𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 6.2k

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄'𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 made all kinds of squeaky, annoying sounds as Owen twisted and flopped around, trying to get comfortable. But that task was proving to be much more difficult than one would think.

What was the point of having beds in the nurse's office if there was no humanly possible way of falling asleep on them, anyway?

But even worse than the horrendous beds, the fluorescent lights overhead certainly weren't helping the ache behind Owen's eyelids. This place was a total hellscape for someone with a killer headache.

"So, do you have migraines like this often?"

Owen's eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the bright lighting just in time to see the school nurse meandering over to her with some Advil and a small cup of water. Ah, right. That was why she was enduring this nurse's office from Hell. Well, that and excusing herself from the final minutes of her statistics class. Finally giving up on getting comfortable, Owen sat up from her place on the tiny bed, throwing her legs over the side.

Typically, she would have appreciated the genuine concern in the older woman's syrupy sweet voice. But considering the fact that she was attempting to rid herself of a hangover and not a migraine, Owen felt a little guilty for having lied about the origin of her headache.

"Um, not so much anymore. I used to have them a lot last year, but they just kind of... went away," Owen replied, testing out her theory that revealing an unrelated truth would resolve the guilt behind her current lie. She allowed the nurse to safely deposit the two orangey pills into her palm, carefully taking the cup of water into her free hand.

"Do you think there's any reason you could be having them again?" The soft, worried tone was still wrapped around every syllable that left the nurse's mouth.

For just a moment, it was as if every memory from last November played on a film reel at the front of Owen's mind. Fighting monsters, an interdimensional gate, Barb's death, attacks from Hawkins Lab, finding a girl with superpowers, Will Byers dying and then coming back to life. It was no wonder she was having migraines all the time. But that was all over with – Hopper had made sure of it. Now, too much drinking at a Halloween party was the sole cause of Owen's headaches and she planned to keep it that way.

"No clue," Owen answered matter-of-factly, knocking back the Advil and chasing them with water. Thankfully, she was saved from further questions by the sound of the school bell ringing, dismissing masses of teenagers into the hallways of Hawkins High. The auburn-haired girl bent to grab her backpack from the floor beside the bed, throwing it over her shoulder once she stood. Owen crumpled the empty paper cup in her hand and tossed it in the trash can as she walked out of the office.

"Thanks for the Advil!" she made sure to call out to the nurse before joining the rest of her peers as they switched between classes. Her Converse-clad feet dragged down the hallway, being swiftly passed on either side by fellow students with far more energy. Dread consumed her as every step brought her closer to her English classroom; Owen hadn't read a single page of that day's assigned reading, which meant that she would be totally screwed if their teacher decided to call on her at some point.

But just as Owen had resigned to her fate of looking like a total idiot in front of her class, her luck seemed to take a turn. Some woman she had never seen before stood at the front of her English classroom, with a note written in chalk on the board behind her.

Silent reading all class period. Any homework due can be turned in next class.

A substitute! A literal gift from above, in Owen's eyes.

Feeling like she could breathe again, Owen hurried to her seat with a newfound invigoration, elated at the prospect of not having to talk to a single soul this class period. As her classmates filed into the room, Owen whipped out the copy of Wuthering Heights that they had been loaned at the beginning of the year, prepared to catch up with the assigned reading.

As usual, Steve Harrington wandered into their shared class just as the tardy bell rang, taking his typical seat beside Owen. But instead of pulling out a book as soon as possible like she had, he merely slouched back in his chair, leaving the desk in front of him completely empty.

"Everyone, make sure you read the board. This isn't study hall, okay? You don't get to just sit here for the next hour. Everybody needs to have a book out," the substitute insisted, making intentional eye contact with each student who wasn't following her one rule. And that included Steve.

"What if we don't have a book?" someone asked, seeming to pose an actual question instead of just trying to identify the best loophole out of reading. Still, this brought an exasperated sigh from the substitute's lips.

"I can write you a note if you need to go to the library and get one. But if you try and spend all class in there, I'll make sure your teacher hears about it," she warned, slowly taking a seat at the desk in front of the classroom. A couple students took her up on the offer, gathering their things and approaching the desk in hopes of escaping to the school's library. But Owen was happy to remain at her desk and lose herself in the world of Emily Brontë.

