𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 3.7k

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 down Owen's forearm, a drop of it splattering on the porch beneath her feet. She had given up on trying to keep clean, rather resigning to her fate of being elbow-deep in the sink after finishing her ice cream cone. Through an open window, she could hear the real-time update on the Detroit Tigers' latest baseball game, the announcers' excited voices crackling through the radio in the kitchen. But she did have to really focus in order to hear it over Gordon animatedly talking to Eddie on the wall-mounted telephone.

Summer had arrived in Hawkins, but the Webb family had barely even been there to experience it yet. Shortly after school let out, Diana and the Webbs packed into the car and headed north. After a very long two years since they had arrived in Hawkins, a getaway was exactly what the kids needed. Their Grammy's slow-moving, small town on the edge of the Metro Detroit area just so happened to be the perfect place for them to recoup.

"Owen, what do you say we go get our hair done together? I can get us in to see my stylist before your birthday," Grammy offered, her eyes peeking over her glass of lemonade. With lines of strawberry ice cream striping her arm, Owen's eyebrows furrowed perplexedly at her grandma. She had never offered for them to get their hair done together before. Why now?

"That's okay, Grammy. I don't really need to get my hair done or anything," Owen said with a smile and shake of her head. But Grammy didn't look deterred. Her wrinkle-framed eyes trailed across Owen's hairline in a way that made her self-consciously tuck some of the loose strands behind her ears.

"Oh, honey... but you do. You really do," the old woman stated plainly after a moment's consideration. "I wasn't going to say anything, but your roots are horribly grown out. Just one call and my hair girl can work her magic on you. You'll thank me when you look back at the photographs later."

This was how Owen ended up in the cracked, old, faded pink stylists chair at her Grammy's salon. Thankfully, Diana had tagged along, eager to see the transformation. Somehow, the entire group of women that populated the salon managed to talk Owen into going blonde before her birthday. This included other customers with their hair in curlers and foil, as well as the other stylists with cigarettes hanging from their bright red lips. But mostly, it had been the absolute thrill in Diana's voice when she realized they were both going to be blonde that convinced Owen.

"This is going to be the perfect makeover for your big day!" Grammy had crowed as the stylist layered bleach onto the ends of her hair.

But it was hard for Owen to look forward to her nineteenth birthday when she knew that her actual birthday was three months away, just like her file from Hawkins Lab had indicated. Still, it wasn't possible to tell any of her family without exposing everything she had gone through and learned over the past couple years. Owen knew that it was just easier to celebrate on the wrong day than try to explain the existence of monsters and a parallel realm to her grandma.

So, instead of fighting it, Owen just tried to relax into the stylist's chair and ignore Grammy and Diana's loud whispering about who was going to pick up the ingredients for chocolate cake from the grocery store.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

When the three of them returned from the salon, Owen got kicked out almost immediately so that the house could be turned into a giant gift-wrapping station. Gordon and Law made all kinds of blonde-related jokes as she prepared to disappear for an hour or two.

Barbie was the first reference as she shoved bug spray into her backpack. Then, it was Dolly Parton as Owen pulled her freshly-dyed hair into a ponytail. Sandy from Grease was the last blonde the boys were able to jokingly compare her to as she filled up a thermos with cold lemonade.

The boys were doing a horrible rendition of You're The One That I Want when Owen walked out through the back door, descending the back porch and heading towards the woods. Running off into the shade of the trees had become her way to escape. She had learned exactly where to step to avoid walking through poison ivy and which trees were stable enough to carry her across the creek. Each step just carried her further and further away from the tiny old house that had been filled to brim that summer.

However, Owen's favorite place was actually where the woods ended and broke into a wide, open field. The tall grass that brushed across her bare legs hadn't seen the blade of a lawnmower in years, left to grow freely and wildly. She ran down the slope of a hill and into the center of the field, her backpack jangling as she went.

This area was Owen's favorite for a very specific reason. No matter how far she looked in any direction, she couldn't spot a single house, any roads, or any sign of life, really. As a result, this had become her spot to practice her abilities in the safest, most private way possible.

During the time that they had spent at their Grammy's house, Owen had been able to test out the limitations of her powers. She learned that even manipulating something as simple as dirt took a surprising amount of focus. But before long, Owen was able to send rocks swirling overhead as she lay amongst the tall grass, an arm tucked leisurely beneath her head. Once, she had even been able to channel her energy deep into the soil, sprouting a lone sapling in the middle of the field.

