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008. 𝘁𝘄𝗮𝘀’ 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗡𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗶𝗿.
𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐈’𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘 as she stepped down the middle of the hallway. The bell had rung several minutes ago, but she’d stayed late to finish a project for a tedious class, and so the number of students clamoring in the hallway was less today.
She kept her eyes pinned forward at her locker in the distance, like she always did to avoid the gazes of others, walking at her own pace. The fluorescent lights of the hallway were buzzing overhead, and the few people were still chatting in the hallway, waiting for their friends and talking about useless gossip. All the way down the hall, she heard gossip upon gossip of the Halloween party the night before, and to her great irritation, she did not go a classroom’s length without hearing Steve Harrington’s name being dropped. It’s like he was mentioned everywhere, in all of their conversations. Maybe that’s why her mood was so crisp.
She gripped her hands on the straps of her backpack, pulling them down. With a small breath leaving her lips, she cut through a small line of mingling teenagers to make it to her locker. She let out a small sigh, newly grabbing the lock clasped onto her locker.
“Bonne après-midi,” Helena Gibson’s confident tone of voice entered the premises, as the short, black-haired girl came into peripheral view. “I translated that earlier today— I’m pretty sure you know it means good afternoon.”
Helena leaned her back against the locker beside Lori’s, her head resting on it. She had just casually approached, and was now leaning against the locker like she was meant to be there.
Lori looked to Helena, only moving her head a little bit as she pulled open her locker. “Hey,” she said, simply, her voice monotonous.
The first thing that she thought of was the fact that Helena Gibson was always showing up in every place Lori happened to be in, every time. Even if it was twenty minutes past the end of the school day, Helena was still somehow there. It’s not that Lori minded her presence, just that Helena was the type of person to just show up anywhere, whether you’d like it or not— she popped up at any time.
Most people knew Helena Gibson. They didn’t think her a total head-case or nut-job, or not that she was anything like Nancy Wheeler— she was just the type of person that everyone knew, for different reasons depending on different people.
“How do you know French, by the way?” Helena’s eyebrows narrowed slightly, and she turned her body so that her shoulder was on the locker and her torso faced Lori. “I thought you were from Michigan.”
“I took, like, three classes in freshman year.” Lori simply answered, while her hands moved around in the contents of her locker.
“Very interesting.” Helena folded her lips together and nodded. “Well, I came to give you your bag back,” she lifted her hands where said-bag was held. “Other than, you know, gracing you with the presence of yours truly.”
Lori looked away from her stuff and towards the bag in the girl’s hands. “Oh, thanks,” she said, trying to sound sincere.
“You ditched me at Tina’s party last night, and everyone was saying you ran after King Steve’s car,” Helena laughed humorously. “I don’t wanna say I’m offended, but I’m a bit offended.” she joked, but kept her voice composed.
She handed Lori the bag, and Lori took it in her hands and looked for a place to shove it in her locker. Her eyes searched around.
“So what is it with you and Harrington,” she asked, calmly. “What was all that running after him for.”
“Nothing,” Lori said, sort of distractedly. Her lips departed as she moved things around in her locker. “Is this the topic of conversation?”
“Yes. You left the party pretty damn fast,” Helena crossed her arms over her chest. “God— did you hear Nancy dumped his ass last night, too? So much shit happened so quick.” She scoffed. Helena sort of had a short attention span for subjects. “I mean, I’m not really one to care about social bullshit and I kind of predicted it, but—”
“There’s nothing with me and Steve,” Lori spoke, surprising herself with the defense that slipped into her voice. “He just took something of mine, and I needed it back.” She stared at Helena.
“Oh,” Helena’s face lit up with a small smirk, “Did you get it back?” she said, hinting at something with her eyes fluttering.
“Don’t make it seem like I have the hots for Steve Harrington,” Lori tilted her head to the side. “That’s the last thing I want or need right now.”
Helena smiled to herself, noticing the way Lori’s lips frowned and how her face clouded over with a faint look of distaste when she spoke Steve’s name. Helena crossed her arms tighter, and leant the side of her head on the locker, observing.
“So, how did you like your first party in town,” Helena asked, casually. “What’d you think?”
“I think,” Lori was bent down, placing her binder on the bottom shelf. “Tina threw an absolute rager.” she said, her voice monotonous. “It was the best night of my life,” she said, sarcastic.
“You’ll get used to it,” the black-haired girl smiled humorously.
When Lori stood back up, something glinted in the fluorescent lights— something on the very top shelf of her locker. It was a quick glare of light that spiked her eyes, but it instantly attracted her gaze. She tilted her neck back and stared up at the top shelf, searching.
“And I mean, your costume was pretty rad,” Helena was going on. “I fuckin’ love Joan Jett. Where did you even find a costume so last minute? Did you, like, already have the blazer… or.”
Lori didn’t answer, evidently distracted.
Helena went on, as Lori stepped a foot into her locker and elevated herself, reaching over the rim of the top shelf.
And then time paused.