Of course, this plan lasted all of ten seconds before she was getting poked repeatedly on the shoulder by someone trying to gain her attention. The "someone" in question was obviously Steve, who clearly had no intention of actually silently reading all class period. And it seemed like he was going to drag Owen down into this lazy pit with him. But she wasn't going down without a fight.

Once she made sure that the substitute was distracted with writing hall passes, Owen turned to face Steve with a look that could kill. The daggers shooting from her eyes had hardly any effect on the boy beside her, who just seemed content to have her finally looking his way.

"What do you want?" she hissed, keeping her voice down to avoid catching the teacher's attention.

"Meet me in the library," he responded, voice just as quiet as hers.

"No, I already have a book," Owen argued, waving her book in front of him in case he had missed it. This action had consequences, however, as Steve was quick to snatch it from her grip and tuck the book into his own backpack.

"Not anymore," Steve corrected, face lighting up in a twisted little smirk as he zipped the bag shut. Owen's jaw had dropped into a completely scandalized expression, unsure of how to feel after being outsmarted by Steve Harrington, of all people. But once again, this look had no effect on the boy beside her, as he stood and made his way towards the front of the classroom.

"Meet me in the library," he mouthed at her, repeating his sentiment from earlier. Owen wasn't left with many options now, seeing as she had been robbed of the one book in her possession that wasn't a textbook. Gritting her jaw and rolling her dark eyes, she gathered her own items and stomped up to the front to acquire her own hall pass.

This better be good, Owen thought to herself.

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Owen peered down every book-filled aisle of the school library, scanning the room for her book thief. She was fully prepared to give him an earful once she found him, unsure of why he needed to talk to her right then instead of after school. But after scouring every book-encased passageway of the school's library with no success, Owen gave up and began scouting out the available inventory. If Steve needed to talk to her that badly, he would have to find her.

Owen got a little too comfortable reading the various book titles that lined the shelves, her head cocked in an unsightly way to get a better look at them. Her distractedness caused her to let out an unattractive squawk the moment she got dragged to the back of all the bookshelves by the bend of her arm. She was unable to hear the librarians shushing her through the whistling of wind past her ears on the way to a more hidden location. And before she knew it, she was trapped between Steve Harrington and the end of a bookshelf, her eyes widened at the guerrilla warfare-level maneuver.

"You scared the shit out of me," Owen snapped, having to settle for a whisper-yell directed at the boy in front of her. With Steve's face just inches from her own, Owen instantly realized that she had a front row seat to see the mischievous glint come and go from his eyes as she reprimanded him. But after realizing just how close they were, Steve swiftly stepped out of her bubble, leaning his back against the row of bookshelves lining the rear wall. It took only a moment's inspection for Owen to recognize the look on Steve's face; it was the same one she saw when she arrived at Tina's party the night before. A mixture of dejected, aimless, and maybe even a little embarrassed.

"What's wrong?" she inquired, abandoning her various gripes once she noticed that something was off. It had to be pretty bad for him to seek her out, even as a metaphorical shoulder to cry on.

"I think... Nancy and I just broke up," he confessed, his eyes darting about the room to avoid meeting Owen's gaze. But the words didn't even sound right when they made it to her mind. The concept of Nancy and Steve as separate entities made her eyebrows furrow and head tilt perplexedly. Their identities had practically been entwined from the moment she met them. For them to be anything but entwined felt out of the ordinary.

"Wait, what?" She was sure she hadn't heard him right. Owen had heard about their fight at the party last night, but she didn't think it was a relationship-shattering fight.

"We broke up... or, at least, I think we did? I don't really know. She said some pretty messed up stuff at Tina's, but she was drunk and... I just don't know what we're doing anymore," Steve continued in a babbling manner, hands coming up to rub tiredly over his face. And when he resurfaced, Owen couldn't help but notice how troubled he looked – more than she had ever seen him. The torn-up look made Owen wish that she had all the right things to say in that moment, something that would make him feel better. But unfortunately, Steve had come to one of the least romantically experienced people at Hawkins High, which meant he was going to get second-rate relationship advice – at best.

