Chapter Text
1886
Spring
The frost has thawed nearly all to puddles and dew. The life of the woods has woken slowly and the men of town have not found any of us. Our kin have been slain, our food has been decimated, our neighbors have stopped singing. The woods need protection from the growing reach of man with their bright fire and loud weapons. We are here to protect the delicate balance man intends to trod through with heavy, leather feet and arms of iron.
Henry
My father brought us to the woods beyond town. He said he came up with the idea, but I know we are leaving because Mother had yelled at him; she thought they were alone, after dinner with grandpa, they had argued. ‘Soft’ Mother said. Soft and sensitive like the skin of a baby. So Father has brought us to wilderness for a week. A week of brawn. He had to prove he was not a soft man, that he had not raised a soft son. In my twelve years, I’ve only ever wanted to learn and read the stories from far off places. But the woods are not a far off place, this is a barren and dull place; it’s dirty and sparse.
“We’re men and manhood should-should go unquestioned, son. To say…”
He gripped hard at the strap over his shoulder, his pack was heavier than anything he would typically carry on any day. My pack is heavy, too, heavier than I would like. But this is part of it, all of the unpleasant parts, Father tells me, are ‘part of it’. He would have me believe I could take to a life in lumber.
“You know, my Pa was in the War…” his words trailed off, but he meant to ask it like a question. Like I didn't know. Like it wasn’t the only thing he visited.
I nodded and carried on with my dragging steps, the sun was too hot for the time of year, the time of day, and yet they carried on. How would a week of this go?
“You gonna answer me?”
His voice has a forced gruffness to it, it’s new. It started once we arrived, and I don’t understand the need to speak differently away from our family, his friends.
“Yes, sir. Yer Pa fought in the States War. Lexington.”
“That’s right.”
With a sigh, I continued, not that he asked, but I could practically hear his thoughts ringing in the air like a bell, “You were too young, and the war ended before you were old enough to join up.”
I can’t tell if he found it confirming to hear it from me, or if he didn’t want to think about it anymore. It likely sent us here, this guilt for not fighting young.
He pointed to a two-floor building now that we had left town, it stood out against the prairie of open space. There were only a handful of buildings in sight, which had to be miles. “We’ve gotta talk with the enforcement folks.”
The wood of the outer walls and doors were unfinished and look like they’d give me splinters. Soft skin. Inside, the wood floors and sturdy walls were darker and behind the counter a lanky man leaned his feet up, boots covering his face, but not his wide-brimmed hat.
“Hello?”
His gruff voice immediately vanished, I could see in his eyes as he remembered.
“Howdy,” the seated man replied, unmoving.
“H-howdy,” he corrected his voice, “Morning Deputy.”
The Deputy rose to stand, slow and unbothered, finally looking up to scan his eyes over them both, Father first with a sideways smile that didn’t feel genuine. One his mother would grip his shoulder with a fierce look to correct. Then his eyes landed on me. I couldn’t help but look right back, would he pity us both? He dropped his head on a tilt, and his sarcasm flew past Father, “Howdy-do mister, and son,” he waggled his fingers in a wave.
“I’m Victor, Victor Creel,” he tapped his own chest, “And this here’s my boy,” for the man who clearly figured that out, “Henry. Say hello to the Deputy,” he indicated with his hand. I nodded once.
“Deputy Connelly, nice to meet you, Henry,” he planted his hands on his hips and bent forward, toward me, “You and your old man gonna try huntin’?”
Why would he ask me? How am I supposed to respond? I don’t understand my Father's plan, I’m not sure what I'm going to do here.
Connelly continued, “Everyone’s tried their chances with the game in these woods,” he picked his teeth and stood upright, he leaned to glance sideways out a window, “But it’s been slim pick'ns for some time now. Most don’t find much all out there, some don’t bother coming back through, figure they keep movin-”
He talks so much. Am I expected to talk like this? Say this much?
I looked at my Father and he mirrored my confusion before he answered, “We’re going to give it a try- Yes, sir!”
Heavy footfalls and metallic clinking sounds announced his arrival before any could lay eyes on him, but Connelly gave way for the large, towering man. He had a mustache that must have been heavy for his frown to be so severe.
“Creel? Any relation to Samwell Creel? The Scot?”
“My uncle, yes, I’m Victor-”
“Mister Creel, little Creel, this is Marshall Jeremiah Hopper-” He was cut off with a whack to the back of his head and Marshall spoke, his voice had the gruffness Father wanted.
“Marshall’s plenty,” and he settled his hands on his waist, propped on his heavily armed belt, “Creel. You’re here for that little property up the way, little shack past the pond, ain’t ya?”
“We sure are, just for the week. Oh, we don’t need any help getting up there.”
And up the way it was. They had gotten a look at a map of the area, the Marshall’s fat finger pointing and dragging along property lines and trails, dangerous and safe, north and south, wander and yonder... The path never seemed to change, despite the transition from grass to dirt to rocks and back to grass, it was a hike all the same, I kept my eyes on the ground in front of me, the least I can do is manage to stay on my two feet.
