Flipped: A Steve Harrington Enemies to Lovers

The Lost Sister

Steve tilts his shades down his nose to get a clearer view of the junkyard, squinting against the ochre sunset that settles over the rusty carcasses of old cars. Then, he nods to you and Dustin.

"Oh yeah," He says. "Yeah, this will do."

Trudging down towards the abandoned bus, he slaps an agreeable palm to Dustin's shoulder when he passes.

"This will do just fine; good call, dude."

The compliment makes Dustin physically bristle, thrilled to have impressed the older, much cooler boy. He turns to you, eyes shining with pride and you award him a knowing wink.

After, you clumsily tip remnants of souring beef onto the ground with a slosh; its potency makes you want to heave, but your ears prick to another, familiar, pre-pubescent voice before you can.

"I said medium-well!"

Lucas. He stands from afar and waves his arms at you, his big friendly smile glittering in the sunshine. Beside him, awkwardly shifts a familiar red-headed girl, the one that sniffed back reluctant tears in Billy's car the other day. What was her name again? Maxine?

Great, another kid that's dragged into this fuckery.

You shout, "Lucas Sinclair! Please tell me you've not roped someone else into this mess, too!"

"Sorry, Y/N! I figured we need all the help we can get!" The mischievous boy holds his arms in a wide gesture, offering you an apologetic, yet cheeky grin.

Steve returns to your side, looking ahead at the three precocious children, then inches round to you with curious eyes.

"How many kids do you have?" He smirks.

"Too many," You mutter before cocking a thumb to the newbie. "Who is that, Dustin?"

The boy doesn't reply, though his eyes dance between Lucas and the girl and how close they stand next to one another. Then, he flushes red and looks down at his feet with the look of a kicked puppy.

It clicks.

"Oh."

***

You and the girl Maxine, or Max as she prefers, busy yourselves with lugging giant sheets of metal to form a makeshift barricade. Leaning them precariously against an abandoned bus that will tonight serve as your base, you huff and snap a band of sweat from your forehead off your finger.

It's silent for a while, save for the occasional grunts from either one of you two, absorbed in the task at hand.

Then, you finally acknowledge the quiet girl whose face seems to twist with the same harshness yours did at her age.

"So..." You begin. "You're Billy's little sister, right?"

"Unfortunately."

"Damn, that's heavy."

This remark softens her defense a little, making her feel comfortable enough to offer you a quirked brow and scrutinising squint against the brightness of the blue skies.

"And I guess you're his latest squeeze?" She smirks.

You snort, "Now, now. I wouldn't go that far."

"Oh, good." A faint smile ticks up on the corner of her mouth - a clear chink in her armour.

You'd be surprised that she's not singing her brother's praises, if you hadn't witnessed her puffy eyes and brine-sallowed cheeks the first time you met.

"I'm guessing there's no sisterly love there at all?" You press.

"Nope," She tuts in nonchalance, having eased up with you that little bit more. "I know he's my brother and all, but he's a dick. Any girl would be better off staying away from him."