CHAPTER 26
ON THE HOUSE

FEBRUARY 1985

"I can feel the dye soaking into my gloves, Ronnie."

Veronica Moreda lifted a perfectly trimmed eyebrow in her boyfriend's direction. They stood in front of her large vanity mirror in the bathroom right next to her room, both giving each other dramatic looks in the reflection. A box of cheap L'Oréal hair dye laid on the sink counter, ripped open with contents spilling out of it. Veronica – quite stupidly, she must admit – enlisted her boyfriend's help to dye her hair back to its usual bright blue, seeing as her roots had grown out halfway down her hairline. It wasn't really her thing to care about the fading, or her natural dark brown color showing, but she figured it was time for a much-needed dye job.

Steve Harrington didn't know anything about hair dye. Give him a can of Farrah Fawcett hair spray and he was golden. But he began to realize, as his gloved hands followed Veronica's and massaged the thick, blue liquid into her scalp, that dying hair certainly wasn't his expertise. It was way too messy for him.

"As long as you have the gloves on, you'll be fine." She persuaded, flicking him off with a gloved hand. "I've been using this dye for over a year now. I think I know what I'm doing."

He squeezed a dollop of blue dye into his palm and pinched it into the ends of her hair. "Don't you ever want to grow out your natural color?" He asked, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "Show people the real Ronnie Moreda."

Veronica picked up the half-lit cigarette from the ashtray she brought from her bedroom. Placing the filter in between her chapped lips, she took a deep inhale and coughed out the rest into her arm. "I like remaining a mystery," she said, clearing her throat from the deadly nicotine that she grew fond of. "Showing the student body something like, let's say, my natural hair color is like getting to the end of a Sherlock Holmes novel. Then, I'll just be ... ordinary. I don't wanna be ordinary."

She passed him the cigarette, which he took willingly, but only released a small puff of smoke out of his thin lips. He wasn't much of a smoker anymore. Veronica noticed that he wasn't looking at her anymore, causing her to lift a brow and smooth out the dye into her roots. "Do you not like the blue?"

Steve's eyes almost bugged out of his skull. "No! No, that's not what I'm saying –"

"Because I don't really care if you don't," she continued. "I stopped caring what people think a long time ago. I just wish you would tell me."

He could tell her anger was flaring up. Many people couldn't handle Veronica Moreda's random outbursts, but Steve could. He understood her like no one else, and although she'd never admit it, she was grateful.

(And she might've just been in love with him for that.)

"No, Ronnie, it's just ..." He flicked a few ashes into the tray on the counter, setting the cigarette on the rim. Veronica spun on her heel to face him, arms crossed over her chest. He didn't realize until then that she was wearing one his shirts that he lent her on a night she stayed over his house – thankfully, when his parents hadn't been home. He smiled softly. "What are you gonna do when you have to apply to jobs?"

"They can accept my blue hair or they can't have me."

Steve blinked. "That's not exactly how it works –"

Veronica let out a groan of frustration and swiftly turned back to the mirror, looking to her cuticles as a way of distraction. Her hair was slicked back with blue, the color sinking deep into her scalp, and also dripping slightly onto the hem of her shirt. Veronica took off her plastic gloves as her boyfriend sighed sadly.

"Hey, Veronica."

She met his stare in the mirror again. Steve picked up two ends of her hair and created a mustache over his lip. Veronica did her best to keep her jaw clenched, but it was so hard when she was dating one of the most handsome idiots in all of Hawkins. Never did she think she'd be in a situation where Steve "the Hair" Harrington was trying his damnedest to make her laugh.

Veronica released a loud giggle before elbowing him softly in the gut. The room reeked of cheap air freshener and nicotine, but the two still found the urge to smile. Steve stifled a chuckle at the impact. "God, I hate you sometimes," she whispered.

"You love me, but that's okay too."

She swallowed hard, grabbing the cigarette once again. Smoke billowed from her mouth like a chimney, but their eyes were attracted to each other like magnets, and she still managed to catch his stare through the gray clouds circling the grimy bathroom. "You're right," she said, almost automatically, as if some force was yanking her mouth open to spill her greatest secrets. "I do."

Steve was – quite frankly – stunned. Both knew that Veronica Moreda was never one to admit feelings lightly, nor was she the type to get attached in the first place. But this boy – this dumb, stupid, Indiana boy with great hair and a quirky smile – he was the end of it all for her. She couldn't stop these feelings, and she couldn't take them back, no matter how much she wanted to. Her hard shell was cracking, and for the first time, she wanted it to happen.

