"Shine so bright that it burns their eyes."
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Luna Hopper, a 17 year old sophomore at Hawkins High, wants nothing more than to finish high school and move away from the small town she's forced to call home. Her cold demeanor and standoffish nature h...
Steve slowly kneels up above a bush in the mall, holding binoculars over his eyes while Dustin and I crouch down next to him. I'm back in my uniform today, but my braids are a little messier since I did them in the car. I didn't want to stay in my house any longer than I had to this morning since my dad got completely hammered last night after being stood up by Joyce.
So much for no alcohol in the house, huh?
"You see anything?" Dustin asks.
"Uh, I guess I don't totally know what I'm looking for," Steve responds.
"Evil Russians," I say as if it's obvious.
He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, exactly. I don't know what an evil Russian looks like."
"Tall, blond, not smiling," Dustin lists off. "Basically a male Luna."
"Maybe look for earpieces," I add. "Camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing."
"Right, okay, duffel bags..." Steve trails off. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me."
"What?" Dustin and I ask hurriedly.
"Anna Jacobs's talking with that meathead Mark Lewinsky."
"No way. Let me see," I take the binoculars from steve with a gasp and he points me in the direction.
"Okay, if you're not gonna focus, just give me the binoculars," Dustin says, impatiently.
I continue to scowl at the sight. "Ugh, Jesus Christ, whatever happened to standards?" I pull the binoculars down and look at Steve. "I saw him pick his nose once in freshman english. Guess what he did. He licked his finger," I whispered the last part and Steve gags.
"You two are the worst spies in history, you know that?" Dustin takes the binoculars from my hands and looks through them himself. "Besides, I don't even know why you guys care about all that drama crap. It's so immature. Even I'm over it."
"I swear, if you call us immature one more time..." Steve trails off.
"Immature, immature, immature, immature," Dustin repeats over our protests.
I finally push him over and take the binoculars for myself again. "We're not immature, you asswipe."
"I'm just saying," Dustin stresses as he sits back up. "Now that you're adults, and Steve's out of high school, don't you guys think it's time for you to move on from primitive constructs such as popularity?"
