𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘴 ~ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five:
Douchebag Harrington 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Ramona hummed to herself as she wiped down the counters of Jet City as the raindrops pounded against the diner's windows. The cloudy skies provided a gloomy atmosphere as the hours changed from the evening to the night. A sigh left Ramona's lips as she looked at the flooding streets with one thought on her mind. How the hell was she supposed to bike home in this?

The bell signaling that someone had entered cut through Ramona's peaceful silence. A strike of lightning hit as the glass door shut behind the mystery person. Ramona raised her chin from her hand, lifting her eyes from the floor to look at them. Ramona jumped as the sound of a thunderclap boomed around her the moment her eyes locked with Steve's. "Harrington."

Ramona's voice was quiet as she examined the soaking boy. His jacket clung to his skin and his drenched hair covered his eyes. Droplets of water rolled off of the boy's body and landed with a splash to the tiled floor under his feet.

"García." Steve nodded as a greeting, a shiver shooting down his spine as his body began to shake from the cold.

"You're dripping on the floor." Ramona pointed out. "Why are you wet?"

"What are you, blind?" Steve scoffed, jutting hit thumb towards the window before running his fingers through his drenched hair.

Ramona groaned, tossing the rag onto the towel as she set a glare on him, "Shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down, Harrington."

Steve placed his hand against his chest, shaking his head in mock hurt. "Is that any way to talk to a paying customer?"

"Paying?" Ramona laughed bitterly, "Paying my ass."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve snapped, glaring at her from where he sat.

Ramona snickered in disbelief as Steve began to shake again, "Y-You got any rootbeer float coffee? I'm cold."

"Does this look like a fucking coffee shop to you, Harrington?" Ramona sneered, rolling her eyes as she adjusted her weight from one foot to the other. Steve's face reddened as he grew angrier with the girl.

"Does this look like a coffee shop to you?" Steve mimicked, raising the pitch of his voice to mimic Ramona's voice. 

"Oh, guess what?" Ramona sent him a sarcastic smile as she rose her hand, her voice sickeningly sweet as she spoke,  "I actually have a present for you!"

Steve turned his head to look at her, giving her an unimpressed look as he used the napkins to dry his face. She rose her middle finger, her smile brightening as she tilted her head, "¡Mira! Jódete."

"I hate you." Steve grumbled, crossing his arms and looking away from her.

"Yeah? Well, feeling's mutual, Harrington." Ramona said, anger and annoyance clear in her tone as she walked into the kitchen.

"I take it you two don't get on all that well." The cook mused, looking up from the stove. Ramona nodded, glancing over at Rick.

Rick had become like a father figure to Ramona. He reminded her of her dad, and part of her secretly thought that he was her guardian angel.