CHAPTER 28
WORKING MAN'S WAGE

VERONICA blew out the heaviest sigh of her life as she stood outside Scoops Ahoy on a Tuesday afternoon.

The sign hanging above the entrance to the ice cream parlor was only half-lit, one of the Os in "Scoops" blinking continuously. Veronica couldn't bear to look at it. She balanced on the balls of her feet, wondering whether it was time to walk away or not. Leaving was probably a good idea – it was what the rational side of her brain told her to do – but the logical just had to remind her how much she needed to save. The economy was going up steadily, and she refused to be one of those college students who arrived with a couple of pennies in their pocket.

God, she thought to herself, why can't I just grow up, be an adult, and die?

Scoops Ahoy was filled with teenagers enjoying the last few months of summer break, along with parents trying to corral their wild children into a booth. Veronica wrinkled her nose at a kid pressing his face into a hot fudge sundae. She realized a line was starting at the register, two girls standing at the front, clearly wanting to leave with their ice cream, but a certain hair freak wasn't going to let them out of his flirtatious grasp. Now this, Veronica had to see.

"Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate." Steve announced, sending the girl in front with a mane of brown curls her ice cream cone. "That's a buck twenty-five."

Veronica watched the girl hand him two dollars as she slid in back of her friend, managing to hide behind another frizz ball of hair.

"Purdue? Fancy." He chuckled, pointing to the dark-haired girl's shirt.

"Yeah, I'm excited!" She nodded with a huge smile.

Steve continued to giggle, keeping eye contact with the girl, even though she was trying to look away. He took it as a sign of attraction. (Steve Harrington was an absolute whiz with the ladies.) "Yeah, you know ... I considered it. But then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real-life experience before I go to college." He began punching the change amount into the register. "See what it feels like to earn – I don't know – a working man's wage."

Veronica cocked her head to the side, brow creasing together. This wasn't going well for him.

The girls continued to stare at him, completely uninterested. Steve somehow managed to screw up the cashback and a receipt began to print out before the drawer opened. "Oh, sorry," he muttered, a deep crimson color appearing on his cheeks. "I just – um – I think that's, like, really important."

"Yeah, totally," the girl replied, trying to turn away.

"Yeah, anyways, this was, like, so fun." He released an awkward snort. "We should kinda, like – you know – I don't know. Maybe hang out this weekend or something?"

Instead of dropping the change in her hand, Steve ended up spilling her coins all over the counter, and the girl struggled to pick them up. Veronica turned her head down and pinched the bridge of her nose. What's wrong with him?

"I'm busy," the girl huffed, sending him a smile full of pity.

Veronica shook her head, That's gotta sting.

"Oh, yeah! That's cool. I'm actually working here this weekend, so ..." Steve shrugged, holding onto the conversation for dear life. "The following weekend is actually better for me."

The girl's friend itched the top of her head, shooting the curly-haired girl a look that probably insisted that they leave. Steve seemed oblivious to it.

"You know – um – did we have a class together at Hawkins?" He flashed his infamous smirk. "I'm – you know – Steve Harrington. Newly single."

"Sorry, I'm busy," the girl huffed, "most weekends."

With one last pitiful glance, the two teenaged girls walked away, sneakers squeaking against the clean, tiled floors. Their exit revealed Veronica Moreda, like a curtain opening up for a big show. If Steve had looked upset before, his face had sunken in even more now at the sight of his ex. Veronica tilted her head to the side, her messy ponytail moving along with her, as she approached the counter.

"Why so glum, chum?" She asked, pounding her fist onto the bell at the register.

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the ring to echo in his ears, before frowning. "Please, don't tell me you heard all of that."

"Regret to inform you, but I did." She curled her lips downward, watching his head fall for a moment. "What happened to King Steve? The guy who got all the girls in high school?"

Steve wanted to say that King Steve was no more, that he was crushed when his epic love story came crashing down into a pit of nothingness as reality hit both of their lives. But he didn't. He never would make her feel bad for chasing her dreams. Instead, he replied, "I think he died."

A tall blonde appeared from the back window, sliding a whiteboard in front of her. Veronica squinted and noticed one side was labeled, YOU RULE, while the other said, YOU SUCK. That section had a sufficient amount of tallies under it. "And another one bites the dust!" The girl exclaimed, red lips twisting into a delighted grin as she reached down to place another tally under YOU SUCK. "You are at ... six, Popeye. You know, that means, you suck."

"Yup, I get it!" Steve sighed, refusing to turn around and meet his coworker's gaze. Pointing a thumb in her direction, he said, "Ronnie, this is Robin. Robin, meet Ronnie."

