chapter 005 ,
the best way to spend a birthday

THE DOOR SLAMMED TIGHTLY, just barely missing her heels, shooting a breeze of air on her back that brought a shiver up her spine.

Her father's car was not in the driveway and every light in the house appeared to be off. Lucy wondered if maybe her father and his girlfriend had taken a weekend getaway—it was possible, in the honeymoon phase of their new relationship, that Paul had forgotten he had the kids for the next two weeks, which meant that Lucy and Leo had the house to themselves for a couple days. Lucy wasn't complaining; her dad's girlfriend was a lot to handle, and after the excitement of the last few days, she just wanted to be able to curl up in her room with Madonna and a tub of ice cream.

     Leo was out—probably next door at Mike's, if Lucy had to guess. Or spending the day at Dustin's. Some part of Lucy was curious as to why the entire party wasn't hanging out together; they almost never did things one-on-one. If the party was going to hang out, they were going to do it as a whole group. But lately Lucy had noticed Leo staying home a bit more than usual. If he did go out, it was to see Dustin or Will, but never the whole party, and never to play D&D.

     Sure, she was curious as to what had caused a rift in their party; but Lucy didn't have the mind to be worrying about her twelve-year-old brother's friend group drama.

     She tossed her bags carelessly on the couch and moved to the kitchen, cupping it gently in her hands. Her life might've been falling apart, but the least she could do was keep a single cupcake safe long enough to put a candle in it and wish herself a happy birthday. She set the cake down on the counter and leaned her forearms next to it, tilting her head to lay on her arms. The candle was pink, as was the frosting, all swirled neatly together atop vanilla cake. A perfectly pink cupcake for a perfectly private birthday.

     Her wish was simple, not taking long for her to think of after shutting her eyes in thought. When she finished, her lips formed an O, and she blew out the flame on the candle. But before she could even move to take the candle out of the cupcake, the doorbell rang.

     Lucy frowned. Nobody ever visited Paul Andrews's house—if he did have a once-in-a-blue-moon guest, it was a work colleague. But all of his coworkers must have known he was on holiday. Who else would come to visit, unannounced?

Her questions were not answered—in fact, they multiplied significantly—when she opened the door, because before her was perhaps the last duo she would ever expect to see on the other side of the threshold.

Dustin Henderson held a rose bouquet at his side listlessly. He had his walkie talkie headset on, which was how Lucy knew he meant business. At his side was Steve Harrington, looking pretty conflicted with himself. Lucy's eyes moved between the two, her lips parting in confusion.

"Is Leo here?" Dustin asked.

Lucy blinked slowly. "Sorry—?"

"Your brother," Dustin said. Lucy got the feeling he was on the edge of losing his temper. "Is he home?"

Her gut gave a pang of anxiety. "I thought he was with you. Is he okay? What's going on?"

But Dustin had lost interest the moment she replied. He cursed and spun on his heel, storming back up the hill towards the street, where station wagon Lucy recognized as Steve's was parked.

She looked to Steve, ignoring the alarms blaring in her mind to punch him in the face and leave him bleeding on her porch. "Do you know what's going on?"

"No idea," he admitted. His eyes scanned Lucy's face for a moment, and she met his gaze, swallowing, but both broke away as Dustin began shouting at them.

"Let's go, Harrington!" he called down the hill. "We're in a time crunch here!"

"See you around," Steve offered. He turned to go, then faltered for a split second like he was debating saying something; but altogether headed back up the hill to meet Dustin at his car.

Lucy stood frozen in her doorway for a moment, then regained enough sense to hurry up the hill to stop them from driving off. Her cheeks were flushed with the crisp breeze and her nose was turning red. Middle of November, and she was running around without a jacket on—basically begging for frostbite—but her brother outweighed any and all illnesses she could inflict upon herself.

She grabbed Dustin's jacket and turned him around to face her. "What is going on? Where is he?"

"That's exactly what I asked you." Dustin's tone was impatient. "Steve and I are going to look for him. Okay? You stay here."

"Um, no," she said forcefully, grabbing him again, as he had turned to go once more. "It's my brother. I'm not leaving him in your hands."

Dustin met her glare, hard-set and steely. They shared a tense gaze. Finally, he broke, scoffing and throwing the roses in the air in defeat.

     "Hop in. And don't ask too many questions—my head already hurts from dealing with him." Dustin threw the roses into the back of the car. He paused suddenly, looking between Lucy and Steve menacingly. "And we have absolutely no time for funny business. Deal?"

     Lucy and Steve shared an uncomfortable glance, then replied together, "Deal."

     "Okay. Fine. Let's go." Dustin opened the door to the front passenger's seat of the car. When he realized that neither Lucy nor Steve had moved to follow, he turned to them and said, "NOW!"

                         "JESUS, STEVE, THIS SONG SUCKS." Lucy reached to turn the knobs on the stereo to a better station, but Steve slapped her hand away. She recoiled, offended. He gave her the same look she gave him.

     "It's catchy," he replied defensively.

     "Catchy doesn't always mean good," she pointed out. "Besides, Queen has better stuff than Hammer To Fall. What about something they've put out that's actually good?"

     "You'd just prefer if I put on ABBA and we drove the rest of the way listening to Gimme Gimme Gimme."

     "Yes, actually."

