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˚⋆ ┊ ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING ┊ ⋆˚
☆⋅⋆ ─ act i. don't you want me, baby?

CHAPTER SIX - silence quite this loud
( episode three ; the pollywog )

❀

⠀ ⠀ THE FAMILIAR SPINNING OF A REGRETFUL HANGOVER was what awoke Peyton on November 1st of 1984. Cool fingertips pressing into her forehead, she forced herself to sit up, scanning the room only to be filled with an unsettling sense of dread. She hadn't been led to her own home that night. No, this was something much worse.

Memories fragmented like glass shards that felt impossible to piece together without getting hurt. The winter sun had risen on the Byers' home that morning, seeping through the gaps in the living-room curtains as Peyton soon realized she was, in fact, lying on a couch, not a bed. Still in her costume from the night before, although make-up and hair were severely smudged and knotted, the exhausted blonde slowly slid from the sofa to the floor, trying her best not to make a sound.

This wasn't the first time she'd spent the night at the Byers' home. In fact, family 'sleepovers' had become an unfortunate yet regular occurrence in both of their family homes. She knew for a fact that there would be spare clothes for school in Will's bedroom. However, that risked waking the youngest Byers boy, who had severe trouble sleeping anyway. Shuffling quietly through the halls, Peyton's worry soon became reality when she found that Will had awoken anyway, prior to her attempt to stay quiet.

"Hey," she whispered, jacket tightly gripped between folded arms as she leaned against the doorframe, "You supposed to be up at this time?" eyes darting to the clock to find that, being 6am, she'd only managed to get just over three and a half hours of sleep. It also meant she didn't have long before everybody else in the house had to be up and ready for work/school.

"Are you?" the preteen fired back, although there was no maliciousness behind his words. Proud yet amused smile plastered on her features, Peyton pretended to glare in a way she knew would put a grin on Will's face.

"Touché, little man," crossing the room, Peyton crouched down to sift through the cluttered bottom shelf containing spare clothes that she could only hope Joyce had been kind enough to wash. Opting for the smell test, Peyton deemed the clothes she had picked out clean enough with a quick shrug, getting to her feet to see Will had been watching her with a completely befuddled expression the entire time.

"What happened to your face?" Peyton froze. She'd somehow managed to forget that getting punched in the face several times was bound to leave some kind of mark. She only hoped it was the kind that was easy to lie her way out of with an I tripped or It was an accident.

But rather than offering reassurance, Peyton simply shot him a quick wink, bolting toward the door with crinkled clothes fumbling in her hands, "I was never here," having left before he could argue, Peyton rushed into the bathroom, still silently hoping that she could somehow sneak out and pretend that she'd slept at Joey's house as per the agreement she'd made with her father.

But luck had a habit of not at all being on her side.

She'd barely made it to the door when footsteps far too loud to be Will's approached from behind. Face twisting in regret, Peyton slowly spun on her heel to take a look at the disappointed expression on her dad's face. Already dressed, there was no way he hadn't already heard her at some point in her efforts to get ready unnoticed.

"Morning?"

"Morning," repeated Bob, "That's it?" becoming rather defensive, Peyton could feel anxiety bubbling in the pit of her stomach. She never fought with her dad, not ever. In all her life she'd never seen him this angry. He wasn't even yelling at her. Bob Newby had never been that kind of father. But the sense of anger and profound disappointment lingered in the air, no matter how hard Peyton tried to ignore it and get the hell out of the house, "Where were you last night?" Shrugging it off, Peyton only pulled the strap of her backpack tightly around her shoulder, becoming defensive as she made a beeline for the kitchen,

"Joey's,"

Deeming this an unacceptable answer, Bob followed closely behind his daughter, pushing for answers, "I told you to be home by eleven. And instead, I hear you stumble into Joyce's home at almost 3 o'clock in the morning?"

Peyton had a habit of deflecting blame when things truly were her fault. She was in the wrong, no doubt, but her stubborn nature clouded any good judgment left. Anger still fizzling from the events of the night before, Peyton, more accidentally than angrily, slammed her backpack onto the kitchen table, grabbing an apple for her travels although her father stood firmly in her way.