Robin's mouth formed into a dramatic O-shape. "I loved watching you almost beat up that Hargrove guy in the hall last year. Oscar-worthy performance." She laughed, but Veronica hardly cracked a smile at the joke. (She'd rather not dwell on her quarrels with Billy last October.) "Oh, shit, Harrington. This is the Ronnie that squashed your teensy, little –"

"That's enough!" He stopped his coworker, spinning to lift his brow in her direction. "God, I don't know what's wrong. It's this stupid hat! I'm telling you, it's totally blowing my best feature. I wasn't called, 'the Hair,' for nothing."

"I know it's a crazy idea," Robin muttered, gesturing for him to come closer so Veronica wouldn't hear, "but have you ever considered not lying when you flirt? The truth can be sexy sometimes."

Steve leaned in and hoped his voice was soft enough that it wouldn't reach his ex-girlfriend's ears, all the while she stood by the counter, tapping her foot impatiently and hand hovering over the bell. "Oh, you mean that I couldn't even get into Tech and my douchebag dad's trying to teach me a lesson? I make three bucks an hour and I have no future, so I would appreciate if we could both just fib a little bit right now because my ex is standing at the counter and –"

Veronica cleared her throat, one brow lifted.

Sending Robin an awkward grin, Steve turned on the heel of his sneaker and leaned against the ice cream window. He ripped off his sailor hat, allowing it to slide across the floor, before giving Veronica that famous Harrington smile – something that she'd never admit made her crush on him in sophomore year of high school.

"So, what are you here for?" He asked, tone even, as if he wasn't completely dying inside. Veronica, coincidentally, felt the same way. "Another vanilla milkshake?"

Veronica shrugged. "No, actually," she replied, and Steve suddenly stopped reaching for a paper cup. "I came here for a job."

Robin released a loud, "Ha!", before slipping into the shadows of the back room.

Steve blinked. "Excuse me. Let me just make sure I heard that correctly –"

"It's my last option, Steve." She slapped her hands on her hips, shoulders sinking with defeat. "I've barely heard back from any of my other applications for a month. Every interview I've got has ended with an, 'I'm sorry, we cannot hire you at this time,' because something's so goddamn wrong with me. I need to start saving – like, now." Veronica huffed, and her mouth slowly twisted into a smile. "And you did say I could get the job easily ..."

"Say no more, Moreda." Steve's grin grew bigger than ever before. "You're hired."

•••

Veronica picked a framed photo off the coffee table in the living room. It had originally been torn in half, but a strong piece of invisible tape pieced it back together. The photo was from Louie's birth. Her mother's dark curls were pulled to the top of her head, and although that picture was in black and white, Veronica could tell her caramel-colored eyes were happy and full of tears. She held Louie tightly in her arms, tilting his small, wrapped-up form towards the camera. Edward was placing a kiss onto her mother's forehead, while a four-year-old Veronica squeezed onto the side of the hospital bed.

She remembered breaking the glass of the original frame this photo was in, before finally ripping it in two after her mom left. It had been her first act of rebellion. Edward had bought a new frame and taped the photo together again. Veronica always wondered why he did that, but it was at this time, as she was packing up her things to head towards her next big adventure when it finally became clear.

"Can I take this with me?"

Edward turned his head at Veronica's question. He was standing at the stove, stirring his famous homemade chili for dinner that night. When he raised his brow towards his daughter, she simply held up the old picture for him to see. Edward was surprised, but for only a moment. (Veronica learned how to hide her real feelings from the best, after all.)

"Uh – yeah, sure," he replied, mustache twitching as he turned back to the chili, bringing his nose close to take in a whiff. "Wouldn't have expected you to want that."

Veronica shrugged, striding into their small kitchen connected to the living room, and hopping up on the island countertop. "Neither did I," she exhaled and set the frame by her hip, "but people change, dad."

He shrugged. "I guess so."

Their conversations had been like this for almost a year – off and on, on and off. The adventure within the Upside Down had brought them closer, but the shared trauma somehow pushed them back. There was always a lingering tension in the air that they couldn't grasp. Veronica had never been appreciative of her father before last October, and although she was now, they still refused to speak about the revelations they experienced during the Halloween of 1984.

Drumming her fingers against her thigh, Veronica felt a bubble of anxiety explode in her stomach. She swallowed hard, and the sudden silence in the air had Edward scrunching his brow together. He looked at Veronica with suspicion. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

"Well ..." She paused, refusing to make eye contact with him for multiple seconds. "I got a job."

Edward's back went rigid. "Where?"

Her stare flickered to his, and she bit down on her bottom lip. Clearing her throat, she finally replied, "Scoops Ahoy."

