vii. death's door

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chapter seven

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chapter seven .  .  . death's door







THE NIGHT HAD EXPANDED QUICKLY. Everyone was crammed in the makeshift protection base, with Lucas perched on top of the roof to keep watch, silently staring in front of themselves, except Dustin who was pacing — the only sound heard was the owl's hooting in the distance and the continuous clanging of Steve's lighter. Josie sat opposite her best friend, their legs slightly tangled together while she had chipped every last bit of her nail polish from her nails, just waiting for something to happen.

"So..." Max broke their silence, directing her words towards the two teenagers. "You two really fought one of these things before?" Steve wordlessly nodded in response, "And you're, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn't a bear?"

"Shit. Don't be an idiot." Dustin snarled, "Okay? It wasn't a bear. Why are you even here if you don't believe us? Just go home."

"Dustin—" Josie furrowed her brows at her brother.

Max rolled her eyes, getting up from her spot. "Geesh. Someone's cranky. Past your bedtime?" She climbed up the ladder, leaving the three alone.

Steve grinned. "That's good. Just show her you don't care."

"I don't."

"You don't have to be such an asshole." Josie scolded, her eyes snapping to Steve dreading the worst. "What have you told him?"

"Just the best advice ever. Told him if you want a girl to like you, act as if you don't care."

Josie scoffed, "Seriously?"

Steve smiled at the look on her face. "What? It works every time."

"That's the shittiest advice ever."

"It wouldn't work on you?" Steve's eyes drilled into her own.

"No." She moved her foot so it touched his knee, "I'd prefer if a guy showed his interest instead of hiding it. It's majorly unattractive when there's no equal effort." Steve was left speechless as he listened to the words leaving Josie's mouth — he was left dumbfounded.

"Oh." He weakly responded.

A deafening growl snapped everyone's attention away from their current conversations. Josie, Dustin and Steve bolting to the window, trying to spot anything through the fog that lingered on the ground — it ironically set the atmosphere.

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