The One || Steve Harrington

The Case of the Missing Lifeguard

Somehow, Georgia beat her father home even after giving Robin a ride and picking up the pizza she promised, which was odd because he'd made a habit of coming home between six and seven o'clock each night. He rarely worked the night shift these days, not anymore.

When he said he'd be better eight months ago, he meant it.

Only upon Max and Eleven vowing to save her two slices of cheese did she hop in the shower and then call Steve just so he knew she made it home safe.

For the first time in a while, she was tempted to call Nancy. Fear that she wouldn't pick up, or worse, that she wouldn't want to talk, was overwhelming enough to outweigh the temptation.

Eleven sat on her bed, sifting through a teen magazine, Max was dancing to the stereo, and Georgia opted for the beanbag chair, reading one of the novels Robin gave her.

"I can't believe you dumped him," Georgia said, unable to help the small laugh that escaped her.

Poor Will, he'd have to hear Mike moan and complain until they got back together.

They would eventually. She was pretty sure the two loved each other: young love and all.

She just hoped the space would give Eleven more time to learn who she was outside of him. Space was healthy.

"Now she can focus on Ralph Macchino," Max laughed, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Who?" Eleven asked, and Max reached for the magazine, flipping to the page. Georgia watched in amusement as Eleven seriously studied the image. "Macchino?"

"Yeah," Max nodded, "he's the Karate Kid."

Eleven turned and looked at Georgia, silent, asking if she'd seen the movie. Georgia shook her head. She'd pick it up from the video store this weekend.

"He's so hot, right?" Max said. "I bet he's an amazing kisser, too."

Georgia laughed as she watched the two girls interact. What a relief it was that the two were finally friends.

She wanted nothing more than for Eleven to have a normal life and get to experience normal teenage things. She deserved it more than anyone she knew. All the kids in the party did.

Max sat on the bed with her back against the pillows.

"Is Mike a good kisser?" Max asked curiously, and Georgia's face crinkled. She didn't want to hear the answer.

Every member of the party would always be a kid to her, no matter how old they were.

"I don't know," Eleven answered innocently. "He's my first boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend," Max reminded, and she turned to Georgia, her eyes zeroing in on the girl, mid-pizza bite. "How many boys have you kissed?" Max asked curiously.

"Three," she answered honestly. "The first in eighth grade, the second at a party in freshmen year, and then Steve."

The two before Steve meant nothing romantically to her. She was still friends with one of them.

"And which was the best?" she pressed a wide smirk across her face.

Eleven turned sharply on the bed, her eyes boring into Georgia, awaiting her answer.

"Obviously, Steve," Georgia laughed, setting the book down. "Your first kiss is almost always terrible. The second was alright. Steve's...he's Steve. So obviously, he's much better."

Eleven's spirit dampened at her admittance, obviously thinking of Mike moving on from her. Perhaps she thought someone's first relationship wasn't meant to work.