𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 • Steve Harrington

Chapter 3

( Saturday, November 10th 1984 )

THE last time Julie had ever been to school on a Saturday was for a home soccer game last year, and fast forward the clock to present day and she's ambling across the library in a lilac ribbed shirt and some denim dungarees that clattered with each step louder than her Converses against wood.

"Morning, Julie."

"Morning," she mumbled, barely glimpsing at Principal Mueller stood behind the librarian's desk. Even on a Saturday, she was dressed sharp and classy.

Julie parked herself at a table two rows back on the left-hand side of the aisle, and lowered her messenger bag onto the seat beside her.

"We're expecting two more."

"Who?" she sat down, immediately digging for her weekend read.

"Tommy Hagan and Steve Harrington," Principal Mueller recited from the register.

Even with Julie's hand clutching the book in the bottom of her bag, she admittedly froze.

She couldn't escape the kid, not that she was actively trying to, but she had gone three years of her academic career without uttering a word to this boy, only to come face to face with him twice, and now three times, within the last week.

Or so she thought less and less as the overhanging clock ticked against the concave wall arching above the landing to the stacks deck.

Once it had reached five minutes past ten, Principal Mueller said, "I'll give them ten more minutes," and sat herself down for the time being.

Nine minutes pass, and the shiny, dark head of hair with the black eye waltzes through the door. He looked like such a pretty boy, down to his striped shirt rolled up at the sleeves and ironically showing off his watch, his navy blue gilet and some denim jeans that met his pristine sneakers. There had to be some power in looking like that.

"You're late," Principal Mueller informed sternly.

"Sorry, it won't happen again." He sounded sincere.

"Let's just hope there isn't another chair in this room with your name on it again, shall we?"

Passing the brunette by, Steve watched her keep her fixed attention on the book she was reading. Of all people, of course she had to be here.

He plonked himself down three rows back on the right-hand side of the aisle, shrugging back comfortably and outstretching his hand against the table.

"Have you seen the other troublemaker?" asks Principal Mueller between quietly taking the register.

"No, I haven't."

"Then I suppose it's fair to assume he's not going to be in attendance." She hit the pen down and administrated something into the library computer.

The clicks of each keyboard filled the silence of the room, but that wasn't the reason Julie couldn't bring herself to focus. She could feel eyes boring into the side of her head.

She looked up at nothing in particular, trying to decide if it was a shadowed moment of paranoia shading her better judgment. But the feeling didn't shift. The keyboard still chipped through the space of the library, clicking agonisingly slow with Principal Mueller's unexperienced efforts.

When she glanced over her shoulder, Steve looked away, pretending to have been staring ahead and lightly drumming his fingers against the table.

"Alright." The keys clicking stop.