"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 Fifty-Three: You're Not Bullshit
(Trick Or Treat, Freak, Pt. 5)
***
The music from Steve's radio filled up the silence that neither teen was willing to break. Rowan leaned her head against the window, watching the streets of Hawkins blur by, the streetlights lining the sidewalk beacons of light in the dark. A singer Rowan didn't recognise sang from the speakers, voice and music incredibly bubblegum pop to her heavy metal, rock n' roll and folk ears; she resisted the urge to change the station to, hopefully, something more appealing. In the driver's seat, out of her peripheral vision, Steve clutched his steering wheel tight, eyes trained on the shadowed road ahead of them, jaw tight. The picture of looking like he was trying to keep from falling to pieces.
Rowan frowned, her concern rising, especially when it became clear Steve had no idea where he was driving them.
"Harrington, do you know where you're going?" Rowan asked, voice soft, lacking her usual bite.
Steve's shoulders tensed, before they relaxed by a fraction and he let out a stilted sigh. "No. But that doesn't really matter, right? Like anything I do really matters, it's all bullshit."
The concern twisted in Rowan, and the dark-haired teen scooted as close as she could, taking a hold of the wheel. "Okay. I'm taking over now."
Steve twisted to her, shock briefly erasing that heartbroken look. "What? Since when do you have a licence, Graveswood? Wait, do you have a licence?"
"No," Rowan admitted, "but, I know a place that might help. Unless you want to keep driving aimlessly all night?"
Steve looked at her, brown eyes staring into her blue ones for such a long moment, it felt time had been suspended for that single stare, that the world had shuddered away and it was only them and that look that said so much and yet so little.
But held gazes and bubbled moments weren't meant to last, were meant to shatter and fade away like they never happened. Steve proved that when he looked away, eyes once more trained on the road, his voice rougher as he said, "No, I... I don't. Where's this place, Graveswood?"
Rowan sat back in her seat, ignoring the weird twist in her stomach as she looked out the window, squinting into the darkness outside.
"Take a right here."
Steve did so, frowning in puzzlement, listening to Rowan as she lead him to the woods. Once they did, she said, "Stop."
Steve did, parking the car. The engine idled as the BMW's headbeams sliced the darkness, illuminating the stretch of trees beyond.
"Uh, this isn't creepy at all," Steve noted sarcastically, but Rowan ignored him, opening the car door.
"Come on, Harrington," she said, tramping up to the woods, ignoring how he stared at her like she'd lost her mind.