The sun had set when we finally approached the small hut of a house. Father rolled out his bundle of a bed, I made a similar one with him the day before, he wanted to give me “true living” and decided the best way to do that was to “sleep under the stars” but I missed our roof. I missed our walls as the wind picked up with nightfall. I curled into my folded legs for warmth, for comfort. This was no bed.
It made me feel like an animal, it felt wrong. We were supposed to see the woods, the nature- Mother said it would be crawling with wildlife with plenty to see and explore, but from all we had seen so far, it seemed more barren than a burned farm.
The woods weren’t silent, but it felt like a void, like the rolling clouds of an approaching storm. If only it would swallow him whole like a whale. I treasure solitude. My father’s companionship was suffocating. Why do I have to meet new people on this trip into the wilderness? What part of being a true man involved meeting every breathing soul in a mile?
I missed Alice, my sister. She is keen on chatter and always friendly; she thrived under attention. It makes my skin crawl. I would be more than happy to stand by, unnoticed, like a silent fly on the wall.
We had a week to get through and I hoped my father would regret this choice, take us back to our home, to Mother and Alice. To our kitchen and our quiet lives. Our soft lives.
Six days left in these woods.
1985
July 5th
Steve
He watched the red taillights of Susan Mayfield’s Toyota wind through the trees as she drove down the road and away. They were on their way to a mother-daughter spa thing. He didn’t understand, frankly, she was going to camp; she’d be climbing trees and swimming, no doubt chasing the boys around through the woods.
Two days.
He had two entire days to himself.
Once again he stood in the doorway to the Harrington’s lake house and locked it- alone. He reached for the light switch and paused at the mail piled on the narrow table in the entryway, the propped up cards offering him confetti and congratulations. An illustrated kitten playing with a tassel from a graduation cap, signed Claudia and Dusty, a handwritten card from Scott Clarke, and a charming Hawkins Tigers card from the Buckleys. A sample wooden spoon from a mini ice cream with “You Rule” and “You Suck” scrawled on each side. Laid flat was the store-bought, signed-by-her-assistant, arrived-during-spring break black card with gold embossed script and inside: “I’m so proud of you!” from his mother.
Steve had graduated and his father kept his word- the bills that sat beside his graduation cards were addressed to his name. The house was his.
He toed off his shoes and flicked off the lights of his house room to room, wandering until he reached the kitchen last. He opened the narrow cupboard next to the oven and pulled out the bottle of his father’s third-favorite whiskey; he’d bought it to celebrate the house. Steve used to worry his dad might notice it wasn’t full. He poured himself a short, neat glass. It was nearly empty now.
He pulled his shirt off over his head and carried his glass carefully through the sliding door and onto the back porch. He padded across the deck and rested his crossed arms on the wooden railing, gazing down to the lake his house sat looking over; the winding road between him and the distant laps and sloshes that rippled the bright half-moon reflected on the surface. He took a sip of his drink and swallowed with a sharp breath through his teeth.
Maybe I can just toss it now that he’s not coming back for it. I really don’t like this shit.
He left the glass on the railing, his eyes drifted shut and he sank carefully to the deck with folded legs. It was a great night, clear and crisp, the heat that baked into the earth over the hot day faded to a comforting chill in the air. He heaved a deep lungful, his chest rising- he stretched his arms out and deflated as he exhaled.
Alone isn’t impossible. I can spend the weekend alone.
No Dustin or any of the boys, No Max or Robin, No Nancy…
I should want a weekend to myself, a weekend to…
To do what? Wander around town? Eat a sad meal alone? Catch a movie alone?
He reached up for his glass and tossed his head back with the final dregs of his drink. He returned the glass to the wood and he slid down to sprawl his arms like a cheer, laying out on the deck. He gazed up at the flickering lights above, to the moon directly and the stars, whatever shapes they made. He never understood how everyone could agree they made the same shapes; Dustin lectured on and on about myths and stories.
No Dustin…
He remembered a time when he would have killed for even one day free of Dustin. So many weekends and summer days were spent babysitting and chauffeuring and chaperone duties, but now he could look back on that time with a fondness. Especially with the kids going into high school, it would soon be obvious just how much smarter these kids were than him.
This summer won’t be so bad. School was behind him and his only reason to stay in this house was quick to follow. Rather than call the ghosts to feed on his winding, darkening thoughts- Robin’s getting to me… Steve hauled himself to his feet, plucking his glass off the floor with a swipe of his hand and slid the door closed behind him, locking it. He hadn’t known it could lock until Max tried to lock Dustin out.
No Max…
She moved in over a year ago and he’d grown comfortable with her typically quiet presence. They could go around for days without carrying real conversation with ease. She never strayed far and he never questioned her random, fierce hugs; he clutched her to him until she pulled away. He waved off her apologies. They joked together, at each other’s expense, he told her no, she hollered yes, they laughed. It hadn’t been very long but she was the most family this house had ever given a home to.
He’d spent much of his time as a child longing for siblings, someone to rely on when his parents fell through. But he and Max had a better bond than Harrington blood. She wouldn’t admit it but they needed each other, they helped each other. He tried not to miss her, she needed time with her mother. Susan was finally coming around on visits, even if it was still only in public places.
