𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬 ➤ 𝑹. 𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆𝒚

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

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"𝘼𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙨"

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(𝟏𝟒 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞)

𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝟏𝐬𝐭, 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 rang, bouncing off the walls and echoing loudly through the house.

Valerie had been wrong about that.

Groaning loudly, she flung her arm carelessly over her eyes, the brightness of her room too much for her corneas to handle so early in the day. The bed sheets crinkled loudly as Valerie's half-asleep frame rolled off the mattress, feet trudging sluggishly through the aging oak floors of the upstairs hallway and she cursed out the device as it continued to ring out.

Unsurprisingly, Valerie wasn't completely shocked by the turn of events as she stumbled down the stairs – almost tripping on the last step – arriving at the living room. She'd been wrong about a lot of things lately.

Picking up the phone aggressively, the girl pressed her ear to the receiver.

"What?" she spat out coarsely but quickly reconsidered her tone, realising it could be someone totally innocent. However, there was panicked voice on the other end of the line, one that sounded eerily like her best friend and Valerie decided she had no regrets at all.

"Dustin was right," Steve blurted out, his voice seemed strained and she could practically see how he was gripping the phone with worry. Valerie's eyes flickered to the clock resting on the mantlepiece of the house's fireplace and she furrowed her brows, leaning close to the receiver to make sure she'd heard him right.

"Steve, what the fuck, it's nine in the morning," Valerie replied, confused at his statement. Had Steve Harrington finally lost it? It was probably about time, she mused. It was silent on the other end for a split second before he spoke up, "Evil Russians. There are evil Russians in Hawkins."

If she had a dime for every time he made her reconsider their friendship, she'd be living as a goddamn monarch, or at least in LA. Wherever she'd be, she'd at least buy herself a throne, Valerie knew that much.

Sighing agitatedly, she leant her arm on the couch for some much-needed support.

"Can you see any Russians, Harrington? I want photographic proof," Valerie asked impassively, her voice heavily monotone as he spluttered a response over the phone. Cue another silence.

"No."

Drawing her lips into a thin line, Valerie resisted the urge to yell some sense into him. Steve, ironically, took her unresponsiveness as a positive sign and continued. "Whatever," he dismissed, "Can you just get your ass over here? I need backup!"

"Hey! What am I then?"

Valerie heard another voice yell through the phone, high-pitched and childish. Steve shushed Dustin and a few muffled words were exchanged along with some clanking as she realised Steve and Dustin were now fighting for the phone. Typical.

She assumed 'here' meant the mall and Valerie really didn't want to go to the mall today.

"Depends, does 'my ass' have to pay for ice cream?" she contended, ignoring the two boys' current altercation. A smile made its way onto her face at the thought of free dessert.