"Look... I don't know what Nancy said at that party, but I'm sure she didn't mean it," Owen said, calmly. She couldn't help but notice that Steve didn't seem convinced. "I feel like everything will work itself out if you guys can just extend an olive branch and... talk it out, y'know?" she suggested, weaving together every piece of "good" relationship advice she had ever heard. She stretched an arm across the minimal space between them, resting a heavy hand upon his shoulder in an attempt to be comforting.

"You guys love each other and you'll get through this rough patch, okay?" she consoled him, the corners of her lips curling up in a sympathetic smile. Finally meeting her eyes, Steve attempted to mimic the look on her face, but ended up plastering an unsure, lopsided grin on instead.

Feeling as though she had offered him the best advice she could muster, Owen gave Steve a final, resolved pat on the shoulder and began to make her way back to the classroom. But she didn't get far before the memory of why she was even in the library in the first place flashed at the front of her mind. Halfway down the aisle, Owen spun on her heel to return to where she had left Steve standing. Upon her return, his eyebrows raised to accompany a hopeful glint in his eye, wondering if she had come back with some better advice.

"My book, please," Owen requested. She offered him an overly polite, toothy smile as she held out an open and expectant palm.

"Oh, right," he sighed, shoulders sadly sagging again when he realized that all those recycled phrases from earlier really were the best she had to offer him. But still, Steve had no use for her copy of Wuthering Heights and he fished it out of the depths of his backpack to hand back over.

"Seriously, Steve... it'll work out how it's supposed to work out. Try not to worry too much," Owen said quietly, hands absentmindedly flipping through the book in her hands. And then she twirled away from him and began her journey back to class, leaving him alone with his thoughts in the very back of the library.

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When Owen and Law got home from school that afternoon, the house was already consumed with all kinds of different smells wafting from the kitchen. The main smells that she could identify right away were cinnamon, coffee, and... chili? A truly strange combination of scents that had Owen and Law glancing at each other warily. Driven by curiosity alone, the redheaded girl dropped her backpack on the couch and wandered into the kitchen, hoping to make sense of whatever she was smelling.

But when Owen made it into the kitchen, she was left with even more questions than she started with. Gordon's arm was stuck nearly halfway into one of the biggest metal pots Owen had ever seen, using a comically large wooden spoon to stir the mixture inside. That pot probably contained the chili that she had smelled upon entry.

Her eyes drifted over to Leo, who was wearing a frilly, pink apron just to slice apples on the other side of their galley kitchen. But of course, he looked even more handsome without the Ziggy Stardust makeup from the night before. Various spices, like nutmeg and cinnamon, sat open near his little station, along with one of those pie crusts you could buy from the store. An apple pie – the source of the cinnamon smell.

The final piece of the scent puzzle was pieced together when Owen's eyes landed on her dad sifting through the family's mug collection. The coffee pot on the counter was nearly full and steaming deliciously, filling the house with the bold smell of their dad's typical strong brew. Owen checked and then double-checked the clock hanging above the kitchen sink, just to make sure that she wasn't seeing things. But sure enough, their dad had even come home early from work for this little cooking fest.

"Oh, thank god. You guys got here before Diana," their dad said with a sigh of relief once he saw Owen and Law. Oh right, his girlfriend's birthday party. Owen had totally forgotten about the event, but she just hoped that it didn't show on her face. The mug he had been searching for (it was an old Halloween one, with a cartoon black cat in a graveyard on it) was sat next to the coffee pot. "Now, go put on something other than your school clothes. Something nice," their dad directed, giving Owen and Law a pointed look that made them swiftly kick into gear.

Something nice? How nice are we talking?

Owen stood in front of her closet, at a loss for what to wear. She hadn't paid much attention to Gordon's outfit, and Leo's clothes were covered by the unnecessary, but cute, pink apron. She really was just left to her own devices, with a closet full of unimpressive clothing options. Owen let a tense stream of air blow between her lips as she flipped through the unorganized mess in her closet.

