Apocalypse, Steve Harrington

Chapter Seventeen. Summer Lovin'

SEVENTEEN
— summer lovin'

JIM HOSTED HIS first "movie night" when the twins were ten— Sara had just passed, they were freshly living in Hawkins, and life had gone to shit. It was his way of trying to lift their spirits; finding whatever film was on TV, filling a bowl of popcorn, and forcing them to get along for the duration of the movie. The entire concept of it adapted over the years, eventually turning into a weekend occurrence, where they'd build up pillow forts, and eat candy until their stomachs ached. Of course, times had changed, and they were older— now that they had El, though, "movie night" could be brought back in full swing.

    She stopped at Family Video, browsed the shelves for a minute, and naturally found the only movie option— Grease. So, now, at nine PM, they were all gathered around the small television. With her fathers old t-shirt as a pajama, her hair in a sloppy ponytail, and a makeshift microphone in hand, Lucy jumped around the living room. She only fluttered her eyes open for an occasional glance at the TV, but, other than that, she was purely a singing machine.

"Summer lovin, had me a blast," she sang, socks sliding against the wooden floor. "Summer loving, happened so fast!"

    Repressing a laugh, El shot her eyes between the screen and Lucy. "Summer lovin'," she repeated, in a sing-song tone.

    Sinking deeper into the sofa, Daniel widened his eyes. "She gets like this every time we put Grease on," he murmured, wincing each time his twin belted a lyric.

"I met a girl, crazy for me," she swung her ponytail around to match the beat. Sliding towards the sofa, she shoved the hairbrush-microphone in her brothers face. "Come on, Danny, sing it with me."

He nudged the hairbrush away, fighting the grin that twitched onto his lips. "I'm not singing the girl part!" Danny argued.

Eleven couldn't pull her eyes away from Lucy; she had never seen someone having so much fun. The movie was providing entertainment as well, of course, but Lucy's dance routine had her in a trance. With each ponytail swing, or high kick, the more she wanted to join her.

Shoving his face, she continued to sing. "Summer days, drifting away, to-ah! Oh, the summer nights," Lucy ran forward and grabbed her siblings by their hands, forcing them off the sofa to dance with her. "Well-a, well-a, well-a. It's your part, Danny!" she shoved the make-shift microphone in her brothers face, once again, and waited for him to open his mouth and sing.

Exhaling, Danny moved closer to the 'microphone'. "Tell me more, tell me more," he sang, in a monotone, unable to stop the boyish smile that spread on his lips as the girls cackled.

    Pushing wisps of hair away from her sweaty forehead, Lucy turned to Eleven. "I promise you, he used to be more passionate about Grease," she spoke over the blaring television. "Watch this once, maybe twice, you'll have all the lyrics memorized."

He sank back into the sofa. "I'm shocked you didn't wake Dad up with your singing," Danny glanced towards their father, who was snoring on the La-Z-Boy. "More like screaming."

Falling backwards into the pile of pillows, her grin transformed into a scowl. "You're so bitter," she huffed, completely out of breath from jumping around.