"Hey, Rosemary."
"Hey, Dustin."
The young, curly-haired boy grins with no teeth at the drenched girl sprawled on her stomach, sunbathing on the green grass of her front lawn. Next to him, grins another one of his friends - Lucas, she thinks he's called.
She raises them an open palm in a wave, and they wave back between dazed, gawking stares. Awkward and adolescent. Steeped with raging hormones. She just giggles, endeared by their friendliness, and pushes her sunglasses back up her nose.
"Alright, knuckleheads, stop behaving like couple o' fucking perverts." Steve emerges from his house, cajoling the two pre-teen boys into his car. "Hey, Rosie."
"Hey, Steve," the girl responds, running her fingers through slicked-back, wet hair.
The baking heatwave has melted the typically sleepy town of Hawkins into an even deeper slumber, where everything is sticky. The weather holds the kind of stickiness that turns the tarmac to goo and the humidity shimmers in the air. So, for Rosemary, the cool splash of the sprinklers offers a brief respite from the oppressive heat, soothing her senses as she basks in the sun. It doesn't matter she's soaked right through to her bones. Doesn't matter her little sundress is practically see-through, clinging to her body and leaving nothing to the imagination. All that matters is she's comfortable, and her skin can breathe.
Steve registers the way Rosie's dress sticks to her, the hem teasing just below her buttocks. Of course he notices; he's a hot-blooded male after all. His throat gradually works and he walks closer, and when he looks at the bright, white sun backlit on her copper hair, turning it to fire, there's a split second where he wonders if he's seeing an angel.
But Steve's a master at playing it cool, at least to sweet, strange neighbours he used to be mean to.
"Sorry about those two." He cocks his thumb and the two boys make some inconvenienced gesture.
"I don't know what you mean," Rosemary lies to save them from the embarrassment.
Steve's jaw twitches, feeling as though he's truly noticing her for the first time. He's always found her cute, but in that kind of way when you find a ladybug in danger and you want to shield and protect it, with a glass and slip of paper.
But now, with her slender curves hugged by the thin fabric of her soaking dress... Steve struggles to suppress other, unfamiliar sensations. It doesn't help now he's close enough to see the sun has kissed her skin, coaxing out freckles that decorate her nose like a constellation of stars. And the natural blush that blooms across her cheeks. And the delicate, blonde hairs that sporadically tickle the backs of her thighs, climbing up to where the hem of her dress taunts him, just above the perfect curve of her ass he thinks would fit real nice in his two hands.
Shit.
He's a fucking goner.
"Steve! Hurry it up!" Dustin calls from the car. "The movie's gonna start soon!"
"I'm coming!" Steve's voice rings out a bit too aggressively, his attention momentarily diverted. Then, he inches his face back round to this goddess worshipping the weather. "Sorry, gotta run - takin' these two shit-heads to the mall while I've got an interview."
The girl smiles wide at him with her straight, slightly too-big teeth, warm and welcoming and Steve mentally curses the flutter in his stomach.
"An interview, huh?" She questions amusedly.
"Yeah. You know, Starcourt?" He explains. "Gonna be slinging ice-creams, hopefully."
"Oh, well, save me a scoop," Rosemary hums all cool and collected.
"Ha. Yeah. A scoop, sure thing," he titters awkwardly. A total bag of nerves and not in any way like he's ever spoken to her before. "Bye, Ro."
"Bye, Steve," she responds with her rosy lips ticked up in a smirk that sends his heart racing.
He begins to question, does she even know what she's doing to him right now?
No, no. Surely not. This is Rosemary he's talking about.
She's just the weird girl next door.
Steve slams his car door shut, sinking into the stifling heat of his leather seats. With one hand keeping an iron grip on the wheel, he tries to anchor himself to reality, the pressure on his bones a distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind. Thoughts about his half-naked neighbour, who's now kicked her legs up behind herself, blissfully unaware, and humming along to Bananarama's Cruel Summer on her radio.
In the rearview mirror, he catches sight of the boys on the backseat, grinning from ear-to-ear as they bristle with an unbridled, nervous energy.
"Dude, Rosemary is hot," Lucas offers.
"Like, crazy hot," Dustin agrees, matching Lucas' enthusiasm.
Steve scoffs in disbelief.
And he attempts to protest, spluttering, "Gross, man! She's my neighbour; we practically grew up together."
He scrunches up his face in feigned disgust, though fails miserably at being convincing. Because he's unable to muster even a shred of self-restraint, and risks another fleeting glimpse at Rosemary lounging in her garden. A line forms between his brows as they pinch, his expression growing pained.
"Exactly. She's your hot, next-door neighbour," Dustin persists. "Isn't that, like, every guy your age's fantasy?"
"What do you even know about fantasies?"
"I'm 13, Steve, I'm not stupid." The Henderson boy folds his arms over his chest. "I'd just feel better knowing that I'm going to Camp Knowhere, without leaving you behind like some lonely sad-sack all summer."
"It's sad-sap, not sad-sack. Think I'm really gonna take advice from a kid who can't even nail basic slang?"
"Whatever, you should just suck it up and ask her out."
Lucas nods emphatically along. But Steve only groans and rolls his eyes.
"Hey, hey. Can we focus, please?" He demands despite flushing hotly. "You've got a movie to get to, and I've got an interview to ace. So stop trying to distract me just because you can't handle your new, disgusting teenage hormones."
Grumbling to himself and turning the key in the ignition, the car roars to life, and Steve pulls away from the curb. But as he drives off, he steals one last secret glance in the mirror, watching Rosemary and her perfect form recede from view, a pang of longing tugging at his heart.
YOU ARE READING
Love Grows: Steve Harrington's Girl Next Door
Fanfiction"God, you're fucking pretty," he blurts. "Funny," she utters. "Was gonna say the exact same thing about you." ________________________________________ Steve Harrington never really gave Rosemary much of a thought. Why should he? She's just the weird...