Even with all of the progress she had made, Owen was still unable to replicate the earthquake she had produced that night at the Byers' house. She had tried on numerous occasions, but had only given herself a fruitless nosebleed each time. With their vacation at Grammy's nearing its end, Owen was determined to reach this milestone at least once before they left.

The breeze caused her low ponytail to tickle her shoulders as she situated herself on the ground, legs criss-crossed in front of her. She took a deep, calming breath before her eyes fell shut in an attempt to focus.

Then, it started out, and ended, like it always did. Owen's fingertips began to tingle, causing them to twitch as they sat on top of her knees. She would get this itchy, prickling feeling in her palms and nothing else would come, no matter how long she sat there.

But this time, Owen refused to give in to her impatience. She just continued to sit there, stubbornly squeezing her eyes shut. She lost track of how long she sat in the middle of the field, every ounce of her attention devoted to the electricity crackling in her palms. At some point, the tingle became almost unnoticeable, fading from her consciousness as if her hands had always felt that way.

Then, slowly, subtly, the electric feeling began to creep up her arms, a new experience. At first, she worried that she was just imagining the sensation. However, it didn't take long for the quivering to move throughout the rest of her body, eventually feeling as though her spine was exposed to a live wire, rattling even as she sat stagnantly. On instinct, Owen's hands clenched into tight fists, her fingernails digging into the skin of her clammy palm.

That's when she felt it, as elusive as the spreading tingle throughout her limbs. The ground beneath her began to rumble, but she could hardly feel it. But she struggled to recognize where she stopped and the earth began, like she was moving perfectly in-sync with it. Owen's brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of the feeling, this seamless connection between her and the earth below.

"Owen!" A distant voice called out, nearly breaking through her mental barrier. She doubled down, attempting to up the tremors' intensity. But then her name was being shouted again, shattering any concentration she may have had.

Owen whipped her head in the direction of the voice, spotting Law standing at the edge of the woods. Other than the way he clutched a nearby tree to stabilize himself, he looked totally unfazed by the rumbling beneath them. Owen's breath was leaving her in heavy puffs, a result of both the mental and physical exertion necessary to create an earthquake with one's mind. A thick stream of blood flowed out of her nose, its color matching the red tint that had decorated her sunburnt shoulders.

"What?" she shouted back at her little brother, annoyed at the interruption.

"Grammy wants to know what you want her to make for your birthday dinner," Law told her, sheepishly. He could hear the irritation in her voice, but he would rather interrupt Owen than disobey their grandma's orders.

Still, he uttered a quiet apology once Owen met him at the edge of the woods. He even went as far as offering the clean edge of a used tissue from his pocket in order to wipe the blood from her nose. Although her lip curled in disgust, Owen still gratefully used the tissue to avoid any questions once they got back to the house.

She had stepped a single foot into the shady forest when she heard a whisper of her name, a sound that came from just over her shoulder. Owen hesitated, watching as Law wandered ahead of her. In spite of June's hot weather, she could feel goosebumps erupt along the back of her neck, accompanied by the strange sense that she was being watched.

Owen slowly turned to look over her shoulder, her eyes focusing on a shadowy figure in the distance right away. The figure didn't move. They just stood, staring ominously, as the golden grass parted around them, billowing like waves on the ocean. Even though the mere presence of the figure made Owen want to take off running into the woods, she found herself frozen in place. With the distance between the two of them, she wasn't able to make out any visible details, but something about them felt... eerily familiar in a way she couldn't explain.

Just when she was about to take a step closer in order to get a better look, Law grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around to face him. "Hello? Where the hell are you going?" he asked, examining her with a confused look in his eye.

She blinked dazedly at him for a second, then glanced back into the field. The lurking figure had disappeared, seemingly into thin air. "I..."—Owen swallowed thickly—"I thought I forgot something," she lied, easily.

"Okay, well... Grammy's about to go to the grocery store, so she needs to make a list. We better hurry or you're not getting a birthday meal," Law warned, this time dragging her back through the woods with him. But even as she tried to avoid prickly briars and vicious poison ivy vines, Owen couldn't shake the image of the figure watching her from across the field.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

June 9th had arrived after a flurry of hot summer days. Owen had slept in that day, giving everyone time to cook, bake, and decorate. The midday heat that filled the bedroom was what eventually woke her, but the smell of chocolate cake in the oven was what got her out of bed. Her bare feet padded along the creaky hardwood floors, her hands rubbing tiredly at her eyes.