She couldn't fathom how they were responsible for hosting a birthday party for their dad's girlfriend of less than a year. Wouldn't it be better for the two of them to just go out and get something? Weren't candle-lit dinners still a thing? Including four teenagers seemed like it would drain every ounce of romance out of the evening... but what would Owen know about that?

Giving up the fight against her closet, Owen decided on a turtleneck with earth-toned stripes and her best pair of jeans, just hoping that it was "nice" enough for whatever her father was planning. She had barely finished changing clothes when she distantly heard the unfamiliar, excited tone in her father's voice that he had begun to take on in Diana's presence. It barely even sounded like him and it made Owen feel sick.

Why did it take him meeting some woman for him to actually get his shit together again? Or at least pretend to have his shit together? Owen didn't exactly have enough time to unpack all of the emotions that arose about that, so she sent herself a final glance in the mirror before stepping out of her room.

As she padded back down the hallway, Owen could hear the sound of some Dolly Parton song playing softly in the living room. It must've been one of Diana's favorites because Owen had certainly never seen her father turn on music that wasn't Johnny Cash or somebody that reminded him of Johnny Cash. So, hearing Doug Webb literally giggling with his girlfriend in the next room over while Dolly Parton played in the background, had Owen making a beeline for Leo and his apple-slicing station.

She surprised herself with the amount of confidence she had in approaching him, but she hadn't given herself many other options. She and Gordon still hadn't talked about what she saw at the party and she wasn't about to subject herself to torturous levels of PDA between her dad and Diana. So, Leo it was.

"Please tell me you need help," Owen begged quietly, standing close enough so that he could hear her. Leo cast a smirk over his shoulder, unable to stop the playful glint in his eye when he looked at her. But he happily moved the bowl of apples closer to Owen, granting her better access. She peered into the bowl, plucking the prettiest of the bright red apples from the bunch.

"How you feeling after last night," Leo inquired, gaze focused down towards the apple on the counter in front of him. An instinctive scoff left Owen's lips as she fished a peeler from one of the kitchen's many drawers.

"Feeling better now, but school was rough this morning," she confessed, which brought a chuckle out of Leo. Owen began shucking away at the apple's peel, glad to have something to anchor herself to to avoid becoming overwhelmed by the attractiveness of the man beside her.

"Hey, you're better than me. At least you went to school," Leo mused, his hands sweeping a bunch of apple slices into a different bowl. "My parents would kill me if they knew how many days of high school I missed for being hungover," he continued with a lighthearted laugh.

His comment had Owen's eyes drifting towards her father in the living room, the older man far too distracted to notice her looking at him. She was fairly certain that last year, her father wouldn't have even noticed if she stayed home from school due to a hangover. But he had actually started acting like a dad as of late – someone who would actually give a shit if any of his kids didn't go to school. Especially for something as dumb as a hangover.

"Uh... same. I'm pretty sure my dad would flip his lid if I missed school for something that wasn't worthy of a hospital visit," Owen muttered, shaking herself out of her thoughts. Her eyes refocused on the apple in her hands, peeling the last few shards of red skin before setting the fruit in front of Leo's slicing station.

"Sounds like a pretty good dad," Leo said wistfully, as though he were wrapped up in his own thoughts. While reaching over to grab another apple, Owen's brows dipped in consideration, unsure of when she last heard someone refer to her dad as a good parent. She sucked in a breath to respond, but before any words could escape, her attention was being directed elsewhere.

"Oh my god, cute sweater, Owen!" Diana excitedly interjected, having made her way into the kitchen after extensively greeting the kids' dad. Owen flashed a toothy smile over her shoulder at the blonde – probably one of the most genuine smiles she had given since their worlds oddly collided. And although Owen had her complaints about Diana's relationship with her father, she had to admit that it felt nice to have someone actually notice and compliment the outfit choice she had excessively mulled over.

"Thanks, I like your... skirt," she replied, trying to sound as genuine as possible. The long, floral, Sunday School teacher skirt wasn't exactly Owen's style, but Diana didn't need to know that. The corners of Diana's lips curled upwards in a sweet smile, her light eyes somehow managing to soften even more. But her attention was swiftly diverted to what Owen and Leo were actually doing in the kitchen, which made her eyebrows lift in shock.

