The Reason I Can't Help But Love You.

Naked Bigfoot

After about 15 minutes of dozing off on the bottom step of the ladder and rambling about the evolution of the Beatles, I got nudged and suddenly Steve's butt was in my face. "EW! Put that thing away !" I said as I looked up to see jeans coming towards me.

"I'm trying to come down!" He says with a tone. "Well, I'm trying to sleep. Plus there's another side. Wait, shit what time is it?" I ask realizing and standing up to grab at his watch.

"Probably time for us to leave." He says with a hand on his hip as he reaches the bottom. "Us?" I ask as I straighten and stretch. "Well, you did wait on me, did you not?" He asks as he wipes his hand off with the rag.

"Nah, I simply had nothing to do but hold the ladder for the worker guy when he left," I say as I walk off. "Right, whatever you say doll."

I whip back around from my walk, "Try calling me that again, doll."

His face doesn't move but instead nods. I nod and throw his jacket at him as we get in the van. "Jesus, did you toke?" He asks. "Never." I reply as I move the stick.

"Is that why you have sunglasses on?!?" "Sun hurts my eyes." "ITS NIGHT?!" "Moonlight is from the sun." I reply cheekily smiling. Ignoring his annoyance, I put in a Jefferson Starship Spitfire and blasted it. "HELLO?!" He yells over the music as I squeal my tires while pulling out.

The windows were down, wind blowing not only my hair but Harrington's 'perfect' mop. To which he gave me a grimace. After a little traveling, I turn down the music and ask, "You still live down Burberry?"

"Uh, actually do you know where the Byers live? Should be closer than my house around here." He thinks hard before spitting it out.

I look over at him, "Okay yeah. Why do you need to go there? I don't particularly think anyone is begging to hand you an invitation there right now."
"It's not like that." He began to explain. "I'm sure," I reply shortly.

"Can we stop with the head up the ass stuff?" "Just reflecting your personality." "Then why did you help me?" I groan annoyed as I push my sunglasses finally back on my head.
"Harrington, I didn't do that out of the 'goodness' of my heart. That was my impulsiveness jumping at the opportunity to mess with assholes. You being one. So don't for one second think that this is anymore than a coincidence. Kay?"
I lied through my teeth trying to convince both of us.

He nods silently.

The next couple of minutes are silent, zoned out until I swerve a hard left onto the road leading to the Byers residence. The sharp turn caused my glove box to open. I quickly reach over and shut it.

Steve's interest piques. "You still listen to Bowie?" I feel those Hazel eyes on me again.
Tension pricks at my chest, then defense.
"Of course, anyone in their right mind. Or more realistically, wrong mind does."

He snickers before looking back up at me as we reach closer to the house, "and Fleetwood Mac?"
My heart clenches at the mention of our past. I look back at him as I remember how cruel he is. What had transpired.  "None of your business, Harrington."

I put the Van in park harshly causing him to jerk forward against his seatbelt.

"Now, I'm gonna let you pull your dumbass apology shit, you have a minute starting now.  Then I'm coming up there."

He nods and gets out. I watch him walk up to the porch and allow myself to get distracted by my dashboard and the Sharpie I have in my cup holder.  I uncap it and start to doodle a design until I jump and cause an ugly line the wrong way because of the fucking BANGING.

"JONATHAN?" Steve's voice cracks as he bangs on the door. I palm my face. This fucker claims my head is up my ass, LOOK AT THIS DUDE. I'd come out with a shotgun if I was Jonathan. "Are you there, man? It's... It's Steve!"