But Steve was lonely, he didn’t say it out loud, but he stopped complaining about a bustling house and a lack of personal space long ago. He tried to value his novel privacy, even if Max wasn’t here to complain about his trail of clothes; his shirt in the kitchen, his belt on the banister, pants on the landing, socks left in front of her door, by pure coincidence. Finally, he abandoned his boxers to stand in his bathroom. He thought about the time spent with Nancy on the tiled floor of this bathroom, sweaty and sick and cranky with each other. He hadn’t expected it to become a fond memory.
No Nancy…
That had been an even longer time. She wasn’t his to miss for a long time.
He didn’t think she meant to make such a strong impression in Steve’s memory when she observed, “I think babysitting has been good for you. Doing all the kids’ stuff- that’s gotta feel… nice, right?”
He was too busy managing his own time as he followed his traveling parents wherever they decided to bicker over food and service that just wasn’t good enough. He was too far from playgrounds and never stayed in a neighborhood long enough to learn any kids' names. It wasn’t until middle school, Hawkins, the lake house, and camp.
A weekend.
He scoffed as he shut off the light in his bathroom, a weekend? Ha! When he was alone the days droned on and blended together endlessly. With all his campers and Dustin’s friends, each sunset came with chatter, arguing and farewells, even if only for the hours they slept. They were hard pressed to spend time alone- apart. Even with Dustin spending the majority of his year with his mother and Max’s rare visits with Susan, he hardly found himself with lonely days- no kids to supervise, no Hopper over his shoulder, no girl to schmooze. No one.
At least this is familiar.
He crawled into his bed and pulled the cover up to his chest with a slow sigh. He had willed himself to sleep before, he’d do it again, and again. He was actually tired and sleep felt within reach, he wasn’t about to stay up for no reason; what’s another sunrise to watch if I wake up early?
Two days…
Chapter One: 14 Faces
1985
July 7
Dustin
Dustin zipped another pocket closed and pulled the flap of his backpack over the top, done. He dropped the backpack next to his duffel bag, also fully packed, and picked up the sheet of paper he left on his bed. It was crumpled from time and use, checking and rechecking the list under the title “Camp Moonbeam Camper Pack Essentials” and realistically, Dustin had this list memorized, but he checked it every summer and carefully packed the same two bags: his canvas, beige hiker’s pack and dark blue duffel. Reliable gifts from his grandfather years ago carried his canteen, binoculars, spare cord, and more recently a hunting knife; so long as it stayed in its sheath inside the backpack. Shirts that might be too stained or ratty for school were welcomed back to Dustin’s regular wardrobe, he smiled in particular at the Ghostbusters tee that had caught on a branch just past his armpit.
“Dusty!” Claudia Henderson called down the hall, “Are you done packing your clothes? I only ask because,” she peered carefully through the open door, Dustin turned to face her, sheet in hand. “You forgot this,” She held up a dark green rain coat on a hanger from the coat closet by the front door. He’d opted not to pack it.
“I’m not gonna need it, it’s summer-”
“You know it can still rain-”
“Yeah, but it probably won’t,” he patted the duffle bag down and pulled the zipper around and closed, turning back to his mother’s pinched face of concern. She wanted to disagree, but she said nothing. “And if it will make you feel better, they have a ton of jackets and ponchos over there, I’ll borrow one.”
She sank with relief, “Oh, good. I forgot about that- I’m glad Joyce took my suggestion about those sample inquiries.”
Dustin nodded and turned back to his bed, sliding his duffel bag strap over his shoulder, but his mom still stood in his room. Her eyes fell to the closed up bags, he was ready.
“So, I’m supposed to pick up Desiree at noon, which means I have to head out right away, and you look ready to go, but are you sure-”
“Mom-”
“It’s just one day sooner, but I can absolutely still take the train and-”
“No, I think it was really nice of you to help her out.”
“Yes, well. Ever since Richard-”
Dustin nodded and finished the sentence, “Up and left for that Malibu harlot she hasn’t been the same.” He resisted a sigh.
“Right, it’s about time we got her out of the house. But you-”
“I really don’t mind. Plus,” he headed forward down the hall with a bag in each hand, “Steve is probably hopeless without me or Max there keeping him company.” He dropped the duffel by the door next to his boots and left his pack leaning against the wall. He plucked his hat off the rack by the door and turned back to his mother, but she stood making the same face she always made when he talked about Steve, a little sad, a bit of a smile. It felt like pity.
“You know it’s not your job to worry about him-he’s a grown up, sweetie. He can take care of himself. I’m sure he could do with some free time from you kids.”
Dustin rolled his eyes and shook his hair off his ears to tuck his hat on tight, but his mom didn’t grab her keys, the dish didn’t clink. He faced her again, from under the brim of his Don’t Start the Fire cap.
“You know, since he’s graduated, maybe we should talk about-”
“Don’t worry, Steve’s not going anywhere,” Dustin was confident, and frankly getting bored of this topic with his mother. He was starting high school this year and Steve was done, he gave up on college a while ago and, well, Claudia might not understand, but he had every reason to keep this job and stick around the camp. “Plus, Max is starting high school too, she’s going with all of us, so they can’t, like, move. Why are you so worried about Steve?”