"You do," Steve repeated. "I just want to make sure I'm hearing this correctly –"

"Please, don't make me say it again," Veronica begged, covering her face with her hands. She lifted her head just a bit and peeked through the gaps in her fingers, cheeks turning red the longer he smiled at her. "Can you tell I'm embarrassed?"

Steve ripped off the dye-covered gloves and pried her hands away from her face. He exhaled happily, watching as Veronica's blush crept up and over her nose. "I love you too, Ronnie." He whispered, holding her chin in between his thumb and forefinger. Veronica chewed on her bottom lip. "I think you just might be, like, my epic love story."

•••

Just five months later, Veronica Moreda was smoking the same brand of cigarettes, allowing the second to last one in the pack to hang loosely in between her dry lips. Looking down, she smoothed out the crumpled edges of the polaroid in her hands, which used to reside right next to the framed picture of Louie on her bedside table. She looked happy in the photo, her high school graduation cap tipped slightly to the side, her dad squeezing her ever-so-tightly with a smile on his face that screamed, That's my kid!

Veronica inhaled too deeply and coughed loudly, rubbing at her chest while keeping the polaroid still locked between her two fingers. She glanced back at it and shook her head. Thank god, that shithole is over, she thought to herself, incredibly grateful that she'd never have to walk the halls of Hawkins High ever again. That school may have given her a lot of good things – a few nice friends along the way, a relationship that felt like a lifetime, adventures she'd never forget – but she'd also be haunted by the memories of death, destruction, and a ruined reputation.

Now, Veronica Moreda has seen a lot of bullshit. Angel dust. Switchblades. Sexually perverse photography involving tennis rackets. But nothing compared to what she saw last fall. She'd still have nightmares about the Halloween of 1982 and the sight of her brother's corpse deep within a terrifying world that rested right below their feet. Veronica would be reminded of her years in high school forever.

She walked over to one of the few boxes that were scattered all over her room. She planned to fill this one with photos that she'd hang in her college dorm room, and just as Veronica bent down to place the polaroid of her and Edward at graduation inside the box, she noticed two fingers behind her cap, throwing up a peace sign. Veronica recognized that hand anywhere. She bit down with hesitation, forming another painful crack in her lips.

Breaking up with Steve was for the best – really, it was. She wasn't just trying to convince herself of that. Veronica knew that she couldn't maintain a long-distance relationship the second she got her acceptance letter, as well as a grant for federal aid, to Clarion University in Pennsylvania. They both knew it was only a matter of time. Veronica thought it was better to simply cut the cord, instead of stringing each other along all summer, knowing fully well how it would end in September.

She didn't want to break up with him. In fact, it killed her inside, though she hardly expressed it. But it needed to be done.

College would help her move on. She was sure of it. Veronica dropped the polaroid into the box, walking away before she analyzed her ex-boyfriend's photobomb yet again. She was only packing the essentials, and she figured it would be good to start early, rather than waiting until the last second like she usually did. Four cardboard boxes resided in a corner of her room, collecting dust as the days went by.

Veronica wiped the sweat off her brow and turned her fan up higher. She stubbed her cigarette into the ashtray, knowing fully well that the fan would just continue to blow it out. Maybe it was a good thing. She was trying to quit anyways, seeing as a lot of college campuses were now going smoke-free. (A bunch of buzzkills, she'd say.) But smoking cigarettes was almost like putting down a pet to Veronica: you only do it until you absolutely had to. So ... she wasn't intent on quitting anytime soon.

The door cracked open, and with it came Edward Moreda's head peeking in. Veronica looked over her shoulder and casually moved in front of her ashtray when she noticed her father.

"I see you've been packing," he said, sticking his long neck out to see the boxes she already taped up. He wasn't wearing his deputy uniform, which meant today must've been one his few off days.

Veronica tucked a stray blue hair behind her ear. "Trying to get a head start."

Edward inhaled, taking in the scent of nicotine, but deciding to ignore it. He stopped trying to get her to quit what seemed like ages ago. "Well," he cleared his throat, "you ready to go soon? Starcourt closes today at seven."

"Yeah, yeah. Give me a few minutes."

Edward sent her a curt nod before shutting the door. Veronica slapped her hands over her face and groaned. College was supposed to be her fresh-start (yet again), but everything related to it made her feel like the world was imploding upon itself. She had absolutely no idea what she wanted to do with her life. How could she when she had only just turned eighteen a few months back? She couldn't be a real adult; it just wasn't possible. What kind of insane person agrees to go to the first college that accepts them without any knowledge of what they want to do with their future?

