"I swear, if I'm dying tonight because of you, I'm gonna haunt your ass so hard, Harrington!"
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah! I'm gonna go full Poltergeist and shit!"
"Then bring it, Graveswood."
"Challenge accepted."
***
In which after years of suppressing their...
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Chapter Twenty-Four: Don't Want To Be Alone
(The Monster, Pt. 2)
***
*trigger warning: homophobic and acephobic slurs and language*
A burgundy BMW shot down the quiet road of Maple Street. Inside, as a cheerful pop song played, Steve pretended he wasn't gripping the steering wheel with a death grip as Tommy and Carol chattered and snickered, focusing on the road and the house he was driving to.
"I just don't understand why we're coming out here. She obviously doesn't wanna talk to you," Carol commented, not getting why Steve was heading to the princess' castle if she didn't want to talk to him.
"That's... that's not it," Steve muttered, because what else could he say? That he was worried about Nancy, especially since Rowan Graveswood had been at her place as well—he hadn't bought that school project shit for a second. There was something else going on, Steve could feel it, something that involved the two girls.
"Oh really? Because no girl would ever blow off King Steve," Carol said haughtily, Tommy laughing from his spot in the passenger seat.
"With the exception of Graveswood," Carol added, leaning forward. "She's never been interested in anyone."
"Really? I thought she and that freak were dating," Tommy commented.
"Please! As if! Munson is obviously a queer, and Graveswood is just some weird freak who's never kissed or done it with a guy, and she's not a dyke because she doesn't stare at us like a perv in the locker room. She's just some freak who hates sex!"
Tommy scoffed and Steve shook his head.
"Whatever. Nancy... she was acting weird. And speaking of Graveswood, she was there as well."
"So what?" Carol scoffed, before she screwed her face up and added, "Aren't their brothers like, best friends or something?"
"Yeah, they are. But that's not the point. Something was wrong, I know it, especially since Graveswood was there for a school project or something," Steve insisted. He tried to ignore how, despite being waspish and annoyingly sarcastic as usual, Graveswood had tried to be... sympathetic, about his parents. Which she shouldn't be—it was nothing for her to be sympathetic about. Everyone knew how much of an asshole his dad and mom were. He hadn't needed that sympathy.
He tried to tell himself that, even though the look in her blue eyes, eyes that were usually hard and burning, glinting with some sardonic quip or venomous barb, had been soft, softer than he had ever seen them, that it didn't make his heart twist, had him ache for that sympathy, that empathy from someone, even from someone who he hated, who he considered his rival, the feeling being mutual.
