I wake up to the phone ringing. I rush into the kitchen to grab it. The clock on the wall says it's barley 8.
"Hello?" I ask.
"Are you with Billy?"
It's Max. I'm not surprised he didn't tell her that we broke up.
"No," I tell her.
"Do you know where he is?" Max asks.
"No," I tell her, "And I don't care."
"Well, he isn't at home, so I was just curious," Max tells me.
"Like I said I don't know," I tell her. "Did you need anything else?"
"No," Max tells me.
I sigh as I hang up the phone. The rest of my summer is going to be me explaining to people what happened to me and Billy. Why we broke up and why I don't care even though I really do.
I head to the mall to hang around Scoops. Steve and Dustin immediately drag me out into the middle of the mall with them. Steve has a pair of Dustin's binoculars.
I look at them curiously.
"We're looking for evil Russians," Dustin tells me.
I nod like that is not the weirdest thing he could have said.
"You see anything?" Dustin asks.
"Uh, I guess I don't totally know what I'm looking for," Steve confesses.
"Evil Russians," I tell him. "Dustin just said so."
"Yeah, exactly. I don't know what an evil Russian looks like," Steve says.
"Tall, blond, not smiling," Dustin tells him.
"Mm-hmm?" Steve mumbles.
"Also, look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing," Dustin adds.
"Right, okay, duffel bags," Steve says. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me."
"What?" Dustin and I ask.
"Anna Jacobi's talking with that meathead Mark Lewinsky," Steve says.
I hit him in the arm.
"If you're not gonna focus, just gimme the binoculars," Dustin tells him.
"Aw, Jesus Christ, whatever happened to standards? I mean, Lewinsky never even came off the bench," Steve says.
I hit him harder this time. He turns to look at me.
"Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?" Dustin says as he grabs the binoculars from Steve.
"Stop, hey. Stop," Steve says.
"Give me those," Dustin says. "I don't get why you're looking at girls. You have the perfect one in front of you."
"Seriously, if you say Robin again..." Steve starts.
"Robin," Dustin says.
"No, don't. No," Steve tells him.
"Robin, Robin, Robin," Dustin repeats.
"Stop, no, no, no," Steve tells him.
"Robin. Robin. Robin,"
"No," Steve says.
"Robin," Dustin repeats.
"No! No, man, she's not my type," Steve insists. "She's not even... in the ballpark of what my type is, all right?"
"What's your type again?" Dustin asks. "Not awesome?"
"Thank you," Steve remarks.
Dustin makes a face. "Hm."
YOU ARE READING
slay 'em dead//Steve Harrington
Fanfiction"It's a school night," I remind him. "Shouldn't you be inside?" Steve asks. "But it's so nice out here," I tell him. "I mean I am pretty nice to look at," Steve remarks.
