Secrets // Steve Harrington

Chapter Thirty-One - Feelings

Word Count: 2,965 words. 

Warnings: None. 

I hated to admit that I was starting to believe that I could graduate this year. As the first months of Senior Year dwindled to a close and we were getting closer to Halloween. I was struggling to keep up, that was the truth, but I was managing. The thought of graduating brought to mind the possibilities that I had. They were few and none. Hawkins College was even too expensive for me, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I had a little more hope than I did before.

"Hey kid," Hopper greeted, approaching my locker.

I looked at him, wide eyed. "What are you doing here? It's not Thursday and we are not in your office."

"I went to check out the pumpkin patch again today," he began.

I shook my head, pouting my bottom lip. "I completely forgot about that. Any idea what's going on?" I had not forgotten about it. Not even slightly.

"Well, he came into the station yesterday. Told me that not only are the crops still failing, but there were two... teenagers hanging around. Snooping."

His eyes watched me carefully for a reaction, a small smile on his face. He knew it was me, but I didn't need to let him know that he was right.

"That's terrible," I replied sarcastically. "Could they be the cause of the black goo?"

Hopper crossed his arms. "I never told you it was black goo that infested the pumpkins."

I liked my lips, sighing. "I couldn't help myself and I was right to. It's from that place Hop. It's from the Upside Down."

He shook his head, leaning closer. "We don't know that."

I shook my head. "You weren't there. You didn't see what I saw. The forest was consumed by black veins. By darkness. By the same thing that those pumpkins are. It's from there Hopper, something big is about to happen."

The Police Sheriff took a quick glance at the students are us. They were leaving, the last class of the day having just ended. "I'll look into it."

"Hop – "

"I'll look into it," he assured. "Getting involved will only get you killed."

"Not getting involved, not finding it earlier, not remembering earlier is how I lost Eleven," I reminded him, able to see the pain and guilt on his face as I did. "I can't not do anything."

"Alright," he agreed after a beat of silence, "but we do it together. No going behind each other's back and sneaking off with a boy."

I scoffed. "Billy's harmless. Mostly."

Hopper perked a brow. "Billy Hargrove?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Kid, he's dangerous. The way he drives that car. He tried to cut me off this morning and I was this close," – he held up his fingers, a hairline apart – "to pulling him into the station. I don't like him. Stay away from him."

I let out a laugh, shocked. "Okay dad," I mocked, scrunching my forehead. "I'm just having some fun. A distraction from all the shit that's going on around me."

He flinched at the word I had used, taking a step back. "Alright, but just..." – his gaze met mine – "... be careful." Then, he walked away, heading out the front door of the school after the crowds of students.

I sighed, realising my mistake. It had meant to be a playful jest. The 'dad' thing. He was being overbearing and protective, like I was told fathers were supposed to be and so I acted on impulse. I had forgotten the pain he had been through as a parent.