She hadn’t expected him to turn this on her, she spluttered, “I’m… Well, I won’t say I don’t worry about him. I do. but I think I’m worried about you being so attached to him-”
“Oh, I’m fine. Believe me, I have plenty of people to spend my time with.” he crossed his arms and smirked, “Or have you forgotten, my beloved Suzie will be returning this summer?”
“How could I forget? I’m so disappointed I won’t be able to chit-chat with her father, he’s such a funny man- well, he’s so serious-”
“Tell me about it- he’s a little dictator of that house. I swear he’s allergic to having the phone off the hook,” He sighed with an exhaustion beyond his years and his mother smiled at him.
“Well, alright. Get your shoes on and I’ll grab my bag and you can keep counting down the minutes…” She turned back to her room and he sat on the floor to pull his boots on.
-
Claudia was a nervous driver, she clung close to the steering wheel and sought reassurance often from the gentle, bouncing head of the bobble-head ginger tabby stuck to the dashboard. She scanned back and forth carefully, her earrings clicked and clacked for the two and a half blocks she had to cross to deliver Dustin and his camping gear to Steve’s house. She never parked in his driveway- it was steep and she didn't like reversing out of it, so Dustin slung his backpack over his shoulder and hauled his duffel along too as they walked up the worn path up to Steve’s front door.
She barely knocked and Steve swung the door open, beaming that smile his mom always believed: Steve’s “ignore me” smile. Dustin rolled his eyes at Steve’s enthusiastic greeting and tucked under his arm to drop his bags near the front door and returned outside to hug his mother good-bye. He didn’t bother listening to Steve’s fake small talk to keep up appearances for his mother.
“Have fun, try not to spend all your time with your girlfriend-”
“Mom!”
Claudia smiled and watched Steve pull Dustin into his side with a side-hug, squeezing him too close and squashing his hat with a twisting palm. “You have a good trip, and remember to try Joyce’s phone around nine PM if you need to reach us!” Steve waived and Dustin smiled as he shoved Steve aside to stand upright.
Steve closed the door behind them and stepped down into the living room and kept walking ahead of him.
“So, how’s your mom doing, for real?”
“She’s fine. She worries about you-”
“Don’t I know it, she bugging you?”
Dustin found Steve in the kitchen, he waved with a cleaver in his hand. He was almost finished breaking down some beef ribs and some other portions he’d finished beforehand.
“Feeling a little rare?”
Steve leveled a stare at him, impatient. Dustin took a seat at the dining table, facing Steve. He watched him slide all the meat into even portions of tupperware he could swear his mother bought; the lids were decorative colors. This new “grown up” Steve, he wore jeans too nice just for a drive to town, his hair was clean and damp from a shower.
“We’re picking up Robin, right?” His question was simple, but his tone implied much more. He hadn’t been subtle about it ever, but Dustin continued to imply that Steve should be trying to woo Robin.
“Knock it off, dude,” Steve whacked the faucet harder than necessary and shut the water off, he dropped the knife into the sink and toweled his hands dry, “Her parents would rather she go to band camp or some college-prep course. Not driving all the way out is part of the deal. We love Robin- we, you twerp.”
“Oh right, sure, you saved her life and just drive half-an-hour out of the way for her because you don’t like-like her,” he stabbed a pointed finger in his direction, “You love her.”
Saved her life from what? They still didn’t have a good understanding of what happened last summer. They didn’t have a good understanding of anything that happened on this mountain. But Dustin had seen the way Robin and Steve had been changed by the night they shared, the night they survived. They were bloodied and dehydrated, but Dustin knew there was much more they hadn’t shared.
Steve had insisted, “All that matters is that we’re alive and nothing like that will happen again…”
Dustin’s point was that they had come out alive together- Robin had accidentally mentioned a Steve Harrington “hero moment” saving her life and he hadn’t been able to shut Dustin up since.
Steve dropped his head back between his shoulders, “Camp hasn’t even started yet. They aren’t even serving lunch yet and you are already attacking me? Gimme a break, man.”
Dustin bounced his brows over a proud smirk, “You survive your day alone?”
“It was supposed to be a weekend.”
Steve crossed his arms and cocked his hip, but Dustin was confident.
“Yeah, I’m sure you had a great time all alone, with all these chores to do.”
Steve leaned back against the counter and wiped his hand down his face, “So, you’re all packed? Do we need to pick anything up while we go into town?”
“No, my mom even tried to get me to overpack-”
“She was probably right-”
“She tried to give me a huge raincoat! It’s over 80 degrees already and it’s not even ten!”
Steve shrugged, “Well, we have those-”
“That’s what I told her!”
“In a nicer tone, I hope?”
“Oh, my god, you’re not the babysitter-you’re the second mom.”
“Shut up and get in the car,” Steve swatted at his shoulder and walked past him in a rush back out the door.
“Did I tell you there’s a meteor shower, called the Perseid-”
“Yeah, you’ve brought it up every time you breathe,” Steve rolled his eyes and unlocked the car doors. Dustin dropped into the passenger seat with an informative finger waggle ready for Steve as he started the car.
