ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴀꜱᴛꜱ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ☆ ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀʀɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ

012.

[1983]
012. So I share my story now.

Annabelle rushed around in the kitchen, throwing on a jacket when she heard the doorbell ring. "Just a minute!" she yelled back, quickly walking to the door and opening it. Steve stood there, a small smile on his face.

"Steve... Hi."

"Hi." He looked down, rocking back and forth on his heel. "I'm sorry I didn't come see you yesterday. I knew it was Will's funeral and hard for you."

Annabelle nodded, biting her lip as she wasn't paying much attention, knowing she had to leave soon to make it to the meting spot. "It's fine, Steve."

"I knew you were gonna say that, Annie. But it's oaky not to. I'm here. Can I come in? I thought we could talk?"

"Now's not the best time." the blonde looked back into her house, seeing a baseball bat and a crowbar on the table. "We can meet up tomorrow. Peter's?"

Steve nodded and took a step back. "I just want to say I'm sorry. About everything. I know you and Jonathan are just friends, but I was trying to look out for you. I don't want you to get hurt. I'm sorry."

Annabelle looked down, nodding. "Thank you... Did your parents kick you out, yet?" She let a sheepish grin, looking back up to the boy. He chuckled back, "Not yet. But they didn't really care enough." He coughed and changed the subject. "Any word on Liam?"

A heavy sigh left the blonde's lips. "No. But I'm going to see his mom tomorrow. Maybe he's just sick."

"Yeah. It's Liam. He's going to be back to following you around, pining over you."

"Oh yeah." She laughed. "Like you with Nancy?" He nodded his head. "Yep. Like me and Nancy."

"I should get going. But tomorrow? Me and you at Peter's." Annabelle grinned to the boy. Steve returned the smile and walked backwards towards his car.

"Tomorrow. Promise?"

"Cross my heart, Harrington."

The boy shook his head, smiling and turned back to his car, getting in and heading to his next person on his apology tour, Nancy.

Annabelle hummed to herself, walking beside Nancy through the woods towards Jonathan, hearing him already trying to shoot the gun. The two got closer, seeing the boy miss, again.

"You're supposed to hit the cans, right?" The brunette girl joked as Annie chuckled beside her.

"No, actually, you see the spaces in between the cans? I'm aiming for those." the girls joined his side, setting down the bag of weapons and other stuff.

"Ah." The blonde said sarcastically back, smiling. "Then perfect aim." She laughed.

"Have either of you ever shot a gun before?"

"Have you met my parents?" Nancy scoffed. "No way." Annie mumbled at the same time.

"Yeah, I haven't shot one since I was ten. My dad took me hunting on my birthday. He made me kill a rabbit." Jonathan pulled out more bullets to load into the gun. "A rabbit?" Nancy asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah. I guess he thought it would make me into more of a man or something. I cried for a week. That was when you crashed your bike outside my house."

"The day we met." Annie smiled. "You came out with tears in your eyes, trying to help me cause I cut my leg." the two chuckled.  "Jesus." Nancy was still shocked over how Jonathans dad treated him.

"What? I'm a fan of Thumper and Annie's clumsy."

"I meant your dad."

"Yeah. I guess he and my mother loved each other at some point, but..." He clocked the gun in his hands. "I wasn't around for that part."

Nancy held out her hand for the gun, waiting for Jonathan to pass it to her. "Um, yeah. Just, uh, point and shoot."

"I don't think my parents ever loved each other." Nancy spoke. Telling the two about her life. "They must've married for some reason." Jonatan stated as Annie shoved her hands into her jacket pocket due to the cold.

"My mom was young." The brunette girl raised the gun, lining up to aim. "My dad was older. But he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So, they brought a nice house at the end of the cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family."

"Screw that."

"Yeah."

"Yeah. Screw that." Nancy repeated under her breath, eyeing the target before taking her finger of the trigger, perfect shot at the can. The three of them chuckled and Nancy held out the gun to Annie.

"So, now I share my story?" Annabelle sighed, taking the gun from Nancy and lining up the shot, "It's simple." She pulled back the trigger and lined up the shot. "My twin brother died. My dad never returned and me and my mom then moved here." She let go, making the bullet shoot out and hit perfectly on target.

"I guess my mom and dad loved each other once. She did. But he was barely around when I was younger. He randomly showed up on the weekend once or twice a month. He was gone the next morning. The whole time they just argued. The last time he showed up was the day before our seventh birthday. The last I ever saw him or Edwin." Annabelle continued to share, aiming for the other can.

"He didn't even come to the funeral." She scoffed. "We moved out to Hawkins after. That's when I met Steve. Instantly we became friends after I fell of the monkey bars and fell into him. He helped me to the nurses office and here we are."

"Did you ever tell Steve of what happened before Hawkins?" Nancy asked, taking the gun back from Annie who held it out to her. "Yeah. I told him not long after. He's the only person who knows everything about me. I told him about my dad after he snuck in through my window on my birthday. I guess since then he can get overprotective. It's just because we were there for each other. When his parents left for a trip, he would sleepover at mine. When my mom worked nights, I'd crash at his. I guess it was just normal for us."

"I know I could be totally wrong, but has anything ever happened between you too? Sometimes it's like you two are dating." Nancy spoke, looking away.

Annie frowned. "No. Never. The closest we have got was when we shared a bed as kids after I had a nightmare. Nothing ever happened. I'm sorry if it's to much. I can tell him to stop with-"

"It's fine." She smiled to the flustered blonde. "I was just checking." The trio then spent the next while sharing stories of their past, practicing shooting the gun and other things they brought.