"Are you guys making apple pie?" she blurted, features lighting up right before their very eyes.

"Remembered you sayin' it was your favorite... which is kind of perfect since it's apple season," their dad declared, grinning proudly at her. Owen's eyes snapped away when she saw her dad leaning in to press a kiss to Diana's temple. God, Diana was so damn likable when their dad just wasn't around. But Owen just kept reminding herself that it was one meal – some shared chili and apple pie – and then she would be free.

That's it. Just chili and apple pie.

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Sudsy water covered everything up to Owen's wrists, her hands submerged in the sink as she scrubbed apple pie filling off of a shiny white plate. Her mind was still bouncing around between the various topics the group had talked about during dinner, allowing her to entertain herself during the mindless chore. Owen was far too immersed in her thoughts and the soapy water to notice that Leo had approached with a off-white towel in hand.

"Please tell me you need help," he murmured with feigned urgency, clearly teasing her for the way she had approached him earlier in the evening. Before she could even respond, Leo was plucking one of the dishes from the drying rack to begin wiping water off of the glossy ceramic.

"Very funny," Owen muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes and trying to keep a grin off of her face. But she could still hear Leo chuckling at her nonetheless, likely even more entertained by her annoyance over the comment.

As Leo began to open and close each cabinet in search of the freshly dry dish's home, Owen watched with an amused twinkle in her eye. The corners of her lips twitched, but she just redirected her attention back down to the dishwater, giving him time to find the dishes' home on his own. Just moments later, the familiar clank of the plates meeting each other rang in her ears, informing her that Leo had succeeded in his task.

"Hey, what are you doing after this," Leo said abruptly, suddenly materializing right beside Owen at the sink. She couldn't help but blink owlishly at him for a moment, unsure of what exactly he was asking about.

"Um... nothing that I know of," Owen replied, reaching across to place another clean dish in the drying rack. But her nerves had the plate clattering amongst the rest in an awkward, loud way that tore through the electrified air between them. "Why?" she added on, very curious about where this could be going.

"Gordon had mentioned something about Lover's Lake and I just... wanted to see if you would check it out with me," Leo proposed, suddenly averting his own eyes upon asking. "Just thought a heart-shaped lake sounded pretty cool," he shrugged as he circled his towel around another plate.

Was she hearing him right? Did he just ask her to go with him to check out Lover's Lake? Just the two of them? 

Owen's hands had come to a standstill in the sink, her eyes trained intensely on Leo as she searched for any signs of this being a sick joke. Maybe Law had put him up to it just to get a reaction out of her, or maybe this was Gordon's way of getting back at her for barging in on him and Eddie. Her mind was racing with all sorts of reasons why someone like Leo would never pay attention to someone like her. But of course, all of these thoughts had rendered her mute and stagnant – hardly the appropriate response to someone asking you a question.

"It's totally okay if you don't wanna go. I just thought I'd ask," Leo faltered, growing more and more insecure with each moment of silence from the girl beside him.

"I would love to! I've actually never been, so, uh... no better time than the present," Owen blurted, her mouth reacting faster than her mind. But she wasn't about to let this opportunity slip from her hands that easily. This answer seemed to be the right one, as a genuine, dazzling smile made itself present on Leo's face.

"Okay, it's a date," Leo beamed, flooding Owen's brain with all kinds of fairytale thoughts. "We can go whenever you feel like you can, uh, get away," he nodded, eyes glancing towards the living room where everyone else had convened. Owen's gaze followed his before she gave a nod of her own.

"Okay," Owen breathed, head bobbing in a series of quick, overly excited nods. She had to force her eyes back down at the soapy water just to conceal the obvious way in which she was beaming. But she was totally unable to dim the elated grin on her lips after her evening had taken such a surprising, delightful turn.