There, in the top shelf of her locker, was her Bowie cassette tape. The cassette tape that she had dropped at the party, the one that she had grilled Steve about in his driveway. It was suddenly right there, in her locker, in her possession, without a trace or scratch on it. And Steve wasn’t around.
“No fucking way,” she breathed out, genuinely shocked.
“What? You don’t believe me? I swear, they were making out last night— like full spit swapping,” Helena said out loud, going on about something that Lori didn’t hear at all. “Oh, and did you see Billy?”
Lori grabbed the tape in her hand, and stepped down on the floor with her eyes pinned on it. She couldn’t wrap her head around it, really. Less than twenty four hours ago, she was bargaining her life on that cassette, threatening and scolding Steve Harrington. She’d walked up to his driveway in the middle of the night, for that tape. She knew he had it. So why was it in her locker now?
Her mind was racing with a thousand thoughts, but only one was standing out.
“I gotta go,” Lori said, quickly, as she tore her eyes away from it and reached into her locker. She grabbed her jacket and shut the door within seconds.
“Okay?— I’ll see you tomorrow?” Helena said, her words just as quick. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended that you keep ditching me for unknown reasons!” she called, because Lori was already turning away.
Her rising volume caused a few eyes to dart her way, and earned Helena glances with odd looks. Helena widened her eyes at them, and jerked her neck a bit so they looked away.
From far, it looked as though Lori Philbin was on a mission. Her feet were pounding on the tiles of the hallway floor as she stomped towards the nearest exit, the bright red exit sign catching her attention immediately. Her eyes weren’t moving from the door, and she didn’t stop for anybody, just simply tore through the stale air that suffocated her trajectory. Some stray teenagers sort of looked at her oddly, only a few, but she really, really couldn’t care less. Something was swirling in the pit of her stomach, and she told herself it was anger.
But why was she angry? Her cassette tape was back. There was nothing to be angry about anymore.
She didn’t really focus on the thoughts circulating in her mind, she just went with the first thing she thought of. She pushed her hand on the door and let it swing open in the November wind. A gust of air smacked her in the face and ruffled her hair, and she blinked a few times but still never stopped stepping away from the west wing of the school until she was in the parking lot. Her mind was blazing with hundreds of different things— she wanted to know how her tape had gotten inside her locker, who put it there, and where Steve Harrington was. She didn’t want to know the answers, she needed to know.
Letting out a huff, her head aching with a slight pain from the sudden rushing, she gripped a hand onto the door handle of her car, ripping it open. She grabbed the wheel and put the key into ignition, trying not to think about anything else other than her plan of action— though he plan of action was just a blur. She pressed on the gas, swerving out of her parking spot and not really watching because everyone was almost gone by now. She drove up to the school, and up the pavement hill towards the elementary side. She stopped at the curb, in front of a group of little kids.
As known to few people, Lori waited for no one. It was her motto.
And luckily, she didn’t have to wait long, only a few short minutes before she saw Dustin’s hair exit the school through the back doors. He was by himself, rushing down the stone steps with evident panic on his face. His eyes were darting in every direction, but they didn’t need to search for long before he spotted his target, Lori’s car, since it was one of the only cars in the entire elementary parking lot.
He stopped in his tracks. Frantically, he began to wave his arms in her direction, alerting her that she could leave. He used all of his force just to show her from afar that she should leave. He nearly threw his shoulder out.
Lori narrowed her eyebrows, hard, and hoped he could see her confused expression from behind the windshield. She put a hand up beside her head, and mouthed “what?”.
He went back to throwing his shoulder out, shooing her off with strong movements. His lips were moving, mouthing the words “GO HOME!” with perfection. He gave two thumbs up, shaking them in the air.
Lori still had her eyebrows furrowed, but she shrugged anyways, knowing that, for whatever reason he was aggressively telling her to leave, it was not good. His thumbs up was very ironic, she automatically knew that. But she had better things to do, and this time, only this time, her curiosity did not get the better of her. She turned the car around before she could see Dustin’s friends running into the soccer field, and before she could take the time to notice Will, whom they were running to.
As she stopped at the end of the high school parking lot, about to turn onto the long road, a green car veered onto the street. It was driving fast, dangerously fast, so fast that Lori couldn’t even see who was driving it. The green car nearly hit Lori’s as it drifted around the corner, its tires squealing on the pavement and smoke evaporating from behind. It sped off into the school parking lot before she could even make sense of what had just happened. She waited for a second, catching her breath.
For a few seconds, she looked in her rear-view mirror, watching the green car speed all the way up to Hawkins Elementary, where Dustin was no longer outside. She narrowed her eyebrows again, this time really hard, and caught herself debating if she should go see what was going on. She bit her lip, and pressed on the gas, trying to ignore whatever that was, because it was probably nothing. And giving into more curiosity was stupid for her, anyways.
It wasn’t long before she smoothed onto the pavement of her driveway. She parked the car and paused, her hands on the wheel and her gaze fixed. Lori closed her eyes in a tight blink, so hard that she saw stars behind her eyelids. She pressed her lips together, and let out a long, annoyed breath from her nose.