Veronica Moreda, that's who.

•••

The Starcourt Mall was the new happening place in all of Hawkins. Although it was the demise of many local businesses that Veronica grew to love and enjoy, she did admit that it was pretty cool. Veronica had protested the building of it at first, refusing to step within ten feet of its vicinity, but she eventually gave up when informed that her favorite Chinese Food place, Tiki Palace, moved there. She could only be strong for so long.

The new mall also housed one of Indiana's biggest furniture outlet stores, Ricky's Etc., and Veronica had to give up her protest for the seventh time so her dad could buy her some cheap furniture for her future dorm room. "Maybe you could also see if anyone's hiring," Edward had mentioned in the car, shrugging absentmindedly. "The mall is right down the street. Would be a good place for a summer job before school."

Sure, Veronica was desperate for a job at the moment – I mean, it was almost halfway into summer and her applications didn't even garner a call back – but she wouldn't give in to working at a big name brand or corporation that couldn't give a rat's ass about her as long as she came in for a shift. That wasn't just a spoke in her menstrual cycle; that was real life. She rolled her eyes at Edward's comment. Why is he pulling my dick?

They managed to find an old desk and chair, as well as a couple of bean bags, all in her favorite color. (Blue, if it wasn't obvious.) The items were to be delivered to their house within the week. Despite the musty smell that wafted off of the bean bags, Veronica was happy with their purchases. She was somewhat excited to place her new furniture in her dorm, but the reality of it all only made her want to be farther away from it.

It was around six PM when Veronica and Edward exited Ricky's Etc. They stood in the middle of the food court, ogling the bright, flashing lights of the signs around them, all highlighting different fast food chains. Veronica's sweet tooth ached at the sight of an ice cream parlor just feet from them. Damn, she thought to herself, I haven't had a good milkshake in years. The local parlor in Hawkins Square, Delilah's, was supposed to house homemade ice cream, but it always tasted like expired milk.

She met Edward's eyes, who shrugged in her direction. "What?"

"I could really go for a vanilla milkshake right now."

"So?"

Veronica snickered, spinning on her heel to walk in the direction of the newest ice cream parlor, Scoops Ahoy. Edward sighed loudly from his stance behind her, "What about dinner, Veronica?"

"What about dinner?" She chuckled, sliding on the balls of her feet to stop in front of the entrance of the parlor. It was nautical themed with paintings of sand and turquoise waves covering the walls of the joint. Each booth was decorated to look like a barrel, with shells dotting the top of the seats.

Perfect place for a bunch of kids, Veronica thought to herself, surprised that she didn't see the group of familiar teens that she got to know last fall. Another thing that was probably for the best. They were good kids, but ... the sight of them just reminded her of things that she wanted to forget.

The parlor was hardly packed, probably due to the mall closing in just under an hour. It was a Sunday, after all. Veronica had just enough cash in her back pocket to pay for a milkshake – hopefully. A dollar and fifty cents could only get you in their growing economy, and she wasn't about to ask her dad for some money after he just spent a couple hundred on thrifted furniture. She pushed through the crowded tables of the ice cream joint, carelessly bumping into a familiar-looking little girl that screamed for Veronica to "keep her big butt out of her face." Veronica crept away quickly before finally approaching the empty counter.

She waited for a minute, glancing around the counter and bending over to make sure no one was hiding below it. When no one showed, she lightly pressed her hand onto the bell, right next to the cash register. Turning around, she began to dig through her back pocket for her cash, when she finally heard the doors to the back room swing open. She almost jumped out of her skin the second she spun back to the employee.

"Ronnie?" Steve quirked a brow upward, quickly adjusting the sailor hat on his head with the word, Ahoy, embroidered on the rim. He began to fidget, drumming his fingers against his right hip as his left arm leaned casually against the counter.

"Steve?" Veronica almost choked on the spit inside her mouth. The change in her hands suddenly slipped from her grip, spilling over the counter. She tried her best to catch it, carefully sliding the coins back into her hands before she came off as awkward. (Too late for that, she supposed.) Her mouth felt dry. "I – um – I didn't know you worked here."

Steve nodded slowly. "Yeah, well – I needed a summer job and Scoops really didn't have any credentials needed." He licked at his lips, which suddenly felt like a barren wasteland. "Gotta pay the bills somehow while everyone's away at –" He stopped himself before he could say more, but both of them knew what word was hanging off his tongue.