     "Well, gimme gimme gimme a break. We're listening to this song, whether you like it or—"

     "Does he really have to be here?" Lucy cut off Steve with a question directed at Dustin. "I mean, seriously. What's he got to do with this?"

     "Uh, a lot, actually," Steve replied, his brow furrowed.

     "He's right." Dustin gave Lucy an apologetic look—well, as apologetic as it gets with Dustin. "Steve's been through this before. We need him. If anything, it's you we don't need. Sorry."

     Lucy scoffed, taken aback. "I'm just trying to help find my brother!"

     "We're not just trying to find your brother," Dustin said. "We also have—"

     "Right, right," Lucy said dryly, nodding dramatically. "Right, yeah, that big lizard you trapped in your storm cellar. You needed some big kids to come take care of it?"

"It's not a lizard!"

"How do you know?" Steve challenged.

"How do I know if it's not—?"

"Yeah, how do you know if it's not just a lizard?"

"Because his face opened up and he ate my cat!"

Steve fell silent, clearly unable to formulate a reply. Lucy cleared her throat in an amused manner.

The sun had completely sunken by the time they arrived at Dustin's house, leaving them in complete darkness, illuminated only by the slivers of moonlight glimpsing through the bare tree branches and the single flashlight Steve held in his hands. Lucy shivered as a breeze swept by.

Steve, beside her, took silent notice of this; he wordlessly slid his own jacket off his shoulders, leaving him in just a sweatshirt, and offered it to Lucy. She glanced to him, her lips parting in something that was almost guilt-like, before she took the jacket with a whispered "Thank you" from her downturned lips. He just pressed his lips together in a vacant expression, nodding shortly.

At his side hung a baseball bat, nailed through-and-through with bats. To herself, Lucy wondered what kind of lizard they were about to face.

     Dustin's storm cellar had a padlock chain keeping it shut tight—whatever was inside had absolutely no way of getting out, that was for sure. Lucy stood behind with Dustin as Steve inspected the door.

     "I don't hear shit," he said finally. "You said he was clawing at the door when you left, but I don't hear anything."

     "Well, he's in there."

     Experimentally, Steve poked the end of his bat onto the door, creating a thump that would anger any predator. When no such reaction came, he swung the bat down harder, this time making a much bigger thump. Still—nothing.

     "Is it dead?" Lucy ventured.

     "Or if this is some stupid Halloween prank," Steve said, rounding on Dustin and pointing his flashlight right in his face, "you're dead. Hear me?"

     "It's not a prank, and it's not dead," Dustin claimed. "At least, I think it's not dead."

     Steve nodded to the padlock. "You gotta key for this thing?"

     Dustin's head bobbed emphatically, and he fumbled around in his pockets for a moment before unveiling an old iron key, which he tossed to Steve and Lucy. Steve caught it with ease.

When the doors to the cellar were thrown open, Lucy was expecting a goddamn jumpscare—that this lizard had been waiting for its chance to pounce, and was about to kill all three of them—but nothing happened. The doors hit the ground with a loud clang. The stairs creaked uneasily. But no lizard jumped out and began eating Lucy's face off, which she took as a win.

The flashlight could only just reach the bottom of the staircase—that proved to be empty—but in the place of relief, Lucy only felt more anxiety. For if that stupid evil lizard had escaped, then what?

"Lucy and I will stay up here in case he tries to escape," Dustin said decisively. He shared a long, tense glance with Steve, who shook his head in disbelief and stood up straight. He took the first step into the cellar.

"Stay safe," Lucy blurted, unable to stop herself.

Steve paused, glancing at her over his shoulder but not meeting her eyes. His lips formed something like an amused smile. "Come on. When have I ever not been safe?"

When he reached the bottom of the stairs and was therefore far out of earshot, Dustin flicked Lucy's arm. She exclaimed in surprised pain.

"The hell?"

"What is the your deal?" he whispered, nodding toward the cellar.

Lucy's face was hard-set. "I don't have a deal."

"Yuh-huh," Dustin said, though his voice was disbelieving—almost mocking. "And I have all my adult teeth."

"See anything, Steve?" Lucy called irritably, turning her face away from Dustin very forcefully.

"Skin," Steve yelled back. After a moment's pause, he reappeared at the bottom of the cellar and pointed his flashlight up at Dustin and Lucy. "Get down here."

Sure enough, Lucy found Steve hadn't been lying about the skin thing. Just as all reptiles—or something—Dustin's big lizard friend had shed its skin. Or was it fish that normally did that? Lucy never really paid attention in biology when it came to this kind of thing. But looking at the size of the shedded skin, she wished she had taken notes or something, because she was only then starting to realize how big Dustin had really meant when referring to the lizard.

"Look," Steve said, nodding to the corner. He turned his flashlight towards it. An involuntary gasp escaped Lucy's lips.

The lizard had escaped. Somehow, it had dug into solid cinder blocks with its bare hands—er, flippers, or whatever lizards had for hands—and tunneled its way out of the cellar. Slimy residue was left behind in its wake. Lucy's face scrunched up in disgust.

"Jesus," she muttered. "What the hell?"

Dustin drew in a long breath and puffed up his chest, like he had just made a big decision. He looked to the hole, then back at Lucy and Steve, nodding firmly.

"Yep. This is bad."