𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖑 || 𝘀. 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻

S2E3: The Pollywog

The lights in my room are too bright. The sound of mom messing with pots and pans in the kitchen is too loud. My head is pounding. I groan and tightly pull a pillow over my head, blocking out the light and noises.

My alarm clock blares in my ear from the nightstand. I blindly bang my hand around, hoping to hit the button, but instead I knock over a bottle of water and spill it. I finally get the alarm clock to shut up, then let out a frustrated breath of air and lie on my back for a moment.

he didn't pop this cherry.

I sit bolt upright, making the pounding in my head turn into a rush and the world around me to spin.

I said that. To Steve Harrington. Because I was drunk. I can never face him again. It's over for me. I want to die.

I curl up under my covers and try to pretend I never said that. It's was all a bad dream. The night is still fuzzy. I can only remember a few pieces of it. Hopefully that's the only embarrassing thing I said.

"Y/n, you have to get up." Mom knocks on my door. "It's time for school."

"Yeah, mom," I croak out, my voice muffled by my blankets.

"Don't tell me you're still lying in bed?" She continues. "You have ten minutes to be there."

I rub my eyes hard. "Ten minutes, shit."

"Hey, watch your language." Her footsteps go back down the hallway.

I throw my covers off and swing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet landing in the puddle of water. I look down and see Steve's water bottle lying in the floor. Guess I'll have to face him today. That's just great.

I get ready as fast as I possibly can, then run out the door without breakfast. I pull my baseball cap down on my forehead further and push my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose. The aching in my head has not subsided, and my eyes hurt now, too.

I make it to school two minutes late, but miraculously manage to sneak into the classroom and into my desk without the teacher noticing. Of course, I did catch Robin's attention.

She turns around in her seat and taps the face of her dark blue Swatch watch. "Two minutes."

"I know," I whisper. "Hungover's a bitch."

She lets out a cocky laugh and turns to face the front of the classroom. "And that's exactly why I didn't go."

"Miss Buckley, Miss y/l/n," the Mrs. Brayer says. "This is English class, not math. Save your talking for then." She looks at us over the top of her thin wire rimmed glasses.

"Yes, ma'am," we say, and she turns her back to us, writing on the blackboard again.

I lean closer to Robin and further lower my voice. "I wish you had, though. Don't tell anyone because you and Steve Harrington are the only ones who will know this—"

"Steve Harrington!?" She says too loudly, garnering a warning look from Mrs. Brayer. "Sorry," she apologizes. "Since when did you hang out with Steve Harrington?" She whispers.

"Since never! He was the only one who could drive me home last night. Anyway, John wanted to get in my pants after I told him no."

"Shit."

"Yeah, shit. He was drunk and didn't want to take no for an answer. He didn't succeed because I kneed him in the crotch before he even got close. I'll bet he doesn't even remember any of it today."

She looks back at me and holds her fingers to her lips, locking them. "I won't tell a soul."

"Thanks."