"Good morning, birthday girl!" Diana had exclaimed when Owen rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. In an instant, everyone's eyes were on her, momentarily distracted from their party preparation tasks. Owen delivered a sluggish grin in response to her family's deafening cheering. Somehow, Law managed to sneak around behind her to slide a polka-dot party hat on top of her head, the elastic snapping against her chin causing her to flinch.

The party hat did stay intact as Owen chowed down on a bowl of Franken Berries, watching the chaos as everyone worked together in the same tiny kitchen. Slowly, but surely, Gordon stacked birthday presents on the dining table beside her, their wrapping paper spanning various holidays.

Once her bowl was filled exclusively with swirling, pink-tinted milk, everyone managed to collectively pause their tasks in order to watch her open gifts. Diana made sure Owen posed with each unwrapped present so that she could snap a polaroid for the family's photo albums. Of course, she seemed most excited when Owen pulled out the handmade scarf she had knitted.

"I mean, I know you won't be able to wear it anytime soon, but I couldn't wait for Hanukkah," Diana confessed with a bashful giggle. "No, no. It's awesome, Diana. Really. It's even better like this because I'll be able to actually use it in the fall," Owen assured her with a smile. "Thank you so much." Diana had her do a couple extra poses with the scarf wrapped snugly around her neck — a detail that didn't go unnoticed by the birthday girl.

One of the final presents was a Walkman and a pair of headphones, a gift from her Grammy. "I'm not too sure how you work that thing, but Gordon insisted you would like it," the older woman chuckled, a wrinkled hand waving dismissively. This fact didn't surprise Owen in the slightest. It was a miracle that Grammy even had a TV. Still, she made sure to thank her grandma, sending a knowing glance in Gordon's direction.

Law leaned forward, sliding the remaining presents within reach for her. She couldn't help but notice that they were all pretty similarly shaped, even down the size. "These last ones are from me and Gordon," Law informed her, an eager smile on his face.

"Oh, and me," their dad spoke up, leaning forward in his seat. "These are from me, too."

Owen spotted the confused looks that crossed her brothers' faces at their dad's comment, but none of them addressed it. Still, a lopsided smirk curled her lips as she tore into the first one, instantly understanding the uniformity.

A cassette of Psychedelic Jungle by The Cranks.

The next cassette: No Secrets by Carly Simon.

Followed by Parallel Lines by Blondie. This tape caused another wave of blonde-related jokes from her brothers.

Then, it was the self-titled Duran Duran album.

Right before she tore into the final cassette, Gordon spoke up. "Well, uh... that one's actually from someone else," he told her. Owen's eyes narrowed, unsure who else would have gotten her something. "Just open it. You'll see," Gordon urged.

More timidly than with the others, Owen slowly unwrapped the last gift and immediately saw a difference in the packaging. Most notably, the case didn't have some fancy printed photo on the inside, telling you the name of the artist and the album. In fact, the only indication of the cassette's contents were scribbled on the tape itself, in black marker.

WITH LOVE, FROM STEVE

When Owen looked back up at Gordon, there was a questioning look in her eye. "He made you a mixtape. Hand delivered it to the house and everything," he explained with a shrug. "He even paid me five whole bucks just so that I would promise to wrap it," Law chimed in, proudly.

But Owen was hardly even listening, her eyes wide with curiosity as she studied the mixtape. Steve had gotten her a birthday gift? Actually, more accurately, Steve had made her a birthday gift. He had taken the time to compile a whole collection of songs just for her. Owen couldn't stop flipping the cassette front to back in her hands, getting a close look at it from every angle.

"How do I use the Walkman?" she blurted, desperately wanting to listen to each song Steve had chosen for her. Even Gordon, with his usual grumpy demeanor, couldn't hold back the impish smirk from unfurling upon his lips.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

Everyone had crowded around the tiny dinner table that night, eating and laughing as they caught Diana up on the family's funniest and most embarrassing stories. Then, birthday cake candles were blown out and a silent wish was made before each person got a hefty slice. Grammy had always hated having leftovers.

When the telephone rang, Gordon leapt up to grab it at the speed of light, afraid to miss even a single call from Eddie while they were away. With Gordon's piece of cake instantly forgotten, Law took the opportunity to scoop half of the remaining slice onto his own plate, earning a look of amusement from every face around the table.

"Hello?" Gordon answered, barely even sounding like himself with how excited he was. But Owen spotted the disappointed slump of his shoulders in her periphery. "Oh... it's for you," he muttered with a roll of his eyes, stretching the phone in her direction.