"It's not a big deal," she insisted with an infuriating eye roll, "I lost track of time and Jo offered-"

"I don't care!" Bob finally snapped, still yet to shout although raising his voice, "You didn't call. Or ask. Joyce was worried sick. I was worried sick!"

Beginning to panic, the last thing Peyton wanted was to break down in front of not only her father, but the entire Byers family, her anxiety still coming across defensive, "I- I'm sorry!" she sputtered, although in all her efforts to seem unbothered her words sounded venomous and ingenuine, even if that wasn't the case.

Bob stared at her for a long moment, as though holding back all the hurtful things a terrible father would say. Because Peyton knew he would never, ever, say anything to hurt her. But that didn't mean he was beyond punishing her.

"Give me your keys," heart sinking into her stomach, Peyton's poker face fell for only a moment. Her car wasn't just something that took her to and from school. It was her escape. The very essence of her freedom depended on her possessing those pieces of jagged metal.

"Dad!" but her protest was worthless. He'd already made up his mind, and had clearly lost all patience to continue arguing any further.

"Give them to me," somehow remaining calm, Bob held out his hand expectantly as Peyton tried to ignore the seeming judgemental eyes of the Byers boys in her peripheral vision

"How am I supposed to get to school?"

"Jonathan can take you,"

"That's bullshit!" her cursing the final nail in the coffin, Bob doubled down on his insistence for the keys.

"Hey!" tone loud enough to make Peyton flinch, the blonde noticed the hint of guilt behind his disappointed gaze, "Keys. Now," jaw tightly clenched, Peyton considered for a long moment whether just to storm out the door, keys and all, because lord knows there was absolutely nothing her father could do to physically stop her.

But she just couldn't.

Nor could she bring herself to apologize. Peyton had never been one to treat situations such as this with a be the bigger person mentality. Not that it was a common occurrence for teens to have to be the bigger person regarding their parents. That being said, Peyton wasn't about to give up her keys without her usual amount of attitude.

"Whatever," carelessly, she tossed the keys to her father (if she'd thrown them at him she'd be in even more serious shit than she already was) who caught them haphazardly.

Before any more words could be exchanged, and the infuriated blonde ended up even deeper into the voluminous hole she'd dug for herself, Peyton stormed carelessly past whoever it was in her way. She hadn't meant to slam the front door behind her, that could be blamed on her heavy-handedness and lack of emotional control.

And yet, rather than a quiet drive with her brother she found herself leaning against the hood of Jonathan Byers' car, steam practically bellowing from her ears like an angered cartoon.

Peyton was thankful when the first person to leave the Byers' home that morning was, in fact, Jonathan. Nods spoke louder than words, neither one having a whole lot to say to the other as they climbed in, doors slamming simultaneously. Hand lingering on the ignition for a moment, Jonathan glanced at his would-be stepsister with a hint of guilt on his features.

"Why didn't you tell them?"

"Hmm?"

"What happened,"

Right... the whole fighting a girl in the middle of a party thing.

Guiltily, Jonathan averted his gaze once fixed on the road, despite him having not started the car yet, to look at his tearful friend, "Why you left before I did,"

Peyton shrugged, "I could've waited,"

"Who took you, anyway?" the sandy blonde froze up for a moment. She couldn't actually tell Jonathan that she'd let Steve Harrington of all people drive her home. He and Jonathan certainly weren't on the best terms either, what with them both being in love with the same girl and all.

No, this was just another opportunity to get again lie her ass off to the people most important to her, "Joey,"

"Peyton-"

"Look, man," Peyton didn't mean to laugh, but it had gotten to the point that, if she didn't, she'd most definitely have a breakdown then and there, "I have had a shitty night, and an even shittier morning and I really don't feel like talking about it through the splitting headache infiltrating my brain so could you please just drive us to school before I decide I don't want to resist the urge to jump out of a moving vehicle anymore!" the anxious blonde hadn't realized just how starved for breath she was until her sentence was over. And yet, much to her relief, Jonathan didn't seem upset or offended by her outburst at all. If anything, there was a profound sense of understanding. Respect for her accidental vulnerability and a reassuring smile. The Byers boy finally started the car, ignition loud enough to drown out the deep exhale Peyton had let out as her thumb traced lightly over her still freshly wounded knuckles. Gaze glued to whatever happened to pass by her window, Peyton found herself finally alone with her thoughts for the first time in a good few days.