Trying not to think too much about what she was doing, she stepped out of the car door. With unknown feelings mixing around in her veins, she walked down the driveway and around the shrub, her arms crossed over her chest. Her converse were pounding hard on the paved ground, and her eyes were suddenly pinned on his front door. She glanced briefly at the space where his maroon car usually rested, but the spot was vacant.
She passed the empty laneway and stepped up the walkway, looking forward all the way until she was in front of the red door.
She contemplated turning right around and going home. But something told her not to, and that something was making her mad. With a long breath leaving her lips, she raised her hand, extended her pointer finger, and pressed the doorbell.
Lori had never, in her life, waited for a boy to answer his door as she stood on the other side waiting. Especially not King of the high school, like she knew Steve was. It didn’t intimidate her, of course, but this was new— and Lori didn’t like new.
She debated, again— a constant inner conflict— if she had time to turn and run back home, but there was that switch buzzing in her head again. Nothing was intimidating if she didn’t let it be.
Just when she was about to turn around, because the waiting became too long, Steve appeared around the corner of his garage. He had gloves on, and a wrench in his hand.
“Oh,” he seemed only slightly surprised to see Lori, but his facial expression quickly relaxed as he rubbed his hands on the back of his pants. “Hey, Philbin.” A grin took over his lips.
Lori shot her head to the side, her eyebrows rising in surprise— but she quickly put them back down.
“What brings you here,” Steve took a few more steps, but then kept his place along the garage door, leaning his shoulder on it. “Coming to see me?” the corner of his lip pulled up.
“Don’t get excited, Harrington,” Lori rolled her eyes, stepping away from the door and turning towards him. They were standing seven feet apart, facing one another in front of his home. “You know why I’m here.”
“Here to waste my time again?” Steve spoke, crossing his arms.
“Time spent with me is never wasting.” Lori affirmed, keeping her stand. She rubbed her hands on the back of her pants. “So— I just came here to, uh, tell you that I got back what I wanted.” she said it, short and simple, and was ready to head home.
His eyebrows narrowed, genuinely seeming surprised. “Wait— are you here to thank me?”
She rolled her eyes. “No—”
“Is the Lorraine Philbin actually here, in my driveway, coming to thank me?” He taunted, joking, leaning forward a bit. “Are you sparing your sympathy,”
She knew he was referring to their conversation last night. “Don’t call me Lorraine.”
He continued, “Because you did say—”
“I know what I said.” she rolled her eyes, again, “Now shut up before I regret this.”
“Go on,” he motioned with his hand.
She stared at him blankly. “Thanks, I guess, for giving it back.” she admitted. “This tape means a lot to me, so, merci.”
He nodded, “And?”
“And what?” she repeated, looking at him stupidly. “I’m not apologizing for something that wasn’t my fault,” she defended, shrugging stubbornly.
“Fine. Then I’m sorry for taking it,” Steve stopped leaning on his garage door, standing on both feet. “But, y’know it wasn’t my fault, either.”
“What do you mean,” Lori narrowed her eyebrows, crossing her arms.
“I didn’t take that cassette on purpose,” Steve pointed at the item in her hand. “Monty gave it to me on my way out, and I had clue what you were talking about when you came up in my face at one in the damn morning. So, I’m sorry that I didn’t even look, I had a lot going on in my head.”
“Wait— you’re telling me that none of this was your fault,” Lori spoke, slightly bewildered.
“Well shit, Philbs, you didn’t even give me time to explain,” He said.
She put an arm out at her side, ignoring the nickname he’d sprung up, “You had a bat of nails in your hand!”
“You showed up in the middle of the night on Halloween and tried to break into my car,” he said, calmer than her. “Apology?”
Lori shoved her foot at the ground, like an angry child. “Fine. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” Steve smiled, nodding his head. “That’s all it took.”
Lori’s eyes lingered on his face for a moment, then at his hair, at his hands, and then back to his face. “Alright. That’s all I was here for.”
She formed her lips in a tight line, and then turned away, beginning to step down the driveway. Her hair brushed in different directions from the breeze and she crossed her arms to keep warm.
Steve watched as she passed him, standing there in front of his garage. He looked at the back of her head, to her back, and then sighed to himself. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out an inaudible groan of annoyance.
“I’ve got some more Bowie tapes if you want em’,” he called out.
Lori suddenly stopped, and turned around slowly. “Really?” she said, surprising herself with how enthusiasm sounded in her words.
“Yeah. I’ll have to go find em’ first but you could take a look if you ever want to.” he said, staring at her. Their eyes were locked. “Just, I dunno, give me a shout from your window.”
All she could think to do was nod her head once, because somehow, she couldn’t find any slips of annoyance in her body anymore and her palms weren’t sweating with anger— she didn’t know what else to do when she wasn’t mad. And no one had ever offered cassette tapes to her before, especially not ones of her favorite artist.
He nodded too, and then their eyes finally tore away from one another as she turned around, walking down the pavement. He watched her walk all the way around the shrub, as her hair fluttered in the wind behind her and he stood in his driveway, just like the night before. Except, it was all different in the November air.
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