I slowed outside the fence of a big house, the lights off except for the upstairs windows. Nancy looked at the address written on her hand. "Here we are," she sighed. "You're sure you wanna go in?" We both laughed.
I knocked on the door, and I could hear music playing inside. "Is this like a full-out party or what?" I asked Nancy. She didn't have time to reply, because the clean white front door opened, and Steve was behind it, a relieved grin on his face. "You came," he said, more to me than to Nancy.
"Yep," I said, shrugging. He gestured for us to come in, and I marveled at the inside of his house. The rugs alone would buy me and my parents dinner for a month. He rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Yeah, my mom's a little nuts for interior design," he explained, looking around. "If it was up to me, I'd throw half this stuff out."
I nodded, and to save us the awkward silence, Steve opened a set of sliding glass doors onto a backyard. There was a pool, which was casting weird shadows on the cement patio and the chairs next to its edge. Tommy and Carol were making out, again, but they stopped when they heard the door close behind us.
"Zombie Girl!" Tommy greeted me loudly as the three of us approached. "Her name's Lola," Steve snapped, tearing a beer out of the six pack on the ground. "Sorry, Lola," Tommy sang, his voice laced with sarcasm. I didn't complain; I figured it was as much of an apology as I was gonna get.
Steve offered me the beer he had in his hand, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. I took it, and Tommy reached down for something, a pocketknife. "Let's see if Lola can do this," he taunted, poking a hole in the bottom of the can and chugging the drink in about 30 seconds. Carol kissed him sloppily, and I had to turn away.
I took the knife from Tommy and stabbed my own can, downing the beer in almost 15 seconds. "Yeah, Lola can," I panted, crushing my can and throwing it at his feet. Steve did it too, and I raised my eyebrows. "Was that supposed to impress me?" "You're not?" he asked playfully, slipping the cigarette back between his lips. I scoffed and collapsed in a chair next to Nancy.
"Can Little Ms. Perfect do it too?" Tommy wondered aloud, holding out the knife and a can of beer to Nancy. She looked at me worriedly, and I nodded. She grabbed the knife, but cried out, dropping the can and the knife onto the cement, where it clattered into the grass.
"Oh, my God, Nance," I said, springing up from my chair. She tried to staunch the flow of blood with her hand, red washing over her perfect nails. "Um—uh, come on," Steve stuttered nervously. "We have bandaids." She followed him, wincing, and he muttered something about ugly carpet.
I was alone with Tommy and Carol, which was right up there with Chinese Water Torture and A Bed Made Out of Hornets on the list of desirable things. They luckily kept to themselves and I was left to smoke what was left of the cigarette Steve handed me.
After about ten minutes, they came back, Nancy's hand bandaged up excessively. I stood up to see how she was. "Are you okay—" I started, but was cut off when Carol shoved me into the pool.
I surfaced, soaking wet obviously, and I climbed out of the water fuming. "Carol, I swear to God," I growled, flipping my wet hair out of my face. "Oh, come on, Lola," she said. "It was a joke." I shook my hair at her, water flying onto her, and to my delight, she shrieked with horror. "Does that feel like a joke?"
"God, I'm soaked," I groaned, trying in vain to squeeze the water out of my shirt. "Um, I have some dry clothes if you want them," Steve offered. "Sure, whatever," I muttered and followed him into the house.
I followed him upstairs into his room, which was slightly messy. "Sorry for the mess," he apologized briskly. "It's okay," I said. "You should see mine." He laughed slightly, digging through drawers of unfolded clothes.
Finally, he pulled out a green long sleeved shirt and some pajama pants with a black flannel pattern on them. "Probably gonna be a little big, but I think they'll work," he said, handing the bundle of clothes to me. He showed me where the bathroom was so I could change.
His bathroom was pretty clean for a boy's, and there were pictures of a younger Steve and a little kid, probably his brother. I changed into the clothes, and when I exited the bathroom, I saw that Steve had left me to find my way back to the backyard.
When I went back out to the pool, Steve and Nancy were in a deep conversation and Tommy and Carol were doing their own thing. I went over to Nancy, my hair still dripping. "I think I'm gonna head out," I said. "Um, alright," Nancy said. "Steve said he'll take me home later, is that okay?"
I stared at her blankly. Nancy wasn't the type to stay at boys' houses. "Uh, yeah, sure." I faked a smile. "Don't stay out too late," I teased, and I walked out through the back gate, trying not to slam it behind me.
I didn't even know why I was mad. I had no reason to be. If anything, I should be happy that Nancy has a shot with Steve Harrington, of all people. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.
I peeled out of Steve's driveway, eager to get away from the lingering bursts of laughter from the other side of the fence.
sorry this chapter title totally sucks yo
