eternal flame - s. harrington

Chapter 1: Tardy Boy and a Disappointing Father

I was sitting down at my desk, getting some homework out of the way as my eyes repeatedly shifted from the textbook to my watch.

Six thirty. He was supposed to be here at six.

I sighed deeply as I pressed my forehead against the textbook before hearing a car pull up to my driveway. I looked outside from the window, and saw my study partner get out of his car.

I seethed as I got up from my chair and stormed to the front door and opened it. He was already standing at the door, just about to knock.

"Oh. Hey.", he said coolly. I rolled my eyes and tapped my watch, "How nice of you to show."

"Huh? I'm not late, am I?", he grinned. "We agreed you'd come over at six, Harrington. That's six o'clock on the dot. Not thirty after. Now we only have half an hour to do the assignment.", I fumed. Steve shrugged and put his hands in his pockets, "Alright, so, let's not waste it.", he sassed. I narrowed my eyes and glared at him for a few seconds before he spoke again, "Can I come in?"

I sighed and stepped out of the way, opening the door some more to let him in. Steve stepped inside the house, stopped on his tracks and looked around the living room. I closed the front door and leaned against it, looking at Steve as I waited for some snotty comment from him.

"Cozy.", he said.

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah. A humble hut compared to the mansion you probably live in.", I muttered as I crossed my arms and he turned to look at me. "Why the attitude?", he smirked. I shrugged, "Let's just say I'm not completely pleased with this situation.", I replied nonchalantly as I made my way in to the kitchen where he followed me.

"Ah yes... This must be your worst nightmare. Having to study with me. Must be dragging down your grades a lot.", he said. "Actually, it probably is.", I said as I opened the fridge, "Anything to drink?"

He shook his head, "I'm good. So... Are we going to your room, or what?"

I felt my eyes widen. "Um... No?", I replied. He looked a bit surprised. "Okay. So, where are we studying, then?", he asked. "In here, I guess.", I said as I pointed at the breakfast table. He sat down and placed his textbook down at the table.
I sat down across from him and did the same.

I checked my watch again. Six thirty-five.

"You in a rush, or something?", Steve asked as he noticed I was looking at my watch. I turned my head up to look at him. "Dinner plans.", I said and opened my textbook. "Oh. With who?", he asked.
I could see from his expression that he was suggesting something.

"With my father. I have dinner with him every Wednesday. It's been that way since I was twelve.", I said quickly before changing the subject, "Now let's get to work, okay? I don't have all day."

"Neither do I...", he said in a sing-songy voice as he opened his textbook as well. I ignored him and we began working on the assignment we'd been paired up for, against all odds.

About fifteen minutes passed before he got bored and grabbed my notebook to look at.

Grace Byers — English Lit Class, was written on the cover of the notebook.

"Question.", he said and I turned my head up from the paper to look at him. "Why is your last name Byers?", he asked. "Excuse me?", I responded. He put down the notebook, "I mean, you're not really a Byers, right?"

I felt the blood rush into my cheeks, and I was probably turning red. "It's none of your business.", I said. "Oh, come on, Grace.", Steve huffed, "Everyone knows that Hopper is your dad. I was just wondering why you don't have his last name, that's all. No need to be so defensive."

I took a deep breath, "My mom wanted me to have the same last name as my brothers, so she changed it to Byers when she married my ex step-dad.", I explained, "Now, can we focus?"

He spun his pencil around in his hand. "What was your last name before that?", he questioned. I rolled my eyes, "Maldonado! My mom's maiden name! Can we please, please focus?!", I snapped. He looked a bit taken aback and slowly put his hands up in defence, "Okay. Jeez...", he muttered underneath his breath as we got back to work.

It was now seven on the dot. My dad would pick me up any minute, so I needed to get Harrington out of my house before that.

"Okay, that's enough for now.", I said and got up from my chair. He looked up at me, "You sure?"

I nodded, "Yes, yes, whatever, I'm sure. If it's not good then I'll just finish the paper and put both of our names in it.", I said in a rushing tone which he picked up on and got up. I walked him to the front door. "Kicking me out so early?", Steve smirked as I opened the door for him. "Well, maybe you should've showed up on time, and you would've had thirty more minutes to spend with me!", I nagged. "Ah, yes, my biggest regret. I'm sure we would've had a blast.", he said sarcastically. "Oh, I'm sure.", I matched his tone as he walked out.

Once Steve left, I went into my room to grab my coat and my purse. Dad would be picking me up any minute now to take me to Benny's, where we'd gone to almost every week for years now.

I sat down at the couch, waiting to see his car pull up to the driveway. After five minutes, nothing. Maybe he's running late — he must have some work thing to take care of first. Then fifteen minutes, still nothing. Okay... Maybe he ran out of gas? I'm sure he'll show up any second now. Thirty minutes, still no sign of him.

I got up from my seat which I'd been sitting on for half an hour and walked to the phone. I dialed his number and pressed the receiver against my ear. It rang a couple of times.

"Hi, you've reached Jim. I'm probably doing something incredible—"

Voicemail... He must be at work, I thought. So I dialed the number of the station and listened as the phone rang a few times before someone picked up.

"Hawkins PD, Florence speaking."
– "Hey, it's Grace Byers—"
"Oh, hi sweetheart. What can I do for you?"
– "Is Hopper in? I tried to call him, but..."
"Oh, I'm afraid not... He's, um–... Very busy, at the moment... Would you like to leave a message?"

I could hear from Florence's hesitation that something was off. She was a very loyal friend to my father, but she could never lie to me. I stayed quiet for a while before speaking.

"Is he drinking again?", my voice trembled. Florence was quiet for a while, before letting out a deep sigh which answered my question completely.

"Listen, sweetheart—"
– "Thanks, Florence. I'll call him tomorrow.", I said as my voice quivered and I hung up the phone.

He didn't show up. He chose drinking over me.

I knew he was still grieving Sara, which I completely understood. I had been mourning the loss, too. I was heartbroken when he told me I had a little sister who passed away, and I never got to meet her.

I would never be angry at him for grieving. Never.
I always understood. I just wished he didn't find more comfort in the bottle than me.

I just wanted him to be there.