FIXATION

TEN

TEN: THE FREIGHT OF DART
november 4th, 1984

"Ugh, this stinks."

"Oh whatever, it's just meat."

Rosalie tugged on her yellow gloves, and cringed before dropping the buckets of meat on the ground. She glanced at Dustin who was talking into his headset. His hands were on his hips and he had a smug look on his face, a look that peaked Rosalie's curiously and took her mind of the rancid smell of raw meat.

"Well, when you were having sister problems, Dart grew again," while Dustin spoke she wondered which friend he was speaking to with such a bitter tone, "he escaped and I'm pretty sure he's a baby Demogorgan."

"Hand me your bat," Steve tapped Rosalie's leg from where he kneeled against the floor. He had been organizing their supplies while Rosalie eavesdropped. Once her focus was back, she handed him her bat. He glanced at the bottom of the handle with a small grin, "I don't think carving your initials into the bottom was necessary, Rose.. our bats have pretty distinctive differences." In his voice, she could tell he was only half-joking with her.

She rolled her eyes and set her hands on her hips, biting back her witty argument. But before she could match his sarcasm, a screech from Dustin's headset caused her to stop in her tracks. 

"Wait, what?" The boy's shocked gasp came from the other end of Dustin's radio.

Dustin quickly added, "I'll explain later. Meet me and Steve at the old junkyard."

Rosalie scratched the back of her head. "Uh.. why is he inviting another kid to this?" She glanced down at Steve who rolled his eyes. "This isn't exactly the safest place for children."

"These little shit heads have been through worse," he glanced up at her after zipping up his backpack quickly. "Believe me."

"And bring your binoculars and wrist rocket," Dustin informed the boy on the other end of the walkie talkie and Steve stood beside Rosalie, shrugging the backpack over his shoulders. She, on the other hand, scoffed with disbelief.

"How's a wrist rocket going to"-

"Rose. Enough with the worrying." He groaned with the shake of his head due to annoyance, "seriously, I can't take it. If you keep this up I'm going to drive you home."

She glared and subtly nodded, "fine.. okay."

"If I knew you were this wound up I would've brought you a joint," he leaned towards hers, eyebrows wiggly while he teased. Rosalie glared at him and nudged her foot into his shin.

"Steve Harrington?" The voice on the other side of the radio was in disbelief. So the kid knew of Steve. And by the sound of it he couldn't believe him and Dustin were in the same breathing vicinity.

"Grab those." He told her nodding at the buckets of meat placed beside the back left tire of his then shut his trunk. "All right. Let's go." He told Dustin who sighed into his headset.

"Just be there, stat. Over and out." Dustin ordered and jogged beside the two. Rosalie blew a loose curl from out of her face and followed Steve as they walked through down the small prairie hill in route of secluded train tracks.

He took his yellow gloves off and fished out a cigarette from his pocket while the small group started to walk on the old set of train tracks, "which one of your shithead friends was that?"

"Lucas." Dustin answered then glared at Steve, "and he's not a shit head."

He simply rolled his eyes, and handed a cigarette to Rosalie. She shook her head and declined, "no, I'm fine. I"-