Chapter 8.3

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Ryan sat on the roof of the elevator, staring up at the never ending elevator shaft above her as her friends sat and talked below her

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Ryan sat on the roof of the elevator, staring up at the never ending elevator shaft above her as her friends sat and talked below her. She would've been down there with them, but she just couldn't join in on the excited, hyperactive conversations happening amongst everyone. She was anxious, she was scared, she was— she was in over her head. No one needed to see that, no one needed to know. She was the one that was supposed to stay calm, formulate a plan, keep everyone safe. She couldn't do that if she was having a silent breakdown.

Steve climbed out of the escape hatch, walking over to sit next to her. She didn't even look in his direction as she asked, "Is everyone okay?"

"Erica 'accidentally' hit Dustin over the head with her backpack, Axe laughed, then Robin moved one of the boxes in front of him when he was walking and made him trip, but other than all that, they're okay." He sat down next to her, studying her expression closely. He'd never seen her so quiet before, at least, not like this. "Are you?"

"No." She shook her head, tugging her hair out of its ponytail, pulling at the elastic of the scrunchie as she put it on her wrist. "No, I'm not. Everything's just— too much right now."

"Talk to me." He said quietly. "What's going on?"

"I don't even know where to start." Ryan sighed, shaking her head again as she stared up at the endless elevator shaft. "We're stuck at least a few hundred feet underneath the mall in a Russian elevator, we have no idea how to get out, and odds are the only way out will be when the Russians open the door on the other side. When they do that, who knows what'll happen to us then?"

Steve stared at the wall in front of him, not sure what to say. Ryan had a point. They had no way out, no plan. When those doors opened, they were all sitting ducks. They weren't supposed to be there, the Russians wouldn't take too kindly to a bunch of random teenagers from Hawkins sitting around in their secret elevator. They were in danger, that much was clear, but that didn't seem to be the problem.

"What's worse is somehow, deep in the back of my mind, I feel relieved to be down here." Ryan continued with a small, breathy little laugh. "Just a little bit."

"What do you mean?" With everything she had just said, the idea that she would feel relieved confused him. "Why?"

"If we're in here, I don't have to figure out anything other than how to get us all out in one piece." She said, slowly tracing the scar on her forearm, a scar most people thought was from a motorcycle accident, not from the lifeguard at the pool. "I don't have to think about how miserable Nancy is at her job and how I'm never there to help her. Or how much time I'm losing with El because of all the time I'm spending behind an ice cream counter. Or how these are my last few months in Hawkins and despite everything that's happened to me— to us— I don't want to leave."

The Girl in the Window {Steve Harrington} Where stories live. Discover now