I ate lunch with Johnathan, and thankfully, Steve didn't try and come over to me. I stared blankly into the courtyard from the hood of Johnathan's car, slowly nibbling away at a sandwich. "Are you okay?" Johnathan asked me out of the blue. "Yeah," I answered, not looking at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Look," he said. "They just found my brother dead. I know your brother died, and I know when someone isn't okay. You connect the dots." I looked at him with slight surprise. "You should apply for a job at the police station. You're a pretty good detective, Johnathan." He shrugged.
"Whatever. Wanna talk about it?" he attempted, his voice trailing off. I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, didn't figure that would work."
There was another long silence, until Johnathan spoke up again. "How did your brother die?" he asked. I was taken aback at the audacity of the question, and I just sighed. "I would say sorry, but I'm not." I nodded in understanding.
"I was supposed to drive him to school. This was before I became a living zombie and heavy smoker. My parents thought maybe my quiet rebelliousness was just a phase at that point," I said, chuckling to myself. "They were dead wrong. Anyway, I was supposed to drive Mike to school, but I was running late and I didn't want to. I told him to walk to school, and hurry, because the bell would ring soon, and he was only in middle school, and that drunk driver was forty years old, and I wished I would've drove him, and if I did maybe he'd still be here, maybe—"
"I'll stop you there," Johnathan said, resting a hand on my shoulder. I was crying. I hugged Johnathan involuntarily, and he patted my back until I could breathe normally. "Thanks," I said, wiping my nose. "I've been quite the crybaby lately." "I think that's warranted, considering your situation," he assured me, offering a comforting smile. I returned it, and I fished my half-empty pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and slipped one between his fingers. "We need it."
__
In Geometry, we had a new seating chart, and the teacher decided on a whim to sit Steve next to me. Three days earlier and I would've been excited. Now I was just irritated.
Steve took his seat reluctantly, and said, "Hey, Lola." I grunted in reply. "Look, I know you don't owe me any favors, but I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell Nancy that I went to your house yesterday." "Fine."
He sighed loudly. "I'm sorry that you and Nancy had a fight this morning. I should've said something." I shook my head. "No, you would've made it worse. You did right by just staying out of it." He drummed his fingers in the table quickly, the stopped, smacking his hand flat against the table. He laid his head down defeatedly.
"I want to be friends. I just feel like we should hang out or something?" He phrased it as a question, his brown eyes flicking up to my face to see how I'd react. I looked down at him, and his eyes darted away. I felt obligated to say yes. "Okay," I responded shortly. He smiled, and I couldn't help but smile back.
"What should we do?" Steve asked me, and I shrugged. "Oh, come on," he said. "There's gotta be something." I shook my head. "I honestly don't know."
"Fine," he sighed. "I guess it'll be a surprise." "I guess it will."
Class went by slowly, as it usually did, and when Steve and I parted ways, he told me he'd be outside of my house at 6. I nodded, and I met Nancy at my locker to walk to English.
"So, what's it like to date Steve Harrington?" I asked Nancy dramatically, She rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't know. We've only been together for three days." "True."
Nancy suddenly looked uncomfortable. "So, uh, are you coming to Will's funeral tomorrow?" I looked at her sadly. I hadn't even thought of going to a funeral for him, even though he was dead. "Pretty sure I am," I sighed quietly. "I mean, everyone is town's probably going, right?" She nodded and I laid my hand over hers.
"It's gonna be okay," Nancy said weakly. "I really don't think so, Nance," I whispered, laying my head on her shoulder.
__
My parents were working late, which was probably because of me. I left a note on the table that said I went to study at Nancy's, and I went up to my room to get ready.
There wasn't much variety in my closet. Mostly t-shirts and jeans, with one black dress. I sorted through the clothes, some on hangers but most on the floor. I decided on a Pink Floyd t-shirt, mostly because it was the least wrinkled pick. I decided just to leave my jeans on, and I grabbed my denim jacket off the back of my desk chair, because it had started getting cold at night.
I looked at the clock, and it was a quarter to six, but I heard a car horn outside. I stuck my head out the window, and Steve's car was parked on the other side of the street. "You're early," I muttered to myself, swinging down the stairs and out the door, the note I'd left fluttering in the sudden gush of air.