❀

⠀ ⠀ PHYS ED HAD LONG BEEN ONE OF PEYTON'S LEAST favorite subjects. Not because of the whole exercising part. She'd actually grown up rather athletic. But she favored swimming, track, tennis... anything that didn't involve her being a team player. Because when even she could admit she took competitiveness to a whole new level.

A trait shared by her enemy with benefits and fellow anger issues ignorer. Billy 'put a god damn shirt on' Hargrove. Determined to not only dethrone the Harrington boy, but destroy his reputation completely. Billy made sure to knock him on his ass, in front of everyone no doubt, at every opportunity he had.

Falling to the ground with a crowd silencing thud, Joey grimaced from her spot next to Peyton, clenched fist brought toward her mouth as her blonde best friend couldn't help but snicker in amusement. But the sound of laughter simply added fuel to the already roaring fire, especially when Billy had leaped into the air, sending the basketball flying through the hoop with ease

"Whoo! That's what I'm talking about!" although, much to Billy's dismay, Peyton looked just about as impressed that Steve had fallen on his ass than she did the Hargrove boy's basket.

"Steve?"

The sudden angered yell from the other side of the hall had everyone's attention, various students already beginning to gossip about the lovers' quarrel between the king and queen of Hawkins High. Reluctant to follow at first, Peyton decided to take it upon herself to ensure the team opposing Billy didn't lose a member

"Stepping in for Harrington," she smirked, walking backward as it faded to a brow-raised glower aimed at none other than the aforementioned Harrington boy himself. Just as she'd suspected, all animosity that existed before their momentary lapse into niceness

Whatever argument the king and queen of Hawkins High were having wasn't audible from within the gym. But after a few minutes, Peyton found it much harder to concentrate on basketball when all she could bring herself to worry about was Nancy. Even if Steve was beginning to change, Peyton had yet to forgive him for being so mean the year before. Besides, Billy had done all but actually pull her pigtails in his pre-school level attempts at irritating her for attention.

If they were losing with Steve on the team, imagine their dismay when Billy was especially motivated by the addition of the girl that so graciously dumped his ass just the night before. Every time she managed to get her hands on the ball, it was as if Billy had heard his teammates into only allowing himself to try and steal it from her, pressing his chest into her shoulder, her back, increasing proximity every chance he got. Other girls called her lucky, she could see their whispers, their smirks, but lucky was the last word that came to mind with Billy's never-ending taunting. It would be different, had he not said all those hurtful just hours ago. He hadn't apologized, much less asked for forgiveness. And yet, he was acting as though she hadn't made it very clear she wanted nothing more to do with him.

Reaching a breaking point, Peyton slammed the basketball into the glossy wood with all her might, sneakers squeaking as she made a point of slamming her shoulder into Billy's to push past him. But even then, she caught a glimpse of his amused smirk, the ball landing between cocky fingertips.

Heading out the door she'd seen Steve and Nancy leave through, Peyton hadn't realized just how heated she'd become until cool the November air hit her shining cheeks. Silence was what she opted for when her heels had yet to touch the gravel as she tiptoed, back pressed against the cool brick

"Well, then tell me,"

"Tell you what?"

"You love me,"

The long uncomfortable pause that followed made Peyton regret coming outside at all

"Really?"

Reassured by her tone that Nancy could handle herself, Peyton almost made it back in time before overhearing the words, "You know, I could be pissed that you drove a girl like Peyton Evans home instead of me, but I trust you! Why can't you trust me?"

A girl like Peyton Evans...

There was no doubt in what she meant by those words. It wasn't like she needed a can of spray paint and a ladder to graffiti the word Peyton heard whispered about her every single day. Usually, she'd spark up yet another fight to defend her dignity. But she was just so fucking tired of trying to prove herself; prove that she was a good person. And if that was how her friends spoke about her when she wasn't listening, what were the people that really didn't like her saying?

Wry chuckle blowing her cover, Steve and Nancy both turned their heads with guilt-stricken expressions, especially the Wheeler girl, who Peyton was beginning to suspect meant to do more harm to Steve than anyone with her accusations, "A girl like me, huh?"

"Peyton-"

"They want you back in there, Harrington," interrupted the blonde, desperately changing the subject as the feeling of betrayal truly sunk in, "That asshole is kicking their asses, so..."

