There's just something about the past. Sometimes, the worst parts catch up with you and other times, it is supposed to meet you again. Maybe what we think has left our lives actually belongs in our souls forever.
***
Steve Harrington x fem original...
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CHAPTER TWENTY NINE Leela
POSSIBLY ONE OF THE WORST THINGS I HAD TO DO in Cali was get a job with Argyle in the local shitty pizza place. Not only did Argyle get stoned out the back and completely desecrate the pizzas he made, I had to be put on every shift with him, as my dad still didn't trust me behind a car, he was my only way to work and I had to be "supervised" by someone. I had no idea why in the hell my family thought "yeah, let's put Leela with Argyle", the town idiot. I'd be safer with a literal child. I felt suffocated. I was practically handcuffed (not in the literal sense) to Argyle and none of this would even stop anytime soon.
As I helped roll the pizzas out, I heard the phone ring. Argyle quickly picked up. I felt sorry for the person on the other end of the phone who would have to deal with his endless word vomit, and given the stench of weed coming strongly from his clothing, it told me he had smoked recently, which meant he would most definitely yap on forever.
"Surf's up. Surfer Boy Pizza, this is Argyle speaking. We make everything fresh here at Surfer Boy except for our pineapple, which comes from a can..."
Yeah, no shit Sherlock.
"But I still highly recommend slapping some juicy pineapple on your pie. Oh, fruit on pizza's gnarly you say?—"
I snatched the phone off Argyle. "For the love of god, Argyle. This poor person just wants to order some goddamn pizza, not listen to you jabber on about pineapple, which, by the way, doesn't belong and will never belong on pizza."
I wrote down the order of the person while Argyle looked at me like the stoned idiot he was. After taking the address, I hung up and turned to Argyles.
"This is Jonathan's address is it not?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "Who was the man that answered the phone?"
"I don't know, man," Argyle replied, rubbing his eyes. "Maybe he's from the moon."
I passed the order to one of the other cooks then turned to Argyle again. "I'm being serious. Why can't Jonathan order pizza for himself?"
Argyle looked at me with a massive fucking grin and I felt like kicking him to the other side of the Pacific Ocean.
"I'm delivering this pizza," I said sternly to Argyle. "I don't care what you say."
"Nuh-uh. Not to my van," he responded stubbornly. "You aren't going anywhere in Petunia, duuude."
I glared at him. "You named your van Petunia? Really Argyle?"