"Oh, Ronnie ..." Edward looked up to the ceiling and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is a terrible idea. You're going to work with the guy who broke your heart!"

Veronica's brow knitted together. "I broke up with him, dad."

Edward looked away for a moment, processing the information, before turning back to her. "Same difference!"

"It's not, actually –"

"This is not going to end well," Edward continued, gesturing with his hands. "I know you're sad that you broke up with Steve, but working with your ex is horrible. Trust me, I know from experience. There has to be another place we can find for you. Did you hear back from –"

Veronica jumped down from the counter. "Dad, I'm eighteen. I'm an adult. I really don't need you to lecture me on the struggles of working with your ex." She crossed her arms over her chest. "No one was getting back to me, and those that did decided not to hire me as soon as I walked into an interview. I was hired on the spot at Scoops Ahoy, and I don't have much time left before move-in day."

"Well," Edward huffed, placing a cover on the pot of chili, "maybe if you decided to clean up a little, get rid of the blue hair ..."

"This conversation is fucking stupid," she scoffed, rolling her eyes and making way for the door. Edward watched her with a confused expression as she yanked open the front door, allowing the eighty-degree heat to drift in. "I'm going for a walk."

Edward lifted a hand up. "It's dark out," he called from the kitchen. "What about dinner? I didn't mean to upset you, Ronnie. Just come back and we can –"

Veronica didn't expect to slam the door so loud in his face.

•••

Despite earning her license just a few months prior, Veronica still preferred walking to zooming around in a motor vehicle. She felt like she could enjoy the scenery more, take in the little things that made Hawkins unique. She liked to walk through the heart of town and remember old times, like when her family was together or when she wasn't plagued by nightmares.

Veronica stubbed out her cigarette before pushing open the door to the 7-Eleven right down the street from her house. The bell above the door rang at her entrance, and she quickly made her way to the back of the store, where the slushie machine was located. Sometimes, she liked to come here with Steve on a Friday night, and they would carbo-load on slushies and 7-Eleven's "homemade" fries, instead of attending one of Carol's lame parties. Veronica placed a cup underneath the cherry spout, remembering when she told Steve that it was the supreme flavor of slushie.

She filled her cup up to the brink with red slush, slapping a circular lid on the top with a straw. Taking a long sip, Veronica was suddenly reminded how the leftover taste of nicotine on her tongue never tasted well with a slushie, but it would fade away in a few minutes. She approached the register, where a pudgy, grey-haired man licked his lips as he watched her walk over, and gave the cashier seventy-five cents before exiting the convenience store. Her cigarette was smushed right by the door.

The sight of it almost made her pull out another, even as she sucked on her slushie and dangled the straw in between her teeth. As she began to reach into the pocket of her shorts for her pack, a pair of bright headlights flashed right into her eyes.

Veronica stepped back, holding a hand out to shield herself from the light, as the familiar Camaro pulled in front of her. Bringing her hand back down, she met the fiery gaze of Billy Hargrove through the windshield. He stepped out of his car and slammed the door, blowing out smoke from a lit cigarette in his hand. "Fancy seeing you here, Moreda," he muttered.

She rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to throw a few insults his way, but decided that it wasn't worth her time. Taking a large gulp of her slushie, Veronica turned on her heel to walk away, unaware that Billy was following a few feet behind in the parking lot.

"Hey, Moreda, can you spot me a quarter?" He asked, cigarette hanging from his bottom lip. Veronica turned with a quirked brow. "I only got a dollar on me for a pack."

As much as she'd rather do anything but hand him change, Veronica figured the faster she gave him a quarter, the faster she could leave this parking lot and drink her slushie. Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out a shiny new quarter and slapped it into his palm. Her dark eyes scanned his outfit. "Who are you all gussied up for?" She asked, chewing on her straw.

Billy tilted his head to the side. "I'm giving a total MILF private swimming lessons. I'm an expert with the breaststroke." He grinned, revealing his set of pearly whites. "Thankfully, I found someone like her who was grateful enough to learn from me. You know, since you didn't want my lessons."

"I see," Veronica nodded. She almost wanted to throw up at the thought of him getting it on with someone's mom, and she hoped to God that he was just pulling a prank on her, but something in his eyes said otherwise.

He threw his cigarette to the cement and stomped on it with his boot. "The offer's still open, you know."

Veronica opened her mouth and made a gagging gesture with her finger. "I'll pass."

Perhaps, walking away in that moment was one of the best decisions she made, in more ways than one.

•••

A/N: Why did all those girls make fun of Steve in his Scoops outfit and refused to go out with him like GIRL he looked so cute in it 😤 They got NO TASTE 😤

( made by JustSav )