Owen's eyebrows shot upwards, unsure who could be calling her at a time like this. Much like Gordon, though, she hopped up from the table and hurried over to the phone, bringing the receiver to her ear.

"Hello?" Owen slid a hand in between the front of her overalls and her stomach.

"Hey, birthday girl."

Her lips immediately curled into a smile at the sound of Steve's voice. She swiftly turned away from the dinner table, not wanting her dopey grin to be the focal point for any teasing later on. "Hey, yourself," she chuckled, leaning against the wall by the telephone. "You know... I wasn't expecting a phone call and a gift."

Really, she hadn't expected either of them.

"I figured I could get some use out of this phone number you left me," Steve said, and Owen was pretty sure she could hear his smile through his words.

"I'm honestly just surprised you didn't lose the scrap I wrote it on," she retorted, her joke masking a genuine concern that she had had.

"Me? Lose something? C'mon, Webb..." he drawled. Owen truly hoped he was just kidding. When they were still in school, she couldn't remember a time in which Steve actually remembered to bring his textbooks to class. She had been forced to share hers with him more times than she could count just so he could follow along with the lecture.

"Have you been able to listen to the tape yet? Gordon told me about the Walkman," Steve blurted, unable to curb his enthusiasm.

Was there a normal way to explain that she had already listened to it all the way through, multiple times? Should she tell him that she had only stopped listening to eat dinner? She wasn't sure if she could think of a way to say any of that without coming across as totally weird, so she just said, "Yeah, it's great. I really like that song about the rich girl."

"Ah, Rich Girl by Hall and Oates. Good choice," he acknowledged. "I think my favorite's that one by Men at Work. The one that goes..." Then, Steve attempted to sing the tune to the song in his mind. While it was hardly recognizable, it still made Owen laugh, which in turn, made Steve laugh and sing it even louder, even more off-key.

"Okay, okay! Enough! I know the one you're talking about!" Owen glanced over her shoulder, positive that the others could hear him through the receiver.

"When are you coming back home again?" Steve pondered through waning chuckles.

"About a week." She toyed with the telephone cord, winding it around her index finger. Then, the corner of her lips lifted into a smirk. "Why? Has Hawkins been absolutely unbearable without me there?"

His scoff through the phone made her eyebrows furrow. "Please. If anything, it's been totally peaceful. Almost like a vacation, really," he countered, jokingly.

Owen's eyes rolled instantly, unable to escape his taunting even when she was celebrating her birthday hundreds of miles away. "Oh, jeez. Would you look at the time? I better go. Wouldn't want to intrude on your vacation," she muttered sarcastically, pretending to check her nonexistent watch despite him not being able to see her.

Owen could feel Gordon's eyes boring into the back of her head, likely worried that her hogging the phone would cause him to actually miss a call from Eddie. Knowing him, he would probably hold that against her for the rest of her life. God forbid the two boys miss getting to tell each other what they had for dinner that night.

"Aw... c'mon, Webb. You know I was just playing around. Summers are the worst without your best friend around," Steve protested, playfully.

Steve had never called her his best friend before. Owen got silent, not sure how to respond to that. But surely, it wasn't normal for your heart to sink into your stomach after being called someone's best friend. She chewed nervously at the inside of her cheek, trying to understand why she wasn't as excited as she should have been. After all, she had never been someone's best friend before.

"You still there?" Steve asked with a nervous chuckle. "You didn't actually hang up on me, right?"

Owen blinked once, twice, three times before she responded. "Um, yeah. Sorry, Gordon said he needed the phone," she lied, nibbling at her lower lip. "I'll... see you when I get back home, okay? Thanks again for the mixtape."

"Oh... okay," Steve said, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. "See you later, Owen."

"Bye, Steve."

She could hear him wish her a happy birthday again right before she slammed the receiver back onto the wall-mounted phone. Her hand lingered on the now-sweaty handheld piece, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Who was that?" Grammy spoke up, an inquisitive lilt in her tone.

"Yeah, who the hell was that?" Their dad repeated, genuinely confused and totally lacking the keen eye the others had.

Owen turned to face the noticeably entertained faces of her family members, her eyes wide like she had been caught doing something horribly embarrassing. They each looked like they were in on some big joke — a joke in which Owen herself was not included.

Her gaze darted nervously between all of them before she forced a sheepish grin onto her lips. "Wrong number?" she shrugged.