"Yeah..." Steve nodded, looking from Peyton to what he now assumed was his ex-girlfriend as he gripped the towel that he'd draped around his neck, holding it tightly in his fist, "I think that you're bullshit," he pointed, walking toward Peyton with an apologetic gaze that was only met with a deadpan stare. She didn't have it in her to be angry anymore.

At least, that's what she'd hoped.

Jacob Wheeler was never someone Peyton had thought to be the confrontational type. But there was no room for her to pass judgment; if he was pissed about what she thought he was pissed about? Nancy was his family, his twin. He was bound to be protective.

"What the hell did you say to my sister?" confused for a moment, it soon clicked who Steve found himself talking to. Nancy and Jacob were on rather opposite ends of the popularity scale. Which meant that, prior to the life-changing near-death experiences last year, King Steve wouldn't have been caught dead hanging around with the likes of him, girlfriend's brother or not.

"Look, man, I didn't do anything. She's the one that-"

"But you ditched her this morning?" More concerned that Steve was about to deck her friend, Peyton once again found herself with no other choice than to insert herself directly in the line of trouble

"Easy, Wheeler," concern coming across as protective, Billy was next to let out a loud chuckle, basketball game forgotten completely when he too swaggered toward the confrontation

"What the hell do you care?" he questioned, earning a glower from his former fling

"I don't," replied the blonde, arms folded across her chest defensively

"What, you're on his side now?" it didn't take long for Peyton to realize that Billy had taken her words as protection for Steve rather than Jacob

Head shaking in disbelief at just how easy it was to damage Billy's fragile ego, "I'm not on anyone's side, I just don't think that gym class is an appropriate place to be having a fight," amused by her choice of wording, Jacob decided to give yet another reminder that it wasn't only those involved that knew of her violent actions the night before

"Cause you know all the best places to have fights, right Evans?" holding back the urge to smack the smug smile off his face, Peyton took a step back, ignoring the way Steve seemed prepared to hold her back once again

"Oh, fuck you!"

"Hey!" familiar voice sending a wave of relief escaped the Evans girl's lips, turning to see her best friend approaching, glowering at the boys before a gentle hand met Peyton's elbow, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," reassured Peyton which, for some selfish reason, pissed Billy off even more

"Why don't you mind your business?" petty tone the turning point, Peyton quickly gave up on all hopes of being calmed to come to her friend's defense, stood in front of her with pure hatred in her eyes

"Why don't you suck my dick?" various snickers from their classmates and Billy's shocked yet infuriated silence sent Peyton's brows sky high, communicating a say something else, I dare you attitude with only her expression.

Cocky as ever, Jacob's word came out faster than his thoughts, not processing the amount of trouble a simple joke could get him into, "Didn't know you were into that, Hargrove," eyes suddenly widened, Peyton found herself more worried for Jacob than when Steve was the only person he'd managed to piss off.

Before anyone had time to breathe, Billy had tackled Jacob to the ground, taking Steve down with them who, inadvertently, sent both Peyton and Joey falling on their asses too. Lucky for them, not underneath the pile of squirming boys who, for some reason, decided squeaking and squabbling on the ground was better than a swift punch to the face.

"Get... off!" voice strained from the pressure of two young men on top of him, Steve had no choice but to defend himself, knee slamming into Jacob's groin in a way that made all spectators wince in sympathy.

That was about to hurt for days.

And all it earned him was an elbow to the eye from Billy, who had somehow yet to land a punch on the considerably smaller Wheeler boy.

Peyton and Joey stared, the former girl sat between the latter's legs from the way they'd fallen. Joey's arms wound tightly around Peyton's shoulders in the hopes of preventing her from trying to make some kind of attempt to stop the boys' cartoonish wrestle

"Hey!" and, when the unsupervised teens were no longer unsupervised, they weren't so blinded by anger that the sound of a whistle along with their gym teacher, now red in the face with anger, "Principal's office! All of you!"

Quick to protest, Peyton was more worried for Joey, who had never been in detention once in her life, "But we didn't do anything!"

"Now!"

❀

⠀ ⠀ FIVE SEEMED TO BE THE MAXIMUM CAPACITY OF STUDENTS to wait outside the principal's office, each one filled by angry teenagers with solemn expressions and bright red marks that would soon surely bruise. Each of the boys had been given ice packs, the cool blue pad pressed against their respective injuries.

