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For the second time this week, I found myself driving to Steve's house in the middle of the night. Somehow, I got lucky enough to have the most understanding best friend in the world, who is always ready to welcome me into his house at whatever ungodly hour of night that that I happen to stumble there.
His parents are out of town, so I parked my car in the driveway, instead of ditching it down the street like I do when they're home. I turned off the engine to my BMW and propped open the driver side door, pulling a cigarette from the pack in the cup holder and putting it in between my lips. I felt around my pockets for a lighter.
"Fuck," I grumbled to myself, dropping my hands back to my side after not finding one. I restarted the car's battery and pushed in the built-in cigarette lighter. When it popped out to signal that it was ready, I shoved the tip of the cigarette into the hot center of the lighter until it started smoking.
I held the butt of the cigarette in between my index and middle fingers, bringing it up to my lips and took a deep drag, then exhaled the smoke with a strong but shaky breath. I flicked down the sun visor and opened the mirror, checking my face that was still blotchy from my previous tears. "Fantastic." I smacked the visor back up and turned the car off again, then finished my cigarette before grabbing my overnight bag and locked the car. I was still in a shitty mood, but I felt okay enough to face Steve, so I made my way to the front door.
There, I easily found my way inside, using the key that's been hidden under a plant pot since Steve and I were in elementary school as I had countless times before. I walked up the stairs to Steve's room and knocked lightly on the door.
"Yeah," he replied, probably having been expecting my appearance at his house. Behind the door, Steve was lying in his bed on his back with a car catalog on his chest. His hand was still in the pages, looking like he had only just put down the magazine. I hopped on the bed next to him and sat on the edge of the mattress with my legs crossed.
"Are you okay, Suz?" he asked, putting a hand on my knee. I smiled a little and nodded to reassure him. It's always like this. I come over after a fight with my mom and Steve doesn't know how to respond to it. I understand, because he's never experienced anything like it.
"What are you doing?" I asked, motioning my head towards the magazine and he looked down at it.
"My parents are talking about getting me a new car for Christmas. I'm looking at models," he scrunched his nose. "I have no idea what I'm meant to be paying attention to." I laughed and took the magazine from his chest.
"Good thing your best friend does." I laid down next to him and showed him what he should be looking for in a car and we talked for the next hour. We mostly talked about his girlfriend, Nancy because Steve is a love sick puppy.
"When are you going to find yourself a Nancy?" He asked me.
"Well, no offense, Steve but Nancy isn't really my type," I joked and Steve rolled his eyes as I giggled to myself. "I don't know. The selection of guys in Hawkins is so small and I don't think I'd date any of them." I looked up at the ceiling.
