meant another awkward shuffle out of Mr. Hauser’s history class.

Robin Buckley

appearing at your side, her backpack slung over one shoulder Ready to brave the gauntlet?

In the hallway, the usual post-school chaos was in full swing. Locker doors slammed. Laughter bounced off the linoleum. And there, leaning against a bank of lockers about twenty feet down, was Steve. Tommy H. and Carol were flanking him, talking animatedly.

Tommy H.

—swear, man, Jason saw them at the drive-in. Last Tuesday. With some guy from out of town in a Camaro.

Carol

It just adds up, Steve. All the late nights she said she was studying? Please.

Steve wasn’t looking at them. He was staring at a crack in the floor tile, his jaw tight. He ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, a gesture that used to be casual but now looked tense, like he was trying to physically push something out of his head.

Steve Harrington

to Tommy and Carol, voice low Let’s just go.

He turned and walked, not toward the front exit, but down the adjacent corridor, his two friends falling into step beside him like loyal guard dogs. Carol shot a smug, triumphant look over her shoulder as they rounded the corner and disappeared.

Robin Buckley

lets out a long, slow breath Demons. Shoulder-dwelling, gossip-mongering demons. You coming? My shift at the video store starts in forty, and I could use a co-pilot for moral support.