against all odds (steddie)

two ... home

march 30th, 1980
hawkins, indiana
steve is in 7th grade
eddie is in 8th grade

"breakfast is ready!"

steve rubbed his eyes, sitting up in his race car bed. his feet were starting to hang off the end. he really needed a new bed. he was starting to hit growth spurts, and this bed he's had since kindergarten isn't cutting it.

steve got up and stretched out before going over to the stairs. he jumped onto the railing, sliding down. he was met by his mother at the bottom of the stairs, her hands on her hips. "i've already told you about this, mister. no sliding on the railing."

steve gave her a lopsided smile. "right, sorry." he laughed a bit, scooting by her to making his way to the dining room table.

"just leave him alone, dear. he'll learn when he busts his head open." steve's father mumbled from behind his newspaper. steve looked over at his father who was seated across him at the round table. he was always so bitter. he tried to be loving, but it was like he physically couldn't. he shouldn't have had a kid. steve sighed.

the table had three chairs. one for steve, one for tabitha (his mom), and one for richard (his dad). that's all they needed in the usually empty house. his parents were often at work. just a couple months ago, they left steve by himself at home for the first time for a few days for some kind of holiday trip.

steve began to eat when his mother sat the plate down. and then his leg was kicked under the table. "prayer, boy! what are you thinking?!" richard glared, his newspaper finally sat down. steve flinched at the sudden voice, grabbing onto his father's rough hand. he grabbed his mother's recently manicured hand as well and bowed his head.

"we thank god for blessing us with this food in front of us, and to allow us to share this breakfast together. we thank god for our family, and that we're all happy and healthy. in jesus's name we pray, amen." tabitha prayed, keeping her head down with her eyes closed.

steve didn't understand why they prayed. he believed in god and heaven and hell. they just never went to church, and when they did, it was once every three months. but if that's what makes his parents feel better about their sins, he didn't care to pray.

steve started to eat again, but he felt eyes staring at him. he looked at his mother, who was eyeing him. "ma'am?" he asked politely, biting off a piece of bacon.

"what time did you get home last night?" tabitha asked, gritting through her teeth with an annoyed smile.

"uh," steve felt a knot tie in his throat. he didn't want to lie, but he was home well past the streetlights coming on. "like...seven."

"lie." richard grumbled, stuffing his face with toast.

tabitha dropped her fork out of anger. "why did you get home late? what we're you up to?"

"tabitha, he is in seventh grade. stop prying on him like—"

"no!" tabitha snapped at richard. "i know he's up to something by that look on his face."

steve watched his parents go back and forth, his breathing speeding up because they wouldn't stop yelling. this is how it's always been. though it's just the three of them, there's never peace. never a moment to breathe without feeling like there's a pillow over his face, suffocating him.