Ringo Wheeler had enough problems - she was named after a member of a band she doesn't even like, she can't find her favourite record in any store along the East Coast and she pissed her parents off enough to be shipped to Indiana.
Now, she has a ne...
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STEVE HARRINGTON DIDN'T OFTEN GET NERVOUS, but it was just another new development that Ringo had brought to his life. Anxiously, he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, eyes glancing back and forth between the road and the roses that were settled on the passenger seat.
He had been out with Ringo before so many times, but this was different. This time, they would be going on an official date.
Steve had fretted all day over their plans - whether she wanted to go to a restaurant or if she even would feel uncomfortable with that. In the end, he settled for a picnic that he personally prepared (meaning sandwiches and cans of coke).
Ringo was far more difficult to take out than any other girl he had ever dated. She didn't go wide-eyed over expensive jewellery and fancy restaurants, he knew that a girl like Ringo Wheeler only ever wanted something meaningful - not just something pretty and costly.
The roses he decided he simply had to include, for she herself had said she never was truly treated well by any previous guys she was with. Steve intended to break that cycle today.
Elsewhere, a couple of blocks away, Dustin was similarly eagerly making his way towards Ringo Wheeler's home. Instead of a car, he rode on the back of his bike as fast as he could, desperate to enlist the girl's help with his hellish new pet.
It seemed logical he would choose to ask for her help - his own friends, including Jonathan and Nancy, were M.I.A. as of late.
The second he reached her apartment building he practically flung his bike into the grass after hopping off of it, praying that she would be home. If it had been a less stressful situation, he would have been happy to see the girl as his crush remained undying. But there was no time for that today.
Steve happened to arrive, conveniently, at the same time as Dustin. Except he didn't even notice the younger boy, too preoccupied with checking his hair in the rear view mirror and rehearsing what he would say to Ringo.
"Would you, Ringo, do me the pleasure of escorting-" he cut himself off with an eye roll, finally looking away from the mirror and reaching for the door handle. "Jesus, what am I? A hundred years old?"
As he rounded the car, the sight of the tall, fluffy haired teenager stopped Dustin in his tracks - excitedly so.
"Steve!" He yelled, jogging towards him just as he reached the steps to the entrance.
Steve slowed down considerably, but continued up until he was at the door, looking at the Henderson boy in confusion.
"What?" He asked, the bouquet of roses clutched in hand.
