Flipped: A Steve Harrington Enemies to Lovers

Season 2: MADMAX

Senior year, October, 1984. It seems worlds apart from how you spent last year.

You have friends.

Yes. You.

You have actual friends, besides Robin, who really wish to spend their evening with you.

A year ago, if you weren't at the Buckley house, you would be spending your nights alone in the deafening silence of your apartment. Now, you're in a place you never used to think you'd ever be caught dead in: Steve Harrington's car. Surprisingly not the first time, either.

He picked you up from Jonathan's after you dropped Dustin off to see Will, and parked you all outside the Wheeler house - waiting for Nancy to finish getting ready.

Not everything has changed though... you're sat in the passenger seat, mouth twisted in the foulest of moods, with your knees pointedly facing away from the driver you are pissed off with. You tighten your arms around yourself and look out the window, eyes fixing on the front door of Nancy's, wishing she'd just hurry up already.

You shake your head.

"I'm telling you, it's gonna suck." A baseless opinion, sparked by the fact that tonight was Steve's pick.

He sighs - a long, exasperated breath of a person sick to the back teeth of your gloomy presence, "Oh my God, we've been over this already; it's not going to suck. The trailer actually looks really good!"

You swivel on the spot to face him, arms still folded defensively over your chest.

"Harrington," You seethe. "If I wanted to watch some meat-head running around being boring for hours, I'd come to one of your basketball games."

You narrow your eyes and allow your lips to form a mocking smirk, feeling as though you're winning this latest argument.

He pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, eyes scrunched.

"Honestly? Y/N? Go fuck yourself."

This makes you guffaw in exaggerated fury, "Oh! At least that sounds much more enjoyable than watching Terminator!"

Jonathan winces in the backseat; he hates being left alone with the two of you and wonders why Nancy ever invites him along to these things. The first time it ever happened was her idea, but Steve enthusiastically agreed. You figured it was probably because he was tired of having you around as a third wheel when he just wanted to make out with his girlfriend in the back of the theatre. You remember the sheer, wrenching feeling of cringe seizing your stomach when he joked about you and Byers hooking up so these evenings would officially become double dates. You also remember that despite both your horrified and sickened responses to this comment, Nancy turned beet-red and barely spoke to Steve for the rest of the night, or you for that matter. While you would never say it aloud, you think you know why she reacted in this way.

"Come on, you guys. Not now." Byers slumps with his hands awkwardly clasped between his knees. You feel sorry for him, empathising with the discomfort he's probably feeling - considering you're in company with the boy who used to bully you both senseless. But he's making amends for that, you hope.

You regard him in the rear-view, "Sorry, dude." Then, your attention shifts to Steve who's irritably tapping the steering wheel with a thumb. "Fine. I'll come along and watch the damn movie. But when it inevitably sucks, you owe me a popcorn."

"Ugh, deal!" He spits. "Now fix your face. Nancy will be out soon and you know she's been acting weird lately; I don't want you spoiling her night by sulking up the place."

"There's nothing wrong with my face."

He leans in to gruffly lower his voice, "Oh, trust me, there's plenty wrong with your face right now. Heard of a mirror? 'Cause you look like you've been eating a bunch of lemons."