“It’s very cool, Steve. And actually, it's romantic. Suzie and I are going to watch the meteor shower and I’m gonna kiss her under a sea of shooting stars.” He illustrated a picture Steve never wanted a mental image of. Dustin continued, “Of course, they aren’t stars,” his whimsical tone and dreamy eyes were gone as he began talking like a teacher, Clarke’s pet, “It’s just a trail of a debris cloud left behind as the comet particles fragment off past the Earth.”
Steve never expressed an outright interest in learning, and had quite the reputation for the opposite; a distaste for education. But ever since things started happening that no one could easily explain, Steve had a more open mind for new things. It didn’t stop him from complaining that Dustin rambled on too long- while Dustin pointed out that he let Robin over explain everything all the time, so once more Dustin came to the conclusion that Steve was blind to what obviously stood before him, the perfect girl.
Steve was a careful driver too, but nothing like Dustin’s mom. Where she had hunched forward to scan, Steve leaned back and enjoyed coasting just under the speed limit. Mike had joked that it was a result of spending too much time with Hopper. As much as Steve would argue against it, he had taken to the counselor and babysitter position very well. He was practically Max’s surrogate brother and nothing made more sense, despite the shock of the events at the time, no one questioned Steve’s sudden custody. Max had latched on to Steve early on, before Dustin even knew she existed.
“Who are we picking up first?”
“Max,” Steve sighed, “Susan managed to drive up here the other day but she can’t seem to do it again.”
“Oh…” Dustin wasn’t sure what that meant. He didn’t know much about Max’s mom. She knew they looked a lot alike, but that was just from a picture of a much younger Max.
“She’s… still uncomfortable around here,” Steve gestured with his wrist in a circle. The lake, the woods, the mountains.
“Sheesh,” Dustin managed, he wasn’t sure what would sound mean or what questions would be too personal. He let Steve continue talking about it since it didn’t seem like a topic they could discuss back-and-forth.
“Can you blame her? She didn’t even want to move here and then…”
Steve trailed off, and no- No, Dustin couldn’t blame her. He didn’t have the whole story, but from what he had heard, he wouldn’t have stayed in the state. But he didn’t know how far Mrs. Mayfield moved last year- maybe she did leave the state. Maybe that’s why Max never saw her that much.
“Last time she was here was… Max’s birthday, right?”
Steve nodded, “April.”
They spoke at the same time with the same ominous inflection, “Spring Break.”
The harmony caught them both by surprise and they laughed at each other, at themselves. It wasn’t as rare anymore, the two of them smiling together.
Steve had long accepted Dustin’s rooted fixture in his life, Max’s installation certainly helped. At one time, Steve would dread Dustin’s company, and he knew it- the resentment rolled off him like humid, tacky air. But now that Dustin was a teenager, he understood. Steve was essentially stuck with Dustin because he did what his father told him to- and Mr. Harrington would never call his son a babysitter, let alone hope that Steve would make a career as a glorified child care specialist. Dustin barely remembered Steve’s dad, he remembered not liking how tall he was and how far away he stood from others. Steve wasn’t like that, he always stood where he could see each of them, and he stressed like a Border Collie separated from his sheep when some kids were in a different room. He hadn’t even complained about driving distance in months; all the back and forth from the Byers to the Wheelers and into town proper was racking up on the BMW’s mileage.
Dustin wondered if it was graduating that really made him this old already, but he certainly didn’t feel the same finishing middle school. Things wouldn’t change much, the classrooms would be new, the teachers would have new books but his friends would be there, just taller. They’d still have each other, “This Party adventures forever!” Will had declared over the end of their first campaign, three years ago.
“Oh!” Dustin startled Steve’s steering and ignored his grumbling, “You’re finally gonna meet Eddie! He’s back this-”
“I went to school with this guy. All four years,” he held up four fingers as if Dustin couldn’t count his future schooling, “Well, four for me.”
Dustin’s face pinched, that upset him, “Hey, that’s harsh-”
“The guy was in pris-on, Dustin!”
“He was in jail!”
Steve glanced from the road with a look that said “Like there’s a difference!”
“Steve! He was innocent-”
Steve was a responsible driver but he shut his eyes to pinch his fingers to the bridge of his nose just long enough to demonstrate just how frustrated he was, “He brought a knife to a fight!”
“Alleged fight! Jason and his douchebag friends jumped him! And we all carry knives up here, that was such a stupid charge, don’t they consider some people just have sharp objects without intent…”
Steve searched the sprawl of road as if the answers to his unspoken and impossible questions would be spelled out in paint. He reached for words but none came. Dustin shook his head and dropped into his hands.
“How do you know all that?”
Usually, Dustin would tell Steve anything and everything; each thought and question that entered his mind, Steve would hear about. But his time with Eddie, he had not shared with Steve.
“He… told me?”
Steve looked stricken, “You talked to him?”
“I knew you would react like this!”
“He’s insane!”
Dustin scoffed, “Right because the rest of us are so well-adjusted?”
Steve said nothing, the road was far too important now.
