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chapter twenty , Frick & Frack (planning edition)
a/n : a duo we're gonna be seeing more often
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August was an important month. And an important girl.The teenager didn't know it, but she positively affected other people. She put others ahead of her. Especially, her friends and family. But this time. On this day. August 10th, 1967. It was about August 'Gus' Castillo. And Hopper wanted to make this the best birthday of her life. Over the years Gus and Hopper have lived together, they never celebrated her birthday. Hopper would always be working himself so hard, trying to block out his pain. Gus never wanted to celebrate her birthday. She wasn't big on...'big'. And Fallon knew that, so she wouldn't throw parties for Gus, but she always bought her a slice of cake and they would share it in her room.
Fallon was Gus' best friend. And Steve was Gus' childhood best friend. They could make this surprise party--awesome!
If only, Hopper knew that these two despised each other.
Fallon opens the door, revealing the Chief of police. And the caramel brown-skinned girl smiles.
"I am soglad you called me!" Fallon squeaks. "I have a lot of ideas and I wrote them all down in this!" she holds it out toward the Chief of Police.
Hopper pulls his brows together and looks at the words written across the journal.
Guster's Extravaganza.
"Whenever she said she liked something or wanted something--I wrote it down in this journal." Fallon continues to speak.
Hopper lets out a soft breath, "Uh, Fallon--"
"I have to tell you. I was getting worried that you weren't going to celebrate Gus' birthday again. Then she was going to get sad and I would have to bring her a strawberry cake so we can eat it again. And I wasn't going to have another year go by where The August West wasn't being celebrated..." Fallon trails off her explanation when Hopper steps aside, revealing the brunette boy.
Her brows scrunch together and she cranes her neck forward. "What are you doing here?" Fallon asks. She turns to Hopper. "What is he doing here?"
Hopper opens his mouth to answer, but Fallon looks back at Steve.
"What are you doing here?!"
"What are you doing here?" Steve squints his eyes.
Fallon's upper lip curls and she cranes her neck forward. "This is my house, dipshit."
"Dipshit doesn't even make any sense." Steve folds his arms and scoffs.
"You're a Steve, who's dipped in shit." Fallon giggles. "You're a dipshit. You represent a dipshit--"