Billy had actually managed to put a shirt on for once, meaning all five were lined up in matching grey Hawkins High PE uniforms like juvenile delinquents awaiting their sentence.

Pacing down the corridor, the principal hadn't even bothered to try and squeeze them all into his office, "Never, in all ten years teaching at this school, have I witnessed such appalling behavior from students your age," leg bouncing with anxiety, Peyton chewed at her lip, unable to bring herself to look anywhere but the floor, "You are not freshmen! You are not sophomores!" he looked to Peyton, Jacob and Joey first, eyes narrowed, "You are juniors!" Steve and Billy were next to receive the glare of disappointment, "You are seniors! Can any one of you give me one good reason that I shouldn't call each of your parents?" not one of the teens could bring themselves to make eye contact upon receiving the threat they'd dreaded the most. A phone call home was the last thing any of them needed, be it afraid of causing more disappointment to the family or fear of getting a beating much worse than they'd already harmed each other. For a moment, a hint of sympathy passed the principal's furious gaze, only for a moment, hands firmly placed on his hips as he watched the expressions of each teenager before him, "I expect you all back here for detention the second that lunch bell rings," watching their slow nods, he continued, "And I will consider allowing this occasion to stay clear from your permanent records, is that understood?"

Lost for words, the teens found themselves once again trapped in uncomfortable silence, unable to move or breathe too loudly without fear of their principal's mind changing. Peyton had a feeling it was more to do with the who, not the what. Had Joey not been involved, even Jacob, they'd be in far more trouble. But Ms. Martin had a near-perfect record, one that their principal seemed reluctant to damage.

"I said is that understood?"

One repeated, the yell quickly snapped all teens from their anxiety-induced silence, murmuring the words "Yes sir," before they ended up in even more trouble

"Get back to class, all of you," jelly legs almost sending her toppling over, Peyton was grateful for the arm Joey draped across her shoulder, leading her away from the three frozen boys in an urgent hurry.

The rest of the morning was spent in uncomfortable anticipation for the ring of the lunch bell. It was a lesser sentence than they deserved, Peyton had to admit. It made her wonder if there were simply no faculty willing to take them after school, to live out their wannabe breakfast club fantasies. Although she much preferred the idea of sacrificing time she would have spent in the school building anyway rather than her own spare time that could be spent with her brother or Joey or... well, maybe not Nancy...

A small trolley of supplies was already waiting for them when, in their own time, the five found themselves together once again, not one uttering a single word to the other. Door to the main office swinging suddenly open, the principal hadn't even bothered to greet the teens before beginning to give out jobs

"You two," he began, partnering Joey and Jacob, "will wash every board in this hall," no choice but to accept, Joey shot her friend an apologetic glance before following the Wheeler boy toward the nearest classroom.

Hargrove was next, hands buried in his pocket without a hint of remorse for his actions, "Scraping the gum from the bleachers," Billy looked disgusted, masking his own gum between his teeth as he rather aggressively accepted the bucket, storming away with not a single word to say.

And when it was only she and Steve, Peyton began to silently pray that they too had individual jobs to do. But if there was ever a day to bet on the universe cursing her, Peyton was sure it would be today, "Restocking the janitor's closet," hand patting the rest of the supplies, Peyton and Steve stared uncomfortably, at a loss for words

"Oh, uh, sir?" uncomfortably, Peyton stepped forward, slight grimace as she attempted to quietly ask, "Um... can't we have... I mean, is there something else I could do? I'm sure Steve can... handle that alone,"

Practically beaming in amusement at the sheer audacity of a student making a request during detention, the principal let out a genuine laugh, followed by a long sigh and a rather stern, "I'm sure he could," but the amused smile turned to a fed up glare before Peyton had time to even blink, "Now get out of my sight,"

Great.

The janitor's closet with Steve Harrington.

What could possibly go wrong?

❀

⠀ ⠀ "WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT?" handful of supplies, Peyton's heels lifted from the ground to reach the top shelf, hand brushing against the familiar lightbulb swinging above them. Her pants would be engulfed in flames if she claimed that just being in the janitor's closet didn't fill her mind with the foulest of thoughts.

