Stranger Things 4 (Billy Hargrove) | ON HOLD

CHAPTER THREE. STEVE HARRINGTON AND THE NEW GIRL.

CHAPTER THREE.  STEVE HARRINGTON AND THE NEW GIRL.

September 11, 1986
The next night came fast.  A whole 24 hours sped by, not that I was doing much throughout the day, but time still managed to escape me.  Before I knew it, it was seven o'clock at night, and I was sitting on the couch waiting for Steve to arrive at the front door. 

"He better not be late," my dad grumbled, his arm around my shoulder loosely as he sat next to me.  I fumbled with the hem of my faded purple tie-dye t-shirt, sighing lightly.  I couldn't decide if I was more nervous about hanging out with Steve alone, when I had only met him the night before, or if I was more nervous about the possibility of having and unpleasant confrontation with Billy.

Nonetheless, the doorbell rang, echoing throughout our house, and a knock sounded on the door.  I looked up at my dad, who was already rushing to the door, putting on an intimidating scowl as he reached his hand out to the rusted doorknob.  I immediately rushed up next to him, putting my hand on the doorknob, too.

"Dad, don't be scary and mean to him," I said with a pout, looking up at him.

"I'm just showing him who's boss," my dad defended, trying to move my hand off of the doorknob so he could have the upper hand. 

"Dad," I warned, my fingers pinching his hand lightly, "you're going to make this awkward for everyone."

"Good," he said with a  triumphant grin, "then he won't ever try to ask you out again."

I glared at him, pinching his hand harder.  He let out a grunt, removing his hand from the doorknob and rubbing it.  I took this as my chance and pushed him away from the door.  Before he could argue, I flung open the front door with an exasperated sigh. 

Steve jumped back in shock, his eyes widening at the impact of the door hitting the side of the wall.  He regained his composure quickly, flashing me a smile, and holding up a small bouquet of flowers.  "Hi."

"Hi," I breathed out, panting slightly from the force I had to use to open the door.

"Hi," my dad interjected, moving to stand in front of me.  "Are these for me?"

Steve let out a small laugh, reaching up to run a hand through his dark, long slicked back hair.  He was about to speak up, when I tried to shove my dad out of the way.  I grabbed onto Steve's arm, tugging him forward into the house.  His foot caught on the doorway, and he tumbled into my dad's arms.

"Camille, I think your date is here for me instead," my dad cackled, his tough demeanor instantly vanishing.  Steve looked up at him, jolting backwards with a flushed face.

"I - uhm," Steve mumbled, looking down at his plain, white Reeboks. 

"Steve, it's okay," I said, grabbing his arm again, this time slowly leading him into the house.  My dad stood tall over the both of us, holding out his large hand that was covered in dry patches and faded cuts. 

"Hi, Mr. Parker, I'm Steve Harrington," the boy said, shaking his hand while sporting a sheepish grin.  His cheeks were still flushed a soft red color, but I'm sure I looked the exact same way from the second-hand embarrassment I was experiencing.

"I know who you are kid," my dad shook his hand forcefully with a mocking twinkle in his eyes, "my daughter would not shut up about you all night yesterday."

"Dad!" I yelled, slapping his arm playfully, my face heating up even more, "Please."

He leaned in to hug me, picking me up and twirling me around, yelling at the top of his lungs, "My daughter has a crush!"