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Shadow-encased trees zipped past Leo's car as the two of them drove in the direction of Lover's Lake. Some song Owen had never heard before filled the car, saving her from humiliating herself in an attempt at a conversation with Leo. She knew she was going to have to talk to him at some point in the evening, but at that moment, she was able to sit silently, safe from embarrassment.

It wasn't long until Leo pulled his car off onto the side of the road and put it into park. He flashed Owen a smirk before turning the car off and hopping out. Owen followed his movements, trying not to flinch when the biting air met her cheeks. They had left the house in such a hurry that she had totally forgotten to grab a jacket, leaving her covered solely by her ribbed turtleneck. She must've done a shitty job at keeping her expression neutral, as Leo instantly pulled one of the back doors of his car open and whipped out a fur-lined, denim jacket.

"Here, your brother would kill me if I let you freeze to death out here," Leo chuckled, the jacket swinging from his extended hand. His words had Owen's mind inadvertently flashing back to Steve's words when he offered her his jacket at the Halloween party. 

God, she really needed to start carrying a jacket with her.

"Thanks," Owen chuckled breathlessly, sheepishly. Her hands slide through the arms of the jacket, immediately warming up – thank goodness. But even if the jacket didn't do the trick, Owen knew that she wouldn't stay cold for long once she and Leo began to trek through the woods in search of Lover's Lake.

"Just to be clear, you aren't an axe murderer or anything like that, right?" Leo wondered aloud as he led her beneath branches and over decaying logs. An unbecoming snort escaped her before she could stop it, finding the boy's comment absolutely absurd.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Owen retorted, expertly dodging a low-hanging clump of moss. "I mean, it was your idea to take a trip out into the middle of the woods late at night. Seems a little axe-murderer-ish to me," she reminded him. Owen could almost see the amused grin that Leo sent over his shoulder at her observation.

"Maybe so. But you still came," he pointed out, bringing a red tinge to Owen's cheeks. She couldn't dispute that, but her mind still ran wild with the implications of his words. Had he picked up on her crush? Was she really being that obvious all along? That certainly wasn't her intention.

"I think I can hear it!" Leo exclaimed, sounding excited like a little kid. Sure enough, once Owen momentarily escaped her mental spiral, she too could hear the lapping of the lake water against the shore. But the sound was masked with leaves crunching beneath their hurried footsteps, carrying them closer to the water with every stride.

Even through the shadows, Owen could see where Leo's form had come to a halt just ahead of her. Her own steps slowed as she approached him, seeing where the moonlit water met the unimpressive bank of sand. Her Converse sunk into the wet Earth beside Leo, pressing footprints next to his. Owen's eyes watched Leo's profile as he took in the scene in front of him, lit only by the silvery moon overhead.

"Didn't really occur to me that you couldn't see the heart shape from our perspective," Leo admitted, his voice a tick above a whisper. Owen's giggle joined the other sounds of the forest at night, rippling across the icy water in front of them. Owls hooted overhead and dogs yipped and howled in the distance, filling the silence that fell between the two teenagers.

"Do you smoke?" Leo asked, reaching into the depths of his pocket.

"Um... no. It just never seemed all that appealing to me," Owen shrugged, nose scrunching at the thought of smoke filling her lungs. She should've known that Leo would smoke his fair share of cigarettes. Even if he hadn't smoked before college, having someone like Gordon as his roommate would change that.

The sound of Leo flicking his lighter had Owen peeking at him from the corner of her eye. She did a double-take when she realized that he wasn't holding a typical cigarette. In fact, it wasn't a cigarette at all upon further inspection. It was shorter and wrapped in translucent paper, something that she had never seen Gordon smoke before.

"It's a joint. Marijuana," Leo chuckled, seeing the way Owen was eyeing the thing between his fingers. "You sure you don't wanna try?" The fiery end of the joint was pushed closer to her face, causing Owen to recoil slightly.

"Yep, I'm sure. I'll be sure to let you know if I change my mind," she assured him, hoping that the sarcastic lilt in her words went undetected. The less-than-delectable scent that wafted from the flame had Owen's head swiveling in every other direction, searching for air that wasn't tainted with the new smell.