Although, Steve was a rather good person to be in here with to kill any kind of sexual tension there might be, right?

Eager to fill the awkward silence with something, Peyton cleared her throat, uttering the first shitty joke that came to mind, "The athlete and the criminal,"

Amused at her reference, Steve let out a short scoff, "Not the basket case?" a little shocked, Peyton began to panic at the numerous reasons there were for him to ask such a thing. She hadn't even meant to sound at all defensive when firing back

"Did you seriously just call me a basket case?" smile quickly fading, Peyton couldn't help but smirk at the sheer panic in his eyes

"Wh- n- no, I- no that's," panic growing, Steve shook his head, as though it would help the words flow easier, "I- I didn't mean..." simply shaking her head dismissively, Peyton turned away, all too focused on the task at hand for somebody with little passion for cleanliness.

Another few minutes of silence passed by, shadows of students still with their freedom intact passing by the closed closet door. Peyton didn't notice how long she'd been staring at the little crack of light beneath the door until Steve had accidentally bumped her arm, quick to apologize even if he hadn't harmed her in any way, "Shit, sorry!" when he still hadn't gotten a verbal reply, the Harrington boy froze, brows furrowed in thought as he watched Peyton stock the lower shelves this time, "Are you okay?"

"What do you care?" in all honestly, she hadn't meant to snap at him so harshly that time. Something in her couldn't just stand in the tension she'd created, "Are you?" Steve seemed shocked at first, as though he'd never expected her to care much either

"Sure," he shrugged, peering over his shoulder with a pack of rags in hand that were soon shoved hastily into a cardboard box.

Peyton didn't know what it was about the air they'd created, but something about it felt oddly... safe?

Closed off from the rest of the world, in darkness that wasn't too dark, without the intention of doing anything other than talking (and even that was optional). So when the overwhelming urge to not only converse but confide in Steve Harrington, Peyton's hatred for the soon-to-be dethroned king was no longer at the wheel.

Whirling around, Peyton opted to stop what she was doing completely, finding herself staring at the back of his somehow coordinately messy yet pristine hair on the back of his head, "Do you ever get the feeling... that you're not a good person?" frozen for a moment, Steve peered over his shoulder as though checking he wasn't hallucinating from whatever dodgy fumes had probably been spilled over the shelves of the disgustingly messy closet

"You know, your insults are starting to sound a little more like self digs, Evans," unable to help it, Peyton let out an involuntary giggle, hand meeting her mouth anxiously to stop it from looking anything other than forced. Upon realizing her question was, indeed, serious, Steve paused, towel that had way too much dust covering it to be so carelessly swung around hanging over his shoulder, "Honestly... before last year, I never really cared," he confessed, "I just... wanted people to think I was cool. I never thought about how that might affect anybody else," arms crossed to cover the gap of exposed skin between t-shirt and denim, Peyton nodded, staring into the ground as if trying to tear a hole through the ground that would swallow them both whole

"Yeah..."

Getting the sense that her anxiety was growing, Steve continued on, leaning against the creaking shelves behind him, "Kinda sucks, huh? The whole... starting to give a shit thing," - understatement of the year - "Makes you wish you hadn't been such an asshole,"

Peyton finally looked up from her deep thoughts, all while arguing with her inner monologue about sharing any information that would reveal some kind of weakness to her supposed enemy, "I think it was just... easier. Being an asshole," Steve snickered, although it was comforting knowing Peyton not was not only insulting him, but herself too, "You know, if you don't care about anything then... you can't get hurt cause you never gave a shit in the first place. And then it all becomes... pointless,"

Somehow able to understand her point completely, Steve shocked even himself as he confessed, "Well, things started getting a whole lot less pointless when uh..." a deep sigh escaped his lips, as though it pained him to admit the fact that... "you accidentally saved my life last year,"

Although less than accidental, it was very much true. Although, her few days in demogorgon fighting experience meant he'd soon be returning the favor with his trusty nail-bat

Small smile creasing the corners of her lips, Peyton had forgotten about the lack of space between them in the rather claustrophobic janitor's closet, "So... thanks..."

