/ "and i have to speculate that god himself did make us into corresponding shapes like puzzle pieces from the clay" /
Michelle "Mickey" Hopper has a lot of problems. An alcoholic father ignoring the loss of his youngest daughter, her sister, Sarah...
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...Monday, July 1, 1985... say yes - elliott smith *warning: mick once again gets railed in this chapter ;)
Though Mickey did have her skateboard with her that evening and she assured Steve that she would be just fine skating home, he insisted on giving her a ride. As Steve threw the car into park in her driveway, he turned towards her and said, "Hey. Um, great job with Robin today. The code thing and... Yeah."
"Thanks," Mickey said, an amused smile curling her lips. After another quiet moment, filled only by the sound of her favorite radio station, she said, "Are you waiting for an invitation in?"
Steve scoffed and leaned back in his seat, looking away from her momentarily. "So what if I was?"
Mickey pressed her lips together. "Then I'd say hurry up and park down the block. I'll see you inside."
She smiled as, this time, she watched him pull out of the driveway before heading up to the cabin. When she got inside, however, she was surprised by the sight of Joyce busying herself in their kitchen, her father passed out on the couch.
"Mrs. Byers! Um, hi," Mickey said, dropping her skateboard by the door and peeling off her jacket after getting soaked by the rain.
"Oh, hello, Mickey. Don't mind me. El is at Max's for the night and, um... your dad, he..."
"Had too much to drink?" Mickey asked with a knowing smile.
Joyce immediately nodded at the offered excuse. "Exactly. So, just pretend I'm not here, okay? I've got it taken care of."
"Oh, yeah, he looks trashed," Mickey muttered as she passed the couch. "Well, thanks for keeping an eye on him. Are you... spending the night, or...?"
"Um... I'm playing it by ear for now, sweetheart. I think if he stays on the couch, which..." She moved her eyes over his completely immovable form. "I think he will, I might just take his room for the night. Stick around, make sure he's alright."
This time, Mickey's smile was almost suggestive. Maybe he really had managed to ask Joyce out recently. "I'm sure he appreciates it. Goodnight, Mrs. Byers."
"Goodnight, sweetheart. And, for god's sake, we've been through hell together. Joyce, please."
"Night, Joyce," Mickey said before closing her door behind her. A minute later, there was a knock at her window. She let Steve in and quickly closed it behind him to keep out the rain. He was already in regular clothes this time after having changed at the mall before the two left for the day. "I think my dad's finally getting some," Mickey told Steve quietly.
"What?" he asked, completely lost.
"Joyce is out in the kitchen," Mickey said, baring her teeth in an excited smile. "Finally, right?"