The last thing that Owen expected in that moment was the disturbingly familiar bolt of electricity that rumbled up the back of her spine, settling as a dull throb at the base of her head. Goosebumps followed in its wake, washing across the back of her neck. Pure panic coursed through Owen's body as she instantly placed the feeling. The ache was so specific to everything she had felt last year, fighting that goddamn monster.

Owen spun towards the dark woods behind them, eyes darting all around the trees surrounding them. She was struggling to understand why the hell she would be having this feeling again. The monster was gone – dead.

It was dead, right?

"What's wrong?" Leo asked, turning to look at Owen with his brows knitted together. She swiftly hushed him, trying to listen out for any nearby leaves crunching that would give an intruder away. "Hey, hey... your nose is-" he started again, ignoring her request for silence.

"What the fuck did I just say? Be quiet," Owen hissed, speaking just above a whisper. If something dangerous was nearby, they really didn't need it to be clued in to their location.

As if it didn't already know.

Owen instinctively brought her sleeve up to wipe at the blood dripping from her nose.

Well, not her sleeve. Leo's sleeve.

Whoops.

Whatever the case, they needed to get out of here as soon as possible. She wasn't about to stick around and see what brought on that weird, internal signal of hers.

"C'mon. We need to get out of here," Owen stated, her dark eyes still blinking all around the woods in an attempt to stay vigilant. But a scoff from Leo's lips had her attention snapping towards him in disbelief.

"I just lit this. And I can't exactly smoke at your dad's house this weekend. So, we can wait till I finish up," Leo drawled, bringing the joint to his lips and sucking in the smoke. A branch breaking in the distance tore her furious gaze from him, her chest rising and falling nervously. The darkness surrounding them began to make Owen feel claustrophobic, like a caged animal. She was suddenly aware of everything that she couldn't see from this vantage point and it was terrifying.

"Leo, I want to go home. Now," she demanded, fists curling at her sides.

"Well, it's too bad that you didn't drive, then," Leo quipped, an eyebrow cocking smugly. If it were any other time, Owen would have taken the time to deck him right in his pretty face. But she didn't have time. And the stabbing pain at the base of her skull hadn't let up, so she wasn't going to waste what time she had left fighting with someone who didn't want her help.

"Fine. I'll call someone to come pick me up," Owen spat, spinning on her heel and marching into the woods. As she hurriedly stalked between the trees, all she could focus on was getting back home alive. She didn't even know where the nearest payphone was, but she would rather spend time looking for one than getting hunted with a guy who gave more of a shit about his joint than her.

"Aw, Owen, stop! C'mon!" Leo called out, following her through the woods as best he could. Owen's eyes remained fixed in front of her, her hand coming up to wipe at her bloody nose as she intentionally ignored him.

When she finally broke through the edge of the woods, she was a bit further down the road than where Leo had parked. She could see the light of a boat fueling station just down from where she exited, an easy walking distance. Pushed forward by the thought of making it home, Owen's feet picked up speed as she made her way to the station.

What a fucking first date, huh?

The burn of tears in her eyes caused Owen's teeth to bite down hard on the inside of her cheek. This wasn't how she imagined any date of hers going, sure, but she refused to cry over him. He was just some guy. He was going to leave after this weekend and she would never have to think about him again.

Owen's freezing cold fingers shook once she reached the payphone. Her hands dug into the pockets of Leo's jacket in search of money, finding a couple quarters at the bottom of his left pocket. She didn't think twice about shoving them into the machine, but her fingers hovered hesitantly over the keypad. Her mind began to reel, jumping between phone numbers she knew and trying to place which call would be the most successful. After all, she only had enough money for one call – she needed to make it count.

She couldn't call home. Her dad might answer and literally kill Leo for everything he had done to her that evening. She couldn't call Nancy because her parents would merely pass on the same information to her dad. With gritted teeth, Owen dialed the only other phone number she could think of, listening anxiously with every ring that played in her ear. Amidst her prayers for an answer, the ringing stopped and caused her heart to sink into the chasm of her stomach.

"Hello?" A familiar, but confused, voice filtered through the receiver, forcing Owen to expel a relieved breath.

"Hey, Steve. It's Owen."