They weren't touching. But still, rather too close for comfort when both needed to somehow switch places to get to the right supplies

"You're welcome..." her intentional whisper left Steve clearly confused, staring down in concern as he tried to get a read on her thoughtful expression, "I, uh, I think you might have accidentally saved mine too," An anxious feeling began to flutter in her stomach, one that felt familiar yet filled her with an overwhelming sense of dread.

Tolerating Steve was one thing.

But liking him?

Liking him...

She'd promised long ago to never, no matter how desperate for affection she felt, become one of those girls swooning into the arms of Steve 'the hair' Harrington. She'd dated worse, much worse, but this was different. Years of hatred and taunting and teasing, all being questioned because of a few simple moments of kindness?

Fight or flight response kicking in, Peyton resisted her usual urge to fight in place of unceremoniously slamming her back into the shelves behind, "Shit!"

"Jesus, Evans!" just about reaching forward in time, Steve caught the box of folders about to fall on their heads, sliding it back onto the shelf and making her attempt at creating as much space between them as possible in the closet with limited places to run to completely void. Breath caught in her throat, the blonde just couldn't resist looking the man up and down, knowing that if he'd noticed the fact that Peyton 'my mortal damn enemy' Evans just checked him out, she'd never hear the end of it, "Can't drive home with a concussion," he joked, barely noticing the way her fingertips grasped the oak bookcase behind her, grip so hard her knuckles turned white.

Thankfully, Steve turned in time to not witness the wide-eyed, regretful face Peyton absent-mindedly pulled upon realizing just who she'd momentarily been attracted to. Laughing more at herself than his joke, Peyton ran a nervous hand through her tangled waves, mouth dry with anxiety

"Can't drive at all," confused, Steve turned, only to discover Peyton now had her back to him, clearly pretending there was something important on the shelf in front of her, when really she was picking at the wood sticker placed atop the plywood cabinet, "My dad took my keys when he realized I didn't actually sleep at Joey's last night," closet falling silent, Peyton glanced to one side, mentally cursing herself when she found that she was genuinely waiting for a reply

"If you want..." Steve trailed off, pausing as if deciding to reconsider even after the words had left his mouth, which, honestly, Peyton wouldn't blame him for, "If you want I- I can give you a ride," peering over her shoulder, Peyton failed to hide the slightly amused laugh at the drama it would cause for her to accept that offer

"I don't know, I think you're in enough trouble with Nance as it is," the saddened chuckle that followed was enough to at least let Peyton know Steve had yet to become upset with her regardless of her remarks

"Yeah, you're probably right," he nodded, turning back to the shelf he'd been cleaning, although from the number of scrubs and sprays delivered just to have something to do, it was probably more pristine than it had been for years.

Both waiting in anticipation for the other to continue, Peyton and Steve found themselves in silence once again. Much less awkward than the last, yet still a sense of yearning behind.

For friendship?

Someone to confide in, at least. That actually understood what it was like to have said and done terrible, selfish things only to wish you hadn't.

But neither of them could think of anything more to say that could possibly help their situation from being weird. So they continued in silence, waiting for the bell to save them from admitting any further deep thoughts they'd never considered letting see the light of day.

❀

⠀ ⠀ LEG BOUNCING WITH ANXIETY, PEYTON'S EYES were glued to the clock, watching the seconds go by with every agonizing tick of the red hand. Her efforts to seem unbothered were becoming impossible to maintain, with each passing second of silence a chance for her head to echo the hurtful words of a friend. Not that she'd ever admit that aloud. No, mommy dearest did well in raising her kids to suppress their emotions.

So well, in fact, that Peyton was fully considering walking home instead of waiting with Jonathan to drive Will and Parker home after their AV club meeting.

But she'd barely made it halfway through the parking lot before her name was called, "Peyton!"

'Nope!' was the first word that came to mind upon hearing Billy Hargrove calling her from across the parking lot. Followed by a string of words considered rather colorful language before settling for a simple, yet exasperated, "Oh, fuck me..." out loud.

"Peyton!" unable to resist the chance to put Billy in his place a second time, Peyton stopped, hand tightly gripping the loose backpack strap around her shoulder as the other met exposed skin above her waist.

"What do you want?"

