Over the years nightmares have been a frequent friend in the Hopper house. Chills and a scream lodged in the back of her throat is the only way that Christine Hopper knows how to wake up. Her father tries hard to believe his daughter has a handle on...
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Chris jolts awake, tensing up as her eyes register her surroundings. Books and notebooks litter the floor. Pages ripped out of novels and posters are pinned to the walls. The light blue sheets of her tiny twin bed are barely covering her. Chris shivers, nearly hanging off the edge of her bed. She mumbles out a curse word and rolls over.
"Steve!" she shouts in surprise.
Steve rolls on his side, turning away from Chris. He's wrapped up in the sheets, clearly oblivious to the fact that he's trying to share a twin bed with someone. He's also oblivious to the fact that he spent the night when he wasn't supposed to.
"Steve," Chris hisses, smacking his shoulder. "You fell asleep. Come on. You have to get up. We have to go to school."
Steve moans something into the pillow, his brown hair covering his head. Chris gets out of the bed, cold goosebumps rise on her exposed body. She quickly grabs a sweater and sweatpants off the floor. Chris grabs the end of the sheets and yanks on them hard, revealing a half-naked Steve Harrington.
The telephone on the wall rings, saving Chris from Steve's wrath. She walks into the kitchen, answering the phone. "Hello."
"Hey. Chrissie. You didn't come last night."
Chris inhales quietly, leaning in so Steve won't hear. "Yeah, uh, sorry. Something came up with Ronnie and—and I stayed at the trailer. I, uh, should've called..." she lies.
"Look, I understand you want to keep up with appearances, but you should be here."
"I know, Dad. I'm sorry." Chris shakes her head, watching as Steve leans against the doorframe of her bedroom. He's lean and taller than her, but he stares at her with soft brown eyes.
"We need you here, Chrissie."
"I know," she replies, huffing. Steve notices her irked expression and comes up behind her. He wraps his arms around her waist. Chris, who shied away from his touch last year, leans against his chest. "I'll be there tonight."
"All right. I gotta go—"
"'Bye." Chris hangs up the phone. Steve lifts her up, causing her to squeal in shock. "Hey!"
He leads her to the bathroom, carrying her in his arms with ease. "What are we doing?"
"Showering." Steve winks. "It'll warm us both up."
Chris smiles, feeling all her frustrations disappear. "Oh, brother."
Robert and Ronda Jones, twins, sit on the hood of his car. The sun reflects off the metal, sending some much needed warmth through their skin as the October wind pushes leaves and trash across the high school parking lot. Robbie shakes his head, curly hair bouncing around. It has gotten shaggier since last year, and he looks older now that he'll be graduating in June with his twin sister.