“Look,” the guilt ate at Dustin immediately, but he also desperately needed to correct him, “He may have been leaving some band practice while we were talking about our DnD game-”
“The Dragon game?”
“Dungeons and Dragons. It’s two words, Steve.”
“Shut up, it’s dumb and I can’t keep up with all the dumb names of your games-”
“It’s one game and it’s two words. Eddie also plays DnD,”
Steve muttered it to himself, like practice, “Dee-Ann Dee”
Dustin rolled his eyes and continued, “Eddie invited us to play with his friends- Don’t!”
Steve’s shoulders hiked up high to his ears and he flung his hand from the steering wheel, “You hear it, though? Do you hear how you sound?”
“You’re just jealous ‘cause I have another older male friend.”
Steve winced, “Ew. Ugh.”
“Don’t make it weird!”
“Why is this the first I’m hearing of this?”
He didn’t tell Steve because he didn’t want him to feel threatened, he may have been saddled with Dustin’s company, but he knew he felt protective and possessive. He didn’t want to hurt Steve’s feelings.
“I didn’t think it was that big a deal,” Dustin’s voice pitched too high, betraying his attempt to lie.
“Didn’t think… You didn’t think I would want to know that all of you ‘play’ with Eddie “the Freak” Munson?”
He hurt Steve’s feelings. And he knew it because the second after he asked it, Steve clicked his teeth, adjusted in his seat and shoved his hand through his hair, eyes back on the road and jaw set.
“It hasn’t been that much…”
Steve quirked one brow high on his forehead, “How long?” He could try to sound like he didn’t care, but Dustin knew better. He blinked at him, hoping to make him admit his jealousy. “How long have you been playing with Munson?”
It was as good at telling Dustin he was right. He answered, “Eddie and Gareth and Jeff and Frank like to fight imaginary monsters with us like once a month, and not even every month… For like most of the school year.”
“All year?” Steve had given up his eyes-on-the-road rule to hit Dustin with another pang of guilt. “Why didn’t I know this?”
“You don’t know everything I do-” Dustin was proud to have parts of his life he didn’t share. It felt very grown up.
“Well, of course not!”
That wasn’t a normal answer, Dustin turned to look Steve over. He watched the road again, but his eyes scanned the road and looked too far off.
“Why are you so upset?”
“I’m- Upset? I am not- Jesus,” he steered the car to turn into the parking lot at the gas station. He pulled in alongside a black Toyota, one spot apart. “You are something else today, you know that?” He parked the car and they rocked back gently in their seats. Steve pointed at him, “You stay here and wait for Max.”
Dustin tried not to eavesdrop but he watched Steve nervously rake his hands through his hair before he slammed the door. He couldn’t help watching the stiff exchange between him and Max’s mom. Max had a small backpack over one shoulder and quickly moved from her rushed side-hug with her mother to stand beside Steve. She couldn’t pick which foot to stand on or where to look while her mom put on what Dustin was realizing was a ‘mom shield’: a tough smile against the urge to be overbearing, concern to keep to themselves. For better or worse.
Max’s hair wasn’t tied up or braided, but hung long around her face and down her back; shiny and sleek. She had complained before that her mom wanted to do something girly. Steve alternated a hand on his hip to wildly gesturing from his face. Finally, he watched Max withdraw and rush to the passenger door where Dustin sat. He made a face at her, like hell! She pulled on the door handle but he caught the lock in time. Affronted, she scowled at him through the window and stepped aside to open the back door.
“Hey Max!”
He called over his shoulder as she flung her backpack to the floor and dropped into the back seat.
She pulled the door closed and shoved his seat with her knee, “Hey. What are you gonna do when we get Robin?”
Dustin pulled the visor down and spoke to her without turning around, “I’m sure Robin likes you enough to sit in the back with you,” Dustin smiled at her through the mirror in his visor before slapping it closed. When she didn’t respond, he turned to look over the back of the seat, she scowled at him with crossed arms and alternated bumping knees against his back. If she wanted to pester him out of the seat, she would have to try a lot harder.
“First come, first serve, it’s car rules.”
Her scowl didn’t let up and she glanced out the windshield to Steve and her mom, still talking. She really didn’t see her mom that often anymore and every time she did she sat like she carried extra weight, like a Cloak of Despair.
“Your hair looks nice-”
“Shut up.”
He laughed and they watched as Steve reached to shake Max’s mom’s hand only for her to wave- so he tried to correct and patted her arm.
“Oh my god,” Dustin exclaimed under his breath at the sight. Max groaned in disgusted agreement.
“He’s terrible.”
Steve
Steve shook his hair out and the awkward tension took him by the shoulders as he rounded the hood of his car and dropped back into the driver’s seat. They watched him in amused silence as he fumbled with his keys and he puffed a breath through his lips before he finally noticed the quiet. He looked around at both of them.
“...What?” He asked, confused but apprehensive.
The two of them crumbled into tittering giggles that built up to flat-out laughter. He rolled his eyes and started the car and grabbed the gear shift when Dustin finally spoke, “You are so awkward!”
“What was that?” Max piled on.
He backed the car out of the parking lot and navigated back to the road.