Veronica frowned, bobbing her head up and down, and suddenly paying such close attention to her chipped fingernail polish.

He cleared his throat. "Are you –" Steve paused for a short second. "Are you here to see me, Ronnie?"

Her head flew upwards, that familiar angered stare meeting his grin. "What? No! I had no idea you even worked here –"

"– Because it's okay if you are. It's normal for your ex to sometimes miss your company." He shrugged, one side of his lips pulling into a smirk. "You know, this uniform is a total chick magnet."

Veronica narrowed her eyes. "I bet it is, Harrington." She placed her dollar and fifty cents on the clean counter and slid it forward. "Actually, I came here for a milkshake.

"Vanilla?"

She paused, watching him already grab the blender cup and yank the door open to the ice cream window. "Uh – yeah," she stuttered. She almost wished he hadn't remembered her favorite ice cream flavor, just to see if fate would give her a sign: something that told her that breaking up would be good for them in the long run. Currently, fate seemed to be fucking her gently.

Steve dug out a handful of scoops from the vanilla ice cream tub and popped them into the blender, before finally adding a handful of milk and cinnamon at the top. "So what are you doing at Starcourt?" He asked, dusting off his hands on his tiny, blue sailor shorts. "I thought you despised, like, all big-name corporations?"

"Oh, I do. Trust me." She pointed a stern finger in his direction before shredding her cool demeanor and shrugged. "My dad wanted to visit that thrift furniture store. We bought some things for my dorm room."

Steve pursed his lips, trying his best not to stare at her with the same hope and affection he used just a month prior. Veronica never felt so small until that moment, and found herself looking away to run a hand through her faded hair. He stepped forward, gaining her attention again, but almost tumbled into the counter when the blender went off.

"Oh, shit, yeah," he mumbled to himself, scurrying over to the blender and grabbing a large Scoops Ahoy cup. He poured the frothy white milkshake into the cup, careful not to spill any on the clean worktop that Robin had just washed, and secured it with a lid and straw. Steve spun on his heel, inhaling her usual aroma of nicotine and cherries, before opening his mouth to say, "Ronnie, I –"

"God, Veronica! How long does it take to get a ­–"

Edward Moreda halted to a stop beside his daughter. He already began to send Steve a glare, one that screamed of threats and violence, despite both of them knowing that Steve did nothing to upset him in the past. Edward just didn't like teenaged boys, nor did he like his daughter around teenaged boys, as any father would.

"Mr. Harrington," Edward said through clenched teeth, "what a surprised."

Steve saluted his ex-girlfriend's dad. "Hey there, Mr. Moreda."

Edward quickly turned back to his daughter, wagging a finger in her direction. "Now, Veronica, as much as I know you want this milkshake for some goddamn reason, we should be spending this time to look around for any job openings before the mall closes."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know –"

"You're looking for a job?"

Both whipped their heads in Steve's direction. Veronica lifted a brow, "Yeah, so?"

"You could work here," Steve suggested, smile widening, "at Scoops."

"Uh –" She scratched the top of her head, right where her dark brown roots were growing in. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea."

Edward nodded. "I completely agree."

"I know the manager really well," Steve continued. "I can basically guarantee you the job."

Veronica was left speechless, throat aching to scream, I'll take it, but all she could do was open her mouth slightly. Edward, however, responded for her. "That's not necessary. We're leaving!"

She blinked her eyes rapidly, realizing that her father was already halfway from dragging her outside of the ice cream parlor. Pulling her arm back, she seethed, "Dad, stop being such an –"

"Hey, Ronnie!"

She turned, eyes focusing right on the milkshake cup that Steve was waving in her direction. Veronica sent Edward a scowl before trotting back to the counter to retrieve her milkshake. She pushed the money further towards him, but all he did was slide the cup her way.

"Don't worry about it," he replied softly. "It's on the house."

•••

A/N: HEY Y'ALL!!!!!! WE OUT HERE WITH BOOK II!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know, I know – y'all hate me for breaking them up in Season 3, but it made for good angst and someone like Ronnie wouldn't stay with a guy, knowing fully well that they would break up before going to college. She's an Independent 💅🏼 Woman 💅🏼

But, again – this all will make for some GUCCI ANGST!!!!! Which, as you can tell, is my fave thing to write 🤭🤭🤭 I can't wait to incorporate the ex-lovers tension with the Scoops Gang mystery. It's gonna be fun!!

I hope you guys are just as excited for Book II as I am!

( made by JustSav )