CHAPTER FORTY NINE; WAR ZONE

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CHAPTER FORTY NINE; WAR ZONE — Also known as; Papa, part 3.

CHAPTER FORTY NINE; WAR ZONE — Also known as; Papa, part 3

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The rest of the drive passed in an uneventful blur. The silence between Steve and I had been settling and I had been able to lose myself in my music for the first time in days. After everything that had happened, I felt so much better for talking to Steve. It helped me push past what had happened to a certain extent. It wasn't lingering at the forefront of my mind anymore, haunting my nightmares and reminding me constantly what was to become of me and my friends, of our hometown—it was still there, but somehow I was able to take my mind off it with music and I was thankful for that.

For me, music had always been a safe space. It was my go to whenever something was wrong, if I needed an escape. During my parents' marriage break down whenever they'd erupt into another one of their arguments I would put my Walkman on at full volume and drown out their voices with the voices of others.

It always provided me with a sense of comfort and I had been able to bond deeply with both Steve and Max as a result of music.

I had cycled through Max and I's mixtape once by the time we'd reached War Zone and as Steve pulled into the parking lot I slid my headphones from my ears while sitting forward and looking at the array of cars parked up.

"Holy shit." I mumbled quietly to myself.

My friends joined me in looking out the window at the busyness of the parking lot and the array of people coming and going. It was clear that the news of Eddie and his 'murderous spree' had elicited a lot of fear in the residents of Hawkins and perhaps that wasn't a bad thing. At least they would be remotely prepared should the real threat come for them.

"Park around the side." Nancy instructed Steve as he struggled to find a space and wordlessly he followed through, turning out of the parking lot and pulling up down the side of the store in between this one and the next.

He killed the engine, turning to me with a silent question and I only nodded once, following him in rising to our feet. Erica opened up the door, Robin and Nancy following her as I trailed in the back, looking at Steve's bare feet with a deep frown.

I hadn't noticed he'd been barefoot this whole time and just as he took the step out of the van, I called his name to stop him. He turned and called back, confused in tone as I disappeared, searching through drawers and such and he stepped back inside, watching me, "Jen, what are you doing?"

I found a pair of black boots and sized them up. They weren't in bad condition, surprisingly quite clean and appeared to be Steve's size. I checked the soles to be sure however and looked back at him with an arched brow, "Twelve, right?"

"Yeah—I," He nodded, cutting himself off before he sighed, "Why?"

I tossed a pair of clean looking socks at him before dangling the boots, "You're barefoot." I said as if it were obvious, "Put these on."

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 - 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍Where stories live. Discover now