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Chapter Five, An Ice Cream Deal
The sun shone a little brighter today. More birds chirped this morning, louder, somewhat cheerier, and Amelia felt lighter with every step she took. The morning warmth, which usually clung to her skin with sweat, felt less cruel this morning.
Everything felt perfect. The air in the house buzzed gently, and the rich aroma of fresh coffee drifted through the air, curling through the hallway and finding its way to Amelia's room. She hummed along to a song she didn't know the name of, some track that had wormed its way into her brain from her mother's radio. She rolled her eyes at how it clung to her head, but her lips twitched despite herself.
Today was a good day. She had woken up feeling different. Still bruised from last night's argument with Steve Harrington—he had managed to push every button she didn't even know she had—but lighter.
Maybe she'd woken up feeling that way because, despite everything, Steve Harrington had offered to drive her home. And that alone felt like a peace offering. The rain had been pouring so hard that it made it harder to see, not even with her bike's flickering light. And yet he had paused, awkward and stiff, hand gripping the steering wheel, and offered anyway.
But Amelia declined, politely. Partly because she couldn't stand another minute with him, thinking she'd end up saying things far worse than she had already said, and partly because she didn't know what to make of it. Of him. It was odd—especially after the way he had treated her like she was the enemy they had been looking for all along, and after she had listed off insults to his face.
She wanted to believe he had a change of heart, a moment to himself where he regretted ever doubting her. Or maybe he didn't. She didn't bother to pry into his motives, knowing she'd end up disappointed.
What she hadn't done either was talk to her mother. She'd gotten home too late—again, long past midnight this time, her clothes drenched and her heart still racing from the tension built overnight. By the time she'd snuck through the back door, the house was fast asleep.
She had missed her chance to tell her mom everything. To say where she'd been and assure her she was okay, that she forgot the grocery list again. But every time she'd think about it, Amelia realized it'd be better to keep her out of it. What they were doing back at Scoops wasn't a normal summer-like activity. She would have to come up with another reason to excuse her late arrival and her mother's missing egg dozen.
Her damp hair clung to her shoulders in loose waves, still wet from the quick shower she'd taken. For once, she hadn't been startled by the noise from her basement. No darkness clawing at the corners of her vision, no whispers echoing in her ears. No creeping sense of dread clawing at her spine. Maybe that was where the feeling came from.
