✓ | 3. soldier, soldier, spy [STEVE HARRINGTON]

three.

CHAPTER THREE:
SCOOPS AHOY

[ SUZIE, DO YOU COPY? ]

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            U2 were playing in the background when Thomas wandered into Scoops just before closing time that day, still wearing his work uniform but hiding the shirt with a sweatshirt, the blue collar poking out. He didn't like to look so professional in public, especially not at his young age or in Starcourt, where so many people were all dressed so casually. It all just added to the pre-existing feeling of being constantly out of place.

           "If you lean, it's time to clean," he said when he reached the counter.

          Robin, leaning her elbows on it, smiled up at him. "Sorry, Sheriff." Despite the sarcasm, she stood, then shouted toward the back, through the coloured glass window: "Hey, dingus, Thomas is here."

          Steve appeared a moment later, smiling brightly as he popped his head through the door. "Hey! You can come back here, if you want. I'm on break."

          "When isn't he?" Robin murmured.

            Unsure what to think, wondering if it was flirtatious or genuine dislike, Thomas smiled awkwardly, then followed Steve into the back. It was a plain room, the contrast of white walls and boring metal table so dramatic in comparison to the bright blue-and-white colour scheme of the ice cream parlour out front. A couple of freezers sat against the walls, vents kept the tiny room cool, and Steve's lunch was spread across the table: an unwrapped burger from the McDonalds just a few shops over, a large drink and a box of fries.

          "Healthy," Thomas said, watching Steve sit down.

          "Want a fry?"

         Sitting down opposite, he took a few, shovelling them into his mouth.

        "Attractive," said Steve, grinning. "How was work, honey?" His voice was tinged with mocking sweetness.

         Thomas, in an instant flash, thought of Stanley, but said nothing. He hadn't seen the kid all day, and wondered what Hopper had decided to do with him. Tomorrow, he'd ask, he decided; but he'd make it casual, so it wasn't weird. "It was okay," he said, pushing his glasses up the slope of his nose. "Same soup, just reheated."

          Steve chuckled, but there was something sad about it. "Me too."

         "Not how I wanted to be spending summer," said Thomas.