“Both of you can shut it. Music privileges are revoked,” and he fiddled with the dial on the radio until he settled on a Madonna song.
“We’re going to Robin’s and no one-” he looked each of them in the eye, darting between them and the road as he changed lanes, “Is going to sass me, understood?”
Max and Dustin looked at each other over Dustin’s seat and fell to laughter again.
“Ha, oh,” Max sighed with a smile, “Thanks, Steve. I needed that.”
Steve scowled at the road, “Yeah, whatever,” he glanced up at her through the mirror as she pulled an elastic from her backpack and tied her hair up into a ponytail, relief spreading across her freckled face.
Robin’s house was dead center of town, so Steve navigated the closer roads, lined with parked cars. He let Max and Dustin bicker, their voices blended with the sounds of pop music in the back of his mind as he thought over what Susan had said, how uncomfortable Max had looked. She hadn’t mentioned a “next time” so maybe they could go until Christmas without hearing from her.
He glanced at Max through the rearview mirror again, in between his mirror checks as he cut through traffic. He hated to see her feel as lonely as he had- the not-quite orphans. He looked away before she noticed, but he’d bet she knew he was looking anyway. She watched the town as it passed by in the window, but he doubted she was looking at anything. He hoped Dustin had figured out not to ask about her weekend. The kids had taken her into the group easily, enthusiastically even. But things weren’t getting any easier for her.
Robin’s street was as familiar as his own at this point, the neighbor’s with their feuding hedge heights and the crack that ran along their driveway. Robin’s superstitious mother refused to park over it, her sedan sat in front of the house and Steve parked behind it. He unbuckled his seat belt but didn’t reach for the keys, “I’ll just be a-”
“Can I come in?”
Dustin asked with a devious smile.
“Absolutely not, you better stay here.”
Steve pushed the door open and hauled himself out, twisting his back with a sigh. He needed this summer, he needed time away from this car. He started up the walkway when the door opened and Robin spilled out, her regular backpack fell to the brick porch, boots in hand and camp pack swung from her elbow. She called behind her, “No, no! I know! I’ve got it! I have everything, thanks- I’ll tell him!”
He stopped on the lawn to watch her struggle for a second longer before stepping forward with a wry smile, “We aren’t in a rush, you gotta slow down-jeez, Rob.”
He took her boots from her hand and dropped them to the ground, then took her bag off her arm and slung it over his shoulder so she could stand upright. She dropped to the bricks and pulled her boots onto her socked feet, the socks were different colors and one reached much higher on her ankles. He looked around as she tightened her laces in a hurry, “Sorry- I know, but I’m dying to get out of here before my mom asks me about my future one more time,” she looked up to find him waving to her mom in the window. She groaned, “God, you are not helping either! My mom is convinced you are my perfect match-”
“Yeah, Dustin thinks so too,” he looked to the car, and saw Dustin watching shamelessly through the window, “I think he’s getting worse. With all that Suzie crap he really thinks he’s the romance guru.” Robin rose to stand with her camp pack securely over her shoulder and she held her hand out for her other backpack. Steve just turned to walk to the back of the car, “But who does he think taught him everything he knows?”
“He’s your acolyte, are you really surprised he grew an ego like yours?”
He scowled at her as he unlocked the trunk and dropped her bag in, gesturing for her to do the same. She tilted her head at him and smiled at his frown, “I promise not to make things worse,” and she drew a cross over her heart.
He didn’t believe her for a second, but she placed her bag securely and he slammed the trunk shut. With a final wave to Robin’s parents through the window he sank into his seat once more, he noticed Robin hadn’t gotten in yet, but he started the car.
“I told you,” Max muttered in a sing-song voice as Robin rapped her knuckles endlessly on the passenger window, to Dustin.
“Let her in, Henderson,” Steve tapped the steering wheel, adding to the din around him.
“I was here first!”
Robin pulled the handle and opened the door, Dustin shifted, but didn’t give up the seat.
“Hey Dusty!” Robin greeted with an eerie smile and Steve reached over to unbuckle it himself.
“You better move,” Steve warned him and Robin offered him a hand up, and out. He took her hand and she hauled him upright, he flung his arm out to let the seat belt slide back into place.
“Haha, sorry… Car rules, but you- you should sit up front,” Dustin waved to the front seat then turned to the next door, to Max’s beaming grin as she covered the lock to the door. Robin grabbed the roof of the car and swung into her seat with a fwump and she reached to adjust the seat. Steve shook his head at his chaotic little group. Dustin rounded the back of the car and let himself in behind Steve. With the doors all closed, Steve steered back into the day’s traffic.
Steve couldn’t help the old image of what he thought the perfect life would be, kids in the back and wife in the passenger seat. The simplistic image of his once-desired future was so bland, so uninformed. He felt bad for ever thinking Nancy should be a part of that staged photo. His father’s expectations were plain, and honestly unrealistic. His father’s image of a family was either twisted or didn’t meet his dream. Maybe he didn’t dream of his future family, and that’s how they ended up so far apart.