For a moment, Billy seemed to have a genuine look of regret painted on his usually smug and confident face, glancing around as though fearful anyone could hear what he was about to say. Grasping Peyton by the arm, however much gentler than the night before, Billy dragged the reluctant Evans girl toward his car. He released his grip, though keeping a hand on her shoulder, leaning down as though what he was about to share was the biggest secret in the world,

"I'm sorry,"

Those two words sent a wave of genuine shock through Peyton's body, still yet to shove Billy away as she stood before him, completely frozen, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Defensive tone seeming more accidental than aggressive this time, Billy sighed, eyes closed as he continued to avoid eye contact, "Look, just, let me give you a ride home, okay? Then we can talk,"

"About what exactly?" her arms folded, Billy had managed to just about exhaust her patience with his bad boy, couldn't care less attitude. But she'd be lying if a part of her didn't want to just say fuck it and jump back into his stupid Camaro.

"Look, I'm an asshole, I get that," he admitted, though seemingly unapologetic about it, "But we were having fun, right?"

"Having fun?" repeated Peyton, a forced chuckle escaping her lips although her amusement was very much genuine, "What part of you belittling me in front of half the school was fun?"

"None of it," he admitted, hand sliding down Peyton's arm to take ahold of her wrist, "I think we had a lot of fun before that, though," Billy paused, looking her up and down with the same smug, I know I'm gonna get my way, son of a bitch smirk.

It wasn't as though he was wrong either. He'd screwed up before. Albeit, never as much as last night, but still enough to leave Peyton questioning why the hell she kept going back.

"Look, we both know how this is gonna end," stated Billy, rather matter-of-factly for a guy that had seemingly been dumped less than 24 hours ago, "So why don't we just skip to the part where we kiss and make up, and I'll take you out for dinner Saturday night?"

Is that really how easily she could be won over?

Glare turning to a smirk, Peyton couldn't stop herself from at least delivering a harsh shove to his shoulder as she uttered the words, "I hate you,"

Feigning pain, Billy grasped his arm dramatically, wanting gaze fixated on the confident blonde as she sauntered around his car to the passenger side,

"I know," quipped Billy, quick to duck into the driver's seat with the confidence that Peyton would soon follow. Hand resting atop the dusty roof of the Camaro, Peyton did one last scan of the parking lot, heart dropping at the sorry sight she landed upon.

Steve Harrington.

Waiting by his car with a less than hopeful look in his eye. She hadn't even thought about their talk in the closet since it happened and yet there he was, leaning against his car just as he'd promised.

It shocked her how, even now, she considered running from Billy into the arms of her so-called enemy. But her head always won over her heart. And she knew, deep down, that even if Billy was trouble, he was temporary.

But Steve?

Steve could be the one to break her heart. And she didn't have it in her to go through that. No amount of serotonin in the world could be worth the pain and loss when Steve inevitably got bored of her and moved on to his true love.

Because that's all Peyton could see herself as. The pit stop before you get to the one. The mistake you make, and tell your kids about. The woman that could have been your mother but thank god she's not!

She hated herself for it.

Going back to Billy so easily without a second thought. Because a ride home was never just a ride home. It was two stupid teenagers parking by lovers lake and doing everything they could to forget, even for a moment, how shitty life in Hawkins could truly be.

so uhhh hi

it's been a minute

when i started adventures in babysitting i wasn't working yet and it's been kinda hard for me to adjust and have a good work/spare time balance. i just had such bad writers block and felt super tired and struggled so much cause i'd planned another mostly drama no supernatural element chapter

again apologizing for spelling errors it's 1am my time, i used grammarly but it doesn't always catch everything cause like i don't have the money for premium 😭😭 lmk if u catch any errors tho!

ALSO NOBODY SAY ANYTHING ABOUT BREAKFAST CLUB REFERENCES IN A BOOK SET IN 1984 WHEN THE MOVIE RELEASED IN 1985 I SIMPLY DO NOT CARE :)

and i love all the character building and stuff it's just i picked stranger things bc i wanted to write all the fight scenes and near death spooky stuff (which is what i've been doing, hence no updates cause i just keep writing for future chapters/seasons lol)

anyway i'm gonna stop promising chapters cause i've been putting too much pressure on myself but just know that i'm not gonna abandon this book even if the updates are slow

i hope this chapter was worth the wait! excited for the next one tbh cause FINALLY some upside-down elements are coming peyton's way

ty for reading and voting
and commenting it really does make my day!

<3