It didn’t have to be his kids. Max and Dustin weren’t going to be kids forever, but they were his responsibility… Despite all he and Dustin argued, he and Robin were beyond friendship. It just wasn’t a relationship Dustin could fully understand. He didn’t need to, Steve supposed, watching Robin on the edge of his peripheral as he checked mirrors, she stuck her tongue out at him as she caught him.
It didn’t have to be his wife, and Robin was far better than any girlfriend he’d ever had. He hadn’t considered what friendship really meant with someone who wasn’t trying to use him until he was faced with someone who wanted nothing from him. It was a corny line to sell bunk space, but the friends he made at camp taught him what real friendship was like. With her guidance he had even managed to make friends with Jonathan and Nancy, however tense random moments could still be.
“Steve!”
Dustin hollered in his ear and shook the seat behind his shoulders, but Steve just smiled fondly, “Yeah bud?”
“Robin brought up lunch! What are we doing?”
Steve looked over the back seat, Max wasn’t too clued in, she must have noticed he was already driving towards the diner. He knew everyone would be too hungry to wait for dinner: Robin probably refused her father’s stale baked goods, Max was always hungry, and Dustin loved the waitress at this diner. He knew they would be eating simple and easy food for most of the summer, so a restaurant’s fresh cooking was the obvious answer. He couldn’t deny how good grease and booth seating sounded. But he couldn’t resist picking on Dustin more.
“I cut up half a cow this weekend,” he whined. Robin tsk’d her teeth in annoyance, she knew the game. "But I had bull last night." Dustin recoiled back against the seat in disgust, but Max’s eyebrow bounced with interest.
“Some of us can’t process raw meat, Harrington!”
“No?” He smirked at Dustin in the mirror and turned down the smaller road. He shared a rueful smile with Robin and parked the BMW along the curb outside The Sweet Spice. Once a coffee shop to fuel local morning workers, the diner grew into a brunch-all day restaurant serving the larger demand for grub left behind after Benny’s closed down. They all stepped out of the car, closing the door- Steve eyed Dustin to make sure he didn’t slam his.
Robin offered an elbow out to Max, “Waffles?” she asked in a fancy voice and Max looped their arms with a grin, “Perhaps, shall we bother with the vast menu?” Max responded in a mock fancy voice and Steve watched them with a smile. Robin offered her other arm to Steve, but he noticed too late, lingering by the car.
Dustin shoved his shoulder, “Dude,” he gestured to Robin as she and Max went ahead to find a booth. He picked up his pace and caught up to a sneering Dustin. He looked disappointed.
“What?” Steve kept his tone light, but he wanted to get this over with before they sat. Dustin huffed and glanced towards the girls ahead of them.
“You-you suck at this, do you know that?”
Steve stopped walking up the ramping sidewalk, and cocked his hip standing at an incline with his hands on his hips, “Try again?” Steve gave him this final chance, he was hungry and this line of questioning was getting old. He could smell the pie he wouldn’t let them order.
“Robin?” Dustin said like it was clear and obvious, “You are so blind! She’s- she is dropping hints left and right and you’re ignoring her?”
Steve clapped his hand to Dustin’s shoulder as he continued walking past him, “Drop it dude.”
Dustin rushed after him and they navigated to the booth they frequented, “That’s my partner in crime,” he pointed to Robin as he rounded the table, “Don’t make it weird.”
“Yeah!”
Robin cheered in agreement as Steve dropped into the seat next to Max, leaving Dustin to sit beside Robin.
He knew Dustin was soft on one of the waitresses and nodded to Robin subtly when she rounded the kitchen door and approached them. They all kept their smiles to themselves, tucking behind their menus and folded hands as Dustin flushed with a smile as the older waitress complimented his curly hair. It wasn’t until she disappeared back into the kitchen that Dustin kicked at Steve and Max from under the table and elbowed Robin, fuming.
“You guys are such assholes!”
They smiled and chuckled, even Dustin couldn’t deny the cheerful mood.
Steve had hoped they wouldn’t order too much and fill up before the big dinner they had planned at Joyce’s house before orientation. As their plates arrived and Steve sat upright, to receive his bagel sandwich, he asked, “Did you all bring cash? I don’t have my wallet.” He joked and noticed the waitress shake her head as she put down the last dish and left them with a stack of napkins.
Max sat up, holding a finger out, “We can put it on my tab.”
And that got a laugh out of everyone, Steve’s eyes even pricked with tears he laughed so hard; Robin wheezed over her apple juice. It gave him hope, Max was getting more comfortable, and god she was fun.
He imagined how they looked to the other lunch-time diners, their waitress. They probably just looked like a bunch of loud teens failing to not cause a ruckus. But Steve saw the family he’d pulled together, made of his own friends. He had been dramatic about a weekend alone, he could admit that much. But he couldn’t deny the comfort brought from his favorite people at his side. He’d drive a million miles with them bickering across the car, he’d buy a thousand waffles for them to laugh over, he couldn’t think of anything he wouldn't do for these three.
He thought back to last summer, and the one before that- his first as a counselor. This year will be our best yet. He nudged Max and she smiled with a mouthful of syrupy waffles and he recoiled but his smile